“Where yer been to?” he said in a husky voice as he stared up at Clensy.
Clensy made no reply, but simply looked round the room and wondered why Biglow was so busy packing his old carpet bag.
“Going to move again?” he said, as Biglow looked up, gave him a friendly glance and then continued to ram pipes, thread and coloured shirts into the bag.
Biglow suddenly ceased from packing, and, standing erect, said:
“If you hang about here after Sestrina much more, you’ll get shot. Savvy?”
“I’ll hang about who I like, Mr. Bartholomew Biglow,” replied Clensy, with considerable warmth. He was rather sensitive about any remarks that referred to Sestrina, for Adams and Biglow had chaffed him a good deal of late over his infatuation for Gravelot’s daughter.
“So! so! good lad; don’t be angry. Sestrina’s worth a hundred maids and shots in the back. Got beautiful eyes too. Reminds me of Queen Vaekehu, of the Marquesas, my first wife,” said Biglow.
“Your queen wasn’t a patch on Sestrina. Never seed a girl wif such beautiful eyes and lovely bust,” chimed in Adams, who at the same time gave Clensy a friendly wink.
“Don’t be silly,” said Clensy as he calmed down; then he added, “Why are you packing up?”
“Because it’s a-coming, a blasted revolution, blazes and murder, and thet’s ’zakley what Biggy here means,” said Adams.
Clensy’s heart thumped like a muffled drum.
“Look you here,” said Biglow, as he regarded the young Englishman with his large serious-looking eyes. “It’s coming along any moment now; the Cacaos are only awaiting the signal to blaze this town to the ground and shoot every one who happens to get in the way. Savvy?”
The expression on Biglow’s face told Clensy that he meant what he said.
“Can it be possible, in these enlightened times, too?”
“It can!” said Biglow quietly, as he stared at our hero for a moment as though in some hesitation; then he leaned forward and said: “I’ve been doing a bit of gun-running for both sides, the legal authorities and the rebels too, and you’ve been seen with me, and that means that they would shoot you at sight to settle their doubts—if they had any!”
“Thank you, Mr. Bartholomew Biglow,” said Clensy.
Then the big man looked half sorrowfully at Clensy and said: