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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:35:12 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:35:12 -0700 |
| commit | 72e50ef1ad0b03ccc02e8409d7f1b301ff0792fa (patch) | |
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diff --git a/10793-h/10793-h.htm b/10793-h/10793-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..666c007 --- /dev/null +++ b/10793-h/10793-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8449 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta content="pg2html (binary version 0.12a)" name="linkgenerator" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sailors' Knots, by W.w. Jacobs. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 2em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-family: Times; font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + // +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10793 ***</div> + <h1> + SAILORS' KNOTS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By W.W. Jacobs + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + 1909 + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="title (50K)" src="images/title.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_1"> DESERTED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_2"> HOMEWARD BOUND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_3"> SELF-HELP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_4"> SENTENCE DEFERRED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_5"> “MATRIMONIAL OPENINGS” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_6"> ODD MAN OUT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_7"> “THE TOLL-HOUSE” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_8"> PETER'S PENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_9"> THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_10"> PRIZE MONEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_11"> DOUBLE DEALING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_12"> KEEPING UP APPEARANCES </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>ILLUSTRATIONS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-1"> He Seemed to Take a Fancy To Rupert from the Fust. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-2"> An Elderly Old Party Wot Would Keep Jabbing 'im in + The Ribs With Her Umbrella. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-3"> “Back!” Ses Rupert in a Whisper, Pointing. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-4"> She Stood Blocking up the Doorway With Her 'ands + on Her 'ips. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-5"> Taking One of the Vases from The Mantelpiece, he + Dashed It To Pieces on the Fender. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-6"> “I Called About the Bill in The Window.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-7"> “'I—i Thought I Smelled Something Cooking,' + he Said.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-8"> “'K-k-k-kch! K-kch!' he Said, Explosively.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-9"> “''E Comes Along and Hits You over Your Tenderest + Corn With a Oar.'” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-10"> “Mr. Cubbins Winked at 'im and Tapped 'is Nose.” + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-11"> “Let Drive With All his Might in 'is Face. “ </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-12"> “'Wot on Earth's the Matter, Ginger?'” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-13"> “An Elderly Man With a Wooden Leg, Who Joined The + Indignant Officer in the Pursuit.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-14"> “He Was Administering First Aid to a Right Leg.” + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-15"> “She Took up a Handful of Coal-dust And, Ordering + Him To Stoop, Shampooed Him With Hearty Good-will.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-16"> “Give This to the Skipper, Will You, My Lad?” + Said The Sergeant. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-17"> “Miss Dowson, Subsiding in Her Chair, Went on + With Her Book.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-18"> “I Just Came in to Tell You a Joke.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-19"> “He Edged his Chair a Little Nearer to Flora.” + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-20"> “Mr. Foss Bade Them Good-night Suddenly.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-21"> “She Muttered Some Strange Words and Bent Her + Head Lower Over the Girl's Hand.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-22"> “Friendship, he Said, Decidedly, is a Deloosion + and A Snare.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-23"> “When They Turned up They Found Emma and 'er + Friend Waiting for Them.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-24"> “He Put his Arm Round Mrs. Jennings's Waist and + Made 'er Dance to a Piano-organ.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-25"> “He Was Running Down the Road Without 'is Hat As + Hard As He Could Run.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-26"> “I'm a Poor Man, But I Wouldn't Spend the Night + in That House for a Hundred Pounds.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-27"> “They Saw the Gates of The House Before Them.” + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-28"> “Barnes, Stood Peering at the Sleepers in Silence + And Dropping Tallow over the Floor.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-29"> “Into a Vast Bare Kitchen With Damp Walls and A + Broken Floor.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-30"> “All Three Stood Gazing at the Dead Man Below.” + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-31"> “Put a Bishop in My Clothes, and You'd Ask 'im to + 'ave A 'arf-pint As Soon As You Would Me.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-32"> “Mr. Goodman Came in a Four-wheel Cab With A Big + Bag and A Fat Umbrella.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-33"> “'It Aint So 'orrid As I 'ad Fancied.' Ses Sam.” + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-34"> “He Reached Acrost the Table and Shook 'ands With + Peter.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-35"> “After Some Years Spent in Long Voyages” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-36"> “Then and There Mr. Letts's Mind Was Made Up. