It was opened, almost immediately, by Corporal Richard Roe himself,
who stared a moment, smiled, and thereupon extended a huge hand.
"What, is it you, sir?" he exclaimed, "for a moment I didn't know ye.
Step in, sir, step in, we're proud to see ye."
So saying, he ushered Barnabas down two steps into the small but
very snug chamber that he remembered, with its rows upon rows of
shelves whereon a whole regiment of bottles and glasses were drawn
up in neat array, "dressed" and marshalled as if on parade; it was
indeed a place of superlative tidiness where everything seemed to be
in a perpetual state of neatness and order.
In a great elbow chair beside the ingle, with a cushion at his back
and another beneath one foot, sat Mr. Shrig puffing at a pipe and
with his little reader open on the table at his elbow. He looked a
little thinner and paler than usual, and Barnabas noticed that one
leg was swathed in bandages, but his smile was as innocent and
guileless and his clasp as warm as ever as they greeted each other.
"You must ax-cuse me rising, sir," said he, "the sperrit is villing
but natur' forbids, it can't be done on account o' this here leg o'
mine,--a slug through the stamper, d' ye see, vich is bad enough,
though better than it might ha' been. But it vere a good night on
the whole,--thanks to you and the Corp 'ere, I got the whole gang,
--though, from conclusions as I'd drawed I'ad 'oped to get--vell,
shall ve say Number Two? But Fate was ag'in me. Still, I don't
complain, and the vay you fought 'em off till the Corp and my
specials come up vas a vonder!"
"Ah! that it were!" nodded the Corporal.
"Though 'ow you wanished yourself avay, and v'ere you wanished to,
is more vonderful still."
"Ah, that it is, sir!" nodded the Corporal again.
"Why," explained Barnabas, "I was stunned by a blow on the head, and
when I came to, found myself lying out on the wharf behind a broken
boat. I should have come round here days ago to inquire how you were,
Mr. Shrig, only that my time has been--much occupied--of late."
"Veil, sir," said Mr. Shrig, puffing hard at his pipe, "from all
accounts I should reckon as it 'ad. By Goles! but ve vas jest
talking about you, sir, the werry i-dentical moment as you knocked
at the door. I vas jest running over my little reader and telling
the Corp the v'y and the v'erefore as you couldn't ha' done the deed."
"What deed?"
"V'y--the deed. The deed as all London is a-talking of,--the
murder o' Jasper Gaunt, the money-lender."