“I found one of Alfie’s whores drunk in a doorway,” Luther told her. “Soaked with gin and full of tears! Her fancy man had run off with a younger girl. She claims Alfie and Peg have taken off for France!”
“Oh, no!” she said in panic.
Luther nodded. “I’m afraid so. According to the girl, they left on an early morning boat for Calais. They’re probably there now. From Calais they’ll journey to Paris!”
“I’ll go after them and find them!” she insisted.
The tavern owner shook his head. “You’d be wasting your time,” he said. “The Paris underworld is darker than the one here in London. Once those two disappear into it, you’d have had an easier time finding a needle in a haystack. And you can be sure Alfie knows where to market Peg’s body to the best advantage!”
Tears brimmed over in her eyes. “Please don’t talk about it that way!”
“You must face the truth,” Luther said sternly. “Peg has always been the weak one. Girls like her are hypnotized easily by men like Alfie Bard. He’s an old hand at it. You would be better to think of her as dead, for she is now dead to the world.”
“How can I save her?”
“Pray,” the tavern owner said. “Perhaps she’ll come to her senses and escape from him. She’ll have to help herself now. You’ve tried to guide her and failed. Now she is on her own; perhaps she will develop enough character to see Alfie what he really is!”
“I knew he’d have revenge on me,” she said tearfully. “And this is how he managed it.”
“He was probably planning something like this anyway.”
“I worry for Davy,” she said. “He’ll not rest until he harms him in some way also.”
The elderly tavern owner gave her a troubled glance with his one eye and asked, “Are you planning to leave me, now that your sister’s gone?”
“I don’t know what I’ll do,” she said. “I must think. And talk to Davy.”
“Peg wasn’t earning her way,” the tavern keeper said. “I kept her on because of you. You’re the one the customers like. And Mrs. Crown and I care for you as well. As much as if you were our own.”
She was touched by his sudden revelation of his kindly feelings. Normally he was gruff and reticient. It must have taken some effort on his part to speak as he had. She gave him a grateful glance, “I’ll not leave you without some serious thought. But I can’t bear to think of Peg off there in trouble.”
“You’d never be able to find her,” the elderly man said. “And if by accident you did, she’d likely refuse to listen to you!”
It was the bleak truth and she knew it. Peg’s loyalty was not to her—it was to the pimp who had taken her off to Paris. Somehow she got through the day and, when Davy arrived at the bar that night, she took a moment to briefly tell him what had taken place.
Davy was not startled. He said, “I warned you she was thinking of that villain. Now you know I was right.”
“I should have realized it myself.”
“Why?” Davy said with disgust. “You wouldn’t expect her to turn from you to the likes of him!”
“That is true,” she said tautly. “I didn’t expect that.”
She went about her duties that night in a kind of fogged state. Luther showed his consideration by not asking her to sing. She could not have done so even if he’d insisted, but he didn’t. A few people noticed that Peg was absent and mentioned it. Becky said her sister had a minor illness and would return later. This seemed to satisfy them.
Davy had a surprise for her when the tavern closed. He said, “I’ve made an arrangement with Luther to take Peg’s room. I want to be as close to you as possible, in case Alfie tries to strike at you some other way.”
Becky couldn’t help but he relieved to hear the news. It would mean there was someone close by to defend her if trouble should come. And she’d been worried about his walking the long distance to his lodging place every night.
She said, “I’m glad you’ll be close by. Do you think there is anything we can do to locate Peg and that man?”
“Luther is going to try and get some more information,” Davy told her. “If he is successful, we may get Alfie’s Paris address. Then we could at least try to get Peg out of his clutches.”
She cried herself to sleep that night and tried to stifle her sobs in order that Davy in the room next door shouldn’t hear her. When she got up the next morning, he had already left for work at the docks. The wet, miserable day matched Becky’s own frame of mind.
That night Davy brought his belongings to the room and then came to the bar as usual. At the first opportunity she told him, “There’s been no news to help. Luther couldn’t find out anything new.”
Davy sighed. “We’ll have to wait and hope.”
“I’m sick with it all,” she said, near tears. “I don’t know if I can carry on.”
