CHAPTER XXIII
ON THE COP
It was morning still, as Viney went away over the Cop; and, when he hadvanished beyond the distant group of little houses, Dan Ogle turned andcrept lazily into his shelter: there to make what dinner he might fromthe remnant of the food that Mag had brought him the evening before; andto doze away the time on his bed of dusty sacks, till she should bringmore in the evening to come. He would have given much for a drink, forsince his retreat to Kemp's Wharf the lime had penetrated clothes andskin and had invaded his very vitals. More particularly it had invadedhis throat; and the pint or so of beer that Mag brought in a bottle wasnot enough to do more than aggravate the trouble. But no drink wasthere, and no money to buy one; else he might well have ventured out toa public-house, now that the police sought him no more. As for Grimes ofthe wharf (who had been growing daily more impatient of Dan's stay), heoffered no better relief than a surly reference to the pump. So therewas nothing for it but to sit and swear; with the consolation that thisnight should be his last at Kemp's Wharf.
Sunlight came with the afternoon, and speckled the sluggish Lea; thenthe shadow of the river wall fell on the water and it was dull again;and the sun itself grew duller, and lower, and larger, in the haze ofthe town. If Dan Ogle had climbed the bank, and had looked across theCop now, he would have seen Blind George, stick in hand, feeling his waypainfully among hummocks and ditches in the distance. Dan, however, wasexpecting nobody, and he no longer kept watch on all comers, so thatBlind George neared unnoted. He gained the lime-strewn road at last, andwalked with more confidence. Up and over the bank, and down on the sidenext the river, he went so boldly that one at a distance would neverhave guessed him blind; for on any plain road he had once traversed hewas never at fault; and he turned with such readiness at the properspot, and so easily picked his way to the shed, that Dan had scarce morewarning than could bring him as far as the door, where they met.
"Dan!" the blind man said; "Dan, old pal! It's you I can hear, I'll bet,ain't it? Where are ye?" And he groped for a friendly grip.
Dan Ogle was taken by surprise, and a little puzzled. Still, he could dono harm by hearing what Blind George had to say; so he answered: "Allright. What is it?"
Guided by the sound, Blind George straightway seized Dan's arm; for thiswas his way of feeling a speaker's thoughts while he heard his words."He's gone," he said, "gone clean. Do you know where?"
Dan glared into the sightless eye and shook his captured arm roughly."Who?" he asked.
"Viney. Did you let him have the stuff?"
"What stuff? When?"
"What stuff? That's a rum thing to ask. Unless--O!" George dropped hisvoice and put his face closer. "Anybody to hear?" he whispered.
"No."
"Then why ask what stuff? You didn't let him have it this morning, didyou?"
"Dunno what you mean. Never seen him this morning."
Blind George retracted his head with a jerk, and a strange look grew onhis face: a look of anger and suspicion; strange because the greatcolourless eye had no part in it. "Dan," he said, slowly, "them ain'tthe words of a pal--not of a faithful pal, they ain't. It's a damn lie!"
"Lie yourself!" retorted Dan, thrusting him away. "Let go my arm, goon!"
"I knew he was coming," Blind George went on, "an' I follered up, an'waited behind them houses other side the Cop. I want my whack, I do. Iheared him coming away, an' I called to him, but he scuttled off. I knowhis step as well as what another man 'ud know his face. I'm a poor blindbloke, but I ain't a fool. What's your game, telling me a lie like that?"
He was standing off from the door now, angry and nervously alert. Dangrowled, and then said: "You clear out of it. You come to me first fromViney, didn't you? Very well, you're his pal in this. Go and talk to himabout it."
"I've been--that's where I've come from. I've been to his lodgings inChapman Street, an' he's gone. Said he'd got a berth aboard ship--a lie.Took his bag an' cleared, soon as ever he could get back from here. He'son for doing me out o' my whack, arter I put it all straight forhim--that's about it. You won't put me in the cart, Dan, arter all Idone! Where's he gone?"
"I dunno nothing about him, I tell you," Dan answered angrily. "Yousling your hook, or I'll make ye!"
"Dan," said the blind man, in a voice between appeal and threat; "Dan, Ididn't put you away, when I found you was here!"
"Put me away? You? You can go an' try it now, if you like. I ain'twanted; they won't have me. An' if they would--how long 'ud you last,next time you went into Blue Gate? Or even if you didn't go, eh? Howlong would a man last, that had both his eyes to see with, eh?" Andindeed Blind George knew, as well as Dan himself, that London wasunhealthy for any traitor to the state and liberty of Blue Gate. "Howlong would he last? You try it."
"Who wants to try it? I on'y want to know----"
"Shut your mouth, Blind George, an' get out o' this place!" Ogle cried,fast losing patience, and making a quick step forward. "Go, or you'll belame as well as blind, if I get hold o' ye!"
Blind George backed involuntarily, but his blank face darkened andtwisted devilishly, and he gripped his stick like a cudgel. "Ah, I'mblind, ain't I? Mighty bold with a blind man, ain't ye? If my eyes waslike yours, or you was blind as me, you'd----"
"Go!" roared Dan furiously, with two quick steps. "Go!"
The blind man backed as quickly, fiercely brandishing his stick. "I'llgo--just as far as suits me, Dan Ogle!" he cried. "I ain't goin' to bedone out o' what's mine! One of ye's got away, but I'll stick to theother! Keep off! I'll stick to ye till--keep off!"
As Dan advanced, the stick, flourished at random, fell on his wrist witha crack, and in a burst of rage he rushed at the blind man, and smotehim down with blow on blow. Blind George, beaten to a heap, but cowednot at all, howled like a wild beast, and struck madly with his stick.The stick reached its mark more than once, and goaded Ogle to a greaterfury. He punched and kicked at the plunging wretch at his feet: who,desperate and unflinching, with his mouth spluttering blood and curses,never ceased to strike back as best he might.
At the noise Grimes came hurrying from his office. For a moment he stoodastonished, and then he ran and caught Dan by the arm. "I won't haveit!" he cried. "If you want to fight you go somewhere else.You--why--why, damme, the man's blind!"
Favoured by the interruption, Blind George crawled a little off,smearing his hand through the blood on his face, breathless andbattered, but facing his enemy still, with unabashed malevolence. For amoment Ogle turned angrily on Grimes, but checked himself, and let fallhis hands. "Blind?" he snarled. "He'll be dead too, if he don't keepthat stick to hisself; that's what he'll be!"
The blind man got on his feet, and backed away, smearing the grisly faceas he went. "Ah! hold him back!" he cried, with a double mouthful ofoaths. "Hold him hack for his own sake! I ain't done with you, Dan Ogle,not yet! Fight? Ah, I'll fight you--an' fight you level! I mean it! Ido! I'll fight you level afore I've done with you! Dead I'll be, will I?Not afore you, an' not afore I've paid you!" So he passed over the bank,threatening fiercely.
"Look here," said Grimes to Ogle, "this ends this business. I've hadenough o' you. You find some other lodgings."
"All right," Ogle growled. "I'm going: after to-night."
"I dunno why I was fool enough to let you come," Grimes pursued. "An'when I did, I never said your pals was to come too. I remember thatblind chap now; I see him in Blue Gate, an' I don't think much of him.An' there was another chap this morning. Up to no good, none of ye; an'like as not to lose me my job. So I'll find another use for that shed,see?"
"All right," the other sulkily repeated. "I tell ye I'm going: afterto-night."