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-37"> “A Disagreeable-looking Man Was Eying Them in + Some Astonishment from the Doorway.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-38"> “What's Mine is Mother's.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-39"> “The Sign of the Cauliflower Was Stiff With + Snow.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-40"> “He's Won It!” he Ses, in a Choky Voice. “it's + Number 1.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-41"> “The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came + Staggering In.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-42"> “'Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud + Voice.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-43"> “Stood on the Spacious Common, Inhaling The Salt + Smell Of The Sea Below.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-44"> “An Elderly Boatman, Who, After Looking at Him + Hard, Took His Pipe from his Mouth and Bade Him 'good-evening.'” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-45"> “She Piled Mr. Carter's Plate up So Generously + That Her Father and Brother Had Ample Time at Their Disposal to Watch Him + Eat.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-46"> “A Gentleman of Middle Age Was Peeping Round the + Door.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-47"> “Superstitiousness is Right and Proper, to a + Certain Extent.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-48"> “Silas Was Very Perlite at Fust.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-49"> “She Saw Silas Winch Standing at the Foot of The + Bed.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-50"> “With Tears in his Eyes 'e Emptied a Little + Barrel O' Beer Down the Sink.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkimage-51"> “Other wimmen 'as to be satisfied looking at new + 'ats.” </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_1" id="link2H_4_1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + DESERTED + </h2> + <p> + “Sailormen ain't wot you might call dandyfied as a rule,” said the + night-watchman, who had just had a passage of arms with a lighterman and + been advised to let somebody else wash him and make a good job of it; + “they've got too much sense. They leave dressing up and making eyesores of + theirselves to men wot 'ave never smelt salt water; men wot drift up and + down the river in lighters and get in everybody's way.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced fiercely at the retreating figure of the lighterman, and, + turning a deaf ear to a request for a lock of his hair to patch a favorite + doormat with, resumed with much vigor his task of sweeping up the litter. + </p> + <p> + The most dressy sailorman I ever knew, he continued, as he stood the broom + up in a corner and seated himself on a keg, was a young feller named + Rupert Brown. His mother gave 'im the name of Rupert while his father was + away at sea, and when he came 'ome it was too late to alter it. All that a + man could do he did do, and Mrs. Brown 'ad a black eye till 'e went to sea + agin. She was a very obstinate woman, though—like most of 'em—and + a little over a year arterwards got pore old Brown three months' hard by + naming 'er next boy Roderick Alfonso. + </p> + <p> + Young Rupert was on a barge when I knew 'im fust, but he got tired of + always 'aving dirty hands arter a time, and went and enlisted as a + soldier. I lost sight of 'im for a while, and then one evening he turned + up on furlough and come to see me. + </p> + <p> + O' course, by this time 'e was tired of soldiering, but wot upset 'im more + than anything was always 'aving to be dressed the same and not being able + to wear a collar and neck-tie. He said that if it wasn't for the sake of + good old England, and the chance o' getting six months, he'd desert. I + tried to give 'im good advice, and, if I'd only known 'ow I was to be + dragged into it, I'd ha' given 'im a lot more. + </p> + <p> + As it 'appened he deserted the very next arternoon. He was in the Three + Widders at Aldgate, in the saloon bar—which is a place where you get + a penn'orth of ale in a glass and pay twopence for it—and, arter + being told by the barmaid that she had got one monkey at 'ome, he got into + conversation with another man wot was in there. + </p> + <p> + He was a big man with a black moustache and a red face, and 'is fingers + all smothered in di'mond rings. He 'ad got on a gold watch-chain as thick + as a rope, and a scarf-pin the size of a large walnut, and he had 'ad a + few words with the barmaid on 'is own account. He seemed to take a fancy + to Rupert from the fust, and in a few minutes he 'ad given 'im a big cigar + out of a sealskin case and ordered 'im a glass of sherry wine. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-1" id="linkimage-1"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/001.jpg" width="100%" + alt="He Seemed to Take a Fancy To Rupert from the Fust. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Have you ever thought o' going on the stage?” he ses, arter Rupert 'ad + told 'im of his dislike for the Army. + </p> + <p> + “No,” ses Rupert, staring. + </p> + <p> + “You s'prise me,” ses the big man; “you're wasting of your life by not + doing so.” + </p> + <p> + “But I can't act,” ses Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Stuff and nonsense!” ses the big man. “Don't tell me. You've got an + actor's face. I'm a manager myself, and I know. I don't mind telling you + that I refused twenty-three men and forty-eight ladies only yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder you don't drop down dead,” ses the barmaid, lifting up 'is glass + to wipe down the counter. + </p> + <p> + The manager looked at her, and, arter she 'ad gone to talk to a gentleman + in the next bar wot was knocking double knocks on the counter with a pint + pot, he whispered to Rupert that she 'ad been one of them. + </p> + <p> + “She can't act a bit,” he ses. “Now, look 'ere; I'm a business man and my + time is valuable. I don't know nothing, and I don't want to know nothing; + but, if a nice young feller, like yourself, for example, was tired of the + Army and wanted to escape, I've got one part left in my company that 'ud + suit 'im down to the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot about being reckernized?” ses Rupert. + </p> + <p> + The manager winked at 'im. “It's the part of a Zulu chief,” he ses, in a + whisper. + </p> + <p> + Rupert started. “But I