“Mr. Hattwater,” said he, “I don’t know if ever you ’ad a mother....”
“I can set your mind at rest: I had,” returned Attwater; “and henceforth, if I may venture to suggest it, her name need not recur in our communications. I should perhaps tell you that I am not amenable to the pathetic.”
“I am sorry, sir, if I ’ave seemed to tresparse on your private feelin’s,” said the clerk, cringing and stealing a step. “At least, sir, you will never pe’suade me that you are not a perfec’ gentleman; I know a gentleman when I see him; and as such, I ’ave no ’esitation in throwin’ myself on your merciful consideration. It is ’ard lines, no doubt; it’s ’ard lines to have to hown yourself beat; it’s ’ard lines to ’ave to come and beg to you for charity.”
“When, if things had only gone right, the whole place was as good as your own?” suggested Attwater. “I can understand the feeling.”
“You are judging me, Mr. Attwater,” said the clerk, “and God knows how unjustly! Thou Gawd seest me, was the tex’ I ’ad in my Bible, w’ich my father wrote it in with ’is own ’and upon the fly-leaft.”
“I am sorry I have to beg your pardon once more,” said Attwater; “but, do you know, you seem to me to be a trifle nearer, which is entirely outside of our bargain. And I would venture to suggest that you take one—two—three—steps back; and stay there.”
The devil, at this staggering disappointment, looked out of Huish’s face, and Attwater was swift to suspect. He frowned, he stared on the little man, and considered. Why should he be creeping nearer? The next moment his gun was at his shoulder.
“Kindly oblige me by opening your hands. Open your hands wide—let me see the fingers spread, you dog—throw down that thing you’re holding!” he roared, his rage and certitude increasing together.
And then, at almost the same moment, the indomitable Huish decided to throw, and Attwater pulled a trigger. There was scarce the difference of a second between the two resolves, but it was in favour of the man with the rifle; and the jar had not yet left the clerk’s hand, before the ball shattered both. For the twinkling of an eye the wretch was in hell’s agonies, bathed in liquid flames, a screaming bedlamite; and then a second and more merciful bullet stretched him dead.
The whole thing was come and gone in a breath. Before Herrick could turn about, before Davis could complete his cry of horror, the clerk lay in the sand, sprawling and convulsed.