XXXVI
It so chanced that Tom Horn did not appear at Christopher Dent's for some nights; and so Mademoiselle Lafargue, with brisk little shoes clicking upon the floor, and silken gloves upon her hands, and a lace shawl about her head, came into the apothecary's shop in the twilight before he had kindled his lamps. She forthwith demanded that he keep his promise and go with her to Tom Horn's lodgings, that she might speak with the odd clerk in the matter he had dwelt so earnestly upon some nights before.
Christopher eagerly put on his hat and tailed coat, and wrote a legend announcing that because of unavoidable matters his shop would be closed for a few hours, which he stuck upon the door; then he turned the key in the lock with care and, with mademoiselle at his side, proceeded in the direction of Pump Court. This was a wide court, of no great depth, with three broad-fronted houses on each side of it, and a cool flagged space between; and in the center stood the pump, with a tub under its spout, from which the court took its name. There was a little fringe of grass about the edge of each of the houses, and vines climbed the walls; the shutters were green and stood wide; the door- and window-frames were white. Christopher pointed to the sloping roof of one of the houses, where a dormer-window leaned outward.
"That," said the little apothecary, "is Tom Horn's lodgings."
They climbed the wide, solid steps, and at the top of the house knocked upon a door. Tom Horn opened it; he did not seem at all surprised, but only opened it a great deal wider when he saw who it was.
"Come in," he said. "I am glad to see you."
The room was a very large one and sparely furnished; on a broad table, with lighted candles set about it, was a great clutter of papers.
"Figures," said Christopher, as he looked down at the papers. "All figures." He looked at Tom Horn and rubbed his own shining crown. "They must be like a spoken language to you."
"Figures are truer and more dependable than a language made of words," said Tom Horn. "The circles come at through them are perfect ones. There is no bending them to other shapes. Words, now, can be wrought to fit both prejudice and unreason."