Ringleader

“ In Flanders Lane they pointed to the ears that stood away from the head, and hugged themselves with unholy joy when they related, one to the other, the queer gift of a man whose will commanded even the muscles that in ordinary mortals had no control over those appendages. There was nobody like the Ringer—nobody in the world. Sympathy was general in Flanders Lane. He had half-killed a "screw" and had "done" a snout—but who loves a prison guard or a sneaking police spy? Certainly no Laner. They would have turned out to a man and a woman in his defence—it would have been an honour to die for him. ”

“ It was a few minutes before the call came through, and when Alan took the receiver and heard the oleaginous voice of the man at the other end, he realized that courage had returned, and wondered how big a price the man had paid for that jauntiness of speech.
"Yes, it's Wembury talking. I've had a cable from the Australian police saying that the Ringer is not in England. That may be true, and yet there is the chance that he has sent one of his crowd to deputize for him, sothe precautions will continue. I want you to phone me every hour." ”

“ The police know: they've got seven busies looking for him. And Wembury knows: I've had that straight!"
Meister sat down suddenly in his chair.
"They'll never find him!" he groaned. "She was right."
"Mrs. Milton is here."
"I know—I know!"
He put a hand in his pocket and, taking out a bundle of Treasury notes, skinned three and threw them across the table.
"Watch for him, Peter," he said, his voice shaking. "You're not afraid of the Ringer, are you?"
Peter was afraid of him—terribly afraid of him; for Peter moved in a world in which the Ringer's name was like that of an avenging god. ”

“ He is nothing. But you and I are men that have real power. Yet there is a truth that you and I can confess to each other. Men's hearts grow quickly discontented. Listen. The leaders of men are carried forward in the hands of their followers; and common men's minds are unsteady, their desires changeable, and their thoughts not to be trusted. You are a great chief they say. Do not forget that I am a chief, too, and a leader of armed men."
"I have heard of you, too," said Lingard in a composed voice. ”

“ Meister gaped at her.
"Heard about him, have you?" he said dully. "I suppose you have—you couldn't come in and out of Flanders Lane without hearing of the—The Ringer. I wonder somebody doesn't write a story about him."
He was trying hard to be composed and flippant, but the strain was visible.
"Why shouldn't they! He's a picturesque criminal, isn't he? The only man in the world who can disguise himself so that the proverbial mother wouldn't know him—just like a man out of a book! God! ”

“ As for Ringfield, a great anger and distress filled his mind. What spasm of reform had animated this fallen, worthless creature to create an impression which could not, in the nature of things, lead to systematic rehabilitation? To ape the garb of worthy men, to stand thus, tricked out in the dress of a remote civilization from which he had thrust himself forever, before the woman he perhaps had wronged, and with so easy and disdainful a bearing, seemed to Ringfield the summit of senseless folly and contemptible weakness. ”

“ This rambling speech was received at first in silence, then Ringfield spoke, his slow utterances affording a contrast to the half-jocular, half-querulous words of the ex-guide.
"That word reasonable! Be reasonable! You—you ask me to be reasonable! As if I were at fault, as if I were doing her the injury! God knows I have my own battle to fight, my own self to overcome, but that is beside the question. Do you see nothing unreasonable in your own relation to—to Miss Clairville? When I came here—and God knows I'm sorry at times I ever came or stayed—I met Miss Clairville. ”

“ THE RINGLET. 'Your ringlets, your ringlets, That look so golden-gay, If you will give me one, but one, To kiss it night and day, Then never chilling touch of Time Will turn it silver-gray; And then shall I know it is all true gold To flame and sparkle and stream as of old, Till all the comets in heaven are cold, And all her stars decay.' 'Then take it, love, and put it by; This cannot change, nor yet can I.' 2. 'My ringlet, my ringlet, That art so golden-gay, Now never chilling touch of Time Can turn thee silver-gray; And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint, And a fool may say his say ”

