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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10566 ***
+
+SHIP'S COMPANY
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+THE BEQUEST
+
+R. Robert Clarkson sat by his fire, smoking thoughtfully. His lifelong
+neighbour and successful rival in love had passed away a few days before,
+and Mr. Clarkson, fresh from the obsequies, sat musing on the fragility
+of man and the inconvenience that sometimes attended his departure.
+
+His meditations were disturbed by a low knocking on the front door, which
+opened on to the street. In response to his invitation it opened slowly,
+and a small middle-aged man of doleful aspect entered softly and closed
+it behind him.
+
+"Evening, Bob," he said, in stricken accents. "I thought I'd just step
+round to see how you was bearing up. Fancy pore old Phipps! Why, I'd
+a'most as soon it had been me. A'most."
+
+Mr. Clarkson nodded.
+
+"Here to-day and gone to-morrow," continued Mr. Smithson, taking a seat.
+"Well, well! So you'll have her at last-pore thing."
+
+"That was his wish," said Mr. Clarkson, in a dull voice.
+
+"And very generous of him too," said Mr. Smithson. "Everybody is saying
+so. Certainly he couldn't take her away with him. How long is it since
+you was both of you courting her?"
+
+"Thirty years come June," replied the other.
+
+"Shows what waiting does, and patience," commented Mr. Smithson. "If
+you'd been like some chaps and gone abroad, where would you have been
+now? Where would have been the reward of your faithful heart?"
+
+Mr. Clarkson, whose pipe had gone out, took a coal from the fire and lit
+it again.
+
+"I can't understand him dying at his age," he said, darkly. "He ought to
+have lived to ninety if he'd been taken care of."
+
+"Well, he's gone, pore chap," said his friend. "What a blessing it must
+ha' been to him in his last moments to think that he had made provision
+for his wife."
+
+"Provision!" exclaimed Mr. Clarkson. "Why he's left her nothing but the
+furniture and fifty pounds insurance money--nothing in the world."
+
+Mr. Smithson fidgeted. "I mean you," he said, staring.
+
+"Oh!" said the other. "Oh, yes--yes, of course."
+
+"And he doesn't want you to eat your heart out in waiting," said Mr.
+Smithson. "'Never mind about me,' he said to her; 'you go and make Bob
+happy.' Wonderful pretty girl she used to be, didn't she?" Mr. Clarkson
+assented.
+
+"And I've no doubt she looks the same to you as ever she did," pursued
+the sentimental Mr. Smithson. "That's the extraordinary part of it."
+
+Mr. Clarkson turned and eyed him; removed the pipe from his mouth, and,
+after hesitating a moment, replaced it with a jerk.
+
+"She says she'd rather be faithful to his memory," continued the
+persevering Mr. Smithson, "but his wishes are her law. She said so to my
+missis only yesterday."
+
+"Still, she ought to be considered," said Mr. Clarkson, shaking his head.
+"I think that somebody ought to put it to her. She has got her feelings,
+poor thing, and, if she would rather not marry again, she oughtn't to be
+compelled to."
+
+"Just what my missis did say to her," said the other; "but she didn't pay
+much attention. She said it was Henry's wish and she didn't care what
+happened to her now he's gone. Besides, if you come to think of it, what
+else is she to do? Don't you worry, Bob; you won't lose her again."
+
+Mr. Clarkson, staring at the fire, mused darkly. For thirty years he had
+played the congenial part of the disappointed admirer but faithful
+friend. He had intended to play it for at least fifty or sixty. He
+wished that he had had the strength of mind to refuse the bequest when
+the late Mr. Phipps first mentioned it, or taken a firmer line over the
+congratulations of his friends. As it was, Little Molton quite
+understood that after thirty years' waiting the faithful heart was to be
+rewarded at last. Public opinion seemed to be that the late Mr. Phipps
+had behaved with extraordinary generosity.
+
+"It's rather late in life for me to begin," said Mr. Clarkson at last.
+
+"Better late than never," said the cheerful Mr. Smithson.
