“Telling ’em all about the diamond,” said the seaman. “Oh, yes. Well, you can do that now if you feel so inclined. They know all about that, bless you, and, if they were had, they’d blab about the diamond.”
“Have they been dogging you?” inquired the pawnbroker.
“Dogging me!” said the seaman. “Dogging’s no word for it. Wherever I’ve been they’ve been my shadders. They want to hurt me, but they’re careful about being hurt themselves. That’s where I have the pull of them. They want the stone back first, and revenge afterwards, so I thought I’d put you on your guard, for they pretty well guess who’s got the thing now. You’ll know Wheeler by his nose, which is broken.”
“I’m not afraid of them,” said the Jew, “but thank you for telling me. Did they follow you here?”
“They’re outside, I’ve no doubt,” said the other; “but they come along like human cats—leastways, the Burmah chap does. You want eyes in the back of your head for them almost. The Burmese is an old man and soft as velvet, and Jack Ball just afore he died was going to tell me something about him. I don’t know what it was; but, pore Jack, he was a superstitious sort o’ chap, and I know it was something horrible. He was as brave as a lion, was Jack, but he was afraid o’ that little shrivelled-up Burmese. They’ll follow me to the ship to-night. If they’ll only come close enough, and there’s nobody nigh, I’ll do Jack a good turn.”
“Stay here till the morning,” said the Jew.
The seaman shook his head. “I don’t want to miss my ship,” said he; “but remember what I’ve told you, and mind, they’re villains, both of them, and if you are not very careful, they’ll have you, sooner or later. Good-night!”
He buttoned up his coat, and leading the way to the door, followed by the Jew with the candle, opened it noiselessly, and peered carefully out right and left. The alley was empty.
“Take this,” said the Jew, proffering his pistol.
“I’ve got one,” said the seaman. “Good-night!”