Johnny Ludlow Third Series Part 47

She don't need to act it, neither; I give her a whole ten shillings t'other day, and she went and laid it out at Alcester."

No doubt. Any amount of shillings would soon be sacrificed to Ann's vanity.

"How much longer is that thing going to take, Dovey?" interposed Stirling.

"Just about two minutes, sir. 'Twere a cranky---- There he goes."

The break in Dovey's answer was caused by the appearance of Jellico. He came out, shouldering his pack. The blacksmith looked after him down the Cut, and saw him turn in elsewhere.

"I thought 'twas where he was going," said he; "'tain't often he pa.s.ses that there dwelling. Other houses seem to have their days, turn and turn about; but that 'un gets him constant."

"It's where Bird's wife lives, is it not, Dovey?"

"It's where she lives, fast enough, sir. And Bird, he be safe at his over-looking work, five miles off, without fear of his popping in home to hinder the dealing and chaffering. But she'd better mind--though Bird do get a'most three pound a-week, he have got means for every sixpence of it, with his peck o' childern, six young 'uns of her'n, and six of his first wife's, and no more'n one on 'em yet able to earn a penny-piece. If Bird thought she was running up a score with Jellico, he'd give her two black eyes as soon as look at her."

"Bird's wife never seems to have any good clothes at all; she looks as if she hadn't a decent gown to her back," said Frank.

"What she buys is mostly things for the little 'uns: shimmys and pinafores, and that," replied Dovey. "Letty Bird's one o' them that's more improvidenter than a body of any sense 'ud believe, Master Stirling; she never has a coin by the Wednesday night, she hasn't. The little 'uns 'ud be a-rolling naked in the gutter, but for what she gets on tick off Jellico; and Bird, seeing 'em naked, might beat her for that. That don't mend the system; the score's a-being run up, and it'll bring trouble sometime as sure as a gun. Beside that, if there was no Jellico to serve her with his poison, she'd _have_ to save enough for decent clothes. Don't you see how the thing works, sir?"

"Oh, I see," carelessly answered Stirling. "D'ye call the pack's wares poison, Dovey?"

"Yes, I do," said Dovey, stoutly, as he handed Frank his iron. "They'll poison the peace o' many a household in this here Cut. You two young gents just look out else, and see."

We came away with the iron. At the end of Piefinch Lane, Frank Stirling took the road to the Court, and I turned into Reed's. The wife was by herself then, giving the children their early tea.

"Reed shall come up to the Manor as soon as he gets home, sir," she said, in answer to Tod's message.

"I was here before this afternoon, Mrs. Reed, and couldn't get in. You were too busy to hear me at the door."

The knife halted in the bread she was cutting, and she glanced up for a moment; but seemed to think nothing, and finished the slice.

"I've been very busy, Master Ludlow. I'm sorry you've had to come twice, sir."

"Busy enough, I should say, with Jellico's pack emptied on the table, and you and the rest buying up at steam pace."

The words were out of my lips before I saw her startled gesture of caution, pointing to the children: it was plain they were not to know anything about Jellico. She had an honest face, but it turned scarlet.

"Do you think it is a good plan, Mrs. Reed, to get things upon trust, and have to make up money for them weekly?" I could not help saying to her as she came to the door.

"I'm beginning to doubt whether it is, sir."

"If Reed thought he had a debt hanging over him, that might fall at any moment----"

"For the love of mercy, sir, don't say nothing to Reed!" came the startled interruption. "You won't, will you, Master Johnny?"

"Not I. Don't fear. But if I were you, Mrs. Reed, for my own sake I should cut all connection with Jellico. Better deal at a fair shop."

She nodded her head as I went through the gate; but her face had now turned to a sickly whiteness that spoke of terror. Was the woman so deep in the dangerous books already?

Reed came up in the evening, and Tod showed him what he wanted done. As the man was measuring the trellis-work, Hannah happened to pa.s.s. She asked him how he was getting on.

"Amongst the middlings," answered Reed, shortly. "I was a bit put out just now."

"What by?" asked Hannah, who said anything she chose before me without the smallest ceremony: and Tod had gone away.

"As I was coming up here, Ingram stops me, and asks if I couldn't let him have the bit of money I owed him. I stared at the man: what money was I likely to owe him----"

"Ingram the cow-keeper?" interrupted Hannah.

"Ingram the cow-keeper. So, talking a bit, I found there was a matter of six shillings due to him for the children's milk: it was ever so long since my wife had paid. Back I went to her at once to know the reason why--and it was that made me late in coming up here, Master Johnny."

"I suppose he had sold her skim milk for new, and she thought she'd make him wait for his money," returned Hannah.

"All she said to me was that she didn't think it had been running so long; Ingram had said to me that she always told him she was short of money and couldn't pay," answered Reed. "Anyway, I don't think she'll let it run on again. It put me out, though. I'd rather go off into the workhouse, or die of starvation, than I'd let it be said in the place my wife didn't pay as she went on."

_I_ saw through the difficulty, and should have liked to give Reed a hint touching Jellico.

Now it was rather strange that, all in two days, Jellico and the mischief he was working should be thus brought before me in three or four ways, considering that I had never in my life before heard of the man. But it chanced to be so. I don't want to say anything about the man personally, good or bad; the mischief lay in the system. That Jellico sold his goods at a nice rate for dearness, and used persuasion with the women to buy them, was as plain as the sun at noonday; but in these respects he was no worse than are many other people in trade. He went to the houses in turn, and the women met him; it might be several weeks before the meeting was held at Mrs. Reed's again. Ann Dovey could not enjoy the hospitality of receiving him at hers, as her husband's work lay at home. But she was a constant visitor to the other places.

And the time went on; and Mr. Jellico's trade flourished. But we heard nothing more about it at d.y.k.e Manor, and I naturally forgot it.

II.

"Just six shillings on it, Mr. Figg! That's all I want to-day, but I can't do without that."

That so well-conducted and tidy a woman as George Reed's wife should be in what the Cut called familiarly the "p.a.w.nshop," would have surprised every one not in the secret. But she it was. Mr. Figg, a little man with weak eyes and a few scattered locks of light hair, turned over the offered loan with his finger and thumb. A grey gown of some kind of woollen stuff.

"How many times have this here gownd been brought here, Mrs. Reed?"

asked he.

"I haven't counted 'em," she sighed. "Why? What's that got to do with it?"

"'Cause it's a proof as it must be getting the worse for wear," was the answer, given disparagingly.

"It's just as good as it was the day I had it out o' Jellico's pack,"

said Mrs. Reed, sadly subdued, as of late she had always seemed.

Mr. Figg held up the gown to the light, seeking for the parts in it most likely to be worn. "Look here," said he. "What d'ye call that?"

There was a little fraying certainly in places. Mrs. Reed had eyes and could see it. She did not answer.

"It don't stand to reason as a gownd will wear for ever and show no marks. You puts this here gownd in of a Wednesday morning, or so, and gets it out of a Sat.u.r.day night to wear Sundays. Wear and tear _is_ wear and tear."

Mrs. Reed could not deny the accusation. All the available articles her home contained; that is, the few her husband was not likely to observe the absence of; together with as much of her own wardrobe as she could by any shift do without, were already on a visit to Mr. Figg; which visit, according to the present look-out, promised to be permanent. This gown was obliged to be taken out periodically. Had she not appeared decent on Sundays, her husband would have demanded the reason why.

"You've gave me six shillings on it before," she argued.

"Can't again. Don't mind lending five; next week it'll be but four. It wasn't never worth more nor ten new," added Mr. Figg loudly, to drown remonstrances.