Midnight is a Place (28 page)

"Just the same I think we had better go to see him," Lady Murgatroyd said.

Mr. Hobday had not noticed that Anna-Marie had a companion, for Lady Murgatroyd had been standing somewhat behind her, in the shadow. He started violently and dropped a china jar which he had been holding. It broke.

"I think you had better give us this Gudgeon's address," Lady Murgatroyd said calmly.

"Y-y-yes, ma'am. He lives in an owd boat doon by th' Tidey River, in Wharf Lane. 'Tis the only one there; ye can't mistake."

"Thank you; we will go there directly," said Lady Murgatroyd, and walked away, leaving Mr. Hobday staring after them with drops of sweat rolling down his wizened cheeks, although it was a cold night.

"I am thinking,
Grand'mère,
" said Anna-Marie as they walked away. "Wharf Lane is a dark, dirty place, down by the river—it would be good if we buy two torches to take with us. We can get them here."

She turned aside to a lamp-oil and candle stall, which also sold articles known as "rats"—bundles of rushes or rags, tied to sticks and soaked in tar. Anna-Marie bought a couple of these for twopence apiece, and they hurried in the direction of Wharf Lane, through streets that became progressively darker and narrower and dirtier, until they were making their way down a tiny narrow passageway that would have been dark as pitch if they had not begged a light for their torches from a night watchman who was keeping guard over a load of hides on Tanner's Wharf.

"You seem to know this part of the town quite well?" said Lady Murgatroyd.

"Oh yes; when I am hunting for my cigar ends, you see, and the boys would not let me search the big streets, I went everywhere,
partout.
I do not find many here though," said Anna-Marie.

"Well, it is lucky for us you came here; otherwise we would certainly have lost our way a dozen times over."

The old boat occupied by Mr. Gudgeon was visible merely as a darkish bump on the riverbank when they first saw it.

"What if he is not at home?" Lady Murgatroyd said, but when they came closer to the boat they could see that a dim smoky light showed through one of the portholes. And there was a strong greasy smell of frying fish.

Anna-Marie banged on the side of the boat. When this produced no response, she picked up a stone and banged harder and louder. Still there was no answer from inside the boat, though it was plain that somebody was in there, for movements and footsteps could be heard.

"Well, we had better go in," said Anna-Marie, and climbed up onto the boat. "
Mon Dieu,
this boat smells even worse than Luc when he comes home before he has washed himself."

Indeed it was evident that a good many of the articles retrieved from the sewer were stacked and stored on Mr. Gudgeon's boat; there was hardly any deck space left. Lady Murgatroyd followed Anna-Marie, and they found a pair of doors, leading to a cabin, and knocked again.

This time there was no doubt that they had been heard, for the movements inside ceased completely, and there was a long, suspicious silence.

Anna-Marie rapped again, imperatively, with her stone.

"Who be there?" growled a surly voice.

"Open!" called Anna-Marie.

"We want to speak to you," added Lady Murgatroyd.

Anna-Marie rattled the door. It was finally unbolted and slowly pushed open. Anna-Marie could just recognize the figure that stood there, outlined against the light, as Gudgeon, by his white hair and tosher's costume, but he was so dirty that his features were hardly visible, even when they stepped closer with their flaring torches.

"Mr. Gudgeon!" said Anna-Marie. "We are anxious about Luc. Where is he? Did he leave the sewer with you this evening?"

For several minutes Gudgeon did not reply. At last, looking sideways at them in a curious manner, he muttered, "Woe to him that increaseth that is not his."

"Mr. Gudgeon!" said Lady Murgatroyd. "Where is the boy, Lucas, who works with you?"

"Hypocrites die in youth, and their life is unclean."

"Mr. Gudgeon—
Where id Lucas?
"

"I have gathered the peculiar treasure of kings. But two hundred pennyworth is not sufficient."

"
Please,
Monsieur Gudgeon!" cried Anna-Marie desperately. "Will you not tell us what has happened to Luc? We are so anxious about him."

Mr. Gudgeon became angry. He banged his fist furiously against the doorjamb and thundered at them: "Woe to them that draw iniquity with cords! Woe unto you that are rich, to you that are full, to you that laugh. Leave the cities and dwell in the rock! Hear this, thou that art given to pleasures!"

