Charles Palliser by The Quincunx

Author:The Quincunx [Quincunx, The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-11-09T00:24:46+00:00

in silk dresses that rose behind them like glittering wings, living in a carcase and battening on its rich rotting meat. And in the middle Barney, with his big face and long arms, was like a great blotchy red spider spinning invisible nets from his entrails and hauling in more prey for the others to feed on.

I woke up feeling (in Mr Isbister’s phrase) as if I had two heads. finding that my pockets had indeed been thoroughly searched I resolved that, despite the plentiful supply of food, I would leave as soon as I felt stronger.

I didn’t believe that Barney would give me something for nothing. My experience of the Isbisters had taught me that. In that case, why had he taken me in and imposed me on the gang despite opposition? And what was the significance of Jack’s connexion with Pulvertaft? Now that I considered it, I realized that the coincidence of my recognising both Pulvertaft and Jack was extremely puzzling, even though I knew from what old Sam’el had told me and then what I had heard from Isbister, that all of these men had worked together many years before.

And above all, what was the explanation for the way these people lived? Where did their money come from and why were they living here like this? Perhaps listening to their conversation would provide me with the answer to at least this last question.

This strategy turned out to be difficult when I began to practise it later that day. At first, when I saw them looking as if they were engaged in serious conversation and approached as inconspicuously as I could, they fell silent or quickly turned the subject or ordered me to “Hook it!”. However, as the day wore on they grew more used to my presence, and I was sometimes able to stay within ear-shot. I was very puzzled by what I could understand of their speech — they used so much cant that it was often incomprehensible — for they seemed to be discussing a straightforward commercial business. They talked a great deal of things being bought and sold in the way of business, of people being bent or straight, and of a share of the profits being sent to someone who had gone abroad.

There was a great deal of coming and going throughout the day with hackney-coaches arriving and vans bringing goods of the most luxurious quality from shops in Oxford-street and Bond-street.

Once I heard Nan recounting an adventure in one of these grand places: “Didn’t the shop-man stare when he seen my purse full of gold!” she exclaimed. “I’ll wager he thought the paper was screens.”

And my bewilderment was as great as the shop-man’s.

All this time I was studying my new companions. The man-like woman was Carrotty Poll who was good to me in a rough way, so long as she was sober. Two others — who were apparently sisters and were called “Smithfield” and “Billingsgate” — I learned to avoid, drunk or sober.

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