As the man had no whiskers, and his complexion was so dark, it might have been supposed that he had some African blood in his veins. Such was not, however, the case;—he was born in England and of English parents—aye, and had received an English education likewise. But nature had given him a hideous aspect; and circumstances had imbued his soul with the ferocity of a hyena and the subtlety of a serpent.
It is not often that the savage disposition is characterised by a profound and latent cunning—because the violence of furious passions usually absorbs all reflection in its sudden impulses and outbursts. But this man was ferocious by nature, and subtle in consequence of possessing a powerful intellect and having received a good education. Not that intelligence and mental cultivation engender craft and cunning: no—but they teach the necessity of consideration and forethought;—and the result, in respect to the individual whom we are describing, was that he knew the world so well as to be fully aware that intrigue and machination frequently succeeded where brute force could accomplish nothing.
Thus, when there was no need to have recourse to artifice, this man appeared as a very demon let loose upon society: but when cunning could gain an end, he was enabled to control his savage propensities and exercise a complete domination over his ferocious instincts.
Such was the person who burst upon the view of the terrified Mrs. Mortimer in the abrupt manner already described.
She had risen from her seat on the bed, and now stood gazing on him in speechless apprehension and amazement: but he, not heeding the alarm which his presence inspired, closed the door carefully behind him, and then, throwing his greasy cap on a chair, approached the old woman, saying, “So I understand you have been robbed, ma’am? Well—don’t give way to despair: I think I can help you to the recovery of your money.”
“Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Mortimer, considerably relieved by the hope thus abruptly held out, and at the same moment animated by the conviction that the man could not mean her any harm—as she had never seen him before in her life; and, moreover, the house was neither deserted nor lonely, and it was now the broad noon-day,—under which circumstances crimes of violence were seldom perpetrated.
“Yes—I think I can help you,” repeated the man. “But there is plenty of time before us—and we must have a chat over the matter in the first instance.”
Thus speaking, he seated himself in a free and easy fashion; and Mrs. Mortimer likewise took a chair—for she had now become deeply interested in the present visit, despite the revolting ugliness of the visitor.
“Who are you?” she asked: “and in what manner do you think you can aid me?”
“One question at a time, my dear madam,” returned the fellow, with cool familiarity. “First then, as to who I am. My name is Rily—Mr. Rily amongst mere acquaintances—John Rily in a police-sheet—and Jack Rily amongst intimate friends. But those who know me best call me the Doctor, because, you see, I was brought up to the medical profession. That was against my tastes, and only in obedience to the wishes of my parents; and so, as soon as they hopped the twig—which was when I was about two-and-twenty—I gave up mending broken legs, and took to breaking into houses. Instead of feeling pulses, I fingered purses—and found the new profession more profitable. Such a hand as this,” he continued, with a horrible grin, as he extended his broad and horny palm, “was rather intended to wield a crow-bar than a lancet, or grasp a pistol in preference to a scalpel. Now, my dear ma’am, I think you may begin to suspect who and what I am.”