CHAPTER XXV.

A NEW VISITOR AT CRAWFORD'S HOUSE.

When Red Jim saw Crawford hauled out of the water and aided up the side of the hulk his interest in maritime affairs was over. He had gone down to the end of the Pine Grove in the hope that Crawford would change his mind, and adopt the land route when he saw how uninviting the means of getting to the steamboat looked. In case Crawford came back he might fairly count on getting sixpence, surly as the other had been to him. But now there was no chance of anything good, not even of Crawford being drowned. Red Jim looked up at the sky as though reproaching heaven with doing him ill-turns, faced right about and began retracing his fruitless steps.

As he walked he reflected that it was not every day one saw a gentleman fall into the river and rescued. He had seen this sight to-day, and, moreover, as far as the shore was concerned, he had had the monopoly of the spectacle. Then after a long pause he asked himself was it not possible to convert his unique position into a little money?

Once more he turned those vacant blue eyes of his up to the sky, not this time, however, in reproach, but in appeal for light.

Suddenly he shook his head with the quick short jerk of determination, and quickened his pace. "Why, of course," he said out loud, "I'll go to Crawford's House, and tell them about it, and they'll give me a tanner for my kindness." So he hastened along until he arrived at the shabby green door, and then he knocked.

Hetty opened the door, and seeing a strange man, who looked as though he had a right to come there, concluded he had called about the ice-house. "O!" said she, "you've called about those gates, have you?"

"Hallo!" thought Jim, "there may be another tanner in this. Let's see." All Jim's thoughts ran on tanners. A shilling was two tanners, half-a-crown five, a sovereign ever so many. In the case between him and the young lady at the door caution was the great thing. He must take care not to commit himself. So he said nothing, but looked round as though in search of the gates.

"Come this way," said Hetty, observing the glance of search, "and I will show you the place."

"Yes, ma'am," said Red Jim, entering the house and following Hetty through it to the little quay beyond.

"These are the doorways that Mr. Crawford wishes to have boarded up," said Hetty, pronouncing the name with an effort, for she was still in tumult and perplexity about his visit and words.

"Yes, ma'am," said Red Jim with extreme deference, and looking full at her with his wide, open expressionless blue eyes, but moving no muscle, showing no sign of taking action.

The girl was highly strung, and his impassive stolidity irritated her.

"Well, what are you going to do?" she asked briskly.

"Whatever you like, ma'am," he answered with gallantry and impartiality.

"Whatever _I_ like!" she cried impatiently. "I have nothing to do with it. What did Mr. Crawford say to you about this place. There can be no mistake, I suppose--you saw him to-day?"

"I did."

"And what did he say to you about this?" pointing to the gaping gateway.

"Nothing."

The girl stared at him in angry surprise. "Then why did you come here?"

"To tell you, ma'am, that Mr. Crawford fell in the river. I thought you'd like to know that."

"Mr. Crawford fell into the river! You thought _I_ would like to know _that!_ What do you mean?" Hetty was beginning to get confused and a little frightened. There was first of all Crawford's visit, then his account of his horrible dream of her drowning, then his strange, impudent words to her; now came this dreadful-looking man to say that _Crawford_ had fallen into the river, and, last of all, she would be glad to hear he had fallen into the river? "Why do you think I would be glad to hear that Mr. Crawford fell into the river?"

"Well, he lives here, and when people fall into the river the folk they live with are mostly glad to hear of it."

"O," thought the girl, with a feeling of relief at finding that no mysterious net was closing round her, "so you only came to tell me the news?"

"And to tell you more news."

"What is it?"

"That he was got out again."

"Of course."

"But you didn't know until I told you."

"Certainly I did. If he hadn't been taken out you would have said he was drowned."

This was a sore blow to Red Jim. It had occurred to him as a brilliant idea to split up his news into two parts. First, that Crawford had fallen in; second, that Crawford had been dragged out. He had a vague hope that, treated in this way, the news might be worth two tanners, as it consisted of two items. It now occurred to him that in future he ought to say a man was drowned, get his reward, and then, as a second item, say that it had been for a long time believed he was drowned, but that it was at last found out he wasn't. In the present case, however, he thought he had better make the best of things as they were. He told her then exactly what had happened as far as he had been able to see, and assured her he had run every step of the way and was mortal dry, and he hoped she'd consider his trouble and good intentions.

She gave him sixpence.

"And how much this job, ma'am? he asked, pointing to the gateways.

"I have nothing to do with that. When you knocked I thought Mr. Crawford had sent you."

"Well, he as good as sent me. Only he fell in, I'd never have come here."

"But you have done nothing, and you are to do nothing, and I have nothing to do with it," said the girl, a little apprehensively. They were alone on the quay at the back of the house, and there was not a soul in the house but herself and this ragged, rugged, red-bearded, rusty-necked man, who was asking her for money he had no claim to, and asking her for it on, no doubt, the knowledge of their isolation.

"There's my time, though, ma'am," said Red Jim firmly. "You call me in, and you say there's the gate, and I do all I can for you."

"But you have done nothing at all. Why should I pay you for doing nothing? I thought you were Mr. Crawford's man."

The girl was now becoming fairly alarmed. Suppose this horrible man should become violent?

"Some one must pay me for my time, ma'am. I'm only a poor labouring man trying to earn his bread, and if people go and take up my time, how am I to earn my bread by the sweat of my brow, or any other way? That's what I want to know."

