"Mind them top bannisters,"says she,as Trottle laid his hand on them."They are as rotten as medlars every one of 'em.""When people come to see the premises,"says Trottle,trying to feel his way a little farther into the mystery of the House,"you don't bring many of them up here,do you?""Bless your heart alive!"says she,"nobody ever comes now.The outside of the house is quite enough to warn them off.Mores the pity,as I say.It used to keep me in spirits,staggering 'em all,one after another,with the frightful high rent--specially the women,drat 'em.'What's the rent of this house?'--'Hundred and twenty pound a-year!'--'Hundred and twenty?why,there ain't a house in the street as lets for more than eighty!'--Likely enough,ma'am;other landlords may lower their rents if they please;but this here landlord sticks to his rights,and means to have as much for his house as his father had before him!'--'But the neighbourhood's gone off since then!'--'Hundred and twenty pound,ma'am.'--'The landlord must be mad!'--'Hundred and twenty pound,ma'am.'--'Open the door you impertinent woman!'Lord!what a happiness it was to see 'em bounce out,with that awful rent a-ringing in their ears all down the street!"She stopped on the second-floor landing to treat herself to another chuckle,while Trottle privately posted up in his memory what he had just heard."Two points made out,"he thought to himself:"the house is kept empty on purpose,and the way it's done is to ask a rent that nobody will pay.""Ah,deary me!"says Benjamin's mother,changing the subject on a sudden,and twisting back with a horrid,greedy quickness to those awkward money-matters which she had broached down in the parlour.
"What we've done,one way and another for Mr.Forley,it isn't in words to tell!That nice little bit of business of ours ought to be a bigger bit of business,considering the trouble we take,Benjamin and me,to make the imp upstairs as happy as the day is long.If good Mr.Forley would only please to think a little more of what a deal he owes to Benjamin and me--""That's just it,"says Trottle,catching her up short in desperation,and seeing his way,by the help of those last words of hers,to slipping cleverly through her fingers."What should you say,if I told you that Mr.Forley was nothing like so far from thinking about that little matter as you fancy?You would be disappointed,now,if I told you that I had come to-day without the money?"--(her lank old jaw fell,and her villainous old eyes glared,in a perfect state of panic,at that!)--"But what should you say,if I told you that Mr.Forley was only waiting for my report,to send me here next Monday,at dusk,with a bigger bit of business for us two to do together than ever you think for?What should you say to that?"The old wretch came so near to Trottle,before she answered,and jammed him up confidentially so close into the corner of the landing,that his throat,in a manner,rose at her.
"Can you count it off,do you think,on more than that?"says she,holding up her four skinny fingers and her long crooked thumb,all of a tremble,right before his face.
"What do you say to two hands,instead of one?"says he,pushing past her,and getting down-stairs as fast as he could.
What she said Trottle thinks it best not to report,seeing that the old hypocrite,getting next door to light-headed at the golden prospect before her,took such liberties with unearthly names and persons which ought never to have approached her lips,and rained down such an awful shower of blessings on Trottle's head,that his hair almost stood on end to hear her.He went on down-stairs as fast as his feet would carry him,till he was brought up all standing,as the sailors say,on the last flight,by agravating Benjamin,lying right across the stair,and fallen off,as might have been expected,into a heavy drunken sleep.
The sight of him instantly reminded Trottle of the curious half likeness which he had already detected between the face of Benjamin and the face of another man,whom he had seen at a past time in very different circumstances.He determined,before leaving the House,to have one more look at the wretched muddled creature;and accordingly shook him up smartly,and propped him against the staircase wall,before his mother could interfere.
"Leave him to me;I'll freshen him up,"says Trottle to the old woman,looking hard in Benjamin's face,while he spoke.
The fright and surprise of being suddenly woke up,seemed,for about a quarter of a minute,to sober the creature.When he first opened his eyes,there was a new look in them for a moment,which struck home to Trottle's memory as quick and as clear as a flash of light.
The old maudlin sleepy expression came back again in another instant,and blurred out all further signs and tokens of the past.
But Trottle had seen enough in the moment before it came;and he troubled Benjamin's face with no more inquiries.
"Next Monday,at dusk,"says he,cutting short some more of the old woman's palaver about Benjamin's indisgestion."I've got no more time to spare,ma'am,to-night:please to let me out."With a few last blessings,a few last dutiful messages to good Mr.
Forley,and a few last friendly hints not to forget next Monday at dusk,Trottle contrived to struggle through the sickening business of leave-taking;to get the door opened;and to find himself,to his own indescribable relief,once more on the outer side of the House To Let.