+
+"And something seems to tell me that I ain't long for this world,"
+continued Mr. Clarkson, eyeing him with some disfavour.
+
+"Stuff and nonsense," said Mr. Smithson. "You'll lose all them ideas as
+soon as you're married. You'll have somebody to look after you and help
+you spend your money."
+
+Mr. Clarkson emitted a dismal groan, and clapping his hand over his mouth
+strove to make it pass muster as a yawn. It was evident that the
+malicious Mr. Smithson was deriving considerable pleasure from his
+discomfiture--the pleasure natural to the father of seven over the
+troubles of a comfortable bachelor. Mr. Clarkson, anxious to share his
+troubles with somebody, came to a sudden and malicious determination to
+share them with Mr. Smithson.
+
+"I don't want anybody to help me spend my money," he said, slowly.
+"First and last I've saved a tidy bit. I've got this house, those three
+cottages in Turner's Lane, and pretty near six hundred pounds in the
+bank."
+
+Mr. Smithson's eyes glistened.
+
+"I had thought--it had occurred to me," said Mr. Clarkson, trying to keep
+as near the truth as possible, "to leave my property to a friend o' mine
+--a hard-working man with a large family. However, it's no use talking
+about that now. It's too late."
+
+"Who--who was it?" inquired his friend, trying to keep his voice steady.
+
+Mr. Clarkson shook his head. "It's no good talking about that now,
+George," he said, eyeing him with sly enjoyment. "I shall have to leave
+everything to my wife now. After all, perhaps it does more harm than
+good to leave money to people."
+
+"Rubbish!" said Mr. Smithson, sharply. "Who was it?"
+
+"You, George," said Mr. Clarkson, softly.
+
+"Me?" said the other, with a gasp. "Me?" He jumped up from his chair,
+and, seizing the other's hand, shook it fervently.
+
+"I oughtn't to have told you, George," said Mr. Clarkson, with great
+satisfaction. "It'll only make you miserable. It's just one o' the
+might ha' beens."
+
+Mr. Smithson, with his back to the fire and his hands twisted behind him,
+stood with his eyes fixed in thought.
+
+"It's rather cool of Phipps," he said, after a long silence; "rather
+cool, I think, to go out of the world and just leave his wife to you to
+look after. Some men wouldn't stand it. You're too easy-going, Bob,
+that's what's the matter with you."
+
+Mr. Clarkson sighed.
+
+"And get took advantage of," added his friend.
+
+"It's all very well to talk," said Mr. Clarkson, "but what can I do? I
+ought to have spoke up at the time. It's too late now."
+
+"If I was you," said his friend very earnestly, "and didn't want to marry
+her, I should tell her so. Say what you like it ain't fair to her you
+know. It ain't fair to the pore woman. She'd never forgive you if she
+found it out."
+
+"Everybody's taking it for granted," said the other.
+
+"Let everybody look after their own business," said Mr. Smithson, tartly.
+"Now, look here, Bob; suppose I get you out of this business, how am I to
+be sure you'll leave your property to me?--not that I want it. Suppose
+you altered your will?"
+
+"If you get me out of it, every penny I leave will go to you," said Mr.
+Clarkson, fervently. "I haven't got any relations, and it don't matter
+in the slightest to me who has it after I'm gone."
+
+"As true as you stand there?" demanded the other, eyeing him fixedly.
+
+"As true as I stand here," said Mr. Clarkson, smiting his chest, and
+shook hands again.
+
+Long after his visitor had gone he sat gazing in a brooding fashion at
+the fire. As a single man his wants were few, and he could live on his
+savings; as the husband of Mrs. Phipps he would be compelled to resume
+the work he thought he had dropped for good three years before.
+Moreover, Mrs. Phipps possessed a strength of character that had many
+times caused him to congratulate himself upon her choice of a husband.
+
+Slowly but surely his fetters were made secure. Two days later the widow
+departed to spend six weeks with a sister; but any joy that he might have
+felt over the circumstance was marred by the fact that he had to carry
+her bags down to the railway station and see her off. The key of her
+house was left with him, with strict injunctions to go in and water her
+geraniums every day, while two canaries and a bullfinch had to be removed
+to his own house in order that they might have constant attention and
+company.
