Our Admirable Betty Part 70

"'Tis her grat.i.tood, sir," he explained, "on account o' Mr. Jennings me having kicked same, as dooly reported."

"An ill place for the likes o' your honour," croaked the old woman, "an evil place for evil men as will be here anon--the rogues, the fools!

They think old Betty's blind and deaf--the rogues! Come, dearies, the moon's up and wi' the moon comes evil so get ye above--yonder, yonder and mum, dearies, mum!" As she spoke old Betty pointed to a corner of the dingy chamber where a rickety ladder gave access to a square opening above. "Go ye up, dearies and ye shall see, ye shall hear, aha--but mum, dearies, mum!"

Forthwith they mounted the ladder and so found themselves in a small, dark loft full of the smell of rotting wood and dank decay. Above their heads stars winked through holes in the mouldering thatch, beneath their feet the rotten flooring showed great rents and fissures here and there through which struck the pallid beams of the twinkling rushlight in the room below.

"G.o.d bless my soul!" exclaimed the Major, "does this pestiferous ruin belong to me, Zeb?"

"Well, I don't rightly know, your honour, 'tis a mile and a half out o'

the village d'ye see, and hath stood empty for years and years they do tell me, on account of a murder as was done here, and n.o.body would live here till old Betty come. Folk do say the place is haunted and there be few as dare come nigh the place after dark. But old Betty, being a powerful witch d'ye see sir, aren't nowise afeard of any ghost, gobling nor apparation as ever--ssh!"

Upon the night without, was a sound of voices that grew ever louder, the one hoa.r.s.e and querulous the other upraised in quavering song:

"O 'tis bien bowse, 'tis bien bowse, Too little is my skew.

I bowse no lage, but one whole gage O' this I'll bowse to you----"

"Stow the chaunting, Jerry!" growled the hoa.r.s.e voice, "close up that ugly gan o' yourn. Oliver's awake----"

"Oliver? Aye, so 'tis with a curse on't! The moon's no friend o'

mine. Gimme a black night, darkmans wi' a popper i' my famble and t'other in my cly and I'm your cull, ecod!" Here the door of the cottage swung open and two men entered, the one a tall, wild, gipsy-looking fellow, the other a shortish man in spurred boots and long riding-coat from the side-pockets of which protruded the bra.s.s-heeled b.u.t.ts of a pair of pistols.

"What, Benno, my lad--what Benno," he cried, scowling round the dismal room beneath the c.o.c.k of his weatherbeaten hat, "blind me, but here's a plaguy dog-hole for a genty-cove o' the high-toby!"

"O, the high pad is a delicate trade And a delicate trade o' fame We bite the cully of his cole And carry away his game Oho, and carry away----"

"Quit, Jerry, quit!" growled the man Benno. "Hold that dasher o' yourn won't 'ee----"

"No, Benno my cove, if I do ha' a mind for t' sing, I'll sing and burn all, says I!"

"I keep my prancer and two pepps A tattle in my cly.

When bowsing----"

"Keep your chaffer still, won't 'ee!" snarled the other. "'Swounds, a pal can't hear hisself! Ha, Bet!" he roared, "old Bet--what grannam, oho--lights, more lights here!"

"Lights--aye," nodded Jerry, "lights inside's well enough but lights outside's the devil! Look at Oliver, look at th' moon, well--curse th'

moon says I and--O ecod! What's yon i' the corner? A ladder as I'm a roaring boy--a ladder! Well, here's to see what's above. A doxy, aha, a dimber-dell, oho--"

"When my dimber-dell I courted She had youth and beauty too----"

As he sang he whipped a pistol from his pocket and lurched towards the ladder; and Sergeant Zebedee, watching through one of the many crevices, smiled happily and drew his bayonet. Jerry had one foot on the ladder when his companion caught his shoulder and swung him roughly away.

"How now?" he demanded. "What's your ploy?"

