GURTH AND HECKETT.
The news of the terrible accident on the railway had travelled far, and
Edward Heritage’s name had been seen among the list of the injured.
The identity of Squire Heritage with Edward Marston was known to Birnie
and Egerton. The latter was the first to bring the news of his death to
Josh Heckett. The sudden and tragic termination of Marston’s career
materially altered the aspect of affairs. He was beyond the reach of
all vengeance now.
Gurth, relieved by the discovery that the crime he had accused himself
of for years had existed only in his imagination, was in a sufficiently
charitable frame of mind to bear no malice towards a man who could now
do him no further harm. He had always had an intuitive dread of
Marston. Birnie had played his cards so well that both Gurth and
Heckett had always believed their old comrade knew more about the
affray in Heckett’s gambling-den than he cared to say.
‘And so he’s the fust to go arter all!’ exclaimed the old man, raising
himself with difficulty in the arm-chair where George had placed him.
He was so weak now that he required assistance to get across the room.
That burly frame had shrunk, and his clothes hung loosely about him.
His massive jaws were sunken, and the fierce eyes, large and bright
with the fatal light of consumption, were set in deep violet circles.
Every now and then a distressing cough shook him as a whirlwind shakes
the old tree, and the great beads of perspiration caused by the
paroxysm trickled down his attenuated face.
‘You’re very bad, Josh,’ said Gurth, as he sat by his side.
‘Ay, ay,’ answered the old man. ‘I’m goin’ to make a die of it, mate.
Josh Heckett’s had his sentence. I’m to be put away for good and all.’
‘Have you made your will?’
‘Will!’ said the old man, almost fiercely. ‘Who have I got to leave
anything to, and what have I got, eh?’
Gurth smiled.
‘You know best, Josh. I suppose you haven’t lived on air all these
years.’
‘No—I ain’t—but-’ He hesitated a moment, then added, with a resolute
accent, as though he had made a sudden le-solve, ‘There, it’s no good
a-playing dark any longer. You ain’t likely to want my bit o’ property,
so I’ll tell you what I’d like to do. I wants to leave all I got to
some charity—what’s a good’un?’
‘Charity!’ said Gurth. ‘But what about your grand-daughter? Charity
begins at home.’
Josh shook his head.
‘I shouldn’t like to leave what I got to her. She’s a-comin’ bimeby.
Mrs. Smith’s gone for her to come and see me afore I die.’
‘Gone for her—where?’
‘She’s been kept by Marston at his grand place all this time. Mrs.
Smith told me about the young gal as was there, and I see how it was in
a minnit. It was that teacher-lady as used to come here, as he
married—she ‘ticed her away.’
‘Ah!’ said Gurth, shaking his head, ‘there was some deep game on, Josh,
in Marston keeping Gertie dark from you. Now, whatever it was, it’s
beyond his reach now.’
‘I dunuo,’ answered Heckett. ‘I think it was the teacher-lady as was at
the bottom on it. Poor Gertie! I didn’t use her as I oughter a done.
For my poor dead girl’s sake I oughter a kept her out o’ my swim.’
‘And yet even now you are going to leave your property away from her!’
‘Yes, I am. Do you think she’d thank me for it, seein’ how I got it—by
robbin’ and swindlin’? It’s dirty money, governor, and I wants to do a
lot o’ good with it. I should like it for to go to a chapel, or a
church, or something. There cannot be no harm in that, ean there?’
‘Is it in money?’
‘Well, not all on it; a good bit is. There’s a lot o’ plate and a lot
o’ joolery, but I suppose that wouldn’t matter. Churches and chapels
don’t ask no questions when they has property left ‘em, do they?’ Gurth
smiled.
‘Can’t say, Josh. I haven’t any experience.’
‘At any rate, the gal don’t soil her fingers with none on it. I should
like to leave her summat, too—summat as I come by all right and
proper—summat as I needn’t be ashamed on; but I’m blest if I ever
earned much on the square, when I comes to think it over.’
Gurth turned the conversation.
‘What are you going to do about the Smiths now?’ he said.
‘Do? Why, see’em right, come what may. Marston’s dead, and nothing as I
can say will hurt him. I’m a-going to blow the whole gaff—make what
they call a clean breast on it. I couldn’t die easy if I thought as I’d
left that poor chap to be collared again.’
‘When are you going to do it?’
‘Bimeby,’ answered the old man uneasily; ‘bimeby.’
It was evident that although he had made up his mind to put himself at
the mercy of the law, he was loth to do so while the least chance of
life remained.
Gurth Egerton left him much perplexed about the disposal of his
property, and went away charged with a message to Birnie.
‘Tell him to give us a look in if he can,’ groaned Josh ‘I’m deuced
bad, and I can’t sleep. If he sees me he can give me summat as will let
me sleep; he’s done it afore. Tell him I shan’t trouble him much
longer, but I’d like for to see him if I can.’
Gurth took the thin, trembling hand of the old man and shook it gently.
‘I’ll tell him,’ he said. ‘He’ll come and see you, Josh. He doesn’t
forget old friends, though he is such a big pot now.’
‘No, no,’ said Heckett; ‘he’ll come—he’ll come. I want him to tell me
how long I shall live, for I’ve a lot to do—a lot to do.’
Wearied with the exertion of talking, old Heckett sank back in his
chair and closed his eyes, and Gurth, with a farewell nod, went out and
closed the door softly behind him.