“Giving up won’t help Peg,” the young seaman said. “You must keep yourself in good health to help her. She’ll surely turn to you when she needs you.”
Becky made no reply but went back to work. Davy was in a quiet, troubled mood as he kissed her goodnight at her door. No sooner had her head touched her pillow than she began to cry in the darkness again. She tried to stop and could not help herself.
Then the door slowly opened and Davy, bare to the waist, in his dark trousers, came silently into the room and closed the door after him. He came and sat on her bed and touched his finger to her tear-streaked cheek.
“This cannot go on,” he said gently.
“I’m sorry.”
“You must think of yourself,” he said. “And of us. I’ve stayed on land, Becky, because I want to marry you.”
“Oh, Davy!” she said, caught between joy and sorrow, tears still filling her eyes.
He stroked her hair lovingly. “We will make a world of our own. A world strong enough to hold up against all the other ugliness and cruelties.”
“Davy!” she whispered.
“I need you so!” He said huskily.
And then he was in the bed beside her, holding her in his arms. She vaguely realized he was naked as he pressed his lips fiercely to hers and at the same time carressed her body. He helped her slip off her nightgown so that finally their nude bodies were in full contact.
Her breathing became more rapid, and she knew that the longings she had so often repressed could not be held back now. It was like a floodburst of emotions! He murmured her name in her ear, and then she felt him penetrating her. She gave a small anguished moan which was soon to turn to strong breathing as they frantically moved through the act of love! All other thoughts were vanished from her mind.
It ended in a great feeling of satisfaction and content. She and Davy lay close together long after the actual loving had ended. They fell asleep in each other’s arms. And he woke her to tell her of his love and to kiss her gently again before he left for work at the docks.
She afterwards felt that this initiation to love saved her sanity. It made things clear; she felt she could cope with them. And she knew that soon she and Davy would be married and build that haven of a life together far from the troubles of the everyday world. She did not know whether Mrs. Crown or Luther guessed that Davy had come to comfort her in a physical way. If they did, they gave no hint of it.
For her own part, she did not feel in any way betrayed by his making love to her. They were soon to marry.
She even managed a warm smile for him when he appeared at the bar that night. She whispered, “I’ve thought of you all day.”
He nodded. “And I of you.”
“Forgive me for being such a child,” she said. “But Peg is so dear to me. I think I can face it now and continue until I’m able to help her in some way.”
“That’s more like my Becky,” the seaman said approvingly.
The evening was a busy one, and among the many customers was little Jimmy Davis. The dwarf had learned of Peg’s running away and was in a melancholy frame of mind.
“She should not have done this to, you,” the bearded little man said sadly.
Becky told him, “I’m determined to find her.”
“I pray that you do,” Jimmy said and ordered another whiskey.
In fact he ordered too many whiskies, so he was finally in a sadly drunken state. Davy went over to Becky as she waited for the barman to fill her tray with drinks and told her, “He’s in desperate shape. There’s nothing for it but to help him home. I’ll see to it at once and be back by closing time.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised. “Take care!” She said the last urgently, as she still had fears of Alfie’s revenge.
Closing time came and Davy had not returned. Luther stood by the entrance door of the tavern ready to lock it. He eyed Becky who was waiting there and said, “I have to lock up. It’s time!”
“I know,” she said. “But Davy isn’t back.”
“Maybe he found a card game,” the bar owner suggested. “You know he can’t resist a gamble.”
“I don’t think so,” she said hesitantly. “Jimmy got drunk, and he took him home. He intended to come straight back. That was hours ago.”
Mrs. Crown came up to them with a wise look on her warty face. She said in a kindly tone, “You go to your bed, my dear. It’s not unusual for young men to take a night out on the town now and then. You’ll find he’s all right tomorrow.”
“That’s the truth!” her husband agreed.
“Very well,” she said, not wanting to keep them any longer. But when she reached her room, she did not undress but lay down on the top of the bed to wait. Eventually she dropped asleep and came to only at the sound of a loud knocking on the street door.
By the time she wakened and was on her feet and out to the hallway, a nightgown clad Luther was already on his way to the door with a candle in his hand. Seeing her, he gave her a warning glance.
