The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood Part 45

"A regular old brick, and no mistake! We'll drink his health."

It was drunk with full honours, after which Hyde, finding the party inclined to be rather too noisy, got up to go.

"Here!" he cried out, "some of you. What have I got to pay? Hurry up, my dusky d.u.c.h.ess; I want to be off. Come, don't keep me waiting all day," and he struck the table impatiently with his riding-whip.

Mother Charcoal's a.s.sistant, "the imp," ran up.

"How much?"

"One dollar: four shilling," said the lad, in broken English.

"There's your money!" cried Hyde, throwing it down, "and a 'bob' for yourself. Stop!" he added. "Who and what are you? I have seen you before."

The lad, a mere boy, frail-looking and slightly built, but with a handsome, rather effeminate-looking face, tried to slink away.

"What's your name?" went on Hyde.

"Pongo," replied the boy.

"That's no real name. Smacks of the West Coast of Africa. Who gave it you?"

"Mother Charcoal."

"What's your country? What language do you talk?"

"English."

"Monstrous little of that, my boy. What's your native lingo, I mean?

Greek, Turkish, Italian, Coptic--what?"

"Spanish," the boy confessed, in a low voice.

Hyde looked at him very intently for a few seconds; then, without further remark, walked out with his French friend.

But he did not do more than say good-bye outside the shanty; and, leaving his horse still hitched up near the door, he presently re-entered the canteen.

The place had emptied considerably, and he was able to take his seat again in a corner without attracting much attention. For half-an-half or more he watched this boy, who seemed to interest him so much.

"There's not a doubt of it. I must know what it means," and he beckoned the "imp" towards him.

"How did you get to the Crimea?" he asked, abruptly, speaking in excellent Spanish, when the lad, shyly and most reluctantly, came up to him. "What brings you here? I must and will know. It is very wrong.

This is no place for you."

"I came to save him; he is in pressing danger," said the boy, whose large eyes were now filled with tears.

"Does he know you are in the Crimea?"

"I have been unable to find him. I lost all my money; it was stolen from me directly I landed, and, if I had not found this place with the black woman, I should have starved."

"Poor child! Alone and unprotected in this terrible place. It was sheer madness your coming."

"But I could tell him in no other way."

"Tell him what?"

"He has two bitter and implacable enemies, who are sworn to take his life."

Hyde shook his head gravely.

"It is true, as Heaven is my witness--perfectly true. But read this if you doubt me," and the boy, who was no other than Mariquita in disguise, produced the sc.r.a.p of paper she had picked up in the shop in Bombardier Lane.

"I did not doubt your words. I was thinking of those enemies--one of them, at least--and wondering why she is permitted to live."

He took the letter, and read it slowly.

"Her handwriting! I was sure of it. To whom was this addressed?"

"Benito Villegas. Perhaps you know him--he is a native of the Rock."

"I remember him years ago. And has he carried out these instructions?

Is he here?"

"I cannot make out. I have looked for him, but have been unable to find him."

"Not at the address stated here? You have been to it?"

"Several times, but have never seen him."

"He is probably in some disguise; that would suit his purpose best. We will hunt him up, never fear. But Stanislas must first be warned."

"You will go to him--at once?"

"This very day. And you--won't you come too?"

"No, no! I cannot." Mariquita blushed crimson. "He would chide me. It is wrong, I know; I have no right to be here, but he was in such danger. I risked everything: his displeasure, my life, my good name."

"Yes," said Hyde, thoughtfully; "this is no place for you; it is a pity you came to it. Still, we should not have known but for you; as it is, you had better stay here."

"With Mother Charcoal?"

"Just so. She is a worthy old soul, and can be trusted. It will be best, I think, to tell her the exact state of the case. Leave that to me."

"You will not delay in warning Stanislas?" said Mariquita, placing her hand on his arm.

"No; I will go directly after I have spoken to our black friend. Be easy in your mind, little woman, or Senor Pongo, or whatever you like to be called, and expect to see me again, and perhaps some one else you know, within a day or two from now."

Fate, however, decreed that Hyde should be unavoidably delayed in his errand of warning.