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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10570 ***
+
+SHIP'S COMPANY
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+FOR BETTER OR WORSE
+
+
+Mr. George Wotton, gently pushing the swing doors of the public bar of
+the "King's Head" an inch apart, applied an eye to the aperture, in the
+hope of discovering a moneyed friend.  His gaze fell on the only man in
+the bar a greybeard of sixty whose weather-beaten face and rough clothing
+spoke of the sea.  With a faint sigh he widened the opening and passed
+through.
+
+"Mornin', Ben," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
+
+"Have a drop with me," said the other, heartily.  "Got any money about
+you?"
+
+Mr. Wotton shook his head and his face fell, clearing somewhat as the
+other handed him his mug.  "Drink it all up, George," he said.
+
+His friend complied.  A more tactful man might have taken longer over the
+job, but Mr. Benjamin Davis, who appeared to be labouring under some
+strong excitement, took no notice.
+
+"I've had a shock, George," he said, regarding the other steadily.  "I've
+heard news of my old woman."
+
+"Didn't know you 'ad one," said Mr. Wotton calmly.  "Wot's she done?"
+
+"She left me," said Mr. Davis, solemnly--"she left me thirty-five years
+ago.  I went off to sea one fine morning, and that was the last I ever
+see of er.
+
+"Why, did she bolt?"  inquired Mr. Wotton, with mild interest.
+
+"No," said his friend, "but I did.  We'd been married three years--three
+long years--and I had 'ad enough of it.  Awful temper she had.  The last
+words I ever heard 'er say was: 'Take that!'"
+
+Mr. Wotton took up the mug and, after satisfying himself as to the
+absence of contents, put it down again and yawned.
+
+"I shouldn't worry about it if I was you," he remarked.  "She's hardly
+likely to find you now.  And if she does she won't get much."
+
+Mr. Davis gave vent to a contemptuous laugh.  "Get much!"  he repeated.
+"It's her what's got it.  I met a old shipmate of mine this morning what
+I 'adn't seen for ten years, and he told me he run acrost 'er only a
+month ago.  After she left me--"
+
+"But you said you left her!"  exclaimed his listening friend.
+
+"Same thing," said Mr. Davis, impatiently.  "After she left me to work
+myself to death at sea, running here and there at the orders of a pack
+o'lazy scuts aft, she went into service and stayed in one place for
+fifteen years.  Then 'er missis died and left her all 'er money.  For
+twenty years, while I've been working myself to skin and bone, she's been
+living in comfort and idleness."
+
+"'Ard lines," said Mr. Wotton, shaking his head.  "It don't bear thinking
+of."
+
+"Why didn't she advertise for me?"  said Mr. Davis, raising his voice.
+"That's what I want to know.  Advertisements is cheap enough; why didn't
+she advertise?  I should 'ave come at once if she'd said anything about
+money."
+
+Mr. Wotton shook his head again.  "P'r'aps she didn't want you," he said,
+slowly.
+
+"What's that got to do with it?"  demanded the other.  "It was 'er dooty.
+She'd got money, and I ought to have 'ad my 'arf of it.  Nothing can make
+up for that wasted twenty years--nothing."
+
+"P'r'aps she'll take you back," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+"Take me back?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "O' course she'll take me back.
+She'll have to.  There's a law in the land, ain't there?  What I'm
+thinking of is: Can I get back my share what I ought to have 'ad for the
+last twenty years?"
+
+"Get 'er to take you back first," counselled his friend.  "Thirty-five
+years is along time, and p'r'aps she has lost 'er love for you.  Was you
+good-looking in those days?"
+
+"Yes," snapped Mr. Davis; "I ain't altered much--.  'Sides, what about
+her?"
+
+"That ain't the question," said the other.  "She's got a home and money.
+It don't matter about looks; and, wot's more, she ain't bound to keep
+you.  If you take my advice, you won't dream of letting her know you run
+away from her.  Say you was cast away at sea, and when you came back
+years afterwards you couldn't find her."
+
+Mr. Davis pondered for some time in sulky silence.
+
+"P'r'aps it would be as well," he said at last; "but I sha'n't stand no
+nonsense, mind."
+
+"If you like I'll come with you," said Mr. Wotton.  "I ain't got nothing
+to do.  I could tell 'er I was cast away with you if you liked.  Anything
+to help a pal."
+
+Mr. Davis took two inches of soiled clay pipe from his pocket and puffed
+thoughtfully.
+
+"You can come," he said at last.  "If you'd only got a copper or two we
+could ride; it's down Clapham way."
+
+Mr. Wotton smiled feebly, and after going carefully through his pockets
+shook his head and followed his friend outside.
+
+"I wonder whether she'll be pleased?"  he remarked, as they walked slowly
+along.  "She might be--women are funny creatures--so faithful.  I knew
+one whose husband used to knock 'er about dreadful, and after he died she
+was so true to his memory she wouldn't marry again."
+
+Mr. Davis grunted, and, with a longing eye at the omnibuses passing over
+London Bridge, asked a policeman the distance to Clapham.
+
+"Never mind," said Mr. Wotton, as his friend uttered an exclamation.
+"You'll have money in your pocket soon."
+
+Mr. Davis's face brightened.  "And a watch and chain too," he said.
+
+"And smoke your cigar of a Sunday," said Mr. Wotton, "and have a easy-
+chair and a glass for a friend."
+
+Mr. Davis almost smiled, and then, suddenly remembering his wasted twenty
+years, shook his head grimly over the friendship that attached itself to
+easy-chairs and glasses of ale, and said that there was plenty of it
+about.  More friendship than glasses of ale and easy-chairs, perhaps.
+
+At Clapham, they inquired the way of a small boy, and, after following
+the road indicated, retraced their steps, cheered by a faint but
+bloodthirsty hope of meeting him again.
+
+A friendly baker put them on the right track at last, both gentlemen
+eyeing the road with a mixture of concern and delight.  It was a road of
+trim semi-detached villas, each with a well-kept front garden and neatly-
+curtained windows.  At the gate of a house with the word "Blairgowrie"
+inscribed in huge gilt letters on the fanlight Mr. Davis paused for a
+moment uneasily, and then, walking up the path, followed by Mr. Wotton,
+knocked at the door.
+
+He retired a step in disorder before the apparition of a maid in cap and
+apron.  A sharp "Not to-day!"  sounded in his ears and the door closed
+again.  He faced his friend gasping.
+
+"I should give her the sack first thing," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+Mr. Davis knocked again, and again.  The maid reappeared, and after
+surveying them through the glass opened the door a little way and
+parleyed.
+
+"I want to see your missis," said Mr. Davis, fiercely.
+
+"What for?"  demanded the girl.
+
+"You tell 'er," said Mr. Davis, inserting his foot just in time, "you
+tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought 'er news of
+her husband, and look sharp about it."
+
+"They was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+"On a desert island," said Mr. Davis.  He pushed his way in, followed by
+his friend, and a head that had been leaning over the banisters was
+suddenly withdrawn.  For a moment he stood irresolute in the tiny
+passage, and then, with a husband's boldness, he entered the front room
+and threw himself into an easy-chair.  Mr. Wotton, after a scared glance
+around the well-furnished room, seated himself on the extreme edge of the
+most uncomfortable chair he could find and coughed nervously.
+
+[Illustration: "You tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have
+brought 'er news of her husband"]
+
+"Better not be too sudden with her," he whispered.  "You don't want her
+to faint, or anything of that sort.  Don't let 'er know who you are at
+first; let her find it out for herself."
+
+Mr. Davis, who was also suffering from the stiff grandeur of his
+surroundings, nodded.
+
+"P'r'aps you'd better start, in case she reckernizes my voice," he said,
+slowly.  "Pitch it in strong about me and 'ow I was always wondering what
+had 'appened to her."
+
+"You're in luck, that's wot you are," said his friend, enviously.  "I've
+only seen furniture like thiss in shop windows before.  H'sh!  Here she
+comes."
+
+He started, and both men tried to look at their ease as a stiff rustling
+sounded from the stairs.  Then the door opened and a tall, stoutly-built
+old lady with white hair swept into the room and stood regarding them.
+
+Mr. Davis, unprepared for the changes wrought by thirty-five years,
+stared at her aghast.  The black silk dress, the gold watch-chain, and
+huge cameo brooch did not help to reassure him.
+
+"Good-good afternoon, ma'am," said Mr. Wotton, in a thin voice.
+
+The old lady returned the greeting, and, crossing to a chair and seating
+herself in a very upright fashion, regarded him calmly.
+
+"We--we called to see you about a dear old pal--friend, I mean,"
+continued Mr. Wotton; "one o' the best.  The best."
+
+"Yes?"  said the old lady.
+
+"He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptoms
+of fainting, "for thir-ty-five years.  Thir-ty-five years ago-very much
+against his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a sea
+v'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."
+
+"Yes?"  said the old lady again.
+
+"I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.  "Both of us was cast away
+with him."
+
+He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance at
+that gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.
+
+"We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.
+Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates.  "But we was rescued at last,
+and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."
+
+"It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got to
+do with me?"
+
+Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.
+
+"You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively.  "Wot would you
+say if I said it was--Ben Davis?"
+
+"I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.
+
+"Not--true?"  said Mr. Wotton, catching his breath painfully.  "Wish I
+may die----"
+
+"About the desert island," continued the old lady, calmly.  "The story
+that I heard was that he went off like a cur and left his young wife to
+do the best she could for herself.  I suppose he's heard since that she
+has come in for a bit of money."
+
+"Money!" repeated Mr. Wotton, in a voice that he fondly hoped expressed
+artless surprise.  "Money!"
+
+"Money," said the old lady; "and I suppose he sent you two gentlemen
+round to see how the land lay."
+
+She was looking full at Mr. Davis as she spoke, and both men began to
+take a somewhat sombre view of the situation.
+
+"You didn't know him, else you wouldn't talk like that," said Mr. Wotton.
+"I don't suppose you'd know 'im if you was to see him now."
+
+"I don't suppose I should," said the other.
+
+"P'r'aps you'd reckernize his voice?"  said Mr. Davis, breaking silence
+at last.
+
+Mr. Wotton held his breath, but the old lady merely shook her head
+thoughtfully.  "It was a disagreeable voice when his wife used to hear
+it," she said at last.  "Always fault-finding, when it wasn't swearing."
+
+Mr. Wotton glanced at his friend, and, raising his eyebrows slightly,
+gave up his task.  "Might ha' been faults on both sides," said Mr. Davis,
+gruffly.  "You weren't all that you should ha' been, you know."
+
+"Me!" said his hostess, raising her voice.
+
+[Illustration: "Don't you know me, Mary?"]
+
+"Yes, you," said Mr. Davis, rising.  "Don't you know me, Mary?  Why, I
+knew you the moment you come into the room."
+
+He moved towards her awkwardly, but she rose in her turn and drew back.
+
+"If you touch me I'll scream," she said, firmly.  "How dare you.  Why,
+I've never seen you before in my life."
+
+"It's Ben Davis, ma'am; it's 'im, right enough," said Mr. Wotton, meekly.
+
+"Hold your tongue," said the old lady.
+
+"Look at me!"  commanded Mr. Davis, sternly.  "Look at me straight in the
+eye."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," said the other, sharply.  "Look you in the eye,
+indeed!  I don't want to look in your eye.  What would people think?"
+
+"Let 'em think wot they like," said Mr. Davis, recklessly.  "This is a
+nice home-coming after being away thirty-five years."
+
+"Most of it on a desert island," put in Mr. Wotton, pathetically.
+
+"And now I've come back," resumed Mr. Davis; "come back to stop."
+
+He hung his cap on a vase on the mantelpiece that reeled under the shock,
+and, dropping into his chair again, crossed his legs and eyed her
+sternly.  Her gaze was riveted on his dilapidated boots.  She looked up
+and spoke mildly.