should 'ave to black my face,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “A little,” ses the manager; “but you'd soon get on to better parts—and + see wot a fine disguise it is.” + </p> + <p> + He stood 'im two more glasses o' sherry wine, and, arter he' ad drunk 'em, + Rupert gave way. The manager patted 'im on the back, and said that if he + wasn't earning fifty pounds a week in a year's time he'd eat his 'ead; and + the barmaid, wot 'ad come back agin, said it was the best thing he could + do with it, and she wondered he 'adn't thought of it afore. + </p> + <p> + They went out separate, as the manager said it would be better for them + not to be seen together, and Rupert, keeping about a dozen yards behind, + follered 'im down the Mile End Road. By and by the manager stopped outside + a shop-window wot 'ad been boarded up and stuck all over with savages + dancing and killing white people and hunting elephants, and, arter turning + round and giving Rupert a nod, opened the door with a key and went inside. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” he ses, as Rupert follered 'im in. “This is my wife, + Mrs. Alfredi,” he ses, introducing 'im to a fat, red-'aired lady wot was + sitting inside sewing. “She has performed before all the crowned 'eads of + Europe. That di'mond brooch she's wearing was a present from the Emperor + of Germany, but, being a married man, he asked 'er to keep it quiet.” + </p> + <p> + Rupert shook 'ands with Mrs. Alfredi, and then her 'usband led 'im to a + room at the back, where a little lame man was cleaning up things, and told + 'im to take his clothes off. + </p> + <p> + “If they was mine,” he ses, squinting at the fire-place, “I should know + wot to do with 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Rupert laughed and slapped 'im on the back, and, arter cutting his uniform + into pieces, stuffed it into the fireplace and pulled the dampers out. He + burnt up 'is boots and socks and everything else, and they all three + laughed as though it was the best joke in the world. Then Mr. Alfredi took + his coat off and, dipping a piece of rag into a basin of stuff wot George + 'ad fetched, did Rupert a lovely brown all over. + </p> + <p> + “That's the fust coat,” he ses. “Now take a stool in front of the fire and + let it soak in.” + </p> + <p> + He gave 'im another coat arf an hour arterwards, while George curled his + 'air, and when 'e was dressed in bracelets round 'is ankles and wrists, + and a leopard-skin over his shoulder, he was as fine a Zulu as you could + wish for to see. His lips was naturally thick and his nose flat, and even + his eyes 'appened to be about the right color. + </p> + <p> + “He's a fair perfect treat,” ses Mr. Alfredi. “Fetch Kumbo in, George.” + </p> + <p> + The little man went out, and came back agin shoving in a fat, stumpy Zulu + woman wot began to grin and chatter like a poll-parrot the moment she saw + Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” ses Mr. Alfredi; “she's took a fancy to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Is—is she an actress?” ses Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “One o' the best,” ses the manager. “She'll teach you to dance and shy + assegais. Pore thing! she buried her 'usband the day afore we come here, + but you'll be surprised to see 'ow skittish she can be when she has got + over it a bit.” + </p> + <p> + They sat there while Rupert practised—till he started shying the + assegais, that is—and then they went out and left 'im with Kumbo. + Considering that she 'ad only just buried her 'usband, Rupert found her + quite skittish enough, and he couldn't 'elp wondering wot she'd be like + when she'd got over her grief a bit more. + </p> + <p> + The manager and George said he 'ad got on wonderfully, and arter talking + it over with Mrs. Alfredi they decided to open that evening, and pore + Rupert found out that the shop was the theatre, and all the acting he'd + got to do was to dance war-dances and sing in Zulu to people wot had paid + a penny a 'ead. He was a bit nervous at fust, for fear anybody should find + out that 'e wasn't a real Zulu, because the manager said they'd tear 'im + to pieces if they did, and eat 'im arterwards, but arter a time 'is + nervousness wore off and he jumped about like a monkey. + </p> + <p> + They gave performances every arf hour from ha'-past six to ten, and Rupert + felt ready to drop. His feet was sore with dancing and his throat ached + with singing Zulu, but wot upset 'im more than anything was an elderly old + party wot would keep jabbing 'im in the ribs with her umbrella to see + whether he could laugh. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-2" id="linkimage-2"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/002.jpg" width="100%" + alt="An Elderly Old Party Wot Would Keep Jabbing 'im in The Ribs With Her Umbrella. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + They 'ad supper arter they 'ad closed, and then Mr. Alfredi and 'is wife + went off, and Rupert and George made up beds for themselves in the shop, + while Kumbo 'ad a little place to herself at the back. + </p> + <p> + He did better than ever next night, and they all said he was improving + fast; and Mr. Alfredi told 'im in a whisper that he thought he was better + at it than Kumbo. “Not that I should mind 'er knowing much,” he ses, + “seeing that she's took such a fancy to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I was going to speak to you about that,” ses Rupert. “Forwardness is + no name for it; if she don't keep 'erself to 'erself, I shall chuck the + whole thing up.” + </p> + <p> + The manager coughed behind his 'and. “And go back to the Army?” he ses. + “Well, I should be sorry to lose you, but I won't stand in your way.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Alfredi, wot was standing by, stuffed her pocket-'ankercher in 'er + mouth, and Rupert began to feel a bit uneasy in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “If I did,” he ses, “you'd get into trouble for 'elping me to desert.” + </p> + <p> + “Desert!” ses Mr. Alfredi. “I don't know anything about your deserting.