“Mr. Wilton, I have some work here for you.” He put the silver cup upon the table. It will require your nicest skill, and the instructions are therefore rather elaborate, so, if you please, I will wait until you are disengaged before I”----
“No! no! no!” exclaimed old Wilton, interrupting him, Snatching up the cup, he thrust it back into the arms of young Vivian--“take it away--take it away!” he added, almost frantically, “it must not remain here now. No! no! no!”
“Why not?” asked the individual in the loose great coat, sharply.
“Silence! speak not,” cried Wilton, hoarsely, glaring at him; and then turning to the apprentice, he ejaculated, with great excitement, “Go--go; I beg--I entreat you to go away. Pray, young sir, go!”
“But I interposes a objection,” intervened the former speaker, and, turning to Vivian, he said, with an assumption of authority--“You’ll be so kind as to put that ’ere piece o’ plate down where you put it jes’ now.”
“Suppose I do not?” rejoined Vivian, sharply, turning his bright eye full upon the speaker, with an expression that savoured very strongly of a disposition to resist. The dirty man did not like the language it spake, but he affected not to be influenced by the threat it conveyed. He answered, temperately yet impressively--
“That is jes’ what I don’t suppose. Look here, young genl’man, you don’t know me--my name’s Jukes!”
It might have been Snooks, or Wiggins, or any other name not down in the category of the young man’s acquaintances or friends. The indifference he displayed on hearing it could not be greater if it had. He so expressed himself, for which Mr. Jukes rewarded him with a stare of astonishment, and whistled. Then he chuckled--
“You’re in luck, you are,” he continued; “but then you are young, you’ll werry likely know me better some day. I’m a sheriff’s officer.”
Certainly the youth recognised the office if he did not the man’s name. A thrill ran through his frame as the fellow hissed the words between his teeth, and a sound like a low wail burst from the lips of old Wilton.
The youth turned towards him, his bosom swelling with the generous impulses natural to his age, and, in tones of earnest sincerity, he exclaimed, “Can I, in any way, aid you, Mr. Wilton?”