+
+"She's doing it on purpose," said Mr. Smithson, fiercely; "she's binding
+you hand and foot."
+
+Mr. Clarkson assented gloomily. "I'm trusting to you, George," he
+remarked.
+
+"How'd it be to forget to water the geraniums and let the birds die
+because they missed her so much?" suggested Mr. Smithson, after
+prolonged thought.
+
+Mr. Clarkson shivered.
+
+"It would be a hint," said his friend.
+
+Mr. Clarkson took some letters from the mantelpiece and held them up.
+"She writes about them every day," he said, briefly, "and I have to
+answer them."
+
+"She--she don't refer to your getting married, I suppose?" said his
+friend, anxiously.
+
+Mr. Clarkson said "No. But her sister does," he added. "I've had two
+letters from her."
+
+Mr. Smithson got up and paced restlessly up and down the room. "That's
+women all over," he said, bitterly. "They never ask for things straight
+out; but they always get 'em in roundabout ways. She can't do it
+herself, so she gets her sister to do it."
+
+Mr. Clarkson groaned. "And her sister is hinting that she can't leave
+the house where she spent so many happy years," he said, "and says what a
+pleasant surprise it would be for Mrs. Phipps if she was to come home and
+find it done up."
+
+"That means you've got to live there when you're married," said his
+friend, solemnly.
+
+Mr. Clarkson glanced round his comfortable room and groaned again. "She
+asked me to get an estimate from Digson," he said, dully. "She knows as
+well as I do her sister hasn't got any money. I wrote to say that it had
+better be left till she comes home, as I might not know what was wanted."
+
+Mr. Smithson nodded approval.
+
+"And Mrs. Phipps wrote herself and thanked me for being so considerate,"
+continued his friend, grimly, "and says that when she comes back we must
+go over the house together and see what wants doing."
+
+Mr. Smithson got up and walked round the room again.
+
+"You never promised to marry her?" he said, stopping suddenly.
+
+"No," said the other. "It's all been arranged for me. I never said a
+word. I couldn't tell Phipps I wouldn't have her with them all standing
+round, and him thinking he was doing me the greatest favour in the
+world."
+
+"Well, she can't name the day unless you ask her," said the other. "All
+you've got to do is to keep quiet and not commit yourself. Be as cool as
+you can, and, just before she comes home, you go off to London on
+business and stay there as long as possible."
+
+Mr. Clarkson carried out his instructions to the letter, and Mrs. Phipps,
+returning home at the end of her visit, learned that he had left for
+London three days before, leaving the geraniums and birds to the care of
+Mr. Smithson. From the hands of that unjust steward she received two
+empty bird-cages, together with a detailed account of the manner in which
+the occupants had effected their escape, and a bullfinch that seemed to
+be suffering from torpid liver. The condition of the geraniums was
+ascribed to worms in the pots, frost, and premature decay.
+
+"They go like it sometimes," said Mr. Smithson, "and when they do nothing
+will save 'em."
+
+Mrs. Phipps thanked him. "It's very kind of you to take so much
+trouble," she said, quietly; "some people would have lost the cages too
+while they were about it."
+
+"I did my best," said Mr. Smithson, in a surly voice.
+
+"I know you did," said Mrs. Phipps, thoughtfully, "and I am sure I am
+much obliged to you. If there is anything of yours I can look after at
+any time I shall be only too pleased. When did you say Mr. Clarkson was
+coming back?"
+
+"He don't know," said Mr. Smithson, promptly. "He might be away a month;
+and then, again, he might be away six. It all depends. You know what
+business is."
+
+"It's very thoughtful of him," said Mrs. Phipps. "Very."
+
+"Thoughtful!" repeated Mr. Smithson.
+
+"He has gone away for a time out of consideration for me," said the
+widow. "As things are, it is a little bit awkward for us to meet much at
+present."
+
+"I don't think he's gone away for that at all," said the other, bluntly.