"Look'ee Benno, if you're a-hiding of some dimber mort aloft there I'm the cove to----"

"Ah, you're lushed, Jerry, foxed t' your peepers, sit down--sit down and put away your popp--afore I crack your mazzard!"

Sulkily enough Jerry obeyed and seating himself at the table turned, ever and anon, to view the ladder with a drunken stare.

"Lushed am I?" he repeated. "Drunk hey? Well, so I am and when lushed 'tis at my best I am, my lad. And look'ee a ladder's meant for to climb ain't it? Very well then--I'm the cove to climb it! And look'ee, what's more 'tis a curst dog-hole this for a genty-cove o' the high pad and----" But here his companion roared again for "Old Bet"

and "Lights" until the old woman hobbled in.

"Eh, eh?" she whimpered, blinking from one to the other. "Did ye call, dearie?"

"Aye--bring more glims, d'ye hear----"

"Candles, dearie, eh--eh?"

"Aye, candles! And I'm expecting company, so bring candles and get ye to bed, d'ye hear?"

"Aye, aye, I hear, dearie, I hear--candles, candles," and muttering the word she hobbled away and presently was back again and stood, mowing and mumbling, to watch the candles lighted.

"Now get ye to bed," cried Benno, "to bed, d'ye hear?"

"Dead, dearie?" she croaked. "Who's dead now? Not me, no, no, nor you--yet. No no, but 'tis coming, aha--'tis coming--dead oho!"

The man Benno fell back a step, eyes wide and mouth agape, then very suddenly made a cross in the air before him, while Jerry, getting on his feet, did the same with unsteady finger on the table.

"The evil eye! 'Tis the evil eye!" he muttered, while old Betty nodded and chuckled as her quick, bright eyes flashed from one to the other.

"I said 'bed'!" roared the gipsy-looking fellow clenching his fists fiercely but falling back another step from old Betty's vicinity, "bed was the word----"

"Aye, aye, dearie!" she nodded, "some in bed an' some out--dead, aye, aye, some by day and some by night--all go dead soon or late, you an'

me and all on us--one way or t'other--dead, dearie, dead!"

So saying old Betty hobbled out of the room closing the door behind her.

"A curst old beldam, a hag, a d.a.m.ned witch as I'm a roarer!" exclaimed Jerry shaking his head, while his companion wiped sweat from his brow.

"O rot me, a nice dog-hole this and wi' a ladder look'ee, leading devil knoweth where, but I'm the cove to see----"

"Sit still--sit still and take a sup o' this, Jerry!" And crossing to a corner Benno brought thence a stone jar and a couple of mugs and br.i.m.m.i.n.g one unsteadily he tossed it off; then sitting down at the rickety table they alternately drank and cursed old Betty.

"Come now, Benno my dimber cove," cried Jerry at last, "what's the game? What ha' ye brought me here for? Tip us the office!"

"Why then we're on the spiriting lay--a flash blowen--a genty mort, Jerry."

"Aha, that should mean shiners, plenty o' lour, Benno?"

"Fifty apiece near as nothing."

"Here's game as I'm a flash padder. What more, cove, what more? Let's hear."

"Not me, Jerry--there's one a-coming as will tip you the lay--an old pal, Jerry, a flaming buck o' the high pad, a reg'lar dimber-damber, a--hist! 'Tis him at last, I think, but ha' your popps ready in case, Jerry."

Here Benno arose and crossing a little unsteadily to the door stood there listening: after a while came a knock, a m.u.f.fled voice, and, opening the door, he admitted three men. The first a great, rough fellow who bore one arm in a sling, the second a little man, _point-de-vice_ from silvered spurs to laced hat, yet whose elegant appearance was somewhat marred by a black patch that obscured one eye; the third was the obsequious Joseph, but now, as he stood blinking in the candle-light, there was in his whole sleek person an air of authority and command, and a grimness in the set of smooth-shaven jaw that transfigured him quite.