Jack said nothing, and we walked on, very uneasy and depressed.
When we arrived at our lodgings we found Billy, whose recovery was now almost complete, sitting up in the bed with a jubilant face.
“You’re a-done it, governor,” cried he, as we entered. “You are a-done it.”
“Done what?” said Jack.
“Why, that there sam.”
“What about it?” we cried, eagerly.
“Oh, that there flashy bloke, Flanikin, ’e comes up, and says ’e, ‘Jack Smith in?’ says he—meanin’ you, governor. ‘Ain’t no concern of yourn,’ says I—not ’olding with them animals as comes to see yer. ‘Yes it is,’ says ’e, a blowin’ with the run he’d ’ad. ‘Tell ’im the moment ’e comes in that ’e’s fust in the sam,’ says he.”
“Hurrah!” I cried, forgetting everything in this good news. “Old man, how splendid!”
Jack too for a moment relaxed his grave face as he answered my greeting.
“I can hardly believe it,” said he.