+
+"You're not my husband," she said.  "You've made a mistake--I think you
+had better go."
+
+"Ho!"  said Mr. Davis, with a hard laugh.  "Indeed!  And 'ow do you know
+I'm not?"
+
+"For the best of reasons," was the reply.  "Besides, how can you prove
+that you are?  Thirty-five years is a long time."
+
+"'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly.  "You'd be
+surprised 'ow slow the time passes.  I was there with 'im, and I can lay
+my hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."
+
+"Nonsense!"  said the old lady, vigorously.  "Rubbish!"
+
+"I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye.  "Do
+you remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"
+
+"If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for the
+police."
+
+"You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully.  "I remember
+once----"
+
+"If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll send
+straight off for the police.  You and your serpents!  I'll tell my
+husband of you, that's what I'll do."
+
+"Your WHAT?"  roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.
+
+"My husband.  He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you.  You'd
+better go before he comes in."
+
+"O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath.  "Oh, so you been and got
+married again, 'ave you?  That's your love for your husband as was cast
+away while trying to earn a living for you.  That's why you don't want
+me, is it?  We'll see.  I'll wait for him."
+
+"You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with great
+dignity.  "I've only been married once."
+
+Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashion
+and stared at her.
+
+"Is--is somebody passing himself off as me?"  he demanded.  "'Cos if he
+is I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"But--but--"
+
+Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend.  Mr. Wotton met his
+gaze with dilated eyes.
+
+"You say you recognize me as your wife?"  said the old lady.
+
+"Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.
+
+"It's very curious," said the other--"very.  But are you sure?  Look
+again."
+
+Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard.  She bore his
+scrutiny without flinching.
+
+"I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.
+
+"That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are a
+bit alike.  You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her house
+for a bit.  My name happens to be Smith."
+
+Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, stared
+at her open-mouthed.
+
+"We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long silence, "and
+Ben's sight ain't wot it used to be.  He strained it looking out for a
+sail when we was on that desert----"
+
+"When--when'll she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, finding his voice at
+last.
+
+The old lady affected to look puzzled.  "But I thought you were certain
+that I was your wife?"  she said, smoothly.
+
+"My mistake," said Mr. Davis, ruefully.  "Thirty-five years is a long
+time and people change a bit; I have myself.  For one thing, I must say
+I didn't expect to find 'er so stout."
+
+"Stout!"  repeated the other, quickly.
+
+"Not that I mean you're too stout," said Mr. Davis, hurriedly--"for
+people that like stoutness, that is.  My wife used to 'ave a very good
+figger."
+
+Mr. Wotton nodded.  "He used to rave about it on that des----"
+
+"When will she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, interrupting him.
+
+Mrs. Smith shook her head.  "I can't say," she replied, moving towards
+the door.  "When she's off holidaying, I never know when she'll return.
+Shall I tell her you called?"
+
+"Tell her I----certainly," said Mr. Davis, with great vehemence.  "I'll
+come in a week's time and see if she's back."
+
+"She might be away for months," said the old lady, moving slowly to the
+passage and opening the street door.  "Good-afternoon."
+
+She closed the door behind them and stood watching them through the glass
+as they passed disconsolately into the street.  Then she went back into
+the parlour, and standing before the mantelpiece, looked long and
+earnestly into the mirror.
+
+Mr. Davis returned a week later--alone, and, pausing at the gate, glanced
+in dismay at a bill in the window announcing that the house was to be
+sold.  He walked up the path still looking at it, and being admitted by
+the trim servant was shown into the parlour, and stood in a dispirited
+fashion before Mrs. Smith.
+
+"Not back yet?"  he inquired, gruffly.
+
+The old lady shook her head.
+
+"What--what--is that bill for?"  demanded Mr. Davis, jerking his thumb
+towards it.
+
+"She is thinking of selling the house," said Mrs. Smith.  "I let her know
+you had been, and that is, the result.  She won't comeback.  You won't
+see her again."
+
+"Where is she?"  inquired Mr. Davis, frowning.
+
+Mrs. Smith shook her head again.  "And it would be no use my telling
+you," she said.  "What she has got is her own, and the law won't let you
+touch a penny of it without her consent.  You must have treated her
+badly; why did you leave her?"
+
+"Why?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "Why?  Why, because she hit me over the 'ead
+with a broom-handle."
+
+Mrs. Smith tossed her head.
+
+"Fancy you remembering that for thirty-five years!"  she said.
+
+"Fancy forgetting it!"  retorted Mr. Davis.
+
+"I suppose she had a hot temper," said the old lady.
+
+"'Ot temper?"  said the other.  "Yes."  He leaned forward, and holding
+his chilled hands over the fire stood for some time deep in thought.
+
+"I don't know what it is," he said at last, "but there's a something
+about you that reminds me of her.  It ain't your voice, 'cos she had a
+very nice voice--when she wasn't in a temper--and it ain't your face,
+because--"
+
+"Yes?"  said Mrs. Smith, sharply.  "Because it don't remind me of her."
+
+"And yet the other day you said you recognized me at once," said the old
+lady.
+
+"I thought I did," said Mr. Davis.  "One thing is, I was expecting to see
+her, I s'pose."
+
+There was a long silence.
+
+"Well, I won't keep you," said Mrs. Smith at last, "and it's no good for
+you to keep coming here to see her.  She will never come here again.
+I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you don't look over and above
+respectable.  Your coat is torn, your trousers are patched in a dozen
+places, and your boots are half off your feet--I don't know what the
+servant must think."
+
+"I--I only came to look for my wife," said Mr. Davis, in a startled
+voice.  "I won't come again."
+
+"That's right," said the old lady.  "That'll please her, I know.  And if
+she should happen to ask what sort of a living you are making, what shall
+I tell her?"
+
+"Tell her what you said about my clothes, ma'am," said Mr. Davis, with
+his hand on the door-knob.  "She'll understand then.  She's known wot it
+is to be poor herself.  She'd got a bad temper, but she'd have cut her
+tongue out afore she'd 'ave thrown a poor devil's rags in his face.
+Good-afternoon."
+
+"Good-afternoon, Ben," said the old woman, in a changed voice.
+
+Mr. Davis, half-way through the door, started as though he had been shot,
+and, facing about, stood eyeing her in dumb bewilderment.
+
+"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave
+yourself?"
+
+"It isn't the same voice and it isn't the same face," said the old woman;
+"but if I'd only got a broomhandle handy----"
+
+Mr. Davis made an odd noise in his throat.
+
+"If you hadn't been so down on your luck," said his wife, blinking her
+eyes rapidly, "I'd have let you go.  If you hadn't looked 'so miserable I
+could have stood it.  If I take you back, are you going to behave
+yourself?"
+
+Mr. Davis stood gaping at her.
+
+"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, speaking very slowly, "are
+you going to behave yourself?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Davis, finding his voice at last.  "Yes, if you are."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10570 ***
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<title>Ship's Company, Book 10</title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: For Better or Worse
+       Ship's Company, Part 10.
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: January 1, 2004 [EBook #10570]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR BETTER OR WORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="cover.jpg (139K)" src="cover.jpg" height="899" width="752">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="title.jpg (44K)" src="title.jpg" height="736" width="486">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="frontis.jpg (100K)" src="frontis.jpg" height="743" width="494">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<center>
+<h2>BOOK 10</h2>
+</center>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<center>
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<h4>FROM DRAWINGS BY WILL OWEN</h4></center>
+<br>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr><td>
+
+
+
+
+<p><a href="#025">His friend complied</a><br>
+<a href="#026">"You tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought her news"</a><br>
+<a href="#027">"Don't you know me, Mary?"</a><br>
+<a href="#028">"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave?"</a></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+
+<a name="c10"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<h1>
+FOR BETTER OR WORSE
+</h1>
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<p>
+Mr. George Wotton, gently pushing the swing doors of the public bar of
+the "King's Head" an inch apart, applied an eye to the aperture, in the
+hope of discovering a moneyed friend.  His gaze fell on the only man in
+the bar a greybeard of sixty whose weather-beaten face and rough clothing
+spoke of the sea.  With a faint sigh he widened the opening and passed
+through.</p>
+
+<p>"Mornin', Ben," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a drop with me," said the other, heartily.  "Got any money about
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton shook his head and his face fell, clearing somewhat as the
+other handed him his mug.  "Drink it all up, George," he said.</p>
+
+<p>His friend complied.  A more tactful man might have taken longer over the
+job, but Mr. Benjamin Davis, who appeared to be labouring under some
+strong excitement, took no notice.</p>
+
+<a name="025"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="025.jpg (70K)" src="025.jpg" height="509" width="546">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>"I've had a shock, George," he said, regarding the other steadily.  "I've
+heard news of my old woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't know you 'ad one," said Mr. Wotton calmly.  "Wot's she done?"</p>
+
+<p>"She left me," said Mr. Davis, solemnly&mdash;"she left me thirty-five years
+ago.  I went off to sea one fine morning, and that was the last I ever
+see of er.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, did she bolt?"  inquired Mr. Wotton, with mild interest.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said his friend, "but I did.  We'd been married three years&mdash;three
+long years&mdash;and I had 'ad enough of it.  Awful temper she had.  The last
+words I ever heard 'er say was: 'Take that!'"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton took up the mug and, after satisfying himself as to the
+absence of contents, put it down again and yawned.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't worry about it if I was you," he remarked.  "She's hardly
+likely to find you now.  And if she does she won't get much."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis gave vent to a contemptuous laugh.  "Get much!"  he repeated.
+"It's her what's got it.  I met a old shipmate of mine this morning what
+I 'adn't seen for ten years, and he told me he run acrost 'er only a
+month ago.  After she left me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you said you left her!"  exclaimed his listening friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Same thing," said Mr. Davis, impatiently.  "After she left me to work
+myself to death at sea, running here and there at the orders of a pack
+o'lazy scuts aft, she went into service and stayed in one place for
+fifteen years.  Then 'er missis died and left her all 'er money.  For
+twenty years, while I've been working myself to skin and bone, she's been
+living in comfort and idleness."</p>
+
+<p>"'Ard lines," said Mr. Wotton, shaking his head.  "It don't bear thinking
+of."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't she advertise for me?"  said Mr. Davis, raising his voice.
+"That's what I want to know.  Advertisements is cheap enough; why didn't
+she advertise?  I should 'ave come at once if she'd said anything about
+money."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton shook his head again.  "P'r'aps she didn't want you," he said,
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that got to do with it?"  demanded the other.  "It was 'er dooty.
+She'd got money, and I ought to have 'ad my 'arf of it.  Nothing can make
+up for that wasted twenty years&mdash;nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps she'll take you back," said Mr. Wotton.</p>
+
+<p>"Take me back?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "O' course she'll take me back.
+She'll have to.  There's a law in the land, ain't there?  What I'm
+thinking of is: Can I get back my share what I ought to have 'ad for the
+last twenty years?"</p>
+
+<p>"Get 'er to take you back first," counselled his friend.  "Thirty-five
+years is along time, and p'r'aps she has lost 'er love for you.  Was you
+good-looking in those days?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," snapped Mr. Davis; "I ain't altered much&mdash;.  'Sides, what about
+her?"</p>
+
+<p>"That ain't the question," said the other.  "She's got a home and money.
