by W. W. Jacobs
proceedings when he entered it were but a poor compliment to hishost. Not until he had poked and pried into every corner did he closethe door. Then, not content with locking it, he tilted a chair beneaththe handle, and placing his pistol beneath his pillow, fell fast asleep.
Despite his fatigue he was early astir next morning. Breakfast was laidfor him in the coffee-room, and his brow darkened. He walked into thehall, and after trying various doors entered a small sitting-room, wherehis host and daughter sat at breakfast, and with an easy assurance drew achair to the table. The innkeeper helped him without a word, but thegirl's hand shook under his gaze as she passed him some coffee.
"As soft a bed as ever I slept in," he remarked.
"I hope that you slept well," said the girl, civilly.
"Like a child," said Gunn, gravely; "an easy conscience. Eh, Mullet?"
The innkeeper nodded and went on eating. The other, after another remarkor two, followed his example, glancing occasionally with warm approval atthe beauty of the girl who sat at the head of the table.
"A sweet girl," he remarked, as she withdrew at the end of the meal; "andno mother, I presume?"
"No mother," repeated the other.
Gunn sighed and shook his head.
"A sad case, truly," he murmured. "No mother and such a guardian. Poorsoul, if she but knew! Well, we must find her a husband."
He looked down as he spoke, and catching sight of his rusty clothes andbroken shoes, clapped his hand to his pocket; and with a glance at hishost, sallied out to renew his wardrobe. The innkeeper, with aninscrutable face, watched him down the quay, then with bent head hereturned to the house and fell to work on his accounts.
In this work Gunn, returning an hour later, clad from head to foot in newapparel, offered to assist him. Mullett hesitated, but made no demur;neither did he join in the ecstasies which his new partner displayed atthe sight of the profits. Gunn put some more gold into his new pockets,and throwing himself back in a chair, called loudly to George to bringhim some drink.
In less than a month the intruder was the virtual master of the "GoldenKey." Resistance on the part of the legitimate owner became more andmore feeble, the slightest objection on his part drawing from thetruculent Gunn dark allusions to his past and threats against his future,which for the sake of his daughter he could not ignore. His health beganto fail, and Joan watched with perplexed terror the growth of a situationwhich was in a fair way of becoming unbearable.
The arrogance of Gunn knew no bounds. The maids learned to tremble athis polite grin, or his worse freedom, and the men shrank appalled fromhis profane wrath. George, after ten years' service, was brutallydismissed, and refusing to accept dismissal from his hands, appealed tohis master. The innkeeper confirmed it, and with lack-lustre eyes fencedfeebly when his daughter, regardless of Gunn's presence, indignantlyappealed to him.
"The man was rude to my friend, my dear," he said dispiritedly
"If he was rude, it was because Mr. Gunn deserved it," said Joan, hotly.
Gunn laughed uproariously.
"Gad, my dear, I like you!" he cried, slapping his leg. "You're a girlof spirit. Now I will make you a fair offer. If you ask for George tostay, stay he shall, as a favour to your sweet self."
The girl trembled.
"Who is master here?" she demanded, turning a full eye on her father.
Mullet laughed uneasily.
"This is business," he said, trying to speak lightly, "and women can'tunderstand it. Gunn is--is valuable to me, and George must go."
"Unless you plead for him, sweet one?" said Gunn.
The girl looked at her father again, but he turned his head away andtapped on the floor with his foot. Then in perplexity, akin to tears,she walked from the room, carefully drawing her dress aside as Gunn heldthe door for her.
"A fine girl," said Gunn, his thin lips working; "a fine spirit. 'Twillbe pleasant to break it; but she does not know who is master here."
"She is young yet," said the other, hurriedly.
"I will soon age her if she looks like that at me again," said Gunn. "By---, I'll turn out the whole crew into the street, and her with them, an'I wish it. I'll lie in my bed warm o' nights and think of her huddled ona doorstep."
