“Lindsay got into a scrape?” repeated I incredulously. “I cannot believe it! What has he been doing?”
“Dat I cannot say, sar,” answered the black; “I only know dat a perliceman come out ob de door ob de lock-up as I was passin’ by, and asked me if I wanted to earn fibe shillin’; and when I say ‘yes,’ he take me into de lock-up and interdooce me to young bucra, who say him name am Lindsay, and dat if I will take a message to you he will gib me fibe shillin’ when I come back wid you.”
“It is very extraordinary,” I muttered; “I cannot understand it! But I will go with you, of course. Wait a moment until I fetch my cap.”
So saying, I left the fellow and hastened to my room, where, closing the door, I opened my chest and furnished myself with a supply of money, and then, closing and locking the chest, I hastened away to where the negro was waiting for me. As I passed through the hall several men of my acquaintance were lounging there, smoking, and one of them hailed me with—
“Hillo, Courtenay! whither away so fast, my lad?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to explain to them my errand, but I bethought me just in time that if Lindsay had been doing anything foolish he might not care to have the fact blazoned abroad; so I kept my own counsel, merely replying that I was called out upon a small matter of business, and so effected my escape from them into the dark street.
“Oh, here you are!” exclaimed I, as the negro emerged, at my appearance, from the deep shadow of the hotel portico. “Now, then, which way? Is Mr Lindsay in the town jail?”
“No, sar, no; he am in de harbour lock-up,” answered my guide. “Dis way, sar; it am not so bery far.”
“The harbour lock-up?” queried I. “Where is that? I didn’t know that there was such a place.”
“Oh yes, sar, dar am. You follow me, sar; I show you de way, sar,” answered the negro.