“ The doctor was afraid for his horse; one ear was cut and bleeding and the animal could no longer face the blinding streams of hail; he was covered and the men all got out, burying their heads in their coats; but Ringfield, the worst off, since he had come without gloves or muffler, was for ever casting anxious glances ahead, which Poussette and the doctor understood.
"I bette you!" cried the former; "Mr. Ringfield, sir, the curé—he don't know what to do with Miss Clairville. He'll never get her home, sure. He's no good with a horse—my horse too—I guess we better go after him, eh?" ”

“ All London knew it. Flanders Lane whispered the news under its breath; carried the tidings to sick men hiding in darkened and foul attics; to men who were not sick but must needs be hidden. And Flanders Lane believed it. The Ringer was back. "God help Meister," said somebody.
They discussed it in low tones, squatting on their steps despite the drizzle.
"He'll use a knife; he always uses a knife. Never known him to use a gun in my life," said one who had the proud distinction of having worked in a minor capacity with the redoubtable criminal.
"What's Haggitt doing down there?" ”

“ He is human, therefore a soul to be saved, as one of God's creatures, but whether the man can be reinstated in society is a doubtful matter. You are right to defend him, and I am sad only when I grudge you those memories of him. You knew him then so very well?"
She understood the pleading tone and she endeavoured to be candid, but how explain certain things to a man of Ringfield's calibre? To another, a glance, a smile, the inflection of a word, of a syllable, and all would be clear. ”

“ In crowds, or balls, or elsewhere, the wearer of such a ring could exercise his secret revenge by the slightest scratch, in pressing the hand of the doomed person, who would next day be found, perhaps, in bed dead, no one knew why or how. ”

“ Ringfield saw and heard him fall, but he was already out of the shack and speeding through the forest paths; dim arcades of larch and pine met over his head while upon the river and the great Fall were stealing long bars of bright silvery light from the level sun. Soon the silver would mellow to gold as the daily marvel of the sunset was accomplished, but Ringfield was beyond such matters now. Nature could do no more for him in this crisis than it had done for Edmund Crabbe, and the virginity, the silence and fragrance of the noble wood, brought him no solace. ”

“ When he thought it was quite safe, Ringfield shook himself free from the hay and straw that encumbered him, and prepared to descend the ladder, but he had scarcely enjoyed the luxury of stretching his long limbs (for he could not stand upright in the loft) when he heard footsteps approaching, and looking down, he perceived Father Rielle enter the barn, lantern in hand, and with thin, high-nosed, sour countenance depicting intense surprise, eagerly explore the place for Pauline. Ringfield held his breath, but had enough sense to lie down again in the straw, and feign slumber ”

“ In that moment Ringfield realized what Miss Clairville had become to him. No one can bear to hear his love traduced, and he believed that in his cups this villain, Crabbe, was lying. They faced each other and Ringfield was not the cooler nor the saner of the two.
"Pauline! Miss Clairville! What can she be to you? Hanger on of womanly footsteps," burst from him, scarcely knowing what words formed in his brain and emptied themselves upon the darkening air of the cabin. ”

“ Would it be her lot to teach a good man subtlety? Should she tell the truth? She had not long to wait or think about it, for in five minutes Ringfield was knocking at her door. Nothing subtle as yet looked forth from his earnest eyes, and the grasp with which he took and held her hand was that of the pastor rather than that of the lover, but the night was dark and heavily warm, and although there were stars in the sky he did not look at them. ”

“ Ring instantly took the skin and burned it, and then shook the Prince, who was lying unconscious, until he woke up. The bridegroom then asked his name; he replied that he was called Ring, and was a King’s son. In his youth he had lost his mother, and in her place his father had married a witch, who had laid a spell on him that he should turn into a dog, and never be released from the spell unless a Prince of the same name as himself allowed him to sleep at his feet the first night after his marriage. ”

“ I say again that, if the ring has fallen low, it is not in the main the fault of the men who have done the fighting, but it lies at the door of the vile crew of ring-side parasites and ruffians, who are as far below the honest pugilist as the welsher and the blackleg are below the noble racehorse which serves them as a pretext for their villainies. ”

