spacious hall was shrouded in dust-sheets, packages were stacked everywhere, bound and labelled as for a journey; it looked like a wholesale flitting. Then from the landing I heard a female voice, shrill and puzzled, and the nigger butler came shambling into view, followed by a stately figure that I knew well, clad in a fine embroidered silk dressing-gown.
As always, she was garnished like Pompadour, her hennaed hair piled high above that plump handsome face, jewels glistening in her ears and at her wrists and on that splendid bosom that I remembered so fondly; even in my anxious state, it did me good just to watch ’em bounce as she swayed down the stairs – as usual in the evening, she plainly had a pint or two of port inside her. She descended grand as a duchess, peering towards us in the hall’s dim light, and then she checked with a sudden scream of ‘Beauchamp!’ and came hurrying down the last few steps and across the hall, her face alight.
‘Beauchamp! You’ve come back! Well, I never! Wherever ’ave you been, you rascal! I declare – let’s ’ave a look at you!’
For a moment I was taken aback, until I recalled that she knew me as Beauchamp Millward Comber – God knew how many names I’d passed under in America: Arnold, Prescott, Fitz-something-or-other. But at least she was glad to see me, glowing like Soul’s Awakening and holding out her hands; I believe I’d have been enveloped if she hadn’t checked modestly at the sight of Spring, who was bowing stiffly from the waist with his hat across his guts.
‘Susie,’ says I, ‘this is my … my friend, Captain John Charity Spring.’
‘Ow, indeed,’ says she, and beamed at him, up and down, and blow me if he didn’t take her hand and bow over it. ‘Most honoured to make your acquaintance, marm,’ says he. ‘Your humble obedient.’
‘I never!’ says Susie, and gave him a roving look. ‘A distinguished pleasure, I’m sure. Oh, stuff, Beauchamp – d’you think I’m goin’ to do the polite with you, too? Come ’ere, an’ give us a kiss!’
Which I did, and a hearty slobber she made of it, while Spring looked on, wearing what for him passed as an indulgent smile. ‘An’ wherever ’ave you been, then? – I thought you was back in England months ago, an’ me wishin’ I was there an’ all! Now, come up, both of you, an’ tell me wot brings you back – my, I almost ’ad apoplexy, seeing you sudden like that …’ And then she stopped, uncertain, and the laughter went out of her fine green eyes, as she looked quickly from one to other of us. She might be soft where well-set-up men were concerned, but she was no fool, and had a nose for mischief that a peeler would have envied.
‘Wot’s the matter?’ she said sharply. Then: ‘It’s trouble – am I right?’
‘Susie,’ says I, ‘it’s as bad as can be.’
She said nothing for a moment, and when she did it was to tell the butler, Brutus, to bar the door and admit no one without her leave. Then she led the way up to her private room and asked me, quite composed, what was up.
It was only when I began to tell it that the enormity of what I was saying, and the risk I was running in saying it, came home to me. I confined it to the events of that day, saying nothing of my own adventures since I’d last seen her – all she had known of me then was that I was an Englishman running from the Yankee Navy, a yarn I’d spun on the spur of the moment. As I talked, she sat upright on her chair in the silk-hung salon, her jolly, handsome face serious for once, and Spring was mum beside me on the couch, holding his hat on his knees, prim as a banker, although I could feel the crouched force in him. I prayed Susie would play up, because God knew what the lunatic would do if she decided to shop us. I needn’t have worried; when I’d done, she sat for a moment, fingering the tassels on her gaudy bedgown, and then says:
‘No one knows you’re ’ere? Well, then, we can take our time, an’ not do anythin’ sudden or stupid.’ She took a long thoughtful look at Spring. ‘You’re Spring the slaver, aren’t you?’ Oh, Moses, I thought, that’s torn it, but he said he was, and she nodded.
‘I’ve bought some of your Havana fancies,’ says she. ‘Prime gels, good quality.’ Then she rang for her butler, and ordered up food and wine, and in the silence that followed Spring suddenly spoke up.
‘Madam,’ says he, ‘our fate is in your hands,’ which seemed damned obvious to me, but Susie just nodded again and sat back, toying with her long earring.
‘An’ you say it was self-defence? ’E barred your way, an’ there was a ruckus, an’ ’e drew a pistol on you?’ Spring said that was it exactly, and she pulled a face.
‘Much good that’d do you in court. I daresay ’is pals would tell a different tale … if they’re anythin’ like ’e was. Oh, I’ve ’ad ’im ’ere, this Omo’undro, but not above once, I can tell you. Nasty brute.’ She wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘What they call a floggin’ cully – not that ’e was alone in that, but ’e was a real vile ’un, know wot I mean? Near killed one o’ my gels, an’ I showed him the door. So I shan’t weep for ’im. An’ if it was ’ow you say it was – an’ I’ll know that inside the hour, though I believe you – then you can stay ’ere till the row dies down, or—’ and she seemed to glance quickly at me, and I’ll swear she went a shade pinker ‘—we can think o’ somethin’ else. There’s only me an’ the gels and the servants, so all’s bowmon. We don’t ’ave no customers these days.’
At that moment Brutus brought in a tray, and Susie went to see rooms prepared for us. When we were alone Spring slapped his fist in triumph and made for the victuals.
‘Safe as the Bank. We could not have fallen better.’
Well, I thought so, too, but I couldn’t see why he was so sure and trusting, and said so; after all, he didn’t know her.
‘Do I not?’ scoffs he. ‘As to trust, she’ll be no better than any other tearsheet – we notice she don’t bilk at abetting manslaughter when it suits her whim. No, Flashman – I see our security in that full lip and gooseberry eye, which tell me she’s a sensualist, a voluptuary, a profligate wanton,’ growls he, tearing a chicken leg in his teeth, ‘a great licentious fleshtrap! That’s why I’ll sleep sound – and you won’t.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘She can’t betray me without betraying you, blockhead!’ He grinned at me savagely. ‘And we know she won’t do that, don’t we? What – she never took her eyes off you! She’s infatuated, the poor bitch. I supposed you stallioned her out of her wits last time. Aye, well, you’d best fortify yourself, for soevit amor ferri,fn2 or I’m no judge; the lady is working up an appetite this minute, and for our safety’s sake you’d best satisfy it.’
Well, I knew that, but if I hadn’t, our hostess’s behaviour might have given me a hint, just. When she came back, having plainly repainted, she was flushed and breathless, which I guessed was the result of having laced herself into a fancy corset under the gown – that told me what was on her mind, all right; I knew her style. It was in her restless eye, too, and the cheerful way she chattered when she obviously couldn’t wait to be alone with me. Spring presently begged to be excused, and bowed solemnly over her hand again, thanking her for her kindness and loyalty to two distressed fellow-countrymen; when Brutus had led him off, Susie remarked that he was a real gent and a regular caution, but there was something hard and spooky about him that made her all a-tremble.
‘But then, I can say the exact same about you, lovey, can’t I?’ she chuckled, and plunged at me, with one hand in my curls and the other fondling elsewhere. ‘Ooh, my stars! Give it here! Ah, you ’aven’t changed, ’ave you – an’, oh, but I’ve missed you so, you great lovely villain!’ Shrinking little violet, you see; she munched away at my lips with that big red mouth, panting names in my ear that I blush to think of; it made me feel right at home, though, the artful way she got every stitch off me without apparently taking her tongue out of my throat once. I’ve known greater beauties, and a few that were just as partial to pork, but none more skilled at stoking what Arnold called the deadly fires