He stood in front of her: between her and the door of the house.

The girl now became fairly frightened. She was by no means timid by nature. But here was she hidden from the view of any one, alone with this rugged, threatening, desperate man. No one on the tow-path could see them, because Boland's Ait intervened. Worst of all, she had not any money. The sixpence she had given him was the last coin in her possession; still, she tried to look brave.

"If you want any money for this job as you call it, go to Mr. Crawford for it."

"How do I know where to find Mr. Crawford?"

"He lives at Richmond."

"He lives here, and my principle is cash--no tick. A nice thing, indeed, to expect a poor labouring man to give his time and anxiety of mind to jobs, and then tell him to go to Richmond for his money! Is that justice or fair-play?"

"Well, I tell you that you must go to him. I have no money." She was beginning to feel faint and giddy.

"No money, and live in a house like that!" he cried, pointing up to the old dilapidated habitation to which the late owner of the place had given his name. "Why, how could any one keep up a house like that without lots of money?"

Red Jim's notion of the probable financial result of this interview had enlarged considerably since it had begun. He had talked himself into the conviction that he had an honest claim for compensation for loss of time, and he saw that they were in a lonely place, that this girl was frightened, and that there was no succour for her near at hand. He now put down the result of his inspection of the ice-house at four tanners.

"I tell you I have no money," she repeated, feeling sick, "and you must go away at once."

"Look here, ma'am; what am I going to do with the rest of my day if I get nothing for this?" He hadn't done a day's work for months. "The rest of my day is no sort of use to me. I own I haven't been here half a day, but half a day is gone, all the same, and I couldn't think of taking less than two shillings; it's against the rules of my Society to take less that two shillings for half a day, anyhow."

"I tell you once for all, I have no money."

She began to tremble. She had never before been in such an alarming situation as this. She was afraid to threaten lest he should at once seize her and fling her headlong into the ice-house, where there would be no William Crawford or anybody else to rescue her. She could have borne the thought of death with comparative fortitude, but the girl's dainty senses revolted from the notion of contact with this foul and hideous being. She felt that if he touched her she should die.

"Nice thing for you to say!" cried the man angrily. "Take a poor man in here and steal--yes, steal--half a day from him, and then say you have no money!"

Up to this he had been importunate, then angry, but he had not threatened. Now he advanced a step, and shaking his fist at her, said:

"Look here, if you don't just pay me what you owe me I'll----"

The girl screamed, and at the same time, as if by magic, Red Jim disappeared from her sight.

She looked down.

Red Jim was rolling and writhing on the ground, felled by a blow from behind.

She looked up. Francis Bramwell stood before her, pallid with indignation.

"This blackguard has been annoying you, Miss Layard," said he, spurning the prostrate man with his foot.

"O, thank you, Mr. Bramwell! I thought he was going to kill me."

"I came out to fetch Freddie back, but found it wasn't quite time, and then I heard your voice and this wretch's angry words, and came round and crossed. He hasn't _touched_ you?" asked Bramwell fiercely. The whole man was roused now, and he looked large in stature and irresistible in force.

"O, no! He has not touched me, but he threatened me, and I felt as though I should die."

"What shall I do with him. Give him to the police?"

"Don't do that, guv'nor," said the prostrate man. He had made no attempt to rise. He did not want to have his other ear deaf and the inside of his head at the other side ringing like a sledge-bell. "Don't do that, guv'nor, for they have something against me about a trifle of canvas and a few copper bolts I never had anything to do with."

"Very well. Now, Miss Layard, if you will go into the house, I'll attend to this gentleman. I shall take him across my place to the tow-path, and then come back to see how you are."

"But you won't harm him, Mr. Bramwell?" asked Hetty in a tremulous voice as she moved away.

"You hear what the lady says?" whined Jim. "Good, kind lady, don't go away and leave me to him. He has half killed me already, and if you leave me to him he'll murder me. Do let me go through your house. I was only joking. Indeed, it was only a little joke, and I only went on as I did to make your beautiful face smile. That's all, indeed."

"I promise you, Miss Layard, not to hurt him in the least. He shall be much better off when he leaves me than he is now."

Hetty went into the house.

"He's going to pay me the half day's wages," thought Jim, as at Bramwell's bidding he rose from the ground and crossed over to Boland's Ait. Bramwell led the way to the canal side of the islet.

"How much did you claim from that lady?" asked Bramwell, who knew nothing of the justness of the demand.

"Two shillings, fairly earned and fairly due," answered Jim, his heart expanding under the hope of tanners. "You will not keep a poor working man out of his own?"

"I'll pay you. But first you must answer me one question: Can you swim?" He took a two-shilling piece out of his pocket.

"I can, sir," said Jim eagerly. "I can do almost anything."

Bramwell flung the coin across the canal to the tow-path, crying, "Then swim for that."

"But, sir----"

"In you go, clothes and all, and if ever I find you here again I'll hand you over to your friends the police. Don't keep standing there, or I'll heave you in. Do as you are told, sir. The washing and cooling will do you good."

And seeing there was no chance of escape, and fearing some one might come by and steal the coin, Red Jim dived into the dark turbid waters and crossed to the opposite shore.

When Bramwell saw the man safely out of the canal he turned away, and, having crossed by the stage, entered for the first time Crawford's House--the house of the man who had wrecked his home and his happiness and his life three years before.