LITMIR.BIZ

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be silly,’ replied the woman. ‘Isn’t a lamp good enough?’

      ‘There ain’t no lamp, miss!’

      ‘No lamp? Here, you do want something to eat. Open the door a bit wider, then you’ll see.’

      ‘I tells yer, there ain’t no light!’ whispered Ben. ‘And I ain’t goin’—’

      He stopped abruptly. The woman stared at him, now frankly uneasy. Her mouth remained half open, while five more inactive seconds went by. Then, suddenly, a violent shiver revivified the statuesque figure of Ben, and he swiftly and silently closed the door.

      ‘Goodness, what’s that?’ asked the woman, with her hand at her heart.

      Ben slithered to a seat, and, sitting down abruptly, blinked at her.

      ‘What is it, what is it?’ repeated the woman, in a low voice.

      ‘I ain’t goin’ in there,’ muttered Ben.

      ‘For goodness’ sake—’

      ‘I’ll tell yer, miss. Jest a minit. Sorter took me in the wind, like … There wasn’t no light, see? Wot I ses. If you’ve give ’im one, ’e’s put it aht. And orl I sees, miss, when I looks in that there room, was nothin’ … nothin’ …’

      ‘All right, I heard you the first time,’ interposed the woman. ‘Don’t give me the creeps! Oh, dear, I wish father was home, that I do. Well—what made you shut the door so quick?’

      Ben looked at her, slightly injured.

      ‘Ain’t I tellin’ yer?’ he demanded. ‘Orl right, then. I sees nothin’, as I ses. But then, sudden like, I sees—somethin’. It’s a figger. Your customer, I reckons, miss. But ’e ain’t sittin’ at the table. ’E ain’t doin’ that.’

      ‘What’s he doing, then?’

      ‘’E seems to be listenin’, miss,’ said Ben sepulchrally. ‘Standin’ by the wall, ’e is, listenin’, miss … listenin’ …’

      ‘Oh, hark to the man!’ gasped the young woman, with her eyes on the door. ‘Now he’s off again!’

      ‘Yus, but that ain’t orl,’ he went on. ‘I sees the winder. Lummy, I sees the winder. And orl of a suddin, another figger outside pops up agin’ it, and shoves ’is fice agin’ the glass.’ The woman stifled a little shriek, while Ben took out a large red handkerchief and mopped his brow. ‘So, arter that,’ he concluded, ‘I closes the door, and comes away. And so’d anyone.’

      There was a short pause. The young woman appeared undecided what to do.

      ‘What did he look like—the man at the window?’ she asked.

      ‘Nothin’. Yer couldn’t see,’ replied Ben. ‘Jest shadders, both on ’em. Wot do they call them black things? Sillyhetts, don’t they? Well, that’s what they was. A couple o’ sillyhetts. But—I dunno,’ he added reflectively. ‘I did seem ter reckernise that chap at the winder—in a kind ’f a way. Seemed like a feller I met up the road. Some’ow. I dunno.’ A practical streak entered into him. ‘Wotcher goin’ ter do, miss? Go in and light ’is lamp for ’im agin?’

      ‘Not me!’ she retorted.

      ‘’Corse not,’ agreed Ben. ‘And no more ain’t I goin’ in there to heat my Carlton lunch!’

      ‘You can eat it in here, if you like.’

      ‘Yus, I do like. Though, mind yer, miss—if it wasn’t fer you, I’d ’ook it.’

      The young woman looked at Ben a little more intently after this frank statement, and a new light came into her eye.

      ‘You haven’t got no call to stay here for me,’ she said, watching him.

      ‘Yus, I ’ave,’ he responded. ‘The call o’ the Merchant Service.’

      ‘Oh! Are you in the Merchant Service, then?’

      ‘Well, speakin’ strict, miss,’ answered Ben carefully, ‘I ’ave bin. And ’opes ter be agin. But, jest nah … get me?’

      ‘I see,’ she nodded. ‘You’re out of a job.’

      ‘That’s right. Man o’ lesher.’

      ‘Well, I’ve got a brother in the Merchant Service, and you can keep your fourpence,’ said the young woman. ‘I ain’t going to charge you for your Carlton lunch, as you call it. You stay here till my father returns, that’s all I ask.’

      ‘And yer doesn’t hask in vain,’ exclaimed Ben roundly. ‘I’ll proteck yer. Oh, my Gawd, wot’s that?’

      The door of the inner room flew open, a figure darted across the floor, and vanished through the porch.

       2

       Enter No. 17

      Ben stared at the street door, now open wide, and then at the young woman, whose hands were clasped in fright. Ben’s own heart was beating somewhat rapidly.

      ‘Was that yer customer, miss?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes,’ she gasped. ‘Oh, dear! What’s it all mean?’

      Ben had a theory, but, before expounding it, he played for security. Both the street door and the door to the inner room were open. They required closing.

      He walked to the street door first. He peered cautiously out into the wall of yellow, coughed, drew his head in again, and closed the door. Then, even more cautiously, he shuffled across to the inner room, a small portion of which was dimly discernible through the aperture.

      ‘Is anybody in there?’ whispered the woman.

      ‘If there is, ’e can blinkin’ well stay!’ Ben whispered back, as he whipped the door to and locked it. ‘The on’y chap it’d be is that chap wot was at the winder, and if ’e come hin at the winder, then ’e can go hout o’ the winder. I reckon that’s fair, ain’t it?’

      ‘Yes,’ murmured the woman. ‘Why do you suppose he ran out like that?’

      ‘’Cos ’e was runnin’ away from somebody,’ answered Ben obviously, ‘and the somebody was the chap at the winder. Pline as a pikestaff, ain’t it? ’Ide and seek in the fog. Yus, and you thort somethin’ was hup afore I come along, didn’t yer?’

      ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘He acted so peculiar.’

      ‘’Ow—peckyewlier?’

      ‘Well, he put his head in first, and had a quick look round. Then he went out again, and then he came in again. “Say, give me something to eat,” he says, “and I’ve no time to waste.” One of those Yanks. I never did like them. And in he goes to that room just as if the whole place belonged to him.’

      ‘That’s a Yank,’ said Ben.

      ‘And once, when my back was turned,’ she went on, ‘he came out of the room quietly, and gave me such a turn. He went to have a look out of the front door, and I said, “Isn’t the fog awful?” just to make conversation, and he grinned and replied, “I like it.” “I like it,” he said, and then went back to the room sudden, as if it was a joke, Of course, I thought I was just silly,’ she concluded, ‘thinking that way about him. But, you see, I wasn’t!’

      ‘No, you wasn’t,’ agreed Ben. ‘’E’s a wrong ’un.’

      He glanced uneasily at the door of the inner room, and the young woman followed his glance.

      ‘I

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