"Well—but—but," Jemmy stammered; "this person wants to see you about that youth that was with you this morning, Jinks, and——"
"Whew! Jemmy Jolter, you've let it out again," replied the strange voice within: "get home, ye long-tongued fool, get home! what fool is that beside ye to employ such a sieve to carry water?"
"Oh, very well, Jinks," said the weak landlord, turning round in dudgeon: "a time may come when you may want a good turn doing, you know."
"I'll let you in, by yourself, Jemmy, if you like," said the keeper of this questionable garrison, fearful of losing the good offices of the landlord; "or I'll admit that verjuice-faced fellow who stands beside you, with the white apron round him."
The outer party here looked at each other with some alarm, on finding they were each seen so plainly by one who was to them invisible.
"You don't think I shall advise a respectable man and a stranger to come into such a den as yours, alone,—do ye, Jinks?" said the other, in a voice of displeasure.
"Then you may both keep out," retorted the concealed speaker; "at any rate, you'll both be safe there. Twist my withers, if ever I admit two clients into chambers at once! No, no! it wouldn't do, Jemmy! What I say here goes into only one pair of ears besides my own."
"I'll venture alone, if he'll only admit me," said Straitlace, his eagerness to learn something of Sam, and, if possible, to recover the possession of him, subduing the repugnance he felt against trusting himself alone in such suspicious company.
The door was slightly opened in a moment; and before the landlord could remonstrate, Straitlace was admitted, and the bolts were again closed within. Jinks seized his visitor by the hand, and rapidly pulled him up a dark stair. Straitlace's mind misgave him, as he reached the top of the ascent: it conducted to a narrow apartment in which there was no furniture but a broken chair, and a strong wooden bench; while a bottle, and an earthen pot, with some discoloured papers, covered the end of a barrel which appeared to serve the wretched habitant of the room for a table. There was no fire in the dirty grate, and viewed through the murky light admitted by the small window which was half-obscured with papers, patching the broken panes, the appearance of the squalid chamber sent a shuddering feeling over Straitlace's skin.