"That there man, sir—you know," said the waiter. "Here again, sir—stable-yard, sir."
Gilling jumped up and gave Copplestone a look.
"That's Spurge!" he muttered. "He said he'd be back at day-break. Wait here—I'll fetch him."
CHAPTER XXVI
THE REAVER'S GLEN
Zachary Spurge, presently ushered in by Gilling, who carefully closed the door behind himself and his companion, looked as if his recent lodging had been of an even rougher nature than that in which Copplestone had found him at their first meeting. The rough horseman's cloak in which he was buttoned to the edge of a red neckerchief and a stubbly chin was liberally ornamented with bits of straw, scraps of furze and other odds and ends picked up in woods and hedge-rows. Spurge, indeed, bore unmistakable evidence of having slept out in wild places for some nights and his general atmosphere was little more respectable than that of a scarecrow. But he grinned cheerfully at Copplestone—and then frowned at Vickers.
"I didn't count for to meet no lawyers, gentlemen," he said, pausing on the outer boundaries of the parlour, "I ain't a-goin' to talk before 'em, neither!"
"He's a grudge against me—I've had to appear against him once or twice," whispered Vickers to Copplestone. "You'd better soothe him down—I want to know what he's got to tell."
"It's all right, Spurge," said Copplestone. "Come—Mr. Vickers is on our side this time; he's one of us. You can say anything you like before him—or Mr. Gilling either. We're all in it. Pull your chair up—here, alongside of me, and tell us what you've been doing."
"Well, of course, if you puts it that way, Mr. Copplestone," replied Spurge, coming to the table a little doubtfully. "Though I hadn't meant to tell nobody but you what I've got to tell. However, I can see that things is in such a pretty pass that this here ain't no one-man job—it's a job as'll want a lot o' men! And I daresay lawyers and such-like is as useful men in that way as you can lay hands on—no offence to you, Mr. Vickers, only you see I've had experience o' your sort before. But if you are taking a hand in this here—well, all right. But now, gentlemen," he continued dropping into a chair at the table and laying his fur cap on its polished surface, "afore ever I says a word, d'ye think that I could be provided with a cup o' hot coffee, or tea, with a stiff dose o' rum in it? I'm that cold and starved—ah, if you'd been where I been this last twelve hours or so, you'd be perished."