+It don't matter about looks; and, wot's more, she ain't bound to keep
+you.  If you take my advice, you won't dream of letting her know you run
+away from her.  Say you was cast away at sea, and when you came back
+years afterwards you couldn't find her."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis pondered for some time in sulky silence.</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps it would be as well," he said at last; "but I sha'n't stand no
+nonsense, mind."</p>
+
+<p>"If you like I'll come with you," said Mr. Wotton.  "I ain't got nothing
+to do.  I could tell 'er I was cast away with you if you liked.  Anything
+to help a pal."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis took two inches of soiled clay pipe from his pocket and puffed
+thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"You can come," he said at last.  "If you'd only got a copper or two we
+could ride; it's down Clapham way."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton smiled feebly, and after going carefully through his pockets
+shook his head and followed his friend outside.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder whether she'll be pleased?"  he remarked, as they walked slowly
+along.  "She might be&mdash;women are funny creatures&mdash;so faithful.  I knew
+one whose husband used to knock 'er about dreadful, and after he died she
+was so true to his memory she wouldn't marry again."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis grunted, and, with a longing eye at the omnibuses passing over
+London Bridge, asked a policeman the distance to Clapham.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," said Mr. Wotton, as his friend uttered an exclamation.
+"You'll have money in your pocket soon."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis's face brightened.  "And a watch and chain too," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"And smoke your cigar of a Sunday," said Mr. Wotton, "and have a easy-
+chair and a glass for a friend."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis almost smiled, and then, suddenly remembering his wasted twenty
+years, shook his head grimly over the friendship that attached itself to
+easy-chairs and glasses of ale, and said that there was plenty of it
+about.  More friendship than glasses of ale and easy-chairs, perhaps.</p>
+
+<p>At Clapham, they inquired the way of a small boy, and, after following
+the road indicated, retraced their steps, cheered by a faint but
+bloodthirsty hope of meeting him again.</p>
+
+<p>A friendly baker put them on the right track at last, both gentlemen
+eyeing the road with a mixture of concern and delight.  It was a road of
+trim semi-detached villas, each with a well-kept front garden and neatly-
+curtained windows.  At the gate of a house with the word "Blairgowrie"
+inscribed in huge gilt letters on the fanlight Mr. Davis paused for a
+moment uneasily, and then, walking up the path, followed by Mr. Wotton,
+knocked at the door.</p>
+
+<p>He retired a step in disorder before the apparition of a maid in cap and
+apron.  A sharp "Not to-day!"  sounded in his ears and the door closed
+again.  He faced his friend gasping.</p>
+
+<p>"I should give her the sack first thing," said Mr. Wotton.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis knocked again, and again.  The maid reappeared, and after
+surveying them through the glass opened the door a little way and
+parleyed.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to see your missis," said Mr. Davis, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?"  demanded the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"You tell 'er," said Mr. Davis, inserting his foot just in time, "you
+tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought 'er news of
+her husband, and look sharp about it."</p>
+
+<a name="026"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="026.jpg (113K)" src="026.jpg" height="639" width="572">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+<p>"They was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.</p>
+
+<p>"On a desert island," said Mr. Davis.  He pushed his way in, followed by
+his friend, and a head that had been leaning over the banisters was
+suddenly withdrawn.  For a moment he stood irresolute in the tiny
+passage, and then, with a husband's boldness, he entered the front room
+and threw himself into an easy-chair.  Mr. Wotton, after a scared glance
+around the well-furnished room, seated himself on the extreme edge of the
+most uncomfortable chair he could find and coughed nervously.</p>
+
+
+<p>"Better not be too sudden with her," he whispered.  "You don't want her
+to faint, or anything of that sort.  Don't let 'er know who you are at
+first; let her find it out for herself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis, who was also suffering from the stiff grandeur of his
+surroundings, nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps you'd better start, in case she reckernizes my voice," he said,
+slowly.  "Pitch it in strong about me and 'ow I was always wondering what
+had 'appened to her."</p>
+
+<p>"You're in luck, that's wot you are," said his friend, enviously.  "I've
+only seen furniture like thiss in shop windows before.  H'sh!  Here she
+comes."</p>
+
+<p>He started, and both men tried to look at their ease as a stiff rustling
+sounded from the stairs.  Then the door opened and a tall, stoutly-built
+old lady with white hair swept into the room and stood regarding them.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis, unprepared for the changes wrought by thirty-five years,
+stared at her aghast.  The black silk dress, the gold watch-chain, and
+huge cameo brooch did not help to reassure him.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-good afternoon, ma'am," said Mr. Wotton, in a thin voice.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady returned the greeting, and, crossing to a chair and seating
+herself in a very upright fashion, regarded him calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we called to see you about a dear old pal&mdash;friend, I mean,"
+continued Mr. Wotton; "one o' the best.  The best."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"  said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptoms
+of fainting, "for thir-ty-five years.  Thir-ty-five years ago-very much
+against his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a sea
+v'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"  said the old lady again.</p>
+
+<p>"I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.  "Both of us was cast away
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance at
+that gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.</p>
+
+<p>"We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.
+Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates.  "But we was rescued at last,
+and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got to
+do with me?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively.  "Wot would you
+say if I said it was&mdash;Ben Davis?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not&mdash;true?"  said Mr. Wotton, catching his breath painfully.  "Wish I
+may die&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"About the desert island," continued the old lady, calmly.  "The story
+that I heard was that he went off like a cur and left his young wife to
+do the best she could for herself.  I suppose he's heard since that she
+has come in for a bit of money."</p>
+
+<p>"Money!" repeated Mr. Wotton, in a voice that he fondly hoped expressed
+artless surprise.  "Money!"</p>
+
+<p>"Money," said the old lady; "and I suppose he sent you two gentlemen
+round to see how the land lay."</p>
+
+<p>She was looking full at Mr. Davis as she spoke, and both men began to
+take a somewhat sombre view of the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't know him, else you wouldn't talk like that," said Mr. Wotton.
+"I don't suppose you'd know 'im if you was to see him now."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose I should," said the other.</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps you'd reckernize his voice?"  said Mr. Davis, breaking silence
+at last.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton held his breath, but the old lady merely shook her head
+thoughtfully.  "It was a disagreeable voice when his wife used to hear
+it," she said at last.  "Always fault-finding, when it wasn't swearing."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton glanced at his friend, and, raising his eyebrows slightly,
+gave up his task.  "Might ha' been faults on both sides," said Mr. Davis,
+gruffly.  "You weren't all that you should ha' been, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Me!" said his hostess, raising her voice.</p>
+
+
+<p>"Yes, you," said Mr. Davis, rising.  "Don't you know me, Mary?  Why, I
+knew you the moment you come into the room."</p>
+
+
+<a name="027"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="027.jpg (84K)" src="027.jpg" height="507" width="575">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>He moved towards her awkwardly, but she rose in her turn and drew back.</p>
+
+<p>"If you touch me I'll scream," she said, firmly.  "How dare you.  Why,
+I've never seen you before in my life."</p>
+
+<p>"It's Ben Davis, ma'am; it's 'im, right enough," said Mr. Wotton, meekly.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold your tongue," said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at me!"  commanded Mr. Davis, sternly.  "Look at me straight in the
+eye."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk nonsense," said the other, sharply.  "Look you in the eye,
+indeed!  I don't want to look in your eye.  What would people think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let 'em think wot they like," said Mr. Davis, recklessly.  "This is a
+nice home-coming after being away thirty-five years."</p>
+
+<p>"Most of it on a desert island," put in Mr. Wotton, pathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"And now I've come back," resumed Mr. Davis; "come back to stop."</p>
+
+<p>He hung his cap on a vase on the mantelpiece that reeled under the shock,
+and, dropping into his chair again, crossed his legs and eyed her
+sternly.  Her gaze was riveted on his dilapidated boots.  She looked up
+and spoke mildly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not my husband," she said.  "You've made a mistake&mdash;I think you
+had better go."</p>
+
+<p>"Ho!"  said Mr. Davis, with a hard laugh.  "Indeed!  And 'ow do you know
+I'm not?"</p>
+
+<p>"For the best of reasons," was the reply.  "Besides, how can you prove
+that you are?  Thirty-five years is a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly.  "You'd be
+surprised 'ow slow the time passes.  I was there with 'im, and I can lay
+my hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!"  said the old lady, vigorously.  "Rubbish!"</p>
+
+<p>"I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye.  "Do
+you remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for the
+police."</p>
+
+<p>"You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully.  "I remember
+once&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll send
+straight off for the police.  You and your serpents!  I'll tell my
+husband of you, that's what I'll do."</p>
+
+<p>"Your WHAT?"  roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband.  He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you.  You'd
+better go before he comes in."</p>
+
+<p>"O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath.  "Oh, so you been and got
+married again, 'ave you?  That's your love for your husband as was cast
+away while trying to earn a living for you.  That's why you don't want
+me, is it?  We'll see.  I'll wait for him."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with great
+dignity.  "I've only been married once."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashion
+and stared at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Is&mdash;is somebody passing himself off as me?"  he demanded.  "'Cos if he
+is I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend.  Mr. Wotton met his
+gaze with dilated eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You say you recognize me as your wife?"  said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very curious," said the other&mdash;"very.  But are you sure?  Look
+again."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard.  She bore his
+scrutiny without flinching.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are a
+bit alike.  You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her house
+for a bit.  My name happens to be Smith."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, stared
+at her open-mouthed.</p>
+
+<p>"We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long silence, "and
+Ben's sight ain't wot it used to be.  He strained it looking out for a
+sail when we was on that desert&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"When&mdash;when'll she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, finding his voice at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady affected to look puzzled.  "But I thought you were certain
+that I was your wife?"  she said, smoothly.</p>
+
+<p>"My mistake," said Mr. Davis, ruefully.  "Thirty-five years is a long
+time and people change a bit; I have myself.  For one thing, I must say
+I didn't expect to find 'er so stout."</p>
+
+<p>"Stout!"  repeated the other, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I mean you're too stout," said Mr. Davis, hurriedly&mdash;"for
+people that like stoutness, that is.  My wife used to 'ave a very good
+figger."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton nodded.  "He used to rave about it on that des&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"When will she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, interrupting him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith shook her head.  "I can't say," she replied, moving towards
+the door.  "When she's off holidaying, I never know when she'll return.
+Shall I tell her you called?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her I&mdash;&mdash;certainly," said Mr. Davis, with great vehemence.  "I'll
+come in a week's time and see if she's back."</p>
+
+<p>"She might be away for months," said the old lady, moving slowly to the
+passage and opening the street door.  "Good-afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>She closed the door behind them and stood watching them through the glass
+as they passed disconsolately into the street.  Then she went back into
+the parlour, and standing before the mantelpiece, looked long and
+earnestly into the mirror.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis returned a week later&mdash;alone, and, pausing at the gate, glanced
+in dismay at a bill in the window announcing that the house was to be
+sold.  He walked up the path still looking at it, and being admitted by
+the trim servant was shown into the parlour, and stood in a dispirited
+fashion before Mrs. Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Not back yet?"  he inquired, gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;what&mdash;is that bill for?"  demanded Mr. Davis, jerking his thumb
+towards it.</p>
+
+<p>"She is thinking of selling the house," said Mrs. Smith.  "I let her know
+you had been, and that is, the result.  She won't comeback.  You won't
+see her again."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is she?"  inquired Mr. Davis, frowning.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith shook her head again.  "And it would be no use my telling
+you," she said.  "What she has got is her own, and the law won't let you
+touch a penny of it without her consent.  You must have treated her
+badly; why did you leave her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "Why?  Why, because she hit me over the 'ead
+with a broom-handle."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith tossed her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy you remembering that for thirty-five years!"  she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy forgetting it!"  retorted Mr. Davis.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose she had a hot temper," said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ot temper?"  said the other.  "Yes."  He leaned forward, and holding
+his chilled hands over the fire stood for some time deep in thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what it is," he said at last, "but there's a something
+about you that reminds me of her.  It ain't your voice, 'cos she had a
+very nice voice&mdash;when she wasn't in a temper&mdash;and it ain't your face,
+because&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"  said Mrs. Smith, sharply.  "Because it don't remind me of her."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet the other day you said you recognized me at once," said the old
+lady.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I did," said Mr. Davis.  "One thing is, I was expecting to see
+her, I s'pose."</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I won't keep you," said Mrs. Smith at last, "and it's no good for
+you to keep coming here to see her.  She will never come here again.
