CHAPTER XXI.
RICHARD MANX MAKES LOVE TO "SWEET BECKY."
On the morning following the publication of the Supplement to the_Evening Moon_, Becky had occasion to observe that her mistress, Mrs.Preedy, was earnestly engaged in the perusal of a newspaper. A greatdeal of house-work had to be done on this morning; there was a general"cleaning-up;" floors and stairs to be scrubbed, chairs and tables tobe polished, and looking-glasses and windows to be cleaned; and as thegreater portion of this work fell to Becky's share, she was kept busilyemployed until the afternoon. She was, therefore, in ignorance of thepublication of the statement in the _Evening Moon_, and her curiositywas but languidly aroused by Mrs. Preedy's pre-occupation, until, bymere chance, she caught sight of the heading, "The Murder in GreatPorter Square." She turned hot and cold, and her pulses quickened.
"Is that something fresh about the murder next door?" she ventured toask.
"Yes, Becky," replied Mrs. Preedy, but did not offer any explanation ofthe contents.
It was not Becky's cue to exhibit more than ordinary interest in thematter, and she merely remarked,
"I thought it might be something about the houses being haunted."
She noted that the paper was the _Evening Moon_, and she determined topurchase a copy before she went to bed. She did not until the afternoonget an opportunity to leave the house, and even then, there was somuch to do, she had to leave it secretly, and without Mrs. Preedy'sknowledge. There was another reason for her desire to go out. Sheexpected a letter at the Charing Cross Post Office, and it was necessaryshe should be there before five o'clock to receive it. Mrs. Preedygenerally took a half-hour's nap in the afternoon, and Becky's plan wasto slip out the moment her mistress fell asleep, and leave the house totake care of itself. She felt the want of an ally at this juncture; theimpression that she was fated to unravel the mystery of the murder, andthus clear the man she loved from suspicion, was becoming stronger; andto accomplish this it was necessary that she should keep her presentsituation. She needed help, and she could not take any person into herconfidence.
During the day Becky noticed that a great many persons passed throughthe Square, and stopped before the house. "Now that the houses arehaunted," she thought, "we shall be regularly besieged. But if they lookfor a year they'll not see a ghost."
At four o'clock in the afternoon Mrs. Preedy arranged herselfcomfortably in an arm chair in her kitchen, and in a few moments wasasleep. Now was Becky's opportunity. She quietly slipped out of thehouse by way of the basement, tying her hat strings as she mounted thesteps, and walked quickly in the direction of Charing Cross. She was sointent upon her mission that she scarcely noticed the unusual number ofpersons in the Square. At Charing Cross Post Office she received theletter she expected. She did not stop to read it; she simply opened itas she retraced her steps, and, glancing hurriedly through it, put itinto her pocket. She heard the boys calling out "_Hevenin' Moon_! Moreabout the murder in Great Porter Square! Wonderful discovery! Romance inreal life! A 'Underd Thousand Pounds!" and she stopped and purchased twocopies. Although she was animated by the liveliest curiosity, she didnot pause even to open the paper, she was so anxious to get back to thehouse before Mrs. Preedy awoke. Shortly before turning into the Square,she was overtaken, fast as she herself was walking, by their young manlodger, Richard Manx. He touched her arm, and smiling pleasantly at her,walked by her side.
"My pretty one," he said, "your little feet walk fast."
"I am in a hurry," she replied, her nostrils dilating at his touch;but instantly remembering the part she was playing, she returned hispleasant smile.
"You have been--a--out while the amiable Mrs. Preedy sleeps."
This observation warned her that Richard Manx knew more about thehousehold movements than she expected. "I have no fool to deal with,"she thought. "He shall have as much of my confidence as I choose to givehim; he will find me his match."
"Yes," she said aloud, with a bright look; "but don't tell Mrs. Preedy;she might be angry with me."
"You speak," he said in a tone of lofty satisfaction, "to a gentleman."
"I wanted to buy a ribbon," said Becky, artlessly, "and it isn't easy tochoose the exact colour one would like at night, so I thought I wouldsteal out, just as I am, while Mrs. Preedy took her nap."
"Steal out--ah, yes, I understand--just as you are, charming!"
"And now, although I couldn't match my ribbon--it was a very light pinkI wanted--I must get back quickly."
All the while they were talking he was sucking and chewing a sweetmeat;having disposed of it, he popped another into his mouth.
"Quickly," he repeated, bending down, so that his face was on a levelwith hers. "That is--a--soon. Will you?"