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” ses Rupert. “And wot about my uniform?” + </p> + <p> + “Uniform?” ses Mr. Alfredi. “Wot uniform? I ain't seen no uniform. Where + is it?” + </p> + <p> + Rupert didn't answer 'im, but arter they 'ad gone 'ome he told George that + he 'ad 'ad enough of acting and he should go. + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” ses George. + </p> + <p> + “I'll find somewhere,” ses Rupert. “I sha'n't starve.” + </p> + <p> + “You might ketch your death o' cold, though,” ses George. + </p> + <p> + Rupert said he didn't mind, and then he shut 'is eyes and pretended to be + asleep. His idea was to wait till George was asleep and then pinch 'is + clothes; consequently 'is feelings when 'e opened one eye and saw George + getting into bed with 'is clothes on won't bear thinking about. He laid + awake for hours, and three times that night George, who was a very heavy + sleeper, woke up and found Rupert busy tucking him in. + </p> + <p> + By the end of the week Rupert was getting desperate. He hated being black + for one thing, and the more he washed the better color he looked. He + didn't mind the black for out o' doors, in case the Army was looking for + 'im, but 'aving no clothes he couldn't get out o' doors; and when he said + he wouldn't perform unless he got some, Mr. Alfredi dropped 'ints about + having 'im took up for a deserter. + </p> + <p> + “I've 'ad my suspicions of it for some days,” he ses, with a wink, “though + you did come to me in a nice serge suit and tell me you was an actor. Now, + you be a good boy for another week and I'll advance you a couple o' pounds + to get some clothes with.” + </p> + <p> + Rupert asked him to let 'im have it then, but 'e wouldn't, and for another + week he 'ad to pretend 'e was a Zulu of an evening, and try and persuade + Kumbo that he was an English gentleman of a daytime. + </p> + <p> + He got the money at the end of the week and 'ad to sign a paper to give a + month's notice any time he wanted to leave, but he didn't mind that at + all, being determined the fust time he got outside the place to run away + and ship as a nigger cook if 'e couldn't get the black off. + </p> + <p> + He made a list o' things out for George to get for 'im, but there seemed + to be such a lot for two pounds that Mr. Alfredi shook his 'ead over it; + and arter calling 'imself a soft-'arted fool, and saying he'd finish up in + the workhouse, he made it three pounds and told George to look sharp. + </p> + <p> + “He's a very good marketer,” he ses, arter George 'ad gone; “he don't mind + wot trouble he takes. He'll very likely haggle for hours to get sixpence + knocked off the trousers or twopence off the shirt.” + </p> + <p> + It was twelve o'clock in the morning when George went, and at ha'-past + four Rupert turned nasty, and said 'e was afraid he was trying to get them + for nothing. At five o'clock he said George was a fool, and at ha'-past he + said 'e was something I won't repeat. + </p> + <p> + It was just eleven o'clock, and they 'ad shut up for the night, when the + front door opened, and George stood there smiling at 'em and shaking his + 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “Sush a lark,” he ses, catching 'old of Mr. Alfredi's arm to steady + 'imself. “I gave 'im shlip.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot d'ye mean?” ses the manager, shaking him off. “Gave who the slip? + Where's them clothes?” + </p> + <p> + “Boy's got 'em,” ses George, smiling agin and catching hold of Kumbo's + arm. “Sush a lark; he's been car-carrying 'em all day—all day. Now + I've given 'im the—the shlip, 'stead o'—'stead o' giving 'im + fourpence. Take care o' the pensh, an' pouns—” + </p> + <p> + He let go o' Kumbo's arm, turned round twice, and then sat down 'eavy and + fell fast asleep. The manager rushed to the door and looked out, but there + was no signs of the boy, and he came back shaking his 'ead, and said that + George 'ad been drinking agin. + </p> + <p> + “Well, wot about my clothes?” ses Rupert, hardly able to speak. + </p> + <p> + “P'r'aps he didn't buy 'em arter all,” ses the manager. “Let's try 'is + pockets.” + </p> + <p> + He tried fust, and found some strawberries that George 'ad spoilt by + sitting on. Then he told Rupert to have a try, and Rupert found some bits + of string, a few buttons, two penny stamps, and twopence ha'penny in + coppers. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” ses Mr. Alfredi; “I'll go round to the police-station in the + morning; p'r'aps the boy 'as taken them there. I'm disapp'inted in George. + I shall tell 'im so, too.” + </p> + <p> + He bid Rupert good-night and went off with Mrs. Alfredi; and Rupert, + wishful to make the best o' things, decided that he would undress George + and go off in 'is clothes. He waited till Kumbo 'ad gone off to bed, and + then he started to take George's coat off. He got the two top buttons + undone all right, and then George turned over in 'is sleep. It surprised + Rupert, but wot surprised 'im more when he rolled George over was to find + them two buttons done up agin. Arter it had 'appened three times he see + 'ow it was, and he come to the belief that George was no more drunk than + wot he was, and that it was all a put-up thing between 'im and Mr. + Alfredi. + </p> + <p> + He went to bed then to think it over, and by the morning he 'ad made up + his mind to keep quiet and bide his time, as the saying is. He spoke quite + cheerful to Mr. Alfredi, and pretended to believe 'im when he said that he + 'ad been to the police-station about the clothes. + </p> + <p> + Two days arterwards he thought of something; he remembered me. He 'ad + found a dirty old envelope on the floor, and with a bit o' lead pencil he + wrote me a letter on the back of one o' the bills, telling me all his + troubles, and asking me to bring some clothes and rescue 'im. He stuck on + one of the stamps he 'ad found in George's pocket, and opening the door + just afore going to bed threw it out on the pavement. + </p> + <p> + The world is full of officious, interfering busy-bodies. I should no more + think of posting a letter that didn't belong to me, with an unused stamp + on it, than I should think o' flying; but some meddle-some son of a + ——a gun posted that letter and I got it. + </p> + <p> + I was never more surprised in my life. He asked me to be outside the shop + next night at ha'-past eleven with any old clothes I could pick up. If I + didn't, he said he should 'ang 'imself as the clock struck twelve, and + that his ghost would sit on the wharf and keep watch with me every night + for the rest o' my life. He said he expected it 'ud have a black face, + same as in life. + </p> + <p> + A wharf is a lonely place of a night; especially our wharf, which