"'Ere you, lemme alone, will yer?" he yelped, still wriggling. "I ain't a-doin' nothin' to yer, blarst yer!"

"Don't you swear at me, boy, or I'll have you locked up. Where do you come from?"

"Where d' yer think I come from--Paris? 'Tain't no bisness of yourn, any'ow."

"What are you doing here?"

"Shan't tell yer; wot's more, lady, I'll knife yer if yer don't lemme go; s'elp me, I will!" and the boy kicked again.

Mrs. Parsley shook him.

"You horrible little creature! how dare you speak like that to me? We want no vagrants here, so if you don't take yourself off out of this village I'll have you put in jail, do you understand?"

"Oh, my eye, 'ere's a bloomin' shaime," wailed the boy. "I ain't a-doin'

no 'arm, mum. Father's 'ere, too, and I'm only a-goin' arter 'im. 'E's got a carawan 'e 'as, an' 'e's perfect rispect'bl'. Le' go o' me, will yer? I don't want t' 'urt yer!"

Mrs. Parsley was about to question him further, when, with a sudden wriggle, he escaped from her clutches, leaving the collar of his coat in her hand. Without even a look behind, he dodged up the lane, emitting sounds which Mrs. Parsley could only take to be derisive, and disappeared in the waning twilight. She would have followed, but as Pegwin demanded her attention, she was reluctantly obliged to forego the chase. In the meantime, like a hound on a scent, the boy had darted off in the direction Miriam had taken, and, having caught up with her, spoke to her.

"'Ere," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "I want to speak to yer!"

"Shorty!" she exclaimed.

She recognised the creature at once. It was Shorty, the pilot-fish of the Jabez shark!

CHAPTER IX.

THE SHADOW.

The sudden apparition of Shorty at once dismayed and disheartened Miriam. It seemed as if she were never to shake off the past--never to be allowed entirely to emerge from out the mire into which she had sunk through no fault of her own. If Mrs. Darrow were to see her in confidential discourse with this Arab of the gutter, Heaven only knew what would be the result. With apprehension she glanced swiftly up and down the road. But no one was in sight. Then quietly she glided to the lee-side of a cottage, where she was sheltered both from sight and from the wind. Shorty followed her with rat-like activity, and snuggled in his rags against her skirts. The night was closing in around them, and she shuddered and shrank back from the contact of this obscene creature who had crawled out of the darkness, as it were, across her path. The urchin gazed at her admiringly.

"My eye, y'are a stunner, y'are," he croaked, hugging himself; "wot 'ud old Mother Mandarin say t' ye now?"

"Hush!" Miriam glanced round again. "Nonsense, Shorty; someone might hear! What do you want--money?"

"I cud do with a bit. Travellin' fust cla.r.s.e fro' London costs a 'eap; an' m' close ain't wot they shuld be fur wisitin'."

With a hasty gesture Miriam drew away her skirts, and producing two half-crowns handed them to the boy.

"This will get you food," she said hurriedly. "I can't give you any more. I am little better off than you are."

Shorty clinked the coins together, and whistled shrilly--much to Miriam's dismay. But the wind was so loud that the sound was drowned in the sweeping of the blast.

"How did you find me out?" she asked.

"Jabez knew. Y' sent him twenty quid fro' Craven Street, didn't y'?"

"Yes, but I didn't tell him where I was going."

Shorty hugged himself again and uttered a dignified screech.

"I foun' yer out, I did. Jabez 'e sent me t' the 'otel as y' guv the name on the letter y' sent the quid with, an' I went there, an' sawr the ole cove as Jabez tried to scrag."

"But how did you find out? Did Mr.--did he tell you?"

"Ho yes! 'e tole me, leastways 'e tole Mother Mandarin, an' she tole me, an' I tole Jabez; an' 'e sez, 'you jes' go down,' 'e sez, 'an' say to Miriam as I wants to 'ave a word with 'er, I does,' an' I sez, 'right y'are,' an' I pa.s.s off down 'ere, I does, and sleep in barns an'

'aystacks, an' dodges the bloomin' peelers. An' I gits 'ere to-day, an'

I sees you a talkin' to that skinny laidy; an' wot does she do but ketches me a clout on the 'ead an' arsks questions; but she didn't fin'

out nothink fro' me, no, blarst 'er!--not a bloomin' word, an' I clears out arter you, an' 'ere I am;" and Shorty, having exhausted his stock of breath for the time being, executed a shuffle by way of keeping himself warm.

The cold would have killed a delicately nurtured child, but Shorty, like the man in the Greek story, was "all face," and the cold affected his hardened carcase but little. He shuffled and slapped his hands, and leered at Miriam until her very soul was sick within her. What had she done to be thus visited by this horrible reminder of the past?

"Did Mr.--did the old gentleman tell Mother Mandarin I was with him?"

"Ho yes, 'e tole 'er. Mother Mandarin's fly, she is, an' there ain't much she wants to know as she don't git t' know."

Miriam started, and, seizing the boy by the arm, looked at him searchingly.

"Does the old gentleman----?" but Shorty interrupted her with a grin.

"Yes, that's it. Ho, 'e's a bad 'un, 'e is. As wicked a ole cuss as ever wos. 'Satan,' Mother Mandarin calls 'im, an' Satan 'e is."

"Does he often go to Mother Mandarin?"

"'E goes there a lot, 'e does. But look 'ere," continued Shorty crossly, "I can't staiy torkin' 'ere all night, I'm orf to git grub. 'Twas Jabez sent me 'ere, it wos."

"What does Jabez want?" Miriam had a premonition of ill.

"T' see y' an' 'ave a jaw, didn't I te' y' so?"

"I can't see him. I daren't leave here, Shorty."

"There ain't no ned. Jabez is a-comin' 'ere."

"Shorty!" Miriam seized hold of the boy again, and looked at him. He glanced at her and wriggled free with a yelp.

"Don't look at me like that; I ain't done nothink."

"He can't come here," said Miriam hurriedly. "Tell him he must not--he dare not. If he leaves London, he is lost!"

"I don't know; I don't know a bloomin' thing about it," said Shorty sullenly. "All I knows is as 'e said 'e wos a-comin' 'ere next week.

Goin' to keep 'is 'oliday in the country. An' I don't want no more lip, Miriam, d' y' 'ear? If you'd let Jabez scrag that ole Satan, 'twould 'ave been best for 'im Jabez sez ye're t' meet 'im outside the church 'ere next Friday."

"What! has he been here before then--that is, since I came here?"