“ Other men have tried it, and where are they now? Where is Bill Palmer? Where is Lew Morley, who was going to do this and that to me? Where is the Ringer—"
"In London," snapped the other, and Meister reeled back.
"That's a lie!" he breathed.
"Here in London!" Lenley's fist came down on the table. "Meister, you know it—I can see the proof in your face!"
Frozen with horror, the lawyer could only lick his lips, the white lips that moved without sound.
"It's a lie," he said at last in a strangled voice. "The Ringer is in Australia—he wouldn't dare show his face in London! ”

“ A chief rushes into the ring with a wild shriek and a ferocious look, with creese in one hand and spear in the other; he traverses the ground, leaping from one side of the ring to the other, and, in a menacing posture, bids defiance to some fancied enemy; then he stamps his feet upon the ground and shakes his head, distorts his features, and makes his teeth chatter again; then he throws his lance, and with his creese hacks and hews at the airy enemy, shrieking all the time. ”

“ You see only the outside. But I suppose I must tell you who we are. This is my brother, my only brother, in fact my only living relative, Henry Clairville. I am Miss—Mademoiselle Clairville."
Ringfield bowed to her and to the man in the chair.
"We are the last of what—of what it pleases him to call our Line. It is all most foolish, most absurd. But I cannot tell you here. Since chance has brought you our way again, and as you may take up your residence in the neighbourhood—have you decided yet?—I feel I must make some explanation of how you find us, my brother and myself. Can you row? ”

“ Don't you write poetry? You don't? Oh! I remember now. You're the parson. Want to convert me, want to reform me, eh, Ringfield? You write something better than poetry—sermons. Look here—Ringfield—did you know I was intended for the Church myself at one time? I was. Honour bright—before I came out to this blasted country—excuse freedom of speech—before I knew you, and before I met Henry Clairville and Pauline. ”

“ As one progressed the other retrograded; the Englishman, dreaming of a good name and character restored, lay peacefully beneath Poussette's roof, not worrying about Pauline, for he knew that, short of the marriage ceremony, he had the strongest right and authority any man could have over her; while Ringfield, distrusting and suspecting every one around him, tossed and sighed all night, wondering what stability there was in her mind and what worth he might set upon her promises. ”

“ And do tenderly by thy son-in-law, whom thou makest thy Wazir of the Right.” He replied, “Hearing and obeying, O my daughter. But do thou give me the ring or give it to thy husband.” Quoth she, “It behoveth not that either thou or he have the ring. I will keep the ring myself, and belike I shall be more careful of it than you. Whatso ye wish seek it of me and I will demand it for you of the Slave of the Seal-ring. So fear no harm so long as I live and after my death, do what ye twain will with the ring.” ”

“ Linden; "though it is hard to say how such an extreme proposition would work."
"Do you know, it strikes me that it would work just the other way, and that hands would presently clasp nothing but daggers' hilts. But there is another question.—How will one fair hand of truth live among a crowd of steel gauntlets?"
"What?" Mr. Linden said, with a little bending of his brows upon the doctor. "I am wearing neither glove nor gauntlet,—what are you talking about?—And my half-finished letter is a fact and no pretence." ”

“ Ringfield, ashamed and bitter, stood and watched this sad scene with folded arms and tightly drawn mouth. Was it true? Was this his work? This dishevelled, staring-eyed, sodden, incoherent creature, shrewdly wise in his cups, had taken the place of the elegant and easy English gentleman, the educated Oxford man, dabbler in high-class verse and prospective happy bridegroom, and what woman would care to have his arm around her now? ”

“ Ignorant of these cloudy and strenuous careers, Ringfield saw only an impulsive and unhappy woman old enough to fascinate him by her unusual command of language and imperiousness of conduct, and young enough for warm ripe brunette beauty. To be plain, first love was already working in him, but he did not recognize its signs and portents; he only knew that an ardent wish to remain at St. Ignace had suddenly taken the place of the tolerant and amused disdain with which he had once considered Poussette's offer. ”