Brownsmith's Boy Part 35

I was in happy ignorance just then that I had followed the boy into one of the vilest and most dangerous parts of London in those days,--to wit a Drury Lane court, one of the refuges of some of the worst characters in that district.

In this ignorance I was still observant, and noticed that the doors on each side of the dirty court stood wide open, while the yell set up by the children brought people to some of the open windows.

That was all seen in a glance, as I made for the open door at the end, before which a boy of my own size ran as if to stop me; but even if I had wished to stop just then I could not, and I gave him a sharp push, the weight of my body driving him back into a sitting position as I stumbled in from the pavement, up a couple of stone steps, and on to the boards of the narrow pa.s.sage, which seemed, by contrast to the bright sunshine outside, quite dark.

I did not stop, but went on as if by instinct to the end, pa.s.sed a flight of steps leading down to the cellar kitchen, up which came a noisome odour that turned me sick, and began to ascend the stairs before me.

Then I paused for a moment with my hand on a sticky bal.u.s.trade and listened.

Yes! I was quite right, for up above me I could hear the stairs creaking as if some one was going up; and to make me the more sure that the boy had not entered a room I could hear his hoa.r.s.e panting, accompanied by a faint whimpering cry, as if every moment or two he kept saying softly, "Oh!"

That satisfied me, and as fast as I could I went up one flight and then another of dirty creaking stairs and found myself on the first floor.

Then up another flight, dirtier, more creaking, and with the woodwork broken away here and there.

Up another flight worse still, and by the light of a staircase window I could see that the plaster ceiling was down here and there, showing the laths, while the wall was blackened by hands pa.s.sing over it. On the handrail side the bal.u.s.ters were broken out entirely in the most dangerous way; but all this seemed of no consequence whatever, for there was the boy still going on, evidently to the very top of the house.

All at once there was silence above me, and I thought he must have gone, but he was only listening, and as he heard me coming he uttered a faint cry, and went on up whimpering, evidently so much exhausted by the long chase that he could hardly drag himself up higher.

By this time I was up to the second floor, where there were a couple of battered doors and another staircase window nearly without gla.s.s, the broken panes being covered with paper pasted on, or else, fortunately for the inhabitants of the noisome place, left open for the air to blow through.

I ought to have stopped; in fact I ought never to have gone; but I was too much excited by my chase to think of anything but getting hold of that boy and shaking him till he dropped our new rope; and now as I began to toil breathlessly up the last flight I knew that my task was done, for my young enemy could hardly crawl, and had begun to sob and whine, and I could just make out:

"You'd best let me be--I--I--ain't--I ain't done--done--"

I heard no more, only that doors were being thrown open, and there was a buzz of voices below, with heavy footsteps in the pa.s.sage.

Still that did not seem to have anything to do with me, so intent was I on my pursuit up those last two flights of stairs, which seemed to be steeper, more broken, and more difficult to climb than those which had gone before. In fact the boy above me was dragging himself up, and I had settled down into a walk, helping myself on by the dirty hand-rail, and panting so hoa.r.s.ely that each breath came to be a snore. My heart, too, throbbed heavily, and seemed to be beating right up into my throat.

I had gained on my quarry, so that we were on the last flight together, and this gave me the requisite strength for the last climb, for I knew that he could go no further.

Half-way up and there was a sloping ceiling above, in which was a blackened skylight, across which was a string and some dirty white garments hanging to dry, while to right and to left there were doors that had been painted black for reasons full of wisdom; and as my head rose higher I saw the boy who had literally crawled up on to the landing, rise up, with the rope still upon his arm, and fling himself against the farthest of these two doors.

It flew open with a crash, and then seemed to be banged to heavily, but it was against me, for, summoning up all my remaining strength, I reached the top, and imitating the boy's action, the door came back upon my hands, and was dashed open again.