+
+Mrs. Phipps shook her head. "Ah, you don't know him as well as I do,"
+she said, fondly. "He has gone away on my account, I feel sure."
+
+Mr. Smithson screwed his lips together and remained silent.
+
+"When he feels that it is right and proper for him to come back," pursued
+Mrs. Phipps, turning her eyes upwards, "he will come. He has left his
+comfortable home just for my sake, and I shall not forget it."
+
+Mr. Smithson coughed-a short, dry cough, meant to convey incredulity.
+
+"I shall not do anything to this house till he comes back," said Mrs.
+Phipps. "I expect he would like to have a voice in it. He always used
+to admire it and say how comfortable it was. Well, well, we never know
+what is before us."
+
+Mr. Smithson repeated the substance of the interview to Mr. Clarkson by
+letter, and in the lengthy correspondence that followed kept him posted
+as to the movements of Mrs. Phipps. By dint of warnings and entreaties
+he kept the bridegroom-elect in London for three months. By that time
+Little Molton was beginning to talk.
+
+"They're beginning to see how the land lays," said Mr. Smithson, on the
+evening of his friend's return, "and if you keep quiet and do as I tell
+you she'll begin to see it too. As I said before, she can't name the day
+till you ask her."
+
+Mr. Clarkson agreed, and the following morning, when he called upon Mrs.
+Phipps at her request, his manner was so distant that she attributed it
+to ill-health following business worries and the atmosphere of London.
+In the front parlour Mr. Digson, a small builder and contractor, was busy
+whitewashing.
+
+"I thought we might as well get on with that," said Mrs. Phipps; "there
+is only one way of doing whitewashing, and the room has got to be done.
+To-morrow Mr. Digson will bring up some papers, and, if you'll come
+round, you can help me choose."
+
+Mr. Clarkson hesitated. "Why not choose 'em yourself?" he said at last.
+
+"Just what I told her," said Mr. Digson, stroking his black beard.
+"What'll please you will be sure to please him, I says; and if it don't
+it ought to."
+
+Mr. Clarkson started. "Perhaps you could help her choose," he said,
+sharply.
+
+Mr. Digson came down from his perch. "Just what I said," he replied.
+"If Mrs. Phipps will let me advise her, I'll make this house so she won't
+know it before I've done with it."
+
+"Mr. Digson has been very kind," said Mrs. Phipps, reproachfully.
+
+"Not at all, ma'am," said the builder, softly. "Anything I can do to
+make you happy or comfortable will be a pleasure to me."
+
+Mr. Clarkson started again, and an odd idea sent his blood dancing.
+Digson was a widower; Mrs. Phipps was a widow. Could anything be more
+suitable or desirable?
+
+"Better let him choose," he said. "After all, he ought to be a good
+judge."
+
+Mrs. Phipps, after a faint protest, gave way, and Mr. Digson, smiling
+broadly, mounted his perch again.
+
+Mr. Clarkson's first idea was to consult Mr. Smithson; then he resolved
+to wait upon events. The idea was fantastic to begin with, but, if
+things did take such a satisfactory turn, he could not help reflecting
+that it would not be due to any efforts on the part of Mr. Smithson, and
+he would no longer be under any testamentary obligations to that
+enterprising gentleman.
+
+By the end of a week he was jubilant. A child could have told Mr.
+Digson's intentions--and Mrs. Phipps was anything but a child. Mr.
+Clarkson admitted cheerfully that Mr. Digson was a younger and better-
+looking man than himself--a more suitable match in every way. And, so
+far as he could judge, Mrs. Phipps seemed to think so. At any rate, she
+had ceased to make the faintest allusion to any tie between them. He
+left her one day painting a door, while the attentive Digson guided the
+brush, and walked homewards smiling.
+
+"Morning!" said a voice behind him.
+
+"Morning, Bignell," said Mr. Clarkson.
+
+"When--when is it to be?" inquired his friend, walking beside him.
+
+Mr. Clarkson frowned. "When is what to be?" he demanded, disagreeably.
+
+Mr. Bignell lowered his voice. "You'll lose her if you ain't careful,"
+he said. "Mark my words. Can't you see Digson's little game?"
