Beggar’s Choice

“Yes,” said A

“I’m clearing out. I’ve told him so-I’ve told him I won’t go on-and he said”-his voice dropped-“he’s getting out of it himself. And a good job too-that’s what I say. It’s dangerous-it’s a lot too dangerous. He said so-he said the police were sitting up and taking notice-he said they were out for blood, and he’d be hanged if he was going to let ’em have his.” The sound of Mr. Markham’s own voice had heartened him a good deal. He smiled a wide smile which showed a golden tooth upon either side, and concluded, “And little Bobby’s just as keen on their not getting him.”

“You’re afraid,” said A

Mr. Markham acknowledged the compliment.

“Any one who wasn’t a fool would be afraid. It’d mean a dashed long sentence. It’s me for the shore before the ship goes down. And you take my advice-”

“I haven’t asked for your advice-I’ve asked for your help. And if you won’t give it-” She paused for a second-“then-then I’ll go to some one who will.”

She pushed back her chair and rose. The shawl fell back and showed her in diaphanous black, neck, shoulders and back all gleaming bare and white.

Mr. Markham leaned across the table.

“What a dashed hurry you’re in! Look here, A

“He’s not to know. If I wanted him to know, I could ask him for it myself. You’ve got to get it for me without his knowing.”

“Why do you want it? I can’t get it like that. But if I could, I wouldn’t-not without knowing what you want it for. It’s too infernally dangerous.”

She was gathering her shawl up slowly with one hand. The little bright flowers seemed to bloom as she moved them.

“It won’t be dangerous at all. It-” She hesitated. “It-might be the very opposite.”

“How do you mean-the very opposite?”

“I mean-you said they’re out for some one’s blood. Well, if they caught some one with the stuff on them-”

She stopped, biting her lip, a dark colour in her cheek, her eyes brilliant and watchful.

Bobby Markham stared at her. He was wishing that he had never come.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

Fear spurred Mr. Markham.

“I won’t do a dashed thing unless you tell me what you mean-I’m hanged if I will!”

A

“Would it break your heart if Car Fairfax came to grief?”

Mr. Markham became incapable of words for a moment. Then he repeated those which he had just used:

“What do you mean?”

A

“I want the stuff for Car.”

“Why?”

“Will you get it for me if I tell you?”

“I don’t know,” said Mr. Markham. “I can’t get it-I told you I can’t-and if I could-”

“You can get it if you like. Will you get it?”

“Tell me why you want it.”

“I want it for Car Fairfax,” said A

“But he’s not in the show at all.”

“No,” said A

Mr. Bobby Markham swore aloud and ran his hands through what remained of his hair.

“A

“Oh, no,” said A

“Then what are you driving at? He’d give you away.”

“Oh no,” said A

“You’re not going to give it to him?”

“No.”

“Then who is?”

“Isobel,” said A

A silence came down between them. Bobby Markham went on looking at her. At last he said,

“Isobel?”

“I think perhaps he might go to prison for Isobel. It would be interesting to see if he would.”

Bobby Markham leaned back. For the moment he wanted to get farther away from A

“Why have you got your knife into him like this? What’s he done? Why can’t you leave him alone? He hasn’t done you any harm.”

The words were hardly out before he regretted them. He had seen A

“Do you want me to answer that?”

He didn’t-not now-not when she looked like that. He wanted to get back to the George and have a whisky and soda. But A

“I’ll tell you what he’s done if you like. He has insulted me in the worst way that a man can insult a woman. He wanted to marry me once, and when I wouldn’t have him-” She choked and threw up a hand before her eyes.

“Oh!” she said in a deep, gasping note. “Men can be brutes-brutes-brutes!”

The startled Mr. Markham turned plum-colored with embarrassment.

“A

The hand that had covered her eyes was thrown out towards him in a really fine dramatic gesture.

“Don’t ask me-you’re my friend-don’t ask me any more.” She turned away a little and stood drooping, with the shawl falling in a long straight line from her shoulder. “That is why my uncle quarreled with him. I didn’t tell him everything. But I couldn’t-couldn’t go on seeing Car as if nothing had happened. Now Uncle John is begi

Mr. Markham felt himself a good deal carried away.

“Look here, A

“You will? Oh, Bobby!”

“I didn’t say I would-I said if-” He paused and imprinted a fervent kiss upon the hand which lay uppermost in his. It was cold and smooth-it was very cold. He let go of it almost involuntarily. As she drew back, he said, “What do you want to bring the girl into it for? You’ve not got your knife into her, have you?”

“Isobel?” said A

“Yes.”

There was a little pause. A

“Oh, no,” she said.

“Then why bring her into it?”

“It won’t hurt her. You’ve very chivalrous, Bobby. You needn’t be afraid-Isobel won’t come to any harm, because Car-Car will be chivalrous too. He won’t give her away.”

Mr. Markham salved his conscience with this. He had a conscience, but he had trained it to a certain degree of docility. It would demand satisfaction, to be sure, but it had learned to be very easily satisfied. He told himself that it was satisfied now. A

“A

Instantly the statue came to life; the color rushed into the pale cheeks. She glowed and put her hands in his.

“You will!”

“If I do, will you-will you-let me take you out of it all?”

“Do you want to?” said A

“You know I do. I’ve made my pile. I got a lucky tip the other day and made enough to clear right out of all this other business. I’ll buy a place and settle down. You can have everything you want. I’m easy to live with-ask Cis. You wouldn’t mind Cis living with us, would you-A