Jimmy. I pay you!"
"But so little!" whined Vark, rising; "if you---"
At this moment there came a sharp knock at the door of the shop, and the two villains, always expectant of the police, stared at one another, motionless with terror for the moment. Vark, who always took care of his skin, snatched up his hat and made for the back-door, whence, in the fog, he could gain his own house unquestioned and unseen. Like a ghost he vanished, leaving Jacob motionless until aroused by a repetition of the knock.
"Can't be peelers," he muttered, taking a pistol out of a cupboard, "but it might be thieves. Well, if it is---" He smiled grimly, and without finishing his sentence he shuffled along to the door, candle in hand. A third knock came, as the clock in the shop struck eleven.
"Who is there, so late?" demanded Jacob, sharply.
"I am--Hagar Stanley!"
With a cry of terror, Mr. Dix let the candle fall, and in the darkness dropped also. For the moment,--so much had his thoughts been running on the dead wife,--the unexpected mention of her name made him believe that she was standing rigid in her winding-sheet on the other side of the door. One frail partition between the living and the dead! It was terrible!
"The ghost of Hagar!" muttered Dix, white and shaking. "Why has she come out of her grave?--and so expensive it was; bricked; with a marble tombstone."
"Let me in! let me in, Mr. Dix!" cried the visitor, again rapping.
"She never called me by that name," said Jacob, reassured, and scrambling for the candle; then, having lighted it, he added aloud: "I don't know any one called Hagar Stanley."
"Open the door, and you will. I'm your wife's niece."
"Flesh and blood!" said the old man, fumbling at the lock--"I don't mind that."
He flung wide the door, and out of the fog and darkness a young girl of twenty years stepped into the shop. She was dressed in a dark red garment made of some coarse stuff, and over this she wore a short black cloak. Her hands were bare, and also her head, save for a scarlet handkerchief, which was carelessly twisted round her magnificent black hair. The face was of the true Romany type Oriental in its contour and hue, with arched eyebrows over large dark eyes, and a thin-lipped mouth beautifully shaped, under a delicately-curved nose. Face and figure were those of a woman who needed palms and desert sands and golden sunshine, hot and sultry, for an appropriate background; yet this Eastern beauty appeared out of the fog like some dead Syrian princess, and presented herself in all her rich loveliness to the astonished eyes of the old pawnbroker.
"So you are the niece of my dead Hagar?" he said, staring earnestly at her in the thin yellow light of the candle. "Yes, it's true. She looked like you when I met her in the New Forest. What d'ye want?"
"Food and shelter," replied the girl, curtly. "But you'd better shut the door; it might be bad for your reputation if any passer-by saw you speaking to a woman at this time of night."
"My reputation!" chuckled Jacob, closing end bolting the door. "Lord! that's past spoiling. If you knew how bad it is, you wouldn't come here."
"Oh, I can look after myself, Mr. Dix, especially as you're old enough to be my great-grandfather twice over."
"Come, come! Civil words, young woman!"
"I'm civil to those who are civil to me," retorted Hagar, taking the candle out of her host's hands. "Go on, Mr. Dix, show me in; I'm tired, and want to sleep. I'm hungry, and wish food. You must give me bed and board."
"Infernal insolence, young woman! Why?"
"Because I'm kin to your dead Hagar."
"Aye, aye, there's something in that," muttered Dix, and dominated, in spite of his inherent obstinacy, by the imperious spirit of the girl, he led her into the dingy parlor. Here she removed her cloak and sat down, while Jacob, in an unusual spirit of hospitality, induced by the mention of his late wife, produced some coarse victuals.
Without a word he placed the food before his guest; without a word she ate, and was refreshed. Jacob marveled at the self-possession of the gipsy, and was rather pleased than otherwise with her bold coolness. Only when she had finished the last scrap of bread and cheese did he speak. His first remark was curt and rude--designedly so.
"You can't stay here!" said the amiable old man
The girl retorted in kind: "I can, and I shall, Mr. Dix."
"For what reason, you jade?"
"For several--and all good ones," said Hagar leaning her chin on her hands and looking steadily at his wrinkled face. "I know all about you from a Romany chal who was up here six months ago. Your wife is dead; your son has left you; and here you live alone, disliked and hated by all. You are old and feeble and solitary; but you are by marriage akin to the gentle Romany. For that reason, and because I am of your dead rani's blood, I have come to look after you."
"Jezebel! That is, if I'll let you!"
"Oh, you'll let me fast enough," replied the woman, carelessly. "You are a miser, I have heard; so you won t lose the chance of getting a servant for nothing."
"A servant! You?" said Dix, admiring her imperial air.
"Even so, Mr. Dix. I'll look after you and your house. I'll scrub and cook and mend. If you'll teach me your trade, I'll drive a bargain with any one--and as hard and fast a one as you could drive yourself. And all these things I'll do for nothing."
"There's food and lodging, you hussy."
"Give me dry bread and cold water, your roof to cover me, and a bundle of straw to sleep on. These won't cost you much, and I ask for nothing more--Skinflint."
"How dare you call me that, you wild cat!"
"It's what they call you hereabouts," said Hagar with a shrug. "I think it suits you. Well, Mr. Dix, I have made my offer."
"I haven't accepted it yet," snapped Jacob, puzzled by the girl. "Why do you come to me? Why don't you stay with your tribe?"
"I can explain that in five minutes, Mr. Dix. We Stanleys are just now in the New Forest. You know it?"
"Truly lass," said Dix, sadly. "'Twas there I met my Hagar."
"And it is from there that I, the second Hagar, come," replied the girl. "I was with my tribe' and I was happy till Goliath came."
"Goliath?" inquired Jacob, doubtfully.
"He is half a Gorgio and half Romany--a red-haired villain, who chose to fall in love with me. I hated him. I hate him still!"--the woman's bosom rose and fell in short, hurried pantings--"and he would have forced me to be his wife. Pharaoh--our king, you know--would have forced me also to be this man's rani, so I had no one to protect me, and I was miserable. Then I recalled what the chal had told me about you who wed with one of us; so I fled hither for your protection, and to be your servant."
"But Goliath--this red-haired brute?"
"He does not know where I have gone, he will never find me here. Let me stay, Mr. Dix, and be your servant. I have nowhere to go to, no one to seek, save you, the husband of the dead Hagar, after whom I am named. Am I to stay or go, now that I have told you the truth?"
Jacob
