it seemed now as though the lull in the weather was over; for after that one gust of wind, there came others; and in the course of a very short time, indeed, the surface of the water was much agitated, and such a howling noise was kept up by the wind, that todd thought every moment that he heard the voices of his foes.
"what am i to do now?" he said. "oh, what am i to do? i dare not wait here until daylight. that would be destruction. what is to become of me?"
he came round the sides of the barge with the hope that some wherry had been moored to it, but he found that that hope was a fallacious one indeed. there was the gloomy-looking vessel moored far out in the stream, with him as its only passenger.
any one without todd's load of guilt upon his soul, and upon better terms with human nature, could soon have got assistance, for the distance from the shore was by no means so great but that his voice must have been heard had he chosen to exert it; but that would not do for him. he dreaded that his presence upon the barge should be known, and yet he alike dreaded that the morning's light should come shiningly upon him, without any boat coming to take him off.
to be sure, the two men who had brought him there had made a half-promise to come to his aid, but he felt certain he could not depend upon their doing so. the look with which they had regarded him upon the doubt, even, that he might be so frightful a criminal as he really was, was sufficient to convince him that while that doubt remained they would not return.
"and what," he said, "is to dissipate the doubt? nothing—nothing! but anything may confirm it. accidents always tell for the truth—never to its prevention, and so i am lost—lost—quite lost."
the bitterness of death seemed almost to be upon the point of assailing todd. he could fancy that spirits of the murdered shrieked and wailed around him, as the wind whistled by his trembling frame.
in this wretched state an hour passed, and then todd thought he heard a voice.
"what is that?" he said. "oh, what is that?"
he inclined his head as low down to the edge of the water as he could get it, and heard distinctly some one singing to the stroke of a pair of oars, as they were deliberately dipped into the stream. the voice sounded like that of some young lad, and a hope of succour sprung up in the breast of todd.
in the course of a few moments he became perfectly convinced that the boat was approaching the barge, and he shrunk down so that by being prematurely seen he might not alarm the boy who was rowing down the stream. the song continued, and it was quite evident from the manner in which the boy sung it, that he was quite delighted with his own powers in that line.
"i must speak to him," thought todd. "if i let him pass there may not be another chance, now. i must speak to this boy, and speak to him freely too. he comes—he comes."
it was not so dark but that todd could see pretty well the surface of the river, and presently in dusky outline he was conscious of the approach of a wherry in which was a boy, and he could see how the boy moved his head to and fro to the tune that he was amusing himself with.
"hilloa!" cried todd.
now todd in this "hilloa!" had for once in a way tuned his voice to such a gentle pleasant sound, that it was quite a wonder to hear it, and he was rather himself surprised at the manner in which he managed it so as not to be at all alarming.
the boy stopped rowing and looked about him. it was evident at the moment that he could not tell where the sound came from.
"hilloa!" said todd, again.
"ay—ay!" said the boy; "where are you?"
"here, my dear," said todd, "on board of the barge, bless you. how are you, my fine fellow—eh?"
"oh, i'm pretty well. who are you?"
"why, don't you know me? i'm mr. smith. how is your father, my lad—eh?"
"oh, father's all right enough; but i didn't know as he knowed a mr. smith at all."
"oh, yes, he does. everybody knows a mr. smith. come on, you can give me a lift to shore off the barge here. this way. just step up to the side and i'll step into your pretty little wherry. and so your father is quite well—eh, my fine lad? do you know i was afraid he had caught a little cold, and really have been quite uneasy about him."
"have you?" said the boy, as he pulled up to the side of the barge. "where do you want to go to?"
"oh, anywhere you happen to be going, that's all, my fine lad. how you do grow, to be sure!"
"but how came you here, out in the river on the dredging-barge? do you belong to her?"
"to be sure i do. i am mr. deputy inspector dredger smith, and am forced to come and superintend the barge, you see; but my boat that i sent to shore for something, has not come back, and i am getting cold, for i am not so young as you are, you know."
"why, i don't suppose you is, sir," said the boy; "but i'll put you ashore, if you like."
"thank you, i should like."
"get in, then, sir. all's right. i'll hold on to the barge. easy—easy with you, sir. that will do. which side of the river, sir, would you like to be put ashore at, if you please?"
the boy was evidently deeply impressed with the importance of the title of deputy inspector dredger, and was quite deferential to todd.
how delighted was todd to get off the barge! it seemed to him like a reprieve from death.
"which way is the tide, boy?" he said.
"running down, sir, but not fast."
"that will do. i will trouble you, then, to row with it as comfortably and as fast as you can.
"but i'm going, sir, to westminster, to meet father. i can't go down the river, please sir. i would if i could. i said i would put you on shore on either side you like, and that's a waste of time, for the tide is getting fuller every minute, and it will be a hard pull against it, as it is. i can't go down the river, so don't ask me, sir; indeed i can't."