His voice rose and his fists clenched, but he kept his distance andwatched the other warily. The innkeeper's face was contorted and hisbrow grew wet. For one moment something peeped out of his eyes; the nexthe sat down in his chair again and nervously fingered his chin.
"I have but to speak," said Gunn, regarding him with much satisfaction,"and you will hang, and your money go to the Crown. What will become ofher then, think you?"
The other laughed nervously.
"'Twould be stopping the golden eggs," he ventured.
"Don't think too much of that," said Gunn, in a hard voice. "I was neverone to be baulked, as you know."
"Come, come. Let us be friends," said Mullet; "the girl is young, andhas had her way."
He looked almost pleadingly at the other, and his voice trembled. Gunndrew himself up, and regarding him with a satisfied sneer, quitted theroom without a word.
Affairs at the "Golden Key" grew steadily worse and worse. Gunndominated the place, and his vile personality hung over it like a shadow.Appeals to the innkeeper were in vain; his health was breaking fast, andhe moodily declined to interfere. Gunn appointed servants of his ownchoosing-brazen maids and foul-mouthed men. The old patrons ceased tofrequent the "Golden Key," and its bedrooms stood empty. The maidsscarcely deigned to take an order from Joan, and the men spoke to herfamiliarly. In the midst of all this the innkeeper, who had complainedonce or twice of vertigo, was seized with a fit.
Joan, flying to him for protection against the brutal advances of Gunn,found him lying in a heap behind the door of his small office, and in herfear called loudly for assistance. A little knot of servants collected,and stood regarding him stupidly. One made a brutal jest. Gunn,pressing through the throng, turned the senseless body over with hisfoot, and cursing vilely, ordered them to carry it upstairs.
Until the surgeon came, Joan, kneeling by the bed, held on to thesenseless hand as her only protection against the evil faces of Gunn andhis proteges. Gunn himself was taken aback, the innkeeper's death atthat time by no means suiting his aims.
The surgeon was a man of few words and fewer attainments, but under hisministrations the innkeeper, after a long interval, rallied. The half-closed eyes opened, and he looked in a dazed fashion at his surroundings.Gunn drove the servants away and questioned the man of medicine. Theanswers were vague and interspersed with Latin. Freedom from noise andtroubles of all kinds was insisted upon and Joan was installed as nurse,with a promise of speedy assistance.
The assistance arrived late in the day in the shape of an elderly woman,whose Spartan treatment of her patients had helped many along the silentroad. She commenced her reign by punching the sick man's pillows, andhaving shaken him into consciousness by this means, gave him a dose ofphysic, after first tasting it herself from the bottle.
After the first rally the innkeeper began to fail slowly. It was seldomthat he understood what was said to him, and pitiful to the beholder tosee in his intervals of consciousness his timid anxiety to earn the good-will of the all-powerful Gunn. His strength declined until assistancewas needed to turn him in the bed, and his great sinewy hands wereforever trembling and fidgeting on the coverlet.
Joan, pale with grief and fear, tended him assiduously. Her stepfather'sstrength had been a proverb in the town, and many a hasty citizen hadfelt the strength of his arm. The increasing lawlessness of the housefilled her with dismay, and the coarse attentions of Gunn became morepersistent than ever. She took her meals in the sick-room, and dividedher time between that and her own.
Gunn himself was in a dilemma. With Mullet dead, his power was at an endand his visions of wealth dissipated. He resolved to feather his nestimmediately, and interviewed the surgeon. The surgeon was ominously
reticent, the nurse cheerfully ghoulish.
"Four days I give him," she said, calmly; "four blessed days, not butwhat he might slip away at any moment."
Gunn let one day of the four pass, and then, choosing a time when Joanwas from the room, entered it for a little quiet conversation. Theinnkeeper's eyes were open, and, what was more to the purpose,intelligent.
"You're cheating the hangman, after all," snarled Gunn. "I'm off toswear an information."
The other, by a great effort, turned his heavy head and fixed his wistfuleyes on him.
"Mercy!" he whispered. "For her sake--give me--a little time!"
"To slip your cable, I suppose," quoth Gunn. "Where's your