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"Well, then, I close with you. Here's the money," said Auriol, taking out his purse.
"On no account, Auriol," cried Ebba quickly. "It's too much."
"A great deal too much, Mr. Darcy," said Thorneycroft.
"Auriol and Darcy!" muttered Ginger. "Can this be the gemman ve're a-lookin' for. Vere's my two pals, I vonder? Oh, it's all right!" he added, receiving a signal from behind the pillar. "They're on the look-out, I see."
"Give the lady the dog, and take the money, man," said Auriol sharply.
"Beg pardon, sir," said Ginger, "but hadn't I better carry the dog home for the young lady? It might meet vith some accident in the vay."
"Accident!--stuff and nonsense!" cried Mr. Thorneycroft. "The rascal only wants to follow you home, that he may know where you live, and steal the dog back again. Take my advice, Mr. Darcy, and don't buy it."
"The bargain's concluded," said Ginger, delivering the dog to Ebba, and taking the money from Auriol, which, having counted, he thrust into his capacious breeches pocket.
"How shall I thank you for this treasure, Auriol?" exclaimed Ebba, in an ecstasy of delight.
"By transferring to it all regard you may entertain for me," he replied, in a low tone.
"That is impossible," she answered.
"Well, I vote we drive away at once," said Mr. Thorneycroft. "Halloa!
jarvey!" he cried, hailing a coach that was pa.s.sing; adding, as the vehicle stopped, "Now get in, Ebba. By this means we shall avoid being followed by the rascal."
So saying, he got into the coach. As Auriol was about to follow him, he felt a slight touch on his arm, and, turning, beheld a tall and very forbidding man by his side.
"Beg pardin, sir," said the fellow, touching his hat, "but ain't your name Mr. Auriol Darcy?"
"It is," replied Auriol, regarding him fixedly. "Why do you ask?"
"I vants a vord or two vith you in private--that's all, sir," replied the Tinker.
"Say what you have to say at once," rejoined Auriol. "I know nothing of you."
"You'll know me better by-and-by, sir," said the Tinker, in a significant tone. "I _must_ speak to you, and alone."
"If you don't go about your business, fellow, instantly, I'll give you in charge of the police," cried Auriol.
"No, you von't, sir--no, you von't," replied the Tinker, shaking his head. And then, lowering his voice, he added, "You'll be glad to purchase my silence ven you larns wot secrets o' yourn has come to my knowledge."
"Won't you get in, Mr. Darcy?" cried Thorneycroft, whose back was towards the Tinker.
"I must speak to this man," replied Auriol. "I'll come to you in the evening. Till then, farewell, Ebba." And, as the coach drove away, he added to the Tinker, "Now, rascal, what have you to say?"
"Step this vay, sir," replied the Tinker. "There's two friends o' mine as vishes to be present at our conference. Ve'd better valk into a back street."
CHAPTER VII
THE HAND AGAIN!
Followed by Auriol, who, in his turn, was followed by Ginger and the Sandman, the Tinker directed his steps to Great Windmill Street, where he entered a public-house, called the Black Lion. Leaving his four-footed attendants with the landlord, with whom he was acquainted, Ginger caused the party to be shown into a private room, and, on entering it, Auriol flung himself into a chair, while the dog-fancier stationed himself near the door.
"Now, what do you want with me?" demanded Auriol.
"You shall learn presently," replied the Tinker; "but first, it may be as vell to state, that a certain pocket-book has been found."
"Ah!" exclaimed Auriol. "You are the villains who beset me in the ruined house in the Vauxhall Road."
"Your pocket-book has been found, I tell you," replied the Tinker, "and from it ve have made the most awful diskiveries. Our werry 'air stood on end ven ve first read the shockin' particulars. What a bloodthirsty ruffian you must be! Vy, ve finds you've been i' the habit o' makin'
avay with a young ooman vonce every ten years. Your last wictim wos in 1820--the last but one, in 1810--and the one before her, in 1800."
"Hangin's too good for you!" cried the Sandman; "but if ve peaches you're sartin to sving."
"I hope that pretty creater I jist see ain't to be the next wictim?"
said Ginger.
"Peace!" thundered Auriol. "What do you require?"
"A hundred pound each'll buy our silence," replied the Tinker.
"Ve ought to have double that," said the Sandman, "for screenin' sich atterocious crimes as he has parpetrated. Ve're not werry partic'lar ourselves, but ve don't commit murder wholesale."
"Ve don't commit murder at all," said Ginger.
"You may fancy," pursued the Tinker, "that ve ain't perfectly acvainted with your history, but to prove that ve are, I'll just rub up your memory. Did you ever hear tell of a gemman as murdered Doctor Lamb, the famous halchemist o' Queen Bess's time, and, havin' drank the 'lixir vich the doctor had made for hisself, has lived ever since? Did you ever hear tell of such a person, I say?"
Auriol gazed at him in astonishment.
"What idle tale are you inventing?" he said at length.
"It is no idle tale," replied the Tinker boldly. "Ve can bring a vitness as'll prove the fact--a livin' vitness."
"What witness?" cried Auriol.
"Don't you reckilect the dwarf as used to serve Doctor Lamb?" rejoined the Tinker. "He's alive still; and ve calls him Old Parr, on account of his great age."
"Where is he?--what has become of him?" demanded Auriol.
"Oh, ve'll perduce him in doo time," replied the Tinker cunningly.
"But tell me where the poor fellow is?" cried Auriol. "Have you seen him since last night? I sent him to a public-house at Kensington, but he has disappeared from it, and I can discover no traces of him."
"He'll turn up somewhere--never fear," rejoined the Tinker. "But now, sir, that ve fairly understands each other, are you agreeable to our terms? You shall give us an order for the money, and ve'll undertake, on our parts, not to mislest you more."
"The pocket-book must be delivered up to me if I a.s.sent," said Auriol, "and the poor dwarf must be found."