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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Sir," said he, "for weal or woe, in shadow or shine, the hand of a Smivvle, once given, is given for good." As he spoke, Mr. Smivvle stretched out the member in question, which Barnabas observed was none too clean. "The hand of a Smivvle, sir," pursued that gentleman, "the hand of a Smivvle is never withdrawn either on account of adversity, plague, poverty, pestilence, or Jews dammem!
I I won't have my private affairs discussed by s-strangers, no, by heaven!" "Now, Barry," exclaimed Mr. Smivvle, "do be calm, Mr. Beverley only wants to help you er that is, in a friendly way, of course, and I 'm sure " "Damn his help! I'd rather die in the g-gutter than ask help or charity of any one." "Yes, yes of course, my dear fellow!
"Risk it, Dick." But now, Mr. Smivvle, who from an adjoining corner had been an interested spectator thus far, emerged, and flourishing off the curly-brimmed hat, bowed profoundly, and addressed himself to the Viscount. "I believe," said he, smiling affably, "that I have the pleasure to behold Viscount Devenham?" "The same, sir," rejoined the Viscount, bowing stiffly.
Smivvle," said he, "it is a far better thing to take the hand of an honorable man and a loyal gentleman than to kiss the fingers of a prince. This money belonged to your dead friend, let it be an inheritance from him.
Smivvle; "yes, sir, regular out-and-outer, a Bang up! by heaven, a Blood, sir! a Tippy! a Go! a regular Dash! High, sir, high, damned high, like my friend Barrymaine, indeed, you may have remarked a similarity between 'em, sir?" "You forget, I have never met your friend," said Barnabas. "Ah, to be sure, a great pity!
"This," said Barnabas, taking up his unfinished letter to the Viscount "if you've finished, we may as well destroy it," and forthwith he crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the empty fireplace. "Sir!" exclaimed Mr. Smivvle, louder than before, "'pon my soul, now, if you mean to insinuate " Here he paused, staring at Barnabas, and with his whiskers fiercer than ever.
This way, my dear fellow!" and turning into Cross Street, up towards Leather Lane, Mr. Smivvle halted at a certain dingy door, opened it, and showed Barnabas into a dingier hall, and so, leading the way up the dingiest stairs in the world, eventually ushered him into a fair-sized, though dingy, room; and being entered, immediately stood upon tip-toe and laid a finger on his lips.
That's the accursed part of it pay, pay! debt on debt, and n-nothing to pay with. All swallowed up by that merciless bloodsucker that " "Now, Barry!" Mr. Smivvle expostulated, "my dear boy " "He's a cursed v-vampire, I tell you!" retorted Barrymaine, his pale cheeks suddenly flushed, and his dark eyes flashing in swift passion, "he's a snake." "Now, my dear fellow, calm yourself." "Calm myself.
And, amidst it all, of it all, came Barnabas, eager-eyed, forgetful of his companion, lost to all but the stir and bustle, the rush and roar of the wonderful city about him. The which Mr. Smivvle duly remarked from under the curly-brimmed hat, but was uncommonly silent.
Thus, between them, they bore Ronald Barrymaine downstairs and, having made him as comfortable as might be in the inner room, left him to the care of the faithful Mr. Smivvle. Then Barnabas crossed to the narrow window and stood there a while, looking down at the dim figures of the Bow Street Runners who still lounged against the wall in the gathering dusk and talked together in gruff murmurs.
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