"indeed?"
"no, sir. if i put you ashore, you will find lots of watermen who will be glad enough of the job."
"what's your name?"
"bill white, sir."
todd compels bill white to assist his escape from the thames police.
todd compels bill white to assist his escape from the thames police.
"very well, bill white. i dare say you have ears at your age, and guess that to have one's brains blown out is not one of the most agreeable things in the world, and perhaps you know a pistol when you see one. this that i take from my pocket and hold at your head is carefully loaded, and if you don't pull away at once with the tide down the river, i will scatter your brains into the river, and throw your lifeless carcass after them. do you understand that, mr. bill white?"
todd uttered these words in such a tone of fiendish malignity, and glared into the eyes of the poor boy so, that he nearly drove him out of his wits, and it was as much as his trembling hands could do to hold the oars. for the space of about half a minute he could only glare at todd with his eyes and mouth as wide open as they could be.
"speak, devil's whelp!" cried todd. "why do you not answer me?"
"murder!" cried the boy.
todd caught him by the throat, and if the oars had not been well up in the rollocks, they must have gone overboard.
"another such cry," said todd, "and it is the last you shall have the opportunity of making in this world."
"oh, no—no—"
"but i say yes. listen to me! if you row me as i direct you, i will not only do you no harm, but i will pay you well. if you still obstinately refuse, i will murder you, and murder your father likewise, upon the first opportunity."
"i will row you down the river, sir. oh, yes, i will do it. indeed i will, sir."
"very well. take your oars, and pull away."
the boy was in such a state of trembling, that although it was quite evident he did his best to obey todd, it was with the greatest difficulty that he could pull a stroke, and it took him some minutes to get the boat's head round to the tide.
"be careful," said todd. "if i see you willing, i make any allowance for you; but if i fancy, for a moment, that there is any idea of not obeying me, i will kill you!"
"i am obeying you, sir."
"very well. now, listen attentively to what i am about further to say to you, bill white. you can pull away while you listen. we are going now very well with the stream."
"yes, sir."
"we shall, no doubt, pass many wherries, and you may think it a very good thing to call out for help, and to say that i threatened to murder you, and all that sort of thing; but so soon as you do, you die. i will hold this pistol in my hand, and whenever we come near a wherry, my finger will be upon the trigger, and the muzzle at your head. you understand all that, i hope, bill white?"
"of course i do, sir."
"go on then."
todd reclined back in the stern of the boat, and kept his eyes fixed upon the boy, down whose cheeks the tears rolled in abundance, as he pulled down the stream. having the tide fully in its favour, the wherry, with very little labour, made great way; and todd, as he saw the dawn slowly creeping on, began to congratulate himself upon the cleverness with which he had escaped from the barge.
the river began to widen—the pool was left behind, and the dull melancholy shore of essex soon began to show itself, as the tide, by each moment increasing in strength, carried the light boat swiftly along its undulating surface, with its frightfully wicked load.
todd thought it would be as well now to say something of a cheering character to the boy. modulating his voice, he said—
"now, you see, my lad, that by obeying me you have done the very best thing you possibly could, and when i think proper to land, i will give you a guinea for yourself."
"i don't want it," said the boy.
"you don't want it?"
"no; and i won't have it."
"what do you mean by that, you idiot of a boy? how dare you tell me to my face that you won't have what i offer you?"
"i don't see," said bill white, "how that ought to put you in a passion. all you want is to make me row you down the river. well, you have made me, cos i don't want to be shot down like a mad dog, of course; but i won't be paid for doing what i don't like—not i."
"well, it don't matter to me. you may please yourself about that; i am just as well pleased at being rowed for nothing as if i paid for it. you can please yourself in that particular; but it would have been better for you to have taken what i chose to give you than to have refused it."
the boy made no answer to this speech, but rowed on in sullen silence. he no longer wept now, and it was evident to todd that indignation was rapidly taking the place of fear in his heart. todd even began to debate with himself whether it would not be better to throw him into the river and take the oars himself, and trust to his own skill to conduct the boat with the stream to gravesend, than was the risk of any sudden act of the boy's that might bring danger upon him.
it would have been but a poor satisfaction to todd to have shot the boy at the moment possibly of his calling for help, when the sight of such an act would be sufficient to insure his capture, without people troubling themselves about what he had done or not done before.
these were considerations that began to make todd very unhappy indeed.
"well, bill white," he said; "as your father, no doubt, expects you by this time, and i daresay you will be glad enough to go back and forget all about the little disagreement that we have had, i will get you to land me at once at those stairs yonder, and then we will shake hands and part."
"no we won't."
"ah?"
"i say we won't shake hands. i'm willing enough that we should part, but as for the shaking hands, i won't do it; and i'm quite willing to pull in to the stairs."
as he spoke he inclined the head of the boat to a little landing-place, where a few wherries were moored.