"Do you think he is mad?" Anna-Marie whispered doubtfully to Lady Murgatroyd.

"Perhaps—Mr. Gudgeon!" said Lady Murgatroyd loudly. "Will you please give us a clear answer? We want to know about the boy who works with you. Is he here?"

"I was left alone and saw this great vision. The weaned child put his hand in the cockatrice den. And the whole herd ran violently down! Behold he drinketh up the river and hasteth not."

"Oh,
mon Dieu
!" exclaimed Anna-Marie. She was half crying. "How can we find out what he means? He talks nothing but rubbish!"

Mr. Gudgeon retired inside his cabin for a moment, and then suddenly reappeared, looking extremely menacing, waving a rusty saw. "Trouble me not, the door is shut!" he shouted at them.

They backed away from him, warily.

"Do you suppose he might have Luc inside there?" Anna-Marie whispered.

"I think we should try to see."

However, Mr. Gudgeon waving the saw was a fairly alarming sight, as he advanced toward them with the whites of his eyes gleaming in the torchlight.

"D-do you think we should call the constables?" asked Anna-Marie with her teeth chattering. "
J'ai peur, moi!
"

"I think we shall have to. His manner is certainly very strange. And the things he says do seem as if they might have something to do with Lucas."

They clambered quickly but cautiously off the boat. Then Mr. Gudgeon suddenly surprised them by leaping off the boat himself, and bounding away from them along the riverbank, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Hast thou entered into the treasure of the snow? Or hast thou seen the treasure of the hail? I wash myself in snow water and make my hands clean, for I slew a lion in a pit on a snowy day!"

Shouting and flourishing the saw, he disappeared into the darkness.

"I must confess/' said Lady Murgatroyd, "that I do not like the look of this at all. However, now seems a good moment to inspect the inside of his boat. Do you take a quick look, my child, while I keep watch in case he decides to come back again."

Accordingly Anna-Marie scrambled back on board and, trembling but resolute, edged her way into the smoky cabin, which was lit only by a fire burning in a brazier. She held her torch high and looked around. The stench in here was so thick that it was like being surrounded by frightful fur; quite plainly, Mr. Gudgeon never cleaned either himself or his dwelling. Bones,old crusts, half-eaten carrots, lay scattered among muddy and unappetizing-looking treasures which had either been rejected by Mr. Hobday or never shown to him. The inside of the cabin was so squalid that, quite apart from her fear of Gudgeon returning, about fifty seconds of it was all Anna-Marie could endure.

There was no sign of Lucas.

"
Iln'est pas la,
" she reported, jumping off the boat.

"Well that's a relief, at all events," said Lady Murgatroyd. "For really I began to believe that poor madman might have Lucas tied up in there, or be intending to slice him up for his breakfast."

"What do you think we should do now?"

"I think we should follow him a little way, if we can, and see where he goes."

"Good," said Anna-Marie. "I think so too. And Luc has told me that the way into the sewer lies somewhere along this bank. If—if we must," she said, jamming her teeth together to stop them from chattering, "I think we should go in there and hunt for Luc. It is good we have our torches."

They made their way with caution along the slipperybank, on which the fast-falling snow did not lie for long, but continually formed a thin melting crust over the soft mud; it was hard to walk on top without sinking through. The tide was coming in; small crescent-shaped waves nibbled along the mud below them. The wind blew strongly and carried the smoke and flame from their torches ahead of them; it seemed to carry the light as well.

"Where do you suppose Gudgeon has gone?" Anna-Marie said in a low voice.

"He may be anywhere," said Lady Murgatroyd rather hopelessly. "It is so hard to see through the snow.... No wonder poor Lucas has been rather despondent lately. He can hardly have enjoyed patroling the sewers with Gudgeon. Has he been like this all along?"

"No, no, I think at first he was quite sensible—oh, what is that?"

The light from their torches had flickered on something moving rapidly through the snowflakes ahead of them: bounding along, stooping, rising up, and continuing on an erratic, zigzag progress.

"I think it is Gudgeon again," Lady Murgatroyd said, screening her eyes with her hand to keep out the snow. "I am sure nobody else would be dancing about on the riverbank in such weather. Perhaps we had now better go up into the town and call the constables—"

"He seems to be searching for something. I do not think he has seen us," said Anna-Marie, biting her lip. "Let us just wait to see if he goes into the sewer; I am sure the entrance must be close to here. If we had a weapon—something to fight with, in case he looks back and sees us and becomes
méchant—
"

"A stone is better than nothing. There are plenty of those."