“Keep back,” he said. “It could be thieves!”
“It may be Davy drunk,” she worried.
“He’d not rouse us this way,” the old man with the candle protested. And nearing the door, he called out, “What do you want? Who is it?”
A faint voice on the other side, said, “Jimmy! It’s me, Jimmy Davis!”
“Jimmy Davis?” Luther turned to give her a questioning look.
“The dwarf,” she said, going to the old man. “The one who drank too much and Davy had to see home!”
With some reluctance Luther Crown drew back the door bolt and threw the door open to the foggy night. A pitiful sight presented itself to them in the figure of a battered Jimmy Davis. The little man’s face was cut in many places, and his clothes looked as if he’d been rolling about in some filthy gutter.
He said, “I’m near dead!” And he stumbled forward almost collapsing.
“I’ll get some brandy,” old Luther said and told her, “You help him into the kitchen.” And with that he hurried ahead, the candle still in his hand.
She gave the dwarf some support and led him down the dark hall. “Davy! Where is Davy?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he moaned.
“What do you mean?” she asked frantically.
“My head! I can’t think!” the little man said as he seemed ready to collapse.
“Don’t give way,” she told him. “Luther will have some brandy for you in a moment.” And she helped him into the kitchen. He sat on the stone shelf before the fireplace.
Luther brought him the brandy and put it in his little hand. “Drink it down, it will help you!” he instructed the dwarf.
Little Jimmy gobbled the drink down and then coughed loudly for a second or two. Then he moaned and held his big head in his tiny hands. “They came at us in the darkness,” he moaned.
“Who?” Becky demanded.
He looked up at her with his woeful, bruised face and said, “I don’t know! I was the worse for drink!”
“Where were you attacked?” the bar owner asked.
“Just a block form the tavern,” the dwarf said. “They came out of an alley. There must have been four of them!”
Becky gave Luther Crown an anguished look. “I knew Alfie Bard would get even somehow!”
Luther gave her a motion to be silent and asked the dwarf, “What happened?”
“Davy put up a good fight and I did what I could,” the little man said unhappily. “One of them picked me up and threw me in the alley like an old sack!”
“What about Davy?” she asked.
“He was still fighting them and doing a good job when I passed out,” Jimmy Davis said.
“And when you came to?” Luther questioned.
“Just a while ago. The street was silent. No sign of them or Davy or anyone! I was afraid to go any further, so I came back here.”
She told Luther, “Davy wouldn’t have deserted him if he were all right!”
“Don’t think the worst,” Luther implored her. And he asked the dwarf, “Do you remember anything else about them? Did they say anthing you overheard?”
“I’m not sure,” the dwarf worried. “I was awful drunk. But I thought one of them said to me, ‘He won’t do for for Australia!’ And then he laughed and picked me up and threw me in the alley!”
“Do you think any bones were broken?” Luther asked.
“No. But my head is in pain, and I need to rest,” the dwarf said. “And my mother and sisters are bound to be worried about me!”
“They’ll have to wait until morning. You can go back to them after daylight,” Luther said.
“I’ll have to go to work then,” the little man worried. “I’ll send them a message from work.”
“You won’t be fit to work,” she chided him.
The little man gazed up at her gloomily. “When you’re employed by Gregg & Kerr, you report for work, or you don’t have a job!”
Luther said, “You’d better rest in the room that Davy has rented. I’ll wake you early in the morning.”
So it was arranged. She spent a sleepless night worrying that Davy might be dead, murdered by the thugs at the order of Alfie Bard. Perhaps his body was dropped in the river or was hidden in some alley. She prayed it might be only that he was too injured to get word to her, that someone might have found him and taken him home or to one of the hospitals.
In the morning Luther Crown went out early to try and get word of the missing Davy. Little Jimmy, still in a sad state, limped off to work at the shipyard. At Luther’s request she remained waiting in the house with Mrs. Crown.
It was a long, worrisome two hours before a gaunt-faced Luther Crown returned. He confronted her in the kitchen, saying, “I’ve found out what happened to poor Davy.”