I almost tumbled in, staggering forward, and hardly able to keep upon my legs, so that I nearly reached the middle of the room before I was aware that the boy was cowering down in a corner upon our rope, and that a big scowling stubble-chinned man had just risen dressed from a bed on which he had lain, to catch me by the shoulders in a tremendous grip, and hold me backwards panting like some newly captured bird.

I noticed that the man wore a great sleeved waistcoat, breeches, and heavy boots, and that his low forehead was puckered up into an ugly scowl, with one great wrinkle across it that seemed like another mouth as he forced me right back against the wall, and held me shivering there.

"Here, shet that there door, Polly," he said in a low harsh growl, like the snarl of a wild beast. Then to me:

"Here, what d'yer mean a-comin' in here, eh?"

He accompanied his words with a fierce shake that made the back of my head tap against the wall.

For a few moments the man's savage look seemed to fascinate me, and I felt horribly alarmed, as I could think for the moment about nothing but the Ogre and Hop-o'-my-thumb, and wonder whether he was going to take out a big knife and threaten me. I was still panting and breathless with my exertions, and there was a curious pain in my legs, mingled with a sensation as if they were going to double up under me, but I made an effort to be brave as the great heavy-browed scoundrel gave me another shake, and said:--

"D'yer hear? What d'yer mean by banging into my room like that 'ere?"

I glanced at a sad-faced dull-eyed slatternly woman who had closed the door, and then at the boy, who still crouched close up under the window, whimpering like a whipped dog, but keenly watching all that was going on with his sharp restless dark eyes; then, making a determined attempt to be braver than I looked, I said as stoutly as I could:

"I want our new rope. He stole our new rope."

"Who stole yer noo rope!" cried the fellow, giving me another shake; "what d'yer mean?"

"He took our rope off the cart in Covent Garden this morning," I cried, feeling angry now.

"Why, he ain't been out o' the court this morning," said the fellow sharply; "have yer, Micky?"

"No, father," said the boy.

"Jest up, ain't he, missus?" continued my captor, turning to the heavy-eyed woman.

"Yes, just up," said the woman in a low mechanical voice, and then with more animation, "Let him go, Ned."

"You mind yer own business," said the fellow savagely; then to me, "Now, then, d'yer hear that?"

"I don't care; he did," I said firmly. "He stole our rope--that's it, you give it me directly."

"What! that?" he cried. "You're a nice un, you are. Why, that's my rope, as 'longs to my donnerkey-cart. Don't you come lying here."

"I tell you that's our rope, and I saw him steal it," I cried, growing stronger now. "You let me go, and give me my rope, or I'll tell the police."

"Why, you never had no rope, yer young liar!" he cried.

"It's my master's rope," I said, struggling to get free. "I will have it."

"What! yer'd steal it, would yer? Yer'd tell the polliss, would yer!"

growled the fellow, tightening his grip; "I'll soon see about that.

Here you, Micky, bring that there rope here."

The boy struggled to his feet, and came slowly to us with the rope, which the man scanned eagerly.

"I don't want to make no mistakes," he growled. "Let's see it. If it's your rope, you shall have it, but--now then! d'yer hear?"

This was to the boy, who took advantage of my helpless position to give me a couple of savage kicks in the leg as he stood there; but as he had no shoes on, the kicks did not do much harm.

"Why, o' course it is our rope," growled the fellow. "Gahn with you, what d'yer mean by coming here with a tale like that?"

He gave me a shake, and the woman interfered.

"Let him go, Ned," she said, "or ther'll be a row."

The man took one hand from my shoulder, and doubled his great fist, which he held close to the woman's face in a menacing way. Then turning sharply he made believe to strike me with all his might right in the mouth, when, as I flinched, he growled out with a savage grin:

"Ah! yer know'd yer deserved it. Now I dunno whether I'm going to keep yer here, or whether I shall let yer go; but whichever I does, don't you go a sweering that this here's your rope, a cause it's mine. D'yer hear, mine?"

The door was kicked open at that moment, and a couple of the rough-looking fellows I had seen at the entrance to the court stood half inside, leaning against the door-posts and looking stolidly on.