is full + of dark corners, and, being a silly, good-natured fool, I went. I got a + pal off of one of the boats to keep watch for me, and, arter getting some + old rags off of another sailorman as owed me arf a dollar, I 'ad a drink + and started off for the Mile End Road. + </p> + <p> + I found the place easy enough. The door was just on the jar, and as I + tapped on it with my finger-nails a wild-looking black man, arf naked, + opened it and said “H'sh!” and pulled me inside. There was a bit o' candle + on the floor, shaded by a box, and a man fast asleep and snoring up in one + corner. Rupert dressed like lightning, and he 'ad just put on 'is cap when + the door at the back opened and a 'orrid fat black woman came out and + began to chatter. + </p> + <p> + Rupert told her to hush, and she 'ushed, and then he waved 'is hand to 'er + to say “good-bye,” and afore you could say Jack Robinson she 'ad grabbed + up a bit o' dirty blanket, a bundle of assegais, and a spear, and come out + arter us. + </p> + <p> + “Back!” ses Rupert in a whisper, pointing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-3" id="linkimage-3"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/003.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Back!' Ses Rupert in a Whisper, Pointing. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Kumbo shook her 'ead, and then he took hold of 'er and tried to shove 'er + back, but she wouldn't go. I lent him a 'and, but all wimmen are the same, + black or white, and afore I knew where I was she 'ad clawed my cap off and + scratched me all down one side of the face. + </p> + <p> + “Walk fast,” ses Rupert. + </p> + <p> + I started to run, but it was all no good; Kumbo kept up with us easy, and + she was so pleased at being out in the open air that she began to dance + and play about like a kitten. Instead o' minding their own business people + turned and follered us, and quite a crowd collected. + </p> + <p> + “We shall 'ave the police in a minute,” ses Rupert. “Come in 'ere— + quick.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to a pub up a side street, and went in with Kumbo holding on to + his arm. The barman was for sending us out at fust, but such a crowd + follered us in that he altered 'is mind. I ordered three pints, and, while + I was 'anding Rupert his, Kumbo finished 'ers and began on mine. I tried + to explain, but she held on to it like grim death, and in the confusion + Rupert slipped out. + </p> + <p> + He 'adn't been gone five seconds afore she missed 'im, and I never see + anybody so upset in all my life. She spilt the beer all down the place + where 'er bodice ought to ha' been, and then she dropped the pot and went + arter 'im like a hare. I follered in a different way, and when I got round + the corner I found she 'ad caught 'im and was holding 'im by the arm. + </p> + <p> + O' course, the crowd was round us agin, and to get rid of 'em I did a + thing I'd seldom done afore—I called a cab, and we all bundled in + and drove off to the wharf, with the spear sticking out o' the window, and + most of the assegais sticking into me. + </p> + <p> + “This is getting serious,” ses Rupert. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I ses; “and wot 'ave I done to be dragged into it? You must ha' + been paying 'er some attention to make 'er carry on like this.” + </p> + <p> + I thought Rupert would ha' bust, and the things he said to the man wot was + spending money like water to rescue 'im was disgraceful. + </p> + <p> + We got to the wharf at last, and I was glad to see that my pal 'ad got + tired of night-watching and 'ad gone off, leaving the gate open. Kumbo + went in 'anging on to Rupert's arm, and I follered with the spear, which I + 'ad held in my 'and while I paid the cabman. + </p> + <p> + They went into the office, and Rupert and me talked it over while Kumbo + kept patting 'is cheek. He was afraid that the manager would track 'im to + the wharf, and I was afraid that the guv'nor would find out that I 'ad + been neglecting my dooty, for the fust time in my life. + </p> + <p> + We talked all night pretty near, and then, at ha'-past five, arf an hour + afore the 'ands came on, I made up my mind to fetch a cab and drive 'em to + my 'ouse. I wanted Rupert to go somewhere else, but 'e said he 'ad got + nowhere else to go, and it was the only thing to get 'em off the wharf. I + opened the gates at ten minutes to six, and just as the fust man come on + and walked down the wharf we slipped in and drove away. + </p> + <p> + We was all tired and yawning. There's something about the motion of a cab + or an omnibus that always makes me feel sleepy, and arter a time I closed + my eyes and went off sound. I remember I was dreaming that I 'ad found a + bag o' money, when the cab pulled up with a jerk in front of my 'ouse and + woke me up. Opposite me sat Kumbo fast asleep, and Rupert 'ad disappeared! + </p> + <p> + I was dazed for a moment, and afore I could do anything Kumbo woke up and + missed Rupert. Wot made matters worse than anything was that my missis was + kneeling down in the passage doing 'er door-step, and 'er face, as I got + down out o' that cab with Kumbo 'anging on to my arm was something too + awful for words. It seemed to rise up slow-like from near the door-step, + and to go on rising till I thought it 'ud never stop. And every inch it + rose it got worse and worse to look at. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-4" id="linkimage-4"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/004.jpg" width="100%" + alt="She Stood Blocking up the Doorway With Her 'ands on Her 'ips. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + She stood blocking up the doorway with her 'ands on her 'ips, while I + explained, with Kumbo still 'anging on my arm and a crowd collecting + behind, and the more I explained, the more I could see she didn't believe + a word of it. + </p> + <p> + She never 'as believed it. I sent for Mr. Alfredi to come and take Kumbo + away, and when I spoke to 'im about Rupert he said I was dreaming, and + asked me whether I wasn't ashamed o' myself for carrying off a pore black + gal wot 'ad got no father or mother to look arter her. He said that afore + my missis, and my character 'as been under a cloud ever since, waiting for + Rupert to turn up and clear it away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_2" id="link2H_4_2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + HOMEWARD BOUND + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard's conversation for nearly a week had been confined to + fault-finding and grunts, a system of treatment designed to wean Mrs. + Hatchard from her besetting sin of extravagance. On other occasions the + treatment had, for short periods, proved successful, but it was quite + evident that his wife's constitution was becoming inured to this physic + and required a change of treatment. The evidence stared at him from the + mantelpiece in the shape of a pair of huge pink vases, which had certainly + not been there when he left in the morning. He looked at them and breathed + heavily. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty, ain't they?” said his wife, nodding at them. + </p> + <p> + “Who gave 'em to you?” inquired Mr. Hatchard, sternly. + </p> + <p> + His wife shook her head. “You don't get vases like that given to you,” she + said, slowly. “Leastways, I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you bought 'em?” demanded her husband. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard nodded. + </p> + <p> + “After all I said to you about wasting my money?” persisted Mr. Hatchard, + in amazed accents. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard nodded, more brightly than before. + </p> + <p> + “There has got to be an end to this!” said her husband, desperately. “I + won't have it! D'ye hear? I won't—have—it!” + </p> + <p> + “I bought 'em with my own money,” said his wife, tossing her head. + </p> + <p> + “Your money?” said Mr. Hatchard. “To hear you talk anybody 'ud think you'd + got three hundred a year, instead o' thirty. Your money ought to be spent + in useful things, same as what mine is. Why should I spend my money + keeping you, while you waste yours on pink vases and having friends in to + tea?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard's still comely face took on a deeper tinge. + </p> + <p> + “Keeping me?” she said, sharply. “You'd better stop before you say + anything you might be sorry for, Alfred.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have to talk a long time before I said that,” retorted the + other. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not so sure,” said his wife. “I'm beginning to be tired of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I've reasoned with you,” continued Mr. Hatchard, “I've argued with you, + and I've pointed out the error of your ways to you, and it's all no good.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be quiet, and don't talk nonsense,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Talking,” continued Mr. Hatchard, “as I said before, is no good. Deeds, + not words, is what is wanted.” + </p> + <p> + He rose suddenly from his chair and, taking one of the vases from the + mantelpiece, dashed it to pieces on the fender. Example is contagious, and + two seconds later he was in his chair again, softly feeling a rapidly + growing bump on his head, and gazing goggle-eyed at his wife. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-5" id="linkimage-5"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/005.jpg" width="100%" + alt="Taking One of the Vases from The Mantelpiece, he Dashed It To Pieces on the Fender. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “And I'd do it again,” said that lady, breathlessly, “if there was another + vase.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard opened his mouth, but speech failed him. He got up and left + the room without a word, and, making his way to the scullery, turned on + the tap and held his head beneath it. A sharp intake of the breath + announced that a tributary stream was looking for the bump down the neck + of his shirt. + </p> + <p> + He was away a long time—so long that the half-penitent Mrs. Hatchard + was beginning to think of giving first aid to the wounded. Then she heard + him coming slowly back along the passage. He entered the room, drying his + wet hair on a hand-kerchief. + </p> + <p> + “I—I hope I didn't hurt you—much?” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard drew himself up and regarded her with lofty indignation. + </p> + <p> + “You might have killed me,” he said at last, in thrilling tones. “Then + what would you have done?” + </p> + <p> + “Swept up the pieces, and said you came home injured and died in my arms,” + said Mrs. Hatchard, glibly. “I don't want to be unfeeling, but you'd try + the temper of a saint. I'm sure I wonder I haven't done it before. Why I + married a stingy man I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Why I married at all I don't know,” said her husband, in a deep voice. + </p> + <p> + “We were both fools,” said Mrs. Hatchard, in a resigned voice; “that's + what it was. However, it can't be helped now.” + </p> + <p> + “Some men would go and leave you,” said Mr. Hatchard. + </p> + <p> + “Well, go,” said his wife, bridling. “I don't want you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk nonsense,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't nonsense,” said Mrs. Hatchard. “If you want to go, go. I don't + want to keep you.” + </p> + <p> + “I only wish I could,” said her husband, wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “There's the door,” said Mrs. Hatchard, pointing. “What's to prevent you?” + </p> + <p> + “And have you going to the magistrate?” observed Mr. Hatchard. + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Or coming up, full of complaints, to the ware-house?” + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” said his wife again. + </p> + <p> + “It makes my mouth water to think of it,” said Mr. Hatchard. “Four years + ago I hadn't a care in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Me neither,” said Mrs. Hatchard; “but then I never thought I should marry + you. I remember the first time I saw you I had to stuff my handkerchief in + my mouth.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” inquired Mr. Hatchard. + </p> + <p> + “Keep from laughing,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “You took care not to let me see you laugh,” said Mr. Hatchard, grimly. + “You were polite enough in them days. I only wish I could have my time + over again; that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “You can go, as I said before,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “I'd go this minute,” said Mr. Hatchard, “but I know what it 'ud be: in + three or four days you'd be coming and begging me to take you back again.” + </p> + <p> + “You try me,” said Mrs. Hatchard, with a hard laugh. “I can keep myself. + You leave me the furniture—most of it is mine—and I sha'n't + worry you again.