The Edge of the Crowd. Ross Gilfillan

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘A farmer might give you a few shillings. That’s no sporting dog.’

      Saggers’ voice falls to a low whisper. ‘Don’t make a fool of me, Ratcliffe. I must get staked. There’s money here tonight, I can smell it!’

      ‘Then sniff it out, by all means,’ says Ratcliffe, turning away. ‘Just keep your nose out of my pockets.’

      Saggers forces a smile but his brow appears to record the passing of darker thoughts. His eyes roam about the room but his gaze is unmet. A man whose attention is engaged before he can avert his eyes, listens to whispers and shakes his head. Saggers raises his voice. ‘What? Only five shillings, Bob? And my firm promise that you’ll have six on Saturday next? This ain’t worthy of you, Bob!’

      ‘Mr Willum, you know I’d never refuse you. But my last tanner went on that dog and I’ll go wivart my lunch tomorrow.’ Saggers grunts and watches blankly as a new dog sets about his rats. The small carcases are being dropped into a sack when Saggers seizes the boy Daniel and grips him by the neck. ‘This is your fault, Dan’l, you’ve brought me to this! What’s a betting man without his capital?’

      Hilditch follows the altercation between father and son with interest. He is fascinated by this Saggers, who is clearly a pivotal figure in this alien world and may even, Hilditch thinks, provide him with some vital intelligence. It does not seem unlikely. Just as Hilditch himself has been identified instantly as a stranger, so too would a well-spoken and striking woman appearing suddenly in these parts. It is this woman whose memory has drawn him after her, into the East End of London, and she who impels him into such strange places as this. Engrossed in such thoughts, Hilditch fails to notice that Saggers’ eyes are fixed upon him.

      ‘Well, stranger! Dan’l says you’ve come a long way to see the fancy tonight. But you’ve yet to make a wager?’

      Hilditch is non-committal and only shrugs, in the French fashion.

      Saggers says, ‘Well, if you’re new to the fancy you’re wise to watch how it goes first. A man needs to know what he’s doing. And know something about dogs, too, eh?’

      He leans over his chair and lowers his voice. ‘Lucky for you, I’m the ’knowledged expert on matters of a canine nature. Ain’t that so, Ned?’

      ‘’E’s that, all right,’ says a man in a garish waistcoat.

      ‘What I propose,’ Saggers confides, ‘is that I larns you something about the fancy, in return for a small consideration. Through the fault of others, I find myself short. But a gent like you would hardly come out without his tin, eh? Now, to begin, shall we stake five shilling?’

      ‘No, I think not,’ Hilditch replies.

      ‘Three, then? Or a round half crown?’ Hilditch shakes his head and Saggers frowns. ‘I knows my dogs, I tell you. And if we don’t win I don’t take my consideration. How much fairer can a man be? Give me a shilling and I’ll lay it down.’

      ‘No, I really think not,’ Hilditch says and turns away. He affects to observe the spectators about the pit, who have resumed their drinking and chatter and are, Hilditch thinks, at least as interesting as the spectacle in the pit. Now that the arena is being cleared once more of dead rats, those gathered about it are talking loudly. Nattily dressed salesmen puff cigars at the side of costermongers who pull on yellow-stemmed pipes and expectorate into the pit. Other fanciers point at dogs in the glass cases, shaking their heads with the gravitas of Oxford dons. One or two nearby have been paying heed to the exchange between the stranger and Saggers, whose brow now furrows as his head inclines quizzically.

      ‘Am I mistaken?’ he says, loudly enough for all about to hear should they so wish. Saggers addresses himself to the ceiling. ‘Am I under a mishapprehension?’ He peers directly into the dark glass of Hilditch’s spectacles. ‘You is here to enjoy our ’umble entertainment, isn’t you?’

      Saggers snatches at Daniel who has remained at his side and pulls him closer. ‘Dan’l! The gent is here to bet, ain’t he?’

      Daniel looks about himself, to the door, but interested crowds have stopped up the way of escape. ‘No, he an’t here to bet.’

      ‘Not here to bet?’ announces Saggers, astounded. And then claps his hand to his forehead. ‘Hang me for a fool! O’course, that’s it, he’s here to buy, then!’

      ‘No, he don’t want a dog neither.’

      ‘What, then, Dan’l?’ says Saggers.

      ‘He said he just wanted to watch.’

      Saggers makes his eyes bulge in mock-astonishment but real annoyance prevents further mummery and he booms out, ‘To hob-serve? What’s the good of that? Who is he, Dan’l? Is he a spy, a Customs sneak maybe?’

      Eyes swivel to Hilditch like so many great guns. ‘We don’t turn away strangers here, sir,’ Saggers says. ‘We welcomes ’em, takes ’em into our fold. We treats a stranger like our own, so long as they loves the entertainment we provides. And you don’t give the appearance of doing that, sir! P’raps you’ll explain yourself?’

      To those across the pit the stranger appears composed but some who stand closer may observe the sheen upon his lip.

      ‘I’m not a sporting man. I only want to see what goes on here.’

      Saggers pauses, weighs up the answer like an Assize judge after a heavy lunch.

      ‘What kind of cove are you, sir? What doesn’t get involved?’

      ‘I only want to be a spectator,’ says Hilditch. ‘I get no pleasure from gambling. I wish only to stand here quietly and watch. But, if that is not permissible, then I will go.’

      ‘No, no, you interest me, sir, and you shall stay,’ Saggers says. ‘I would like to know what kind of a man is it that can keep isself separate from all others though he stands beside ’em and accepts their ’ospitality.’

      ‘I have no wish to insult you,’ says Hilditch. ‘You will forgive me if I seem impolite.’

      ‘You’re like the missionaries and the meddlers that come about us, all wanting something for nothing.’ He shakes his head as he scrutinises the novelty before him. ‘What a pale and lifeless thing you are! Do you have no blood in you? Can’t you afford no meat? I can hear you’ve an education. A man can go far with one o’ them, they say. But it seems he can’t get fat!’

      William Saggers slaps his own ample haunches, and looks about for the endorsement of the crowd.

      ‘If you will excuse me, now,’ Hilditch begins, but Saggers holds him back.

      ‘I think you care for nothing, sir. I think you are a cold creetur that can worm its way in anywhere, observe and go away again.’ He turns again to the silent crowd and receives nods and murmurs of assent before he starts to address Hilditch again. ‘Maybe I’ve seen you at a hanging? We’ve all observed at hangings, ain’t we, mates? But we ain’t like fish watching wi’out blinking as some cove dies. We cheers if he’s a bad ’un or we cries if he’s a pal. But we gets involved, that’s for sartain.’

      Hilditch, pale as candlewax, fights to keep control of his trembling voice. ‘I don’t have a lot of money, but СКАЧАТЬ