+I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you don't look over and above
+respectable.  Your coat is torn, your trousers are patched in a dozen
+places, and your boots are half off your feet&mdash;I don't know what the
+servant must think."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I only came to look for my wife," said Mr. Davis, in a startled
+voice.  "I won't come again."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," said the old lady.  "That'll please her, I know.  And if
+she should happen to ask what sort of a living you are making, what shall
+I tell her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her what you said about my clothes, ma'am," said Mr. Davis, with
+his hand on the door-knob.  "She'll understand then.  She's known wot it
+is to be poor herself.  She'd got a bad temper, but she'd have cut her
+tongue out afore she'd 'ave thrown a poor devil's rags in his face.
+Good-afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-afternoon, Ben," said the old woman, in a changed voice.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis, half-way through the door, started as though he had been shot,
+and, facing about, stood eyeing her in dumb bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave
+yourself?"</p>
+
+
+<a name="028"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="028.jpg (110K)" src="028.jpg" height="618" width="532">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>"It isn't the same voice and it isn't the same face," said the old woman;
+"but if I'd only got a broomhandle handy&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis made an odd noise in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>"If you hadn't been so down on your luck," said his wife, blinking her
+eyes rapidly, "I'd have let you go.  If you hadn't looked 'so miserable I
+could have stood it.  If I take you back, are you going to behave
+yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis stood gaping at her.</p>
+
+<p>"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, speaking very slowly, "are
+you going to behave yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Davis, finding his voice at last.  "Yes, if you are."</p>
+
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
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+</body>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: For Better or Worse
+       Ship's Company, Part 10.
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: January 1, 2004 [EBook #10570]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR BETTER OR WORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+SHIP'S COMPANY
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+FOR BETTER OR WORSE
+
+
+Mr. George Wotton, gently pushing the swing doors of the public bar of
+the "King's Head" an inch apart, applied an eye to the aperture, in the
+hope of discovering a moneyed friend.  His gaze fell on the only man in
+the bar a greybeard of sixty whose weather-beaten face and rough clothing
+spoke of the sea.  With a faint sigh he widened the opening and passed
+through.
+
+"Mornin', Ben," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
+
+"Have a drop with me," said the other, heartily.  "Got any money about
+you?"
+
+Mr. Wotton shook his head and his face fell, clearing somewhat as the
+other handed him his mug.  "Drink it all up, George," he said.
+
+His friend complied.  A more tactful man might have taken longer over the
+job, but Mr. Benjamin Davis, who appeared to be labouring under some
+strong excitement, took no notice.
+
+"I've had a shock, George," he said, regarding the other steadily.  "I've
+heard news of my old woman."
+
+"Didn't know you 'ad one," said Mr. Wotton calmly.  "Wot's she done?"
+
+"She left me," said Mr. Davis, solemnly--"she left me thirty-five years
+ago.  I went off to sea one fine morning, and that was the last I ever
+see of er.
+
+"Why, did she bolt?"  inquired Mr. Wotton, with mild interest.
+
+"No," said his friend, "but I did.  We'd been married three years--three
+long years--and I had 'ad enough of it.  Awful temper she had.  The last
+words I ever heard 'er say was: 'Take that!'"
+
+Mr. Wotton took up the mug and, after satisfying himself as to the
+absence of contents, put it down again and yawned.
+
+"I shouldn't worry about it if I was you," he remarked.  "She's hardly
+likely to find you now.  And if she does she won't get much."
+
+Mr. Davis gave vent to a contemptuous laugh.  "Get much!"  he repeated.
+"It's her what's got it.  I met a old shipmate of mine this morning what
+I 'adn't seen for ten years, and he told me he run acrost 'er only a
+month ago.  After she left me--"
+
+"But you said you left her!"  exclaimed his listening friend.
+
+"Same thing," said Mr. Davis, impatiently.  "After she left me to work
+myself to death at sea, running here and there at the orders of a pack
+o'lazy scuts aft, she went into service and stayed in one place for
+fifteen years.  Then 'er missis died and left her all 'er money.  For
+twenty years, while I've been working myself to skin and bone, she's been
+living in comfort and idleness."
+
+"'Ard lines," said Mr. Wotton, shaking his head.  "It don't bear thinking
+of."
+
+"Why didn't she advertise for me?"  said Mr. Davis, raising his voice.
+"That's what I want to know.  Advertisements is cheap enough; why didn't
+she advertise?  I should 'ave come at once if she'd said anything about
+money."
+
+Mr. Wotton shook his head again.  "P'r'aps she didn't want you," he said,
+slowly.
+
+"What's that got to do with it?"  demanded the other.  "It was 'er dooty.
+She'd got money, and I ought to have 'ad my 'arf of it.  Nothing can make
+up for that wasted twenty years--nothing."
+
+"P'r'aps she'll take you back," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+"Take me back?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "O' course she'll take me back.
+She'll have to.  There's a law in the land, ain't there?  What I'm
+thinking of is: Can I get back my share what I ought to have 'ad for the
+last twenty years?"
+
+"Get 'er to take you back first," counselled his friend.  "Thirty-five
+years is along time, and p'r'aps she has lost 'er love for you.  Was you
+good-looking in those days?"
+
+"Yes," snapped Mr. Davis; "I ain't altered much--.  'Sides, what about
+her?"
+
+"That ain't the question," said the other.  "She's got a home and money.
+It don't matter about looks; and, wot's more, she ain't bound to keep
+you.  If you take my advice, you won't dream of letting her know you run
+away from her.  Say you was cast away at sea, and when you came back
+years afterwards you couldn't find her."
+
+Mr. Davis pondered for some time in sulky silence.
+
+"P'r'aps it would be as well," he said at last; "but I sha'n't stand no
+nonsense, mind."
+
+"If you like I'll come with you," said Mr. Wotton.  "I ain't got nothing
+to do.  I could tell 'er I was cast away with you if you liked.  Anything
+to help a pal."
+
+Mr. Davis took two inches of soiled clay pipe from his pocket and puffed
+thoughtfully.
+
+"You can come," he said at last.  "If you'd only got a copper or two we
+could ride; it's down Clapham way."
+
+Mr. Wotton smiled feebly, and after going carefully through his pockets
+shook his head and followed his friend outside.
+
+"I wonder whether she'll be pleased?"  he remarked, as they walked slowly
+along.  "She might be--women are funny creatures--so faithful.  I knew
+one whose husband used to knock 'er about dreadful, and after he died she
+was so true to his memory she wouldn't marry again."
+
+Mr. Davis grunted, and, with a longing eye at the omnibuses passing over
+London Bridge, asked a policeman the distance to Clapham.
+
+"Never mind," said Mr. Wotton, as his friend uttered an exclamation.
+"You'll have money in your pocket soon."
+
+Mr. Davis's face brightened.  "And a watch and chain too," he said.
+
+"And smoke your cigar of a Sunday," said Mr. Wotton, "and have a easy-
+chair and a glass for a friend."
+
+Mr. Davis almost smiled, and then, suddenly remembering his wasted twenty
+years, shook his head grimly over the friendship that attached itself to
+easy-chairs and glasses of ale, and said that there was plenty of it
+about.  More friendship than glasses of ale and easy-chairs, perhaps.
+
+At Clapham, they inquired the way of a small boy, and, after following
+the road indicated, retraced their steps, cheered by a faint but
+bloodthirsty hope of meeting him again.
+
+A friendly baker put them on the right track at last, both gentlemen
+eyeing the road with a mixture of concern and delight.  It was a road of
+trim semi-detached villas, each with a well-kept front garden and neatly-
+curtained windows.  At the gate of a house with the word "Blairgowrie"
+inscribed in huge gilt letters on the fanlight Mr. Davis paused for a
+moment uneasily, and then, walking up the path, followed by Mr. Wotton,
+knocked at the door.
+
+He retired a step in disorder before the apparition of a maid in cap and
+apron.  A sharp "Not to-day!"  sounded in his ears and the door closed
+again.  He faced his friend gasping.
+
+"I should give her the sack first thing," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+Mr. Davis knocked again, and again.  The maid reappeared, and after
+surveying them through the glass opened the door a little way and
+parleyed.
+
+"I want to see your missis," said Mr. Davis, fiercely.
+
+"What for?"  demanded the girl.
+
+"You tell 'er," said Mr. Davis, inserting his foot just in time, "you
+tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought 'er news of
+her husband, and look sharp about it."
+
+"They was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+"On a desert island," said Mr. Davis.  He pushed his way in, followed by
+his friend, and a head that had been leaning over the banisters was
+suddenly withdrawn.  For a moment he stood irresolute in the tiny
+passage, and then, with a husband's boldness, he entered the front room
+and threw himself into an easy-chair.  Mr. Wotton, after a scared glance
+around the well-furnished room, seated himself on the extreme edge of the
+most uncomfortable chair he could find and coughed nervously.
+
+[Illustration: "You tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have
+brought 'er news of her husband"]
+
+"Better not be too sudden with her," he whispered.  "You don't want her
+to faint, or anything of that sort.  Don't let 'er know who you are at
+first; let her find it out for herself."
+
+Mr. Davis, who was also suffering from the stiff grandeur of his
+surroundings, nodded.
+
+"P'r'aps you'd better start, in case she reckernizes my voice," he said,
+slowly.  "Pitch it in strong about me and 'ow I was always wondering what
+had 'appened to her."
+
+"You're in luck, that's wot you are," said his friend, enviously.  "I've
+only seen furniture like thiss in shop windows before.  H'sh!  Here she
+comes."
+
+He started, and both men tried to look at their ease as a stiff rustling
+sounded from the stairs.  Then the door opened and a tall, stoutly-built
+old lady with white hair swept into the room and stood regarding them.
+
+Mr. Davis, unprepared for the changes wrought by thirty-five years,
+stared at her aghast.  The black silk dress, the gold watch-chain, and
+huge cameo brooch did not help to reassure him.
+
+"Good-good afternoon, ma'am," said Mr. Wotton, in a thin voice.
+
+The old lady returned the greeting, and, crossing to a chair and seating
+herself in a very upright fashion, regarded him calmly.
+
+"We--we called to see you about a dear old pal--friend, I mean,"
+continued Mr. Wotton; "one o' the best.  The best."
+
+"Yes?"  said the old lady.
+
+"He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptoms
+of fainting, "for thir-ty-five years.  Thir-ty-five years ago-very much
+against his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a sea
+v'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."
+
+"Yes?"  said the old lady again.
+
+"I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.  "Both of us was cast away
+with him."
+
+He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance at
+that gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.
+
+"We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.
+Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates.  "But we was rescued at last,
+and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."
+
+"It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got to
+do with me?"
+
+Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.
+
+"You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively.  "Wot would you
+say if I said it was--Ben Davis?"
+
+"I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.
+
+"Not--true?"  said Mr. Wotton, catching his breath painfully.  "Wish I
+may die----"
+
+"About the desert island," continued the old lady, calmly.  "The story
+that I heard was that he went off like a cur and left his young wife to
+do the best she could for herself.  I suppose he's heard since that she
+has come in for a bit of money."
+
+"Money!" repeated Mr. Wotton, in a voice that he fondly hoped expressed
+artless surprise.  "Money!"
+
+"Money," said the old lady; "and I suppose he sent you two gentlemen
+round to see how the land lay."
+
+She was looking full at Mr. Davis as she spoke, and both men began to
+take a somewhat sombre view of the situation.
+
+"You didn't know him, else you wouldn't talk like that," said Mr. Wotton.
+"I don't suppose you'd know 'im if you was to see him now."
+
+"I don't suppose I should," said the other.
+
+"P'r'aps you'd reckernize his voice?"  said Mr. Davis, breaking silence
+at last.
+
+Mr. Wotton held his breath, but the old lady merely shook her head
+thoughtfully.  "It was a disagreeable voice when his wife used to hear
+it," she said at last.  "Always fault-finding, when it wasn't swearing."
+
+Mr. Wotton glanced at his friend, and, raising his eyebrows slightly,
+gave up his task.  "Might ha' been faults on both sides," said Mr. Davis,
+gruffly.  "You weren't all that you should ha' been, you know."
+
+"Me!" said his hostess, raising her voice.
+
+[Illustration: "Don't you know me, Mary?"]
+
+"Yes, you," said Mr. Davis, rising.  "Don't you know me, Mary?  Why, I
+knew you the moment you come into the room."
+
+He moved towards her awkwardly, but she rose in her turn and drew back.
+
+"If you touch me I'll scream," she said, firmly.  "How dare you.  Why,
+I've never seen you before in my life."
+
+"It's Ben Davis, ma'am; it's 'im, right enough," said Mr. Wotton, meekly.
+
+"Hold your tongue," said the old lady.
+
+"Look at me!"  commanded Mr. Davis, sternly.  "Look at me straight in the
+eye."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," said the other, sharply.  "Look you in the eye,
+indeed!  I don't want to look in your eye.  What would people think?"
+
+"Let 'em think wot they like," said Mr. Davis, recklessly.  "This is a
+nice home-coming after being away thirty-five years."
+
+"Most of it on a desert island," put in Mr. Wotton, pathetically.
+
+"And now I've come back," resumed Mr. Davis; "come back to stop."
+
+He hung his cap on a vase on the mantelpiece that reeled under the shock,
+and, dropping into his chair again, crossed his legs and eyed her
+sternly.  Her gaze was riveted on his dilapidated boots.  She looked up
+and spoke mildly.
+
+"You're not my husband," she said.  "You've made a mistake--I think you
+had better go."
+
+"Ho!"  said Mr. Davis, with a hard laugh.  "Indeed!  And 'ow do you know
+I'm not?"
+
+"For the best of reasons," was the reply.  "Besides, how can you prove
+that you are?  Thirty-five years is a long time."
+
+"'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly.  "You'd be
+surprised 'ow slow the time passes.  I was there with 'im, and I can lay
+my hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."
+
+"Nonsense!"  said the old lady, vigorously.  "Rubbish!"
+
+"I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye.  "Do
+you remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"
+
+"If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for the
+police."
+
+"You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully.  "I remember
+once----"
+
+"If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll send
+straight off for the police.  You and your serpents!  I'll tell my
+husband of you, that's what I'll do."
+
+"Your WHAT?"  roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.
+
+"My husband.  He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you.  You'd
+better go before he comes in."
+
+"O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath.  "Oh, so you been and got
+married again, 'ave you?  That's your love for your husband as was cast
+away while trying to earn a living for you.  That's why you don't want
+me, is it?  We'll see.  I'll wait for him."
+
+"You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with great
+dignity.  "I've only been married once."
+
+Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashion
+and stared at her.
+
+"Is--is somebody passing himself off as me?"  he demanded.  "'Cos if he
+is I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"But--but--"
+
+Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend.  Mr. Wotton met his
+gaze with dilated eyes.
+
+"You say you recognize me as your wife?"  said the old lady.
+
+"Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.
+
+"It's very curious," said the other--"very.  But are you sure?  Look
+again."
+
+Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard.  She bore his
+scrutiny without flinching.
+
+"I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.
+
+"That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are a
+bit alike.  You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her house
+for a bit.  My name happens to be Smith."
+
+Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, stared
+at her open-mouthed.
+
+"We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long silence, "and
+Ben's sight ain't wot it used to be.  He strained it looking out for a
+sail when we was on that desert----"
+
+"When--when'll she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, finding his voice at
+last.
+
+The old lady affected to look puzzled.  "But I thought you were certain
+that I was your wife?"  she said, smoothly.
+
+"My mistake," said Mr. Davis, ruefully.  "Thirty-five years is a long
+time and people change a bit; I have myself.  For one thing, I must say
+I didn't expect to find 'er so stout."
+
+"Stout!"  repeated the other, quickly.
+
+"Not that I mean you're too stout," said Mr. Davis, hurriedly--"for
+people that like stoutness, that is.  My wife used to 'ave a very good
+figger."
+
+Mr. Wotton nodded.  "He used to rave about it on that des----"
+
+"When will she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, interrupting him.
+
+Mrs. Smith shook her head.  "I can't say," she replied, moving towards
+the door.  "When she's off holidaying, I never know when she'll return.
+Shall I tell her you called?"
+
+"Tell her I----certainly," said Mr. Davis, with great vehemence.  "I'll
+come in a week's time and see if she's back."
+
+"She might be away for months," said the old lady, moving slowly to the
+passage and opening the street door.  "Good-afternoon."
+
+She closed the door behind them and stood watching them through the glass
+as they passed disconsolately into the street.  Then she went back into
+the parlour, and standing before the mantelpiece, looked long and
+earnestly into the mirror.
+
+Mr. Davis returned a week later--alone, and, pausing at the gate, glanced
+in dismay at a bill in the window announcing that the house was to be
+sold.  He walked up the path still looking at it, and being admitted by
+the trim servant was shown into the parlour, and stood in a dispirited
+fashion before Mrs. Smith.
+
+"Not back yet?"  he inquired, gruffly.
+
+The old lady shook her head.
+
+"What--what--is that bill for?"  demanded Mr. Davis, jerking his thumb
+towards it.
+
+"She is thinking of selling the house," said Mrs. Smith.  "I let her know
+you had been, and that is, the result.  She won't comeback.  You won't
+see her again."
+
+"Where is she?"  inquired Mr. Davis, frowning.
+
+Mrs. Smith shook her head again.  "And it would be no use my telling
+you," she said.  "What she has got is her own, and the law won't let you
+touch a penny of it without her consent.  You must have treated her
+badly; why did you leave her?"
+
+"Why?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "Why?  Why, because she hit me over the 'ead
+with a broom-handle."
+
+Mrs. Smith tossed her head.
+
+"Fancy you remembering that for thirty-five years!"  she said.
+
+"Fancy forgetting it!"  retorted Mr. Davis.
+
+"I suppose she had a hot temper," said the old lady.
+
+"'Ot temper?"  said the other.  "Yes."  He leaned forward, and holding
+his chilled hands over the fire stood for some time deep in thought.
+
+"I don't know what it is," he said at last, "but there's a something
+about you that reminds me of her.  It ain't your voice, 'cos she had a
+very nice voice--when she wasn't in a temper--and it ain't your face,
+because--"
+
+"Yes?"  said Mrs. Smith, sharply.  "Because it don't remind me of her."
+
+"And yet the other day you said you recognized me at once," said the old
+lady.
+
+"I thought I did," said Mr. Davis.  "One thing is, I was expecting to see
+her, I s'pose."
+
+There was a long silence.
+
+"Well, I won't keep you," said Mrs. Smith at last, "and it's no good for
+you to keep coming here to see her.  She will never come here again.
+I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you don't look over and above
+respectable.  Your coat is torn, your trousers are patched in a dozen
+places, and your boots are half off your feet--I don't know what the
+servant must think."
+
+"I--I only came to look for my wife," said Mr. Davis, in a startled
+voice.  "I won't come again."
+
+"That's right," said the old lady.  "That'll please her, I know.  And if
+she should happen to ask what sort of a living you are making, what shall
+I tell her?"
+
+"Tell her what you said about my clothes, ma'am," said Mr. Davis, with
+his hand on the door-knob.  "She'll understand then.  She's known wot it
+is to be poor herself.  She'd got a bad temper, but she'd have cut her
+tongue out afore she'd 'ave thrown a poor devil's rags in his face.
+Good-afternoon."
+
+"Good-afternoon, Ben," said the old woman, in a changed voice.
+
+Mr. Davis, half-way through the door, started as though he had been shot,
+and, facing about, stood eyeing her in dumb bewilderment.
+
+"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave
+yourself?"
+
+"It isn't the same voice and it isn't the same face," said the old woman;
+"but if I'd only got a broomhandle handy----"
+
+Mr. Davis made an odd noise in his throat.
+
+"If you hadn't been so down on your luck," said his wife, blinking her
+eyes rapidly, "I'd have let you go.  If you hadn't looked 'so miserable I
+could have stood it.  If I take you back, are you going to behave
+yourself?"
+
+Mr. Davis stood gaping at her.
+
+"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, speaking very slowly, "are
+you going to behave yourself?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Davis, finding his voice at last.  "Yes, if you are."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #10570 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10570)
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<title>Ship's Company, Book 10</title>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+<style type="text/css">
+<!--
+body {margin:10%; text-align:justify}
+img {border: 0;}
+blockquote {font-size:14pt}
+P {font-size:14pt}
+-->
+</style>
+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: For Better or Worse
+       Ship's Company, Part 10.
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: January 1, 2004 [EBook #10570]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR BETTER OR WORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="cover.jpg (139K)" src="cover.jpg" height="899" width="752">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="title.jpg (44K)" src="title.jpg" height="736" width="486">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="frontis.jpg (100K)" src="frontis.jpg" height="743" width="494">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<center>
+<h2>BOOK 10</h2>
+</center>
+<br><br><br><br>
+
+<center>
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<h4>FROM DRAWINGS BY WILL OWEN</h4></center>
+<br>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr><td>
+
+
+
+
+<p><a href="#025">His friend complied</a><br>
+<a href="#026">"You tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought her news"</a><br>
+<a href="#027">"Don't you know me, Mary?"</a><br>
+<a href="#028">"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave?"</a></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+<br><br>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+
+<a name="c10"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<h1>
+FOR BETTER OR WORSE
+</h1>
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<p>
+Mr. George Wotton, gently pushing the swing doors of the public bar of
+the "King's Head" an inch apart, applied an eye to the aperture, in the
+hope of discovering a moneyed friend.  His gaze fell on the only man in
+the bar a greybeard of sixty whose weather-beaten face and rough clothing
+spoke of the sea.  With a faint sigh he widened the opening and passed
+through.</p>
+
+<p>"Mornin', Ben," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p>"Have a drop with me," said the other, heartily.  "Got any money about
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton shook his head and his face fell, clearing somewhat as the
+other handed him his mug.  "Drink it all up, George," he said.</p>
+
+<p>His friend complied.  A more tactful man might have taken longer over the
+job, but Mr. Benjamin Davis, who appeared to be labouring under some
+strong excitement, took no notice.</p>
+
+<a name="025"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="025.jpg (70K)" src="025.jpg" height="509" width="546">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>"I've had a shock, George," he said, regarding the other steadily.  "I've
+heard news of my old woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't know you 'ad one," said Mr. Wotton calmly.  "Wot's she done?"</p>
+
+<p>"She left me," said Mr. Davis, solemnly&mdash;"she left me thirty-five years
+ago.  I went off to sea one fine morning, and that was the last I ever
+see of er.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, did she bolt?"  inquired Mr. Wotton, with mild interest.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said his friend, "but I did.  We'd been married three years&mdash;three
+long years&mdash;and I had 'ad enough of it.  Awful temper she had.  The last
+words I ever heard 'er say was: 'Take that!'"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton took up the mug and, after satisfying himself as to the
+absence of contents, put it down again and yawned.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't worry about it if I was you," he remarked.  "She's hardly
+likely to find you now.  And if she does she won't get much."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis gave vent to a contemptuous laugh.  "Get much!"  he repeated.