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind!” said Mr. Hatchard, raising his hand with great solemnity. “If I + go, I never come back again.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take care of that,” said his wife, equably. “You are far more likely + to ask to come back than I am.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard stood for some time in deep thought, and then, spurred on by + a short, contemptuous laugh from his wife, went to the small passage and, + putting on his overcoat and hat, stood in the parlor doorway regarding + her. + </p> + <p> + “I've a good mind to take you at your word,” he said, at last. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night,” said his wife, briskly. “If you send me your address, I'll + send your things on to you. There's no need for you to call about them.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly realizing the seriousness of the step, Mr. Hatchard closed the + front door behind him with a bang, and then discovered that it was + raining. Too proud to return for his umbrella, he turned up his + coat-collar and, thrusting his hands in his pockets, walked slowly down + the desolate little street. By the time he had walked a dozen yards he + began to think that he might as well have waited until the morning; before + he had walked fifty he was certain of it. + </p> + <p> + He passed the night at a coffee-house, and rose so early in the morning + that the proprietor took it as a personal affront, and advised him to get + his breakfast elsewhere. It was the longest day in Mr. Hatchard's + experience, and, securing modest lodgings that evening, he overslept + himself and was late at the warehouse next morning for the first time in + ten years. + </p> + <p> + His personal effects arrived next day, but no letter came from his wife, + and one which he wrote concerning a pair of missing garments received no + reply. He wrote again, referring to them in laudatory terms, and got a + brief reply to the effect that they had been exchanged in part payment on + a pair of valuable pink vases, the pieces of which he could have by paying + the carriage. + </p> + <p> + In six weeks Mr. Hatchard changed his lodgings twice. A lack of those home + comforts which he had taken as a matter of course during his married life + was a source of much tribulation, and it was clear that his weekly bills + were compiled by a clever writer of fiction. It was his first experience + of lodgings, and the difficulty of saying unpleasant things to a woman + other than his wife was not the least of his troubles. He changed his + lodgings for a third time, and, much surprised at his wife's continued + silence, sought out a cousin of hers named Joe Pett, and poured his + troubles into that gentleman's reluctant ear. + </p> + <p> + “If she was to ask me to take her back,” he concluded, “I'm not sure, mind + you, that I wouldn't do so.” + </p> + <p> + “It does you credit,” said Mr. Pett. “Well, ta-ta; I must be off.” + </p> + <p> + “And I expect she'd be very much obliged to anybody that told her so,” + said Mr. Hatchard, clutching at the other's sleeve. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pett, gazing into space, said that he thought it highly probable. + </p> + <p> + “It wants to be done cleverly, though,” said Mr. Hatchard, “else she might + get the idea that I wanted to go back.” + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose you know she's moved?” said Mr. Pett, with the air of a man + anxious to change the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “Number thirty-seven, John Street,” said Mr. Pett. “Told my wife she's + going to take in lodgers. Calling herself Mrs. Harris, after her maiden + name.” + </p> + <p> + He went off before Mr. Hatchard could recover, and the latter at once + verified the information in part by walking round to his old house. Bits + of straw and paper littered the front garden, the blinds were down, and a + bill was pasted on the front parlor window. Aghast at such determination, + he walked back to his lodgings in gloomy thought. + </p> + <p> + On Saturday afternoon he walked round to John Street, and from the corner + of his eye, as he passed, stole a glance at No. 37. He recognized the + curtains at once, and, seeing that there was nobody in the room, leaned + over the palings and peered at a card that stood on the window-sash: + </p> + <table summary=""> + <tr> + <td> + <blockquote> + <p> + FURNISHED APARTMENTS FOR SINGLE YOUNG MAN BOARD IF DESIRED. + </p> + </blockquote> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + He walked away whistling, and after going a little way turned and passed + it again. He passed in all four times, and then, with an odd grin lurking + at the corners of his mouth, strode up to the front door and knocked + loudly. He heard somebody moving about inside, and, more with the idea of + keeping his courage up than anything else, gave another heavy knock at the + door. It was thrown open hastily, and the astonished face of his wife + appeared before him. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” she inquired, sharply. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard raised his hat. “Good-afternoon, ma'am,” he said, politely. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” repeated his wife. + </p> + <p> + “I called,” said Mr. Hatchard, clearing his throat—“I called about + the bill in the window.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-6" id="linkimage-6"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/006.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'i Called About the Bill in The Window.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard clutched at the door-post. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to see the rooms,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “But you ain't a single young man,” said his wife, recovering. + </p> + <p> + “I'm as good as single,” said Mr. Hatchard. “I should say, better.” + </p> + <p> + “You ain't young,” objected Mrs. Hatchard. “I'm three years younger than + what you are,” said Mr. Hatchard, dispassionately. + </p> + <p> + His wife's lips tightened and her hand closed on the door; Mr. Hatchard + put his foot in. