"Nothing unreasonable, mister," answered Melky. "You'll easily satisfy me. Game? Come, now, mister—I know your game! Bank first—to get some ready—then somewhere to pick up a bit of luggage—then, a railway station. That's it, ain't it, now? No blooming good, mister—they're ready for you the minute you walk into that bank! If they don't take you then, they'll only wait to follow you to the station. Mister!—you ain't a cat's chance!—you're done—if you don't make it worth my while to help you! See?"
Yada looked round, doubtfully. They had turned two or three corners by that time, and were in a main street, which lay at the back of Praed Street. He glanced at Melky's face—which suggested just then nothing but cunning and stratagem.
"What can you do for me?" he asked. "How much do you want? You want money, eh?"
"Make it a hundred quid, mister," said Melky. "Just a hundred of the best, and I'll put you where all the police in London won't find you for the rest of today, and get you out of it at night in such a fashion that you'll be as safe as if you was at home. You won't never see your home in Japan, again, mister, if you don't depend on yours truly! And a hundred ain't nothing—considering what you've got at stake."
"I haven't a hundred pounds to give you," answered Yada. "I have scarcely any money but this cheque."
"In course you ain't, mister!" agreed Melky. "I twigged your game straight off—you only came there to the police-station to put yourself in funds for your journey! But that's all right!—you come along of me, and let me put you in safety—then you give me that cheque—I'll get it cashed in ten minutes without going to any banks—see? Friend o' mine hereabouts—he'll cash it at his bank close by—anybody'll cash a cheque o' Levendale's. Come on, now, mister. We're close to that little port o' refuge I'm telling you about."
The bluff was going down—Melky felt, as much as saw, that Yada was swallowing it in buckets. And he slipped his hand within his companion's arm, piloted him along the street, across Praed Street, round the back of the houses into the narrow passage which communicated with the rear of the late Daniel Multenius's premises, and in at the little door which opened on the parlour wherein so many events had recently taken place.
"Where are you taking me?" asked Yada, suspiciously, as they crossed the threshold.
"All serene, mister!" answered Melky, reassuringly. "Friend o' mine here—my cousin. All right—and all secure. You're as safe here as you will be in your grave, mister—s'elp me, you are! Zillah!"
Zillah walked into the parlour and justified Melky's supreme confidence in her by showing no surprise or embarrassment. She gave Yada the merest glance, and turned to Melky.