+"It's her what's got it.  I met a old shipmate of mine this morning what
+I 'adn't seen for ten years, and he told me he run acrost 'er only a
+month ago.  After she left me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you said you left her!"  exclaimed his listening friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Same thing," said Mr. Davis, impatiently.  "After she left me to work
+myself to death at sea, running here and there at the orders of a pack
+o'lazy scuts aft, she went into service and stayed in one place for
+fifteen years.  Then 'er missis died and left her all 'er money.  For
+twenty years, while I've been working myself to skin and bone, she's been
+living in comfort and idleness."</p>
+
+<p>"'Ard lines," said Mr. Wotton, shaking his head.  "It don't bear thinking
+of."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't she advertise for me?"  said Mr. Davis, raising his voice.
+"That's what I want to know.  Advertisements is cheap enough; why didn't
+she advertise?  I should 'ave come at once if she'd said anything about
+money."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton shook his head again.  "P'r'aps she didn't want you," he said,
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that got to do with it?"  demanded the other.  "It was 'er dooty.
+She'd got money, and I ought to have 'ad my 'arf of it.  Nothing can make
+up for that wasted twenty years&mdash;nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps she'll take you back," said Mr. Wotton.</p>
+
+<p>"Take me back?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "O' course she'll take me back.
+She'll have to.  There's a law in the land, ain't there?  What I'm
+thinking of is: Can I get back my share what I ought to have 'ad for the
+last twenty years?"</p>
+
+<p>"Get 'er to take you back first," counselled his friend.  "Thirty-five
+years is along time, and p'r'aps she has lost 'er love for you.  Was you
+good-looking in those days?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," snapped Mr. Davis; "I ain't altered much&mdash;.  'Sides, what about
+her?"</p>
+
+<p>"That ain't the question," said the other.  "She's got a home and money.
+It don't matter about looks; and, wot's more, she ain't bound to keep
+you.  If you take my advice, you won't dream of letting her know you run
+away from her.  Say you was cast away at sea, and when you came back
+years afterwards you couldn't find her."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis pondered for some time in sulky silence.</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps it would be as well," he said at last; "but I sha'n't stand no
+nonsense, mind."</p>
+
+<p>"If you like I'll come with you," said Mr. Wotton.  "I ain't got nothing
+to do.  I could tell 'er I was cast away with you if you liked.  Anything
+to help a pal."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis took two inches of soiled clay pipe from his pocket and puffed
+thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"You can come," he said at last.  "If you'd only got a copper or two we
+could ride; it's down Clapham way."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton smiled feebly, and after going carefully through his pockets
+shook his head and followed his friend outside.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder whether she'll be pleased?"  he remarked, as they walked slowly
+along.  "She might be&mdash;women are funny creatures&mdash;so faithful.  I knew
+one whose husband used to knock 'er about dreadful, and after he died she
+was so true to his memory she wouldn't marry again."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis grunted, and, with a longing eye at the omnibuses passing over
+London Bridge, asked a policeman the distance to Clapham.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," said Mr. Wotton, as his friend uttered an exclamation.
+"You'll have money in your pocket soon."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis's face brightened.  "And a watch and chain too," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"And smoke your cigar of a Sunday," said Mr. Wotton, "and have a easy-
+chair and a glass for a friend."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis almost smiled, and then, suddenly remembering his wasted twenty
+years, shook his head grimly over the friendship that attached itself to
+easy-chairs and glasses of ale, and said that there was plenty of it
+about.  More friendship than glasses of ale and easy-chairs, perhaps.</p>
+
+<p>At Clapham, they inquired the way of a small boy, and, after following
+the road indicated, retraced their steps, cheered by a faint but
+bloodthirsty hope of meeting him again.</p>
+
+<p>A friendly baker put them on the right track at last, both gentlemen
+eyeing the road with a mixture of concern and delight.  It was a road of
+trim semi-detached villas, each with a well-kept front garden and neatly-
+curtained windows.  At the gate of a house with the word "Blairgowrie"
+inscribed in huge gilt letters on the fanlight Mr. Davis paused for a
+moment uneasily, and then, walking up the path, followed by Mr. Wotton,
+knocked at the door.</p>
+
+<p>He retired a step in disorder before the apparition of a maid in cap and
+apron.  A sharp "Not to-day!"  sounded in his ears and the door closed
+again.  He faced his friend gasping.</p>
+
+<p>"I should give her the sack first thing," said Mr. Wotton.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis knocked again, and again.  The maid reappeared, and after
+surveying them through the glass opened the door a little way and
+parleyed.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to see your missis," said Mr. Davis, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?"  demanded the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"You tell 'er," said Mr. Davis, inserting his foot just in time, "you
+tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought 'er news of
+her husband, and look sharp about it."</p>
+
+<a name="026"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="026.jpg (113K)" src="026.jpg" height="639" width="572">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+<p>"They was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.</p>
+
+<p>"On a desert island," said Mr. Davis.  He pushed his way in, followed by
+his friend, and a head that had been leaning over the banisters was
+suddenly withdrawn.  For a moment he stood irresolute in the tiny
+passage, and then, with a husband's boldness, he entered the front room
+and threw himself into an easy-chair.  Mr. Wotton, after a scared glance
+around the well-furnished room, seated himself on the extreme edge of the
+most uncomfortable chair he could find and coughed nervously.</p>
+
+
+<p>"Better not be too sudden with her," he whispered.  "You don't want her
+to faint, or anything of that sort.  Don't let 'er know who you are at
+first; let her find it out for herself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis, who was also suffering from the stiff grandeur of his
+surroundings, nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps you'd better start, in case she reckernizes my voice," he said,
+slowly.  "Pitch it in strong about me and 'ow I was always wondering what
+had 'appened to her."</p>
+
+<p>"You're in luck, that's wot you are," said his friend, enviously.  "I've
+only seen furniture like thiss in shop windows before.  H'sh!  Here she
+comes."</p>
+
+<p>He started, and both men tried to look at their ease as a stiff rustling
+sounded from the stairs.  Then the door opened and a tall, stoutly-built
+old lady with white hair swept into the room and stood regarding them.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis, unprepared for the changes wrought by thirty-five years,
+stared at her aghast.  The black silk dress, the gold watch-chain, and
+huge cameo brooch did not help to reassure him.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-good afternoon, ma'am," said Mr. Wotton, in a thin voice.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady returned the greeting, and, crossing to a chair and seating
+herself in a very upright fashion, regarded him calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we called to see you about a dear old pal&mdash;friend, I mean,"
+continued Mr. Wotton; "one o' the best.  The best."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"  said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptoms
+of fainting, "for thir-ty-five years.  Thir-ty-five years ago-very much
+against his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a sea
+v'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"  said the old lady again.</p>
+
+<p>"I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.  "Both of us was cast away
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance at
+that gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.</p>
+
+<p>"We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.
+Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates.  "But we was rescued at last,
+and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got to
+do with me?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively.  "Wot would you
+say if I said it was&mdash;Ben Davis?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not&mdash;true?"  said Mr. Wotton, catching his breath painfully.  "Wish I
+may die&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"About the desert island," continued the old lady, calmly.  "The story
+that I heard was that he went off like a cur and left his young wife to
+do the best she could for herself.  I suppose he's heard since that she
+has come in for a bit of money."</p>
+
+<p>"Money!" repeated Mr. Wotton, in a voice that he fondly hoped expressed
+artless surprise.  "Money!"</p>
+
+<p>"Money," said the old lady; "and I suppose he sent you two gentlemen
+round to see how the land lay."</p>
+
+<p>She was looking full at Mr. Davis as she spoke, and both men began to
+take a somewhat sombre view of the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't know him, else you wouldn't talk like that," said Mr. Wotton.
+"I don't suppose you'd know 'im if you was to see him now."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't suppose I should," said the other.</p>
+
+<p>"P'r'aps you'd reckernize his voice?"  said Mr. Davis, breaking silence
+at last.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton held his breath, but the old lady merely shook her head
+thoughtfully.  "It was a disagreeable voice when his wife used to hear
+it," she said at last.  "Always fault-finding, when it wasn't swearing."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton glanced at his friend, and, raising his eyebrows slightly,
+gave up his task.  "Might ha' been faults on both sides," said Mr. Davis,
+gruffly.  "You weren't all that you should ha' been, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Me!" said his hostess, raising her voice.</p>
+
+
+<p>"Yes, you," said Mr. Davis, rising.  "Don't you know me, Mary?  Why, I
+knew you the moment you come into the room."</p>
+
+
+<a name="027"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="027.jpg (84K)" src="027.jpg" height="507" width="575">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>He moved towards her awkwardly, but she rose in her turn and drew back.</p>
+
+<p>"If you touch me I'll scream," she said, firmly.  "How dare you.  Why,
+I've never seen you before in my life."</p>
+
+<p>"It's Ben Davis, ma'am; it's 'im, right enough," said Mr. Wotton, meekly.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold your tongue," said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at me!"  commanded Mr. Davis, sternly.  "Look at me straight in the
+eye."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk nonsense," said the other, sharply.  "Look you in the eye,
+indeed!  I don't want to look in your eye.  What would people think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let 'em think wot they like," said Mr. Davis, recklessly.  "This is a
+nice home-coming after being away thirty-five years."</p>
+
+<p>"Most of it on a desert island," put in Mr. Wotton, pathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"And now I've come back," resumed Mr. Davis; "come back to stop."</p>
+
+<p>He hung his cap on a vase on the mantelpiece that reeled under the shock,
+and, dropping into his chair again, crossed his legs and eyed her
+sternly.  Her gaze was riveted on his dilapidated boots.  She looked up
+and spoke mildly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not my husband," she said.  "You've made a mistake&mdash;I think you
+had better go."</p>
+
+<p>"Ho!"  said Mr. Davis, with a hard laugh.  "Indeed!  And 'ow do you know
+I'm not?"</p>
+
+<p>"For the best of reasons," was the reply.  "Besides, how can you prove
+that you are?  Thirty-five years is a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly.  "You'd be
+surprised 'ow slow the time passes.  I was there with 'im, and I can lay
+my hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!"  said the old lady, vigorously.  "Rubbish!"</p>
+
+<p>"I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye.  "Do
+you remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for the
+police."</p>
+
+<p>"You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully.  "I remember
+once&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll send
+straight off for the police.  You and your serpents!  I'll tell my
+husband of you, that's what I'll do."</p>
+
+<p>"Your WHAT?"  roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"My husband.  He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you.  You'd
+better go before he comes in."</p>
+
+<p>"O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath.  "Oh, so you been and got
+married again, 'ave you?  That's your love for your husband as was cast
+away while trying to earn a living for you.  That's why you don't want
+me, is it?  We'll see.  I'll wait for him."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with great
+dignity.  "I've only been married once."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashion
+and stared at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Is&mdash;is somebody passing himself off as me?"  he demanded.  "'Cos if he
+is I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend.  Mr. Wotton met his
+gaze with dilated eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You say you recognize me as your wife?"  said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very curious," said the other&mdash;"very.  But are you sure?  Look
+again."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard.  She bore his
+scrutiny without flinching.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are a
+bit alike.  You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her house
+for a bit.  My name happens to be Smith."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, stared
+at her open-mouthed.</p>
+
+<p>"We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long silence, "and
+Ben's sight ain't wot it used to be.  He strained it looking out for a
+sail when we was on that desert&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"When&mdash;when'll she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, finding his voice at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady affected to look puzzled.  "But I thought you were certain
+that I was your wife?"  she said, smoothly.</p>
+
+<p>"My mistake," said Mr. Davis, ruefully.  "Thirty-five years is a long
+time and people change a bit; I have myself.  For one thing, I must say
+I didn't expect to find 'er so stout."</p>
+
+<p>"Stout!"  repeated the other, quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I mean you're too stout," said Mr. Davis, hurriedly&mdash;"for
+people that like stoutness, that is.  My wife used to 'ave a very good
+figger."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wotton nodded.  "He used to rave about it on that des&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"When will she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, interrupting him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith shook her head.  "I can't say," she replied, moving towards
+the door.  "When she's off holidaying, I never know when she'll return.
