'I have no coppers,' I said hastily.'I am in a hurry besides,' Iadded as I walked on.
'Come, come!' he said, getting up with me in a moment, 'that ain't a civil answer to give a cove after his lush, that 'ain't got a blessed mag.'
As he spoke he laid his hand rather heavily on my arm.He was a lumpy-looking individual, like a groom who had been discharged for stealing his horse's provender, and had not quite worn out the clothes he had brought with him.From the opposite side at the same moment, another man appeared, low in stature, pale, and marked with the small-pox.
He advanced upon me at right angles.I shook off the hand of the first, and I confess would have taken to my heels, for more reasons than one, but almost before I was clear of him, the other came against me, and shoved me into one of the low-browed entries which abounded.
I was so eager to follow my chase that I acted foolishly throughout.
I ought to have emptied my pockets at once; but I was unwilling to lose a watch which was an old family piece, and of value besides.
'Come, come! I don't carry a barrel of ale in my pocket,' I said, thinking to keep them in good-humour.I know better now.Some of these roughs will take all you have in the most good-humoured way in the world, bandying chaff with you all the time.I had got amongst another set, however.
'Leastways you've got as good,' said a third, approaching from the court, as villanous-looking a fellow as I have ever seen.
'This is hardly the right way to ask for it,' I said, looking out for a chance of bolting, but putting my hand in my pocket at the same time.I confess again I acted very stupidly throughout the whole affair, but it was my first experience.
'It's a way we've got down here, anyhow,' said the third with a brutal laugh.'Look out, Savoury Sam,' he added to one of them.
'Now I don't want to hurt you,' struck in the first, coming nearer, 'but if you gives tongue, I'll make cold meat of you, and gouge your pockets at my leisure, before ever a blueskin can turn the corner.'
Two or three more came sidling up with their hands in their pockets.
'What have you got there, Slicer?' said one of them, addressing the third, who looked like a ticket-of-leave man.
'We've cotched a pig-headed counter-jumper here, that didn't know Jim there from a man-trap, and went by him as if he'd been a bull-dog on a long-chain.He wants to fight cocum.But we won't trouble him.We'll help ourselves.Shell out now.'
As he spoke he made a snatch at my watch-chain.I forgot myself and hit him.The same moment I received a blow on the head, and felt the blood running down my face.I did not quite lose my senses, though, for I remember seeing yet another man--a tall fellow, coming out of the gloom of the court.How it came into my mind, I do not know, and what I said I do not remember, but I must have mentioned Falconer's name somehow.
The man they called Slicer, said,'Who's he? Don't know the--.'
Words followed which I cannot write.
'What! you devil's gossoon!' returned an Irish voice I had not heard before.'You don't know Long Bob, you gonnof!'
All that passed I heard distinctly, but I was in a half faint, Isuppose, for I could no longer see.
'Now what the devil in a dice-box do you mean?' said Slicer, possessing himself of my watch.'Who is the blasted cove?--not that I care a flash of damnation.'
'A man as 'll knock you down if he thinks you want it, or give you a half-a-crown if he thinks you want it--all's one to him, only he'll have the choosing which.'
'What the hell's that to me? Look spry.He mustn't lie there all night.It's too near the ken.Come along, you Scotch haddock.'
I was aware of a kick in the side as he spoke.
'I tell you what it is, Slicer,' said one whose voice I had not yet heard, 'if so be this gentleman's a friend of Long Bob, you just let him alone, I say.'
I opened my eyes now, and saw before me a tall rather slender man in a big loose dress-coat, to whom Slicer had turned with the words,'You say! Ha! ha! Well, I say--There's my Scotch haddock! who'll touch him?'
'I'll take him home,' said the tall man, advancing towards me.Imade an attempt to rise.But I grew deadly ill, fell back, and remember nothing more.
When I came to myself I was lying on a bed in a miserable place.Amiddle-aged woman of degraded countenance, but kindly eyes, was putting something to my mouth with a teaspoon: I knew it by the smell to be gin.But I could not yet move.They began to talk about me, and I lay and listened.Indeed, while I listened, I lost for a time all inclination to get up, I was so much interested in what I heard.
'He's comin' to hisself,' said the woman.'He'll be all right by and by.I wonder what brings the likes of him into the likes of this place.It must look a kind of hell to them gentle-folks, though we manage to live and die in it.'
'I suppose,' said another, 'he's come on some of Mr.Falconer's business.'
'That's why Job's took him in charge.They say he was after somebody or other, they think.--No friend of Mr.Falconer's would be after another for any mischief,' said my hostess.
'But who is this Mr.Falconer?--Is Long Bob and he both the same alias?' asked a third.
'Why, Bessy, ain't you no better than that damned Slicer, who ought to ha' been hung up to dry this many a year? But to be sure you 'ain't been long in our quarter.Why, every child hereabouts knows Mr.Falconer.Ask Bobby there.'
'Who's Mr.Falconer, Bobby?'
A child's voice made reply,'A man with a long, long beard, that goes about, and sometimes grows tired and sits on a door-step.I see him once.But he ain't Mr.
Falconer, nor Long Bob neither,' added Bobby in a mysterious tone.
'I know who he is.'
'What do you mean, Bobby? Who is he, then?'
The child answered very slowly and solemnly,'He's Jesus Christ.'
The woman burst into a rude laugh.