"Since then," added the Buffer, "I have not been doing much, and was deuced glad when Greenwood's valet came to me last evening and made an appointment with me for to-night to talk upon some business of importance. You know what that business is; and I hope it will turn up a trump—that's all."
"Then the whole affair of the Blossom was a damnation plant?" cried the Resurrection Man, gnashing his teeth with rage. "And that hated Markham was at the bottom of it all? By the thunders of heaven, I'll have the most deadly vengeance! But how came you to learn that Morcar was one of the three?"
"Because I heard Markham call him by that name when they all boarded the Fairy; and I instantly remembered the gipsy that you had often spoken about. But what do you think? He was the Black—the counterfeit Brummagem scoundrel that could neither speak nor hear. The captain was the blue-bottle; and Markham, I s'pose, had kept down below during the time the Blossom was at Mossop's. It was a deuced good scheme of theirs; and if you hadn't been left in the plague-ship, it might have gone precious hard with you."
"Well said, Jack," observed the Resurrection Man. "Out of evil sometimes comes good, as the parsons say. But that shan't prevent me from doing Master Richard Markham a turn yet."
"You must go to Italy, then," said the Buffer laconically.
"What gammon's that?" demanded Tidkins.
"Why, I happened yesterday morning to look at a newspaper in the parlour down stairs, and there I read of a battle which took place in some country with a cursed hard name in Italy, about three weeks ago; and what should I see but a long rigmarole about the bravery of 'our gallant fellow-countryman, Mr. Richard Markham,' and 'the great delight it would be to all the true friends of freedom to learn that he was not retained amongst the prisoners'."
"But perhaps he was killed in the battle, the scoundrel?" said the Resurrection Man.
"No, he wasn't," answered the Buffer; "for the moment I saw that all this nonsense was about him, I read the whole article through; and I found that he had been taken prisoner, but had either been let go or had made his escape. No one, however, seems to know what's become of him;—so p'r'aps he's on his way back to this country."
"I'd much sooner he'd get hanged or shot in Italy," said the Resurrection Man. "But if he ever does come home again, I'll be square with him—and no mistake."