This question was accompanied by the offer of a little packet of aciddrops, half of which he had already devoured. She took a couple with theremark that she liked chocolate creams best.
"You shall have some," he said, "to-morrow. I shall walk with you; Imyself am on my way to my small apartment. It is the--a--fashion for agentleman to offer a lady one of his arms. Honour me."
He held out his arm, which she declined.
"I am not a lady," she said demurely; "I am only a poor servant girl."
"And I," he responded insinuatingly, "am a poor gentleman. Ah! IfI were--a--rich, I should say to you, accept this ring." He made amotion as if offering her a ring. "Accept this--a--bracelet," withcorresponding action. "Or this dress. But I have not--a--money." He tookanother acid drop. "It is a misfortune. But what can a poor devil do?You do not--a--despise me because I am thus?"
"Oh, no. I hope you will be rich one day."
"It will happen," he said, in a quick, eager tone. "From my country"--hewaved his hands vaguely--"shall come what I wait for here. Then shall Isay to you, 'Becky'--pardon; I have heard the amiable Mrs. Preedy thuscall you--'Becky,' shall I say, 'be no longer a servant. Be a lady.' Howthen, will you speak?"
"I must not listen to you," replied Becky, coquettishly; "you foreigngentlemen have such smooth tongues that they are enough to turn a poorgirl's head." They were now in Great Porter Square. "What a number ofpeople there are in the square," she said.
"It is--a--remarkable, this murder. The man is--a--found."
"What man?" cried Becky, excitedly. "The murderer!"
"Ah, no. That is not yet. It is the dead man who is--what do you callit?--discovered. That is it. He _was_ not known--he _is_ known. His namehas come to the light. Yesterday he was a beggar--to-day he is rich.What, then? He is dead. His millions--in my country's money, sweetBecky, veritably millions--shall not bring life into his bones. Hismoney is--a--here. _He_ is"--Richard Manx looked up at the sky--"Ah, heis there! or"--he cast his eyes to the pavement--"there! We shall notknow till there comes a time. It is sad."
"He was a rich gentleman, you say. What could have induced a rich manto live in such a neighbourhood?"
"In such a neighbourhood!" Richard Manx smiled, and shrugged hisshoulders. "Ah! he came here not to die, surely--no, to live. It wouldhave been well--for him--that he came not; but so it was. What shouldinduce him here? you ask of me. Becky, I shall ask of the air." He puthimself into the attitude of listening. "Ha! ha! I hear perhaps thereason. There was a lady. Enough. We shall not betray more. I propose toyou a thought. I live in the amiable house of Mrs. Preedy. It is high,my apartment. Wherefore? I am a poor gentleman--as yet. I am one morningdiscovered--dead. Startle not yourself. It will not be--no, it will notbe; but I propose to you my thought. You would not be glad--you wouldnot laugh, if so it should be?"
"It would be a shocking thing," said Becky, gravely.
"It is well. I thank you--your face is sad, your eyes are not so bright.Then when I am thus, as I have said--dead!--from my country comes whatI wait for here--money, also in millions. 'Ah,' says the amiable Mrs.Preedy, 'what could induce'--your word is good--'what could induce onewho was rich to live in such a neighbourhood?' Observe me, Becky. Iplace my hand, on my heart and say, 'There is a lady.' A
h, yes, thoughyou call yourself not so, I say, 'There is a lady.' I say no more. Weare at home. You are beautiful, and I--till for ever--am your devoted.If it were not for so many people--I am discreet, Becky--I should kissyour hand."
And, indeed, the remark that he was discreet was proved by the change inhis manner, now that he and Becky were in closer contact with strangers;the tenderness left his face, and observers at a distance would neverhave guessed that he was making something very much like a declarationof love to the girl. He opened the street door with his latch-key, andwent up to his garret, sucking his acid drops. Becky opened the littlegate and went down to her kitchen, where her mind was set at ease byseeing Mrs. Preedy still asleep in her arm chair.
Becky looked at her hand. It was a pretty hand and small, but the workshe had done lately rather detracted from its prettiness. There wasdirt on it, too, from the scrubbing and cleaning of the day. "He wouldkiss my hand," she murmured. "I am afraid our innocent young man lodgeris a bit of a flirt. Be careful, young man. You are not in this housewithout a motive; you are in danger if that motive touches the welfareof the man I love!"
This soliloquy, in which she indulged in the kitchen, might have beenof greater length had not Mrs. Preedy stirred in her sleep. The slightmovement was sufficient to wake her.
"I do believe, Becky," she said, opening her eyes, "that I haveoverslept myself."
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