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't want lodgers, why do you put a bill up?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I don't take the first that comes,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “I'll pay a week in advance,” said Mr. Hatchard, putting his hand in his + pocket. “Of course, if you're afraid of having me here—afraid o' + giving way to tenderness, I mean——” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid?” choked Mrs. Hatchard. “Tenderness! I—I——” + </p> + <p> + “Just a matter o' business,” continued her husband; “that's my way of + looking at it—that's a man's way. I s'pose women are different. They + can't——” + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said Mrs. Hatchard, breathing hard. Mr. Hatchard obeyed, and + clapping a hand over his mouth ascended the stairs behind her. At the top + she threw open the door of a tiny bedroom, and stood aside for him to + enter. Mr. Hatchard sniffed critically. + </p> + <p> + “Smells rather stuffy,” he said, at last. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't have it,” said his wife, abruptly. “There's plenty of other + fish in the sea.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and I expect they'd stay there if they saw this room,” said the + other. + </p> + <p> + “Don't think I want you to have it; because I don't,” said Mrs. Hatchard, + making a preliminary movement to showing him downstairs. + </p> + <p> + “They might suit me,” said Mr. Hatchard, musingly, as he peeped in at the + sitting-room door. “I shouldn't be at home much. I'm a man that's fond of + spending his evenings out.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard, checking a retort, eyed him grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen worse,” he said, slowly; “but then I've seen a good many. How + much are you asking?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven shillings a week,” replied his wife. “With breakfast, tea, and + supper, a pound a week.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard nearly whistled, but checked himself just in time. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give it a trial,” he said, with an air of unbearable patronage. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “If you come here, you quite understand it's on a business footing,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “O' course,” said the other, with affected surprise. “What do you think I + want it on?” + </p> + <p> + “You come here as a stranger, and I look after you as a stranger,” + continued his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the other. “I shall be made more comfortable that way, + I'm sure. But, of course, if you're afraid, as I said before, of giving + way to tender——” + </p> + <p> + “Tender fiddlesticks!” interrupted his wife, flushing and eying him + angrily. + </p> + <p> + “I'll come in and bring my things at nine o'clock to-night,” said Mr. + Hatchard. “I'd like the windows open and the rooms aired a bit. And what + about the sheets?” + </p> + <p> + “What about them?” inquired his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Don't put me in damp sheets, that's all,” said Mr. Hatchard. “One place I + was at——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” said his wife, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Was very particular about them,” said Mr. Hatchard, recovering. “Well, + good-afternoon to you, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “I want three weeks in advance,” said his wife. +</p> + <p> +“Three—” exclaimed + the other. “Three weeks in advance? Why——” + </p> + <p> + “Those are my terms,” said Mrs. Hatchard. “Take 'em or leave 'em. P'r'aps + it would be better if you left 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard looked thoughtful, and then with obvious reluctance took his + purse from one pocket and some silver from another, and made up the + required sum. + </p> + <p> + “And what if I'm not comfortable here?” he inquired, as his wife hastily + pocketed the money. “It'll be your own fault,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard looked dubious, and, in a thoughtful fashion, walked + downstairs and let himself out. He began to think that the joke was of a + more complicated nature than he had expected, and it was not without + forebodings that he came back at nine o'clock that night accompanied by a + boy with his baggage. + </p> + <p> + His gloom disappeared the moment the door opened. The air inside was warm + and comfortable, and pervaded by an appetizing smell of cooked meats. + Upstairs a small bright fire and a neatly laid supper-table awaited his + arrival. + </p> + <p> + He sank into an easy-chair and rubbed his hands. Then his gaze fell on a + small bell on the table, and opening the door he rang for supper. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Mrs. Hatchard, entering the room. “Supper, please,” said + the new lodger, with dignity. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard looked bewildered. “Well, there it is,” she said, indicating + the table. “You don't want me to feed you, do you?” + </p> + <p> + The lodger eyed the small, dry piece of cheese, the bread and butter, and + his face fell. “I—I thought I smelled something cooking,” he said at + last. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-7" id="linkimage-7"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/007.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'i—i Thought I Smelled Something Cooking,' he Said.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Oh, that was my supper,” said Mrs. Hatchard, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm very hungry,” said Mr. Hatchard, trying to keep his temper. + </p> + <p> + “It's the cold weather, I expect,” said Mrs. Hatchard, thoughtfully; “it + does affect some people that way, I know. Please ring if you want + anything.” + </p> + <p> + She left the room, humming blithely, and Mr. Hatchard, after sitting for + some time in silent consternation, got up and ate his frugal meal. The + fact that the water-jug held three pints and was filled to the brim gave + him no satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + He was still hungry when he arose next morning, and, with curiosity + tempered by uneasiness, waited for his breakfast. Mrs. Hatchard came in at + last, and after polite inquiries as to how he had slept proceeded to lay + breakfast. A fresh loaf and a large teapot appeