Online Book Reader

Home Category

Steampunk Prime_ A Vintage Steampunk Reader - Mike Ashley [20]

By Root 229 0
radiance, and he saw the figure of a man detach itself from the black shadow of the houses and come to the top of the river bank. Then all was dark again. The wind blew him the sound of a familiar voice shouting for the ferryman, and through the noise of the gale he seemed to recognize the rasping intonation of the Automaton’s “Check.” A lighted doorway gave up another figure carrying a lantern, and he could just see the two grope their way down the greasy flags that led to the boat. The tide was nearly at its lowest, and long oily rolls of mud sloped from the roadway on either side to where the last of the ebb hurried on its race to the sea. The power of the current made the crossing a long one, and he could only see the intermittent twinkle of the lantern through the rain. For a long way it moved slowly up the stream and then edged gradually back towards the opposite landing place. There was a grating noise, the chink of a coin, and Mr. Dryden saw the figure of a man that limped a little come laboriously up the difficult path. He waited in the shadow, and when Mr. Murray came full into the light of the lamp that marked the ferry-place, stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, Murray,” he said, “we are well met; for though this evening brings us another meeting, I had rather I found you here. I have a matter to discuss with you.”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said the other, in a voice that shook with ill-repressed astonishment. “You have made a mistake. I do not know you, nor is my name Murray. I beg you will excuse me, I am about a business that presses.”

“Don’t be foolish, Murray,” said Mr. Dryden. “I tell you I recognize you; you’ve as much time as I have for a talk.”

“Again, sir, I repeat that you are wrong,” said the other. “I am not Murray, and your interference is impertinent. Good night.”

“Oh, you aren’t Murray, aren’t you; you think to face it out!” Said Mr. Dryden; “but I know you, you fraud. “What about these?” And, making a rapid step forward, he caught at his companion’s beard with both hands. It came away at once, jerking the spectacles with it. They fell and shattered on the pavement.

“Now are you Murray?” Shouted Mr. Dryden in a voice of passion. “Damn you, you shall own it! I’ve found out all about you and the Automaton trick, and I’ve come here for a little business talk. If you’ll only be sensible, we can soon come to terms.”

“You have discovered my identity and you have me at a disadvantage,” said Mr. Murray. “What do you want of me? Tell me quickly, for the time presses.”

“There can be no match till I come, so you needn’t hurry,” said Mr. Dryden. “Listen. I must have that money, and it’s just possible that you may beat me. I didn’t come here to threaten, only to frighten you out of your play by discovering my knowledge. It was your refusal to acknowledge yourself that gave me the idea. Now here is my proposal. You let me win, and I say nothing; beat me, and I expose you. An exposure would cost you a lot more than the £2,000 you lose to me.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort,” said Mr. Murray; “you make a great mistake if you think you can bully me. I had known you, Mr. Dryden, as a gentleman of good manners and repute. I am sorry to find out my mistake. You may do your worst, prove the trick if you can. Now let me pass.”

“You refuse then; well, you shan’t go. Curse you Murray, I must have the money. Don’t struggle or I shall hurt you. Oh, you will, will you? Take that, then.”

Swinging his heavily mounted stick, he struck the old librarian a crushing blow behind the ear. The old man fell headlong, and, rolling over, came upon the mud slope. Down this he began to slide, gathering force as he went, till Mr. Dryden, who was watching, aghast at his action, saw the stream catch the feet and swing the whole body round into the river. For a second the face showed white above the black water. Then it was gone into the darkness.

For a short time Mr. Dryden stood thinking. He found to his astonishment that he knew no remorse. One thought alone possessed him; that now he must win the match and

Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader