Where the fellow was who had been at the front door I could not determine. He had disappeared somehow, and I slipped along the wall for the necessary ten feet like a shadow, and crept in beneath the shelter of the staircase. From here I could look into the room opposite, although only a portion of the space was revealed. There was no cloth on the table, and but a few dishes, but I counted a half-dozen bottles, mostly empty, and numerous glasses. Grant was at one end, his uniform dusty and stained, but his eyes alone betraying intoxication. Beside him was a tall, stoop-shouldered man, with matted beard, wearing the coat of a British Grenadier, but with all insignia of rank ripped from it. He had a mean mouth, and yellow, fang-like teeth were displayed whenever he spoke. Beyond this fellow, and only half seen from where I crouched, was a heavy-set individual, his face almost purple, with a thatch of uncombed red hair. He wore the cocked hat of a Dragoon, pushed to the back of his head, his feet were encased in long cavalry boots, crossed on the table, and he was pulling furiously at a pipe, the stem gripped firmly between his teeth. Who the bearded man might be I had no means of knowing, but this beauty was without doubt Fagin. I stared at him, fascinated, recalling the stories of his fiendish cruelty, my heart thumping violently, while my fingers gripped the butt of my pistol. Then, without warning, a man stepped out of the darkened parlor, passed within three feet of my hiding place, and stood within the dining-room door. The three within looked at him, and Fagin roared out:
"What is it now? Heard from Culver?"
CHAPTER XXXIII
THEY SEND FOR CLAIRE
I could only see the fellow's back, with hair hanging low over the collar, but his voice was clear.
"Got here five minutes ago. The preacher is locked in the parlor."
"By God! Good! Now we can play out the game, eh, Captain? Or," turning about suspiciously, and staring at the other, who sat with eyes shaded by one hand, "are you weakening as the time draws near?"
"Hell's fire! No! We gave her a choice, and she only laughed at it. I'll go on now to spite the wench; only I think we should bring in the boy first, and prove to her that we've actually got him."