"Blinded," the woman answered weakly. "Blinded. But the pain's eased with the oil."
"What did he say?" interposed Viney, fullest of his own concerns. "Did he say someone did it?"
"He told me about it—whispered. But I shan't say nothing; nor him, not till he comes out."
"I say—he mustn't get talkin' about it," Viney said, anxiously. "It—it'll upset things. Tell him when you see him. Here, listen." He took her aside out of Grimes's hearing. "It wouldn't do," he said, "it wouldn't do to have anybody charged or anything just now. We've got something big to pull off. I say—I ought to see him, you know. Can't I see him? But there—someone might know me. No. But you must tell him. He mustn't go informing, or anything like that, not yet. Tell him, won't you?"
"Chargin'? Infornin'?" Mag answered, with contempt in her shaking voice. "'Course 'e wouldn't go informin', not Dan. Dan ain't that sort—'e looks arter hisself, 'e does; 'e don't go chargin' people. Not if 'e was dyin'."
Indeed Viney did not sufficiently understand the morals of Blue Gate: where to call in the aid of the common enemy, the police, was a foul trick to which none would stoop. In Blue Gate a man inflicted his own punishments, and to ask aid of the police was worse than mean and scandalous: it was weak; and that in a place where the weak "did not last," as the phrase went. It was the one restraint, the sole virtue of the place, enduring to death; and like some other virtues, in some other places, it had its admixture of necessity; for everybody was "wanted" in turn, and to call for the help of a policeman who might, as likely as not, begin by seizing oneself by the collar, would even have been poor policy: bad equally for the individual and for the community. So that to resort to the law's help in any form was classed with "narking" as the unpardonable sin.
"You're sure o' that, are you?" asked Viney, apprehensively.
"Sure? 'Course I'm sure. Dunno what sort o' chap you take 'im for. 'E's no nark. An' besides—'e can't. There's other things, an'——"
She turned away with a sigh that was near a sob, and her momentary indignation lapsed once more into anxious grief.
Viney went off with his head confused and his plans in the melting-pot. Ogle's scheme was gone by the board, and alone he could scarce trust himself in any enterprise so desperate. What should he do now? Make what terms he might with Captain Nat? Need was pressing; but he must think.