CHAPTER XXI
IN THE BAR-PARLOUR
Stephen was sound asleep, and the Hole in the Wall had closed its eyesfor the night. The pale man had shuffled off, with his doubts andapprehensions, toward the Highway, and Mr. Cripps was already home inLimehouse. Only the half-drunken sailor was within hail, groping towardsome later tavern, and Captain Nat, as he extinguished the lamps in thebar, could hear his song in the distance--
The grub was bad an' the pay was low, Leave her, Johnny, leave her! So hump your duds an' ashore you go For it's time for us to leave her!
Captain Nat blew out the last light in the bar and went into thebar-parlour. He took out the cash-box, and stood staring thoughtfully atthe lid for some seconds. He was turning at last to extinguish the lampat his elbow, when there was a soft step without, and a cautious tap atthe door.
Captain Nat's eyes widened, and the cash-box went back under the shelf.The tap was repeated ere the old man could reach the door and shoot backthe bolts. This done, he took the lamp in his left hand, and opened thedoor.
In the black of the passage a man stood, tall and rough. Just such afigure Captain Nat had seen there before, less distinctly, and in abriefer glimpse; for indeed it was Dan Ogle.
"Well?" said Captain Nat.
"Good evenin', cap'en," Dan answered, with an uncouth mixture of respectand familiarity. "I jist want five minutes with you."
"O, you do, do you?" replied the landlord, reaching behind himself toset the lamp on the table. "What is it? I've a notion I've seen youbefore."
"Very like, cap'en. It's all right; on'y business."
"Then what's the business?"
Dan Ogle glanced to left and right in the gloom of the alley, and edgeda step nearer. "Best spoke of indoors," he said, hoarsely. "Best for youan' me too. Nothin' to be afraid of--on'y business."
"Afraid of? Phoo! Come in, then."
Dan complied, with an awkward assumption of jaunty confidence, andCaptain Nat closed the door behind him.
"Nobody to listen, I suppose?" asked Ogle.
"No, nobody. Out with it!"
"Well, cap'en, just now you thought you'd seen me before. Quite right;so you have. You see me in the same place--just outside that there door.An' I borrowed your boat."
"Umph!" Captain Nat's eyes were keen and hard. "Is your name Dan Ogle?"
"That's it, cap'en." The voice was confident, but the eye was shifty."Now you know. A chap tried to do me, an' I put his light out. You wentfor me, an' chased me, but you stuck your hooks in the quids rightenough." Dan Ogle tried a grin and a wink, but Captain Nat's frown neverchanged.
"Well, well," Dan went on, after a pause, "it's all right, anyhow. Iouted the chap, an' you took care o' the ha'pence; so we helped eachother, an' done it atween us. I just come along to-night to cut it up."
"Cut up what?"
"Why, the stuff. Eight hundred an' ten quid in notes, in a leatherpocket-book. Though I ain't particular about the pocket-book." Dan triedanother grin. "Four hundred an' five quid'll be good enough for me:though it ought to be more, seein' I got it first, an' the risk an'all."
Captain Nat, with a foot on a chair and a hand on the raised knee,relaxed not a shade of his fierce gaze. "Who told you," he askedpresently, "that I had eight hundred an' ten pound in a leatherpocket-book?"
"O, a little bird--just a pretty little bird, cap'en."
"Tell me the name o' that pretty little bird."
"Lord lumme, cap'en, don't be bad pals! It ain't a little bird what'lldo any harm! It's all safe an' snug enough between us, an' I'm doin' iton the square, ain't I? I knowed about you, an' you didn't know aboutme; but I comes fair an' open, an' says it was me as done it, an' I on'ywant a fair share up between pals in a job together. That's all right,ain't it?"
"Was it a pretty little bird in a bonnet an' a plaid shawl? A scraggysort of a little bird with a red beak? The sort of little bird as likesto feather its nest with a cash-box--one as don't belong to it? Is thatyour pattern o' pretty little bird?"
"Well, well, s'pose it is, cap'en? Lord, don't be bad pals! I ain't, amI? Make things straight, an' I'll take care _she_ don't go apretty-birdin' about with the tale. I'll guarantee that, honourable. Youain't no need be afraid o' that."
"D'ye think I look afraid?"
"Love ye, cap'en, why, I didn't mean that! There ain't many what 'ud tryto frighten you. That ain't my tack. You're too hard a nut for _that_,anybody knows." Dan Ogle fidgeted uneasily with a hand about hisneck-cloth; while the other arm hung straight by his side. "But lookhere, now, cap'en," he went on; "you're a straight man, an' you don'tround on a chap as trusts you. That's right ain't it?"
"Well?" Truly Captain Nat's piercing stare, his unwavering frown, weredisconcerting. Dan Ogle had come confidently prepared to claim a shareof the plunder, just as he would have done from any rascal in Blue Gate.But, in presence of the man he knew for his master, he had had to beginwith no more assurance than he could force on himself; and now, thoughhe had met not a word of refusal, he was reduced well-nigh to pleading.But he saw the best opening, as by a flash of inspiration; and beyondthat he had another resource, if he could but find courage to use it.
"Well?" said Captain Nat.
"You're the sort as plays the square game with a man as trusts you,cap'en. Very well. _I've_ trusted you. I come an' put myself in yourway, an' told you free what I done, an' I ask, as man to man, for myfair whack o' the stuff. Bein' the straight man you are, you'll do thefair thing."
Captain Nat brought his foot down from the chair, and the knee fromunder his hand; and he clenched the hand on the table. But neithermovement disturbed his steady gaze. So he stood for three seconds. Then,with an instant dart, he had Dan Ogle by the hanging arm, just above thewrist.
Dan sprang and struggled, but his wrist might have been chained to apost. Twice he made offer to strike at Captain Nat's face with the freehand, but twice the blow fainted ere it had well begun. Tall andpowerful as he was, he knew himself no match for the old skipper. Pallidand staring, he whispered hoarsely: "No, cap'en--no! Drop it! Don't putme away! Don't crab the deal! D' y' 'ear----"
Captain Nat, grim and silent, slowly drew the imprisoned fore-armforward, and plucked a bare knife from within the sleeve. There wasblood on it, for his grip had squeezed arm and blade together.
"Umph!" growled Captain Nat; "I saw that in time, my lad"; and he stuckthe knife in the shelf behind him.
"S'elp me, cap'en, I wasn't meanin' anythink--s'elp me I wasn't," theruffian pleaded, cowering but vehement, with his neckerchief to his cutarm. "That's on'y where I carry it, s'elp me--on'y where I keep it!"
"Ah, I've seen it done before; but it's an awkward place if you get asqueeze," the skipper remarked drily. "Now you listen to me. You sayyou've come an' put yourself in my power, an' trusted me. So youhave--with a knife up your sleeve. But never mind that--I doubt if you'dha' had pluck to use it. You killed a man at my door, because of eighthundred pounds you'd got between you; but to get that money you had tokill another man first."
"No, cap'en, no----"
"Don't try to deny it, man! Why it's what's saving you! I know wherethat money come from--an' it's murder that got it. Marr was the man'sname, an' he was a murderer himself; him an' another between 'em ha'murdered my boy; murdered him on the high seas as much as if it waspistol or poison. He was doin' his duty, an' it's murder, I tellyou--murder, by the law of England! That man ought to ha' been hung, buthe wasn't, an' he never would ha' been. He'd ha' gone free, except foryou, an' made money of it. But you killed that man, Dan Ogle, an' youshall go free for it yourself; for that an' because I won't sell whatyou trusted me with about this other."
Captain Nat turned and took the knife from the shelf. "Now see," he wenton. "You've done justice on a murderer, little as you meant it; butdon't you come tryin' to take away the orphan's compensation--not asmuch as a penny of it! Don't you touch the compensation, or I'll giveyou up! I will that! Just you remember when you're safe. The man lied as
spoke to seein' you that night by the door; an' now he's gone back onit, an' so you've nothing to fear from him, an' nothing to fear from thepolice. Nothing to fear from anybody but me; so you take care, DanOgle!... Come, enough said!"
Captain Nat flung wide the door and pitched the knife into the outerdarkness. "There's your knife; go after it!"
The Hole in the Wall Page 21