Providing themselves with suitable stones, they moved on carefully toward Gudgeon. All they could see of him at present was his head. Where he stood, the riverbank was divided by a deep gully. He had descended into it, and now bent down, so that he was completely concealed from view.

"That must be the sewer entrance—Luc has said there is a little river running out. Wait here,
Grand'mère,
one moment, while I tiptoe up and see what he is doing—"

Stooping low, Anna-Marie stole along to the edge of the gully and looked over.

"Be very careful!" Lady Murgatroyd called in a whisper. But in the driving snow there was not a very great chance of her being seen.

Anna-Marie knelt on the verge and peered, screwing up her eyes. Then suddenly she let out a shriek:

"Oh,
coquin, assassin, monstre!
Stop what you are doing, leave him!"

"What is it?" demanded Lady Murgatroyd.

Anna-Marie had lifted her arm and flung the stone she held as hard as she was able; there followed a thud from below, and a shout. She picked up another stone and scrambled over the edge. Lady Murgatroyd followed her with all speed and found her crouched over something resembling a pile of old rags that lay at the water's edge. Gudgeon, who had evidently lost his balance and fallen when the stone hit him, was clambering to his feet, muttering something about a jewel of gold in a swine's snout. The light from Lady Murgatroyd's torch picked out a gleam in the snow halfway up the slope. It was the saw, which Gudgeon had dropped when he fell. Very prudently, Lady Murgatroyd grasped the handle before he could recover it, and flung it out into the river.

Gudgeon began to wail. "My hope is lost, I am cut off. I will go to a cave and lodge there."

Waving his arms in a frantic manner he ran up the side of the stinking rivulet and disappeared under a black archway.

Anna-Marie was frenziedly pulling and lifting the crumpled heap of garments down by the water.

"Oh," she sobbed, "if he has hurt him—if he has killed him!"

"Is it Lucas?"

"Yes! And he is so cold! And all covered in slime and mud! I cannot see if he is cut, even, or if he breathes—"

"Well, let us get him away from the water's edge," said Lady Murgatroyd. "What a mercy that we came along when we did, for in another fifteen minutes the tide would have carried him away."

"I think that Gudgeon—that pig, that brute!—was just going to push him into the water when I saw him."

Between them they lifted and pulled the inert body of Lucas up to a safer point on the bank. Then Lady Murgatroyd felt carefully for his heartbeat and pronounced him to be alive.

"He is breathing, but very slowly. And he is dreadfully cold. I think we shall need to get help; we cannot carry him far between us. I had best stay here with him, my child, while you run fast and fetch assistance; there are houses not too far away."

"Yes, you are right. I will be quick as lightning," promised Anna-Marie. Then she bounded away up the slope.

She was as good as her word. Within seven minutes Lady Murgatroyd heard her call, "Here we are,
Grand'mère\
Is he all right still?"

She came climbing back down the bank with a youngish and active-looking man close behind her. "I was lucky to meet this monsieur not far away in Haddock Street and he is good enough to come and assist us—"

"Eh, poor lad! 'Twere loocky for him you happened along this way. He looks like one o' the tosh boys," said the man, expertly sliding an arm under Lucas's shoulders, while Anna-Marie and Lady Murgatroyd took a leg apiece. "He wouldn't ha' lasted the night through if ye hadn't found him, reckon."

"Where shall we carry him?" panted Anna-Marie. "There is the house of Madame Tetley at this end of the street—but I daresay she would not be pleased—"

"Nay, t'best thing'll be to take him to my mam's house—she lives nobbut a dumpling's throw away," the man said, and guided them to a house at the opposite end of the street from Mrs. Tetley's. There he deposited Lucas, gently enough, on the cobbled footway, while he knocked on the door.

"Hey, oop, moother! Art tha home?"

"A'reet, a'reet, no need to raise the dead, lad!" cried a voice from within, and the door was flung open by a plump, goodna-tured-looking woman with whitish-fair hair in curlpapers, and a soiled apron, and felt slippers. "What's to do, then Davey?"