+
+Mr. Clarkson shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"He's after her money," said the other, with a cautious glance around.
+
+"Money?" said the other, with an astonished laugh. "Why, she hasn't got
+any."
+
+
+[Illustration: "She'll be riding in her carriage and pair in six months"]
+
+
+"Oh, all right," said Mr. Bignell. "You know best of course. I was just
+giving you the tip, but if you know better--why, there's nothing more to
+be said. She'll be riding in her carriage and pair in six months,
+anyhow; the richest woman in Little Molton."
+
+Mr. Clarkson stopped short and eyed him in perplexity.
+
+"Digson got a bit sprung one night and told me," said Mr. Bignell. "She
+don't know it herself yet--uncle on her mother's side in America. She
+might know at any moment."
+
+"But--but how did Digson know?" inquired the astonished Mr. Clarkson.
+
+"He wouldn't tell me," was the reply. "But it's good enough for him.
+What do you think he's after? Her? And mind, don't let on to a soul
+that I told you."
+
+He walked on, leaving Mr. Clarkson standing in a dazed condition in the
+centre of the foot-path. Recovering himself by an effort, he walked
+slowly away, and, after prowling about for some time in an aimless
+fashion, made his way back to Mrs. Phipps's house.
+
+He emerged an hour later an engaged man, with the date of the wedding
+fixed. With jaunty steps he walked round and put up the banns, and then,
+with the air of a man who has completed a successful stroke of business,
+walked homewards.
+
+Little Molton is a small town and news travels fast, but it did not
+travel faster than Mr. Smithson as soon as he had heard it. He burst
+into Mr. Clarkson's room like the proverbial hurricane, and, gasping for
+breath, leaned against the table and pointed at him an incriminating
+finger.
+
+"You you've been running," said Mr. Clarkson, uneasily.
+
+"What--what--what do you--mean by it?" gasped Mr. Smithson. "After all
+my trouble. After our--bargain."
+
+"I altered my mind," said Mr. Clarkson, with dignity.
+
+"Pah!" said the other.
+
+"Just in time," said Mr. Clarkson, speaking rapidly. "Another day and I
+believe I should ha' been too late. It took me pretty near an hour to
+talk her over. Said I'd been neglecting her, and all that sort of thing;
+said that she was beginning to think I didn't want her. As hard a job as
+ever I had in my life."
+
+"But you didn't want her," said the amazed Mr. Smithson. "You told me
+so."
+
+"You misunderstood me," said Mr. Clarkson, coughing. "You jump at
+conclusions."
+
+Mr. Smithson sat staring at him. "I heard," he said at last, with an
+effort... "I heard that Digson was paying her attentions."
+
+Mr. Clarkson spoke without thought. "Ha, he was only after her money,"
+he said, severely. "Good heavens! What's the matter?"
+
+Mr. Smithson, who had sprung to his feet, made no reply, but stood for
+some time incapable of speech.
+
+"What--is--the--matter?" repeated Mr. Clarkson. "Ain't you well?"
+
+Mr. Smithson swayed a little, and sank slowly back into his chair again.
+
+"Room's too hot," said his astonished host.
+
+Mr. Smithson, staring straight before him, nodded.
+
+"As I was saying," resumed Mr. Clarkson, in the low tones of confidence,
+"Digson was after her money. Of course her money don't make any
+difference to me, although, perhaps, I may be able to do something for
+friends like you. It's from an uncle in America on her mother's--"
+
+Mr. Smithson made a strange moaning noise, and, snatching his hat from
+the table, clapped it on his head and made for the door. Mr. Clarkson
+flung his arms around him and dragged him back by main force.
+
+"What are you carrying on like that for?" he demanded. "What do you mean
+by it?"
+
+"Fancy!" returned Mr. Smithson, with intense bitterness. "I thought
+Digson was the biggest fool in the place, and I find I've made a
+mistake. So have you. Good-night."
+
+He opened the door and dashed out. Mr. Clarkson, with a strange sinking
+at his heart, watched him up the road.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bequest, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10566 ***