+Shall I tell her you called?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her I&mdash;&mdash;certainly," said Mr. Davis, with great vehemence.  "I'll
+come in a week's time and see if she's back."</p>
+
+<p>"She might be away for months," said the old lady, moving slowly to the
+passage and opening the street door.  "Good-afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>She closed the door behind them and stood watching them through the glass
+as they passed disconsolately into the street.  Then she went back into
+the parlour, and standing before the mantelpiece, looked long and
+earnestly into the mirror.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis returned a week later&mdash;alone, and, pausing at the gate, glanced
+in dismay at a bill in the window announcing that the house was to be
+sold.  He walked up the path still looking at it, and being admitted by
+the trim servant was shown into the parlour, and stood in a dispirited
+fashion before Mrs. Smith.</p>
+
+<p>"Not back yet?"  he inquired, gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;what&mdash;is that bill for?"  demanded Mr. Davis, jerking his thumb
+towards it.</p>
+
+<p>"She is thinking of selling the house," said Mrs. Smith.  "I let her know
+you had been, and that is, the result.  She won't comeback.  You won't
+see her again."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is she?"  inquired Mr. Davis, frowning.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith shook her head again.  "And it would be no use my telling
+you," she said.  "What she has got is her own, and the law won't let you
+touch a penny of it without her consent.  You must have treated her
+badly; why did you leave her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "Why?  Why, because she hit me over the 'ead
+with a broom-handle."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Smith tossed her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy you remembering that for thirty-five years!"  she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Fancy forgetting it!"  retorted Mr. Davis.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose she had a hot temper," said the old lady.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ot temper?"  said the other.  "Yes."  He leaned forward, and holding
+his chilled hands over the fire stood for some time deep in thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what it is," he said at last, "but there's a something
+about you that reminds me of her.  It ain't your voice, 'cos she had a
+very nice voice&mdash;when she wasn't in a temper&mdash;and it ain't your face,
+because&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"  said Mrs. Smith, sharply.  "Because it don't remind me of her."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet the other day you said you recognized me at once," said the old
+lady.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I did," said Mr. Davis.  "One thing is, I was expecting to see
+her, I s'pose."</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I won't keep you," said Mrs. Smith at last, "and it's no good for
+you to keep coming here to see her.  She will never come here again.
+I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you don't look over and above
+respectable.  Your coat is torn, your trousers are patched in a dozen
+places, and your boots are half off your feet&mdash;I don't know what the
+servant must think."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I only came to look for my wife," said Mr. Davis, in a startled
+voice.  "I won't come again."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," said the old lady.  "That'll please her, I know.  And if
+she should happen to ask what sort of a living you are making, what shall
+I tell her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her what you said about my clothes, ma'am," said Mr. Davis, with
+his hand on the door-knob.  "She'll understand then.  She's known wot it
+is to be poor herself.  She'd got a bad temper, but she'd have cut her
+tongue out afore she'd 'ave thrown a poor devil's rags in his face.
+Good-afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-afternoon, Ben," said the old woman, in a changed voice.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis, half-way through the door, started as though he had been shot,
+and, facing about, stood eyeing her in dumb bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave
+yourself?"</p>
+
+
+<a name="028"></a>
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="028.jpg (110K)" src="028.jpg" height="618" width="532">
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+<p>"It isn't the same voice and it isn't the same face," said the old woman;
+"but if I'd only got a broomhandle handy&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis made an odd noise in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>"If you hadn't been so down on your luck," said his wife, blinking her
+eyes rapidly, "I'd have let you go.  If you hadn't looked 'so miserable I
+could have stood it.  If I take you back, are you going to behave
+yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Davis stood gaping at her.</p>
+
+<p>"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, speaking very slowly, "are
+you going to behave yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mr. Davis, finding his voice at last.  "Yes, if you are."</p>
+
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: For Better or Worse
+       Ship's Company, Part 10.
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: January 1, 2004 [EBook #10570]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR BETTER OR WORSE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+SHIP'S COMPANY
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+FOR BETTER OR WORSE
+
+
+Mr. George Wotton, gently pushing the swing doors of the public bar of
+the "King's Head" an inch apart, applied an eye to the aperture, in the
+hope of discovering a moneyed friend.  His gaze fell on the only man in
+the bar a greybeard of sixty whose weather-beaten face and rough clothing
+spoke of the sea.  With a faint sigh he widened the opening and passed
+through.
+
+"Mornin', Ben," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
+
+"Have a drop with me," said the other, heartily.  "Got any money about
+you?"
+
+Mr. Wotton shook his head and his face fell, clearing somewhat as the
+other handed him his mug.  "Drink it all up, George," he said.
+
+His friend complied.  A more tactful man might have taken longer over the
+job, but Mr. Benjamin Davis, who appeared to be labouring under some
+strong excitement, took no notice.
+
+"I've had a shock, George," he said, regarding the other steadily.  "I've
+heard news of my old woman."
+
+"Didn't know you 'ad one," said Mr. Wotton calmly.  "Wot's she done?"
+
+"She left me," said Mr. Davis, solemnly--"she left me thirty-five years
+ago.  I went off to sea one fine morning, and that was the last I ever
+see of er.
+
+"Why, did she bolt?"  inquired Mr. Wotton, with mild interest.
+
+"No," said his friend, "but I did.  We'd been married three years--three
+long years--and I had 'ad enough of it.  Awful temper she had.  The last
+words I ever heard 'er say was: 'Take that!'"
+
+Mr. Wotton took up the mug and, after satisfying himself as to the
+absence of contents, put it down again and yawned.
+
+"I shouldn't worry about it if I was you," he remarked.  "She's hardly
+likely to find you now.  And if she does she won't get much."
+
+Mr. Davis gave vent to a contemptuous laugh.  "Get much!"  he repeated.
+"It's her what's got it.  I met a old shipmate of mine this morning what
+I 'adn't seen for ten years, and he told me he run acrost 'er only a
+month ago.  After she left me--"
+
+"But you said you left her!"  exclaimed his listening friend.
+
+"Same thing," said Mr. Davis, impatiently.  "After she left me to work
+myself to death at sea, running here and there at the orders of a pack
+o'lazy scuts aft, she went into service and stayed in one place for
+fifteen years.  Then 'er missis died and left her all 'er money.  For
+twenty years, while I've been working myself to skin and bone, she's been
+living in comfort and idleness."
+
+"'Ard lines," said Mr. Wotton, shaking his head.  "It don't bear thinking
+of."
+
+"Why didn't she advertise for me?"  said Mr. Davis, raising his voice.
+"That's what I want to know.  Advertisements is cheap enough; why didn't
+she advertise?  I should 'ave come at once if she'd said anything about
+money."
+
+Mr. Wotton shook his head again.  "P'r'aps she didn't want you," he said,
+slowly.
+
+"What's that got to do with it?"  demanded the other.  "It was 'er dooty.
+She'd got money, and I ought to have 'ad my 'arf of it.  Nothing can make
+up for that wasted twenty years--nothing."
+
+"P'r'aps she'll take you back," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+"Take me back?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "O' course she'll take me back.
+She'll have to.  There's a law in the land, ain't there?  What I'm
+thinking of is: Can I get back my share what I ought to have 'ad for the
+last twenty years?"
+
+"Get 'er to take you back first," counselled his friend.  "Thirty-five
+years is along time, and p'r'aps she has lost 'er love for you.  Was you
+good-looking in those days?"
+
+"Yes," snapped Mr. Davis; "I ain't altered much--.  'Sides, what about
+her?"
+
+"That ain't the question," said the other.  "She's got a home and money.
+It don't matter about looks; and, wot's more, she ain't bound to keep
+you.  If you take my advice, you won't dream of letting her know you run
+away from her.  Say you was cast away at sea, and when you came back
+years afterwards you couldn't find her."
+
+Mr. Davis pondered for some time in sulky silence.
+
+"P'r'aps it would be as well," he said at last; "but I sha'n't stand no
+nonsense, mind."
+
+"If you like I'll come with you," said Mr. Wotton.  "I ain't got nothing
+to do.  I could tell 'er I was cast away with you if you liked.  Anything
+to help a pal."
+
+Mr. Davis took two inches of soiled clay pipe from his pocket and puffed
+thoughtfully.
+
+"You can come," he said at last.  "If you'd only got a copper or two we
+could ride; it's down Clapham way."
+
+Mr. Wotton smiled feebly, and after going carefully through his pockets
+shook his head and followed his friend outside.
+
+"I wonder whether she'll be pleased?"  he remarked, as they walked slowly
+along.  "She might be--women are funny creatures--so faithful.  I knew
+one whose husband used to knock 'er about dreadful, and after he died she
+was so true to his memory she wouldn't marry again."
+
+Mr. Davis grunted, and, with a longing eye at the omnibuses passing over
+London Bridge, asked a policeman the distance to Clapham.
+
+"Never mind," said Mr. Wotton, as his friend uttered an exclamation.
+"You'll have money in your pocket soon."
+
+Mr. Davis's face brightened.  "And a watch and chain too," he said.
+
+"And smoke your cigar of a Sunday," said Mr. Wotton, "and have a easy-
+chair and a glass for a friend."
+
+Mr. Davis almost smiled, and then, suddenly remembering his wasted twenty
+years, shook his head grimly over the friendship that attached itself to
+easy-chairs and glasses of ale, and said that there was plenty of it
+about.  More friendship than glasses of ale and easy-chairs, perhaps.
+
+At Clapham, they inquired the way of a small boy, and, after following
+the road indicated, retraced their steps, cheered by a faint but
+bloodthirsty hope of meeting him again.
+
+A friendly baker put them on the right track at last, both gentlemen
+eyeing the road with a mixture of concern and delight.  It was a road of
+trim semi-detached villas, each with a well-kept front garden and neatly-
+curtained windows.  At the gate of a house with the word "Blairgowrie"
+inscribed in huge gilt letters on the fanlight Mr. Davis paused for a
+moment uneasily, and then, walking up the path, followed by Mr. Wotton,
+knocked at the door.
+
+He retired a step in disorder before the apparition of a maid in cap and
+apron.  A sharp "Not to-day!"  sounded in his ears and the door closed
+again.  He faced his friend gasping.
+
+"I should give her the sack first thing," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+Mr. Davis knocked again, and again.  The maid reappeared, and after
+surveying them through the glass opened the door a little way and
+parleyed.
+
+"I want to see your missis," said Mr. Davis, fiercely.
+
+"What for?"  demanded the girl.
+
+"You tell 'er," said Mr. Davis, inserting his foot just in time, "you
+tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have brought 'er news of
+her husband, and look sharp about it."
+
+"They was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.
+
+"On a desert island," said Mr. Davis.  He pushed his way in, followed by
+his friend, and a head that had been leaning over the banisters was
+suddenly withdrawn.  For a moment he stood irresolute in the tiny
+passage, and then, with a husband's boldness, he entered the front room
+and threw himself into an easy-chair.  Mr. Wotton, after a scared glance
+around the well-furnished room, seated himself on the extreme edge of the
+most uncomfortable chair he could find and coughed nervously.
+
+[Illustration: "You tell 'er that there's two gentlemen here what have
+brought 'er news of her husband"]
+
+"Better not be too sudden with her," he whispered.  "You don't want her
+to faint, or anything of that sort.  Don't let 'er know who you are at
+first; let her find it out for herself."
+
+Mr. Davis, who was also suffering from the stiff grandeur of his
+surroundings, nodded.
+
+"P'r'aps you'd better start, in case she reckernizes my voice," he said,
+slowly.  "Pitch it in strong about me and 'ow I was always wondering what
+had 'appened to her."
+
+"You're in luck, that's wot you are," said his friend, enviously.  "I've
+only seen furniture like thiss in shop windows before.  H'sh!  Here she
+comes."
+
+He started, and both men tried to look at their ease as a stiff rustling
+sounded from the stairs.  Then the door opened and a tall, stoutly-built
+old lady with white hair swept into the room and stood regarding them.
+
+Mr. Davis, unprepared for the changes wrought by thirty-five years,
+stared at her aghast.  The black silk dress, the gold watch-chain, and
+huge cameo brooch did not help to reassure him.
+
+"Good-good afternoon, ma'am," said Mr. Wotton, in a thin voice.
+
+The old lady returned the greeting, and, crossing to a chair and seating
+herself in a very upright fashion, regarded him calmly.
+
+"We--we called to see you about a dear old pal--friend, I mean,"
+continued Mr. Wotton; "one o' the best.  The best."
+
+"Yes?"  said the old lady.
+
+"He's been missing," said Mr. Wotton, watching closely for any symptoms
+of fainting, "for thir-ty-five years.  Thir-ty-five years ago-very much
+against his wish-he left 'is young and handsome wife to go for a sea
+v'y'ge, and was shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island."
+
+"Yes?"  said the old lady again.
+
+"I was cast away with 'im," said Mr. Wotton.  "Both of us was cast away
+with him."
+
+He indicated Mr. Davis with his hand, and the old lady, after a glance at
+that gentleman, turned to Mr. Wotton again.
+
+"We was on that island for longer than I like to think of," continued Mr.
+Wotton, who had a wholesome dread of dates.  "But we was rescued at last,
+and ever since then he has been hunting high and low for his wife."
+
+"It's very interesting," murmured the old lady; "but what has it got to
+do with me?"
+
+Mr. Wotton gasped, and cast a helpless glance at his friend.
+
+"You ain't heard his name yet," he said, impressively.  "Wot would you
+say if I said it was--Ben Davis?"
+
+"I should say it wasn't true," said the old lady, promptly.
+
+"Not--true?"  said Mr. Wotton, catching his breath painfully.  "Wish I
+may die----"
+
+"About the desert island," continued the old lady, calmly.  "The story
+that I heard was that he went off like a cur and left his young wife to
+do the best she could for herself.  I suppose he's heard since that she
+has come in for a bit of money."
+
+"Money!" repeated Mr. Wotton, in a voice that he fondly hoped expressed
+artless surprise.  "Money!"
+
+"Money," said the old lady; "and I suppose he sent you two gentlemen
+round to see how the land lay."
+
+She was looking full at Mr. Davis as she spoke, and both men began to
+take a somewhat sombre view of the situation.
+
+"You didn't know him, else you wouldn't talk like that," said Mr. Wotton.
+"I don't suppose you'd know 'im if you was to see him now."
+
+"I don't suppose I should," said the other.
+
+"P'r'aps you'd reckernize his voice?"  said Mr. Davis, breaking silence
+at last.
+
+Mr. Wotton held his breath, but the old lady merely shook her head
+thoughtfully.  "It was a disagreeable voice when his wife used to hear
+it," she said at last.  "Always fault-finding, when it wasn't swearing."
+
+Mr. Wotton glanced at his friend, and, raising his eyebrows slightly,
+gave up his task.  "Might ha' been faults on both sides," said Mr. Davis,
+gruffly.  "You weren't all that you should ha' been, you know."
+
+"Me!" said his hostess, raising her voice.
+
+[Illustration: "Don't you know me, Mary?"]
+
+"Yes, you," said Mr. Davis, rising.  "Don't you know me, Mary?  Why, I
+knew you the moment you come into the room."
+
+He moved towards her awkwardly, but she rose in her turn and drew back.
+
+"If you touch me I'll scream," she said, firmly.  "How dare you.  Why,
+I've never seen you before in my life."
+
+"It's Ben Davis, ma'am; it's 'im, right enough," said Mr. Wotton, meekly.
+
+"Hold your tongue," said the old lady.
+
+"Look at me!"  commanded Mr. Davis, sternly.  "Look at me straight in the
+eye."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense," said the other, sharply.  "Look you in the eye,
+indeed!  I don't want to look in your eye.  What would people think?"
+
+"Let 'em think wot they like," said Mr. Davis, recklessly.  "This is a
+nice home-coming after being away thirty-five years."
+
+"Most of it on a desert island," put in Mr. Wotton, pathetically.
+
+"And now I've come back," resumed Mr. Davis; "come back to stop."
+
+He hung his cap on a vase on the mantelpiece that reeled under the shock,
+and, dropping into his chair again, crossed his legs and eyed her
+sternly.  Her gaze was riveted on his dilapidated boots.  She looked up
+and spoke mildly.
+
+"You're not my husband," she said.  "You've made a mistake--I think you
+had better go."
+
+"Ho!"  said Mr. Davis, with a hard laugh.  "Indeed!  And 'ow do you know
+I'm not?"
+
+"For the best of reasons," was the reply.  "Besides, how can you prove
+that you are?  Thirty-five years is a long time."
+
+"'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly.  "You'd be
+surprised 'ow slow the time passes.  I was there with 'im, and I can lay
+my hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."
+
+"Nonsense!"  said the old lady, vigorously.  "Rubbish!"
+
+"I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye.  "Do
+you remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"
+
+"If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for the
+police."
+
+"You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully.  "I remember
+once----"
+
+"If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll send
+straight off for the police.  You and your serpents!  I'll tell my
+husband of you, that's what I'll do."
+
+"Your WHAT?"  roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.
+
+"My husband.  He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you.  You'd
+better go before he comes in."
+
+"O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath.  "Oh, so you been and got
+married again, 'ave you?  That's your love for your husband as was cast
+away while trying to earn a living for you.  That's why you don't want
+me, is it?  We'll see.  I'll wait for him."
+
+"You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with great
+dignity.  "I've only been married once."
+
+Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashion
+and stared at her.
+
+"Is--is somebody passing himself off as me?"  he demanded.  "'Cos if he
+is I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"But--but--"
+
+Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend.  Mr. Wotton met his
+gaze with dilated eyes.
+
+"You say you recognize me as your wife?"  said the old lady.
+
+"Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.
+
+"It's very curious," said the other--"very.  But are you sure?  Look
+again."
+
+Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard.  She bore his
+scrutiny without flinching.
+
+"I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.
+
+"That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are a
+bit alike.  You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her house
+for a bit.  My name happens to be Smith."
+
+Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, stared
+at her open-mouthed.
+
+"We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long silence, "and
+Ben's sight ain't wot it used to be.  He strained it looking out for a
+sail when we was on that desert----"
+
+"When--when'll she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, finding his voice at
+last.
+
+The old lady affected to look puzzled.  "But I thought you were certain
+that I was your wife?"  she said, smoothly.
+
+"My mistake," said Mr. Davis, ruefully.  "Thirty-five years is a long
+time and people change a bit; I have myself.  For one thing, I must say
+I didn't expect to find 'er so stout."
+
+"Stout!"  repeated the other, quickly.
+
+"Not that I mean you're too stout," said Mr. Davis, hurriedly--"for
+people that like stoutness, that is.  My wife used to 'ave a very good
+figger."
+
+Mr. Wotton nodded.  "He used to rave about it on that des----"
+
+"When will she be back?"  inquired Mr. Davis, interrupting him.
+
+Mrs. Smith shook her head.  "I can't say," she replied, moving towards
+the door.  "When she's off holidaying, I never know when she'll return.
+Shall I tell her you called?"
+
+"Tell her I----certainly," said Mr. Davis, with great vehemence.  "I'll
+come in a week's time and see if she's back."
+
+"She might be away for months," said the old lady, moving slowly to the
+passage and opening the street door.  "Good-afternoon."
+
+She closed the door behind them and stood watching them through the glass
+as they passed disconsolately into the street.  Then she went back into
+the parlour, and standing before the mantelpiece, looked long and
+earnestly into the mirror.
+
+Mr. Davis returned a week later--alone, and, pausing at the gate, glanced
+in dismay at a bill in the window announcing that the house was to be
+sold.  He walked up the path still looking at it, and being admitted by
+the trim servant was shown into the parlour, and stood in a dispirited
+fashion before Mrs. Smith.
+
+"Not back yet?"  he inquired, gruffly.
+
+The old lady shook her head.
+
+"What--what--is that bill for?"  demanded Mr. Davis, jerking his thumb
+towards it.
+
+"She is thinking of selling the house," said Mrs. Smith.  "I let her know
+you had been, and that is, the result.  She won't comeback.  You won't
+see her again."
+
+"Where is she?"  inquired Mr. Davis, frowning.
+
+Mrs. Smith shook her head again.  "And it would be no use my telling
+you," she said.  "What she has got is her own, and the law won't let you
+touch a penny of it without her consent.  You must have treated her
+badly; why did you leave her?"
+
+"Why?"  repeated Mr. Davis.  "Why?  Why, because she hit me over the 'ead
+with a broom-handle."
+
+Mrs. Smith tossed her head.
+
+"Fancy you remembering that for thirty-five years!"  she said.
+
+"Fancy forgetting it!"  retorted Mr. Davis.
+
+"I suppose she had a hot temper," said the old lady.
+
+"'Ot temper?"  said the other.  "Yes."  He leaned forward, and holding
+his chilled hands over the fire stood for some time deep in thought.
+
+"I don't know what it is," he said at last, "but there's a something
+about you that reminds me of her.  It ain't your voice, 'cos she had a
+very nice voice--when she wasn't in a temper--and it ain't your face,
+because--"
+
+"Yes?"  said Mrs. Smith, sharply.  "Because it don't remind me of her."
+
+"And yet the other day you said you recognized me at once," said the old
+lady.
+
+"I thought I did," said Mr. Davis.  "One thing is, I was expecting to see
+her, I s'pose."
+
+There was a long silence.
+
+"Well, I won't keep you," said Mrs. Smith at last, "and it's no good for
+you to keep coming here to see her.  She will never come here again.
+I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you don't look over and above
+respectable.  Your coat is torn, your trousers are patched in a dozen
+places, and your boots are half off your feet--I don't know what the
+servant must think."
+
+"I--I only came to look for my wife," said Mr. Davis, in a startled
+voice.  "I won't come again."
+
+"That's right," said the old lady.  "That'll please her, I know.  And if
+she should happen to ask what sort of a living you are making, what shall
+I tell her?"
+
+"Tell her what you said about my clothes, ma'am," said Mr. Davis, with
+his hand on the door-knob.  "She'll understand then.  She's known wot it
+is to be poor herself.  She'd got a bad temper, but she'd have cut her
+tongue out afore she'd 'ave thrown a poor devil's rags in his face.
+Good-afternoon."
+
+"Good-afternoon, Ben," said the old woman, in a changed voice.
+
+Mr. Davis, half-way through the door, started as though he had been shot,
+and, facing about, stood eyeing her in dumb bewilderment.
+
+"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, "are you going to behave
+yourself?"
+
+"It isn't the same voice and it isn't the same face," said the old woman;
+"but if I'd only got a broomhandle handy----"
+
+Mr. Davis made an odd noise in his throat.
+
+"If you hadn't been so down on your luck," said his wife, blinking her
+eyes rapidly, "I'd have let you go.  If you hadn't looked 'so miserable I
+could have stood it.  If I take you back, are you going to behave
+yourself?"
+
+Mr. Davis stood gaping at her.
+
+"If I take you back again," repeated his wife, speaking very slowly, "are
+you going to behave yourself?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Davis, finding his voice at last.  "Yes, if you are."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of For Better or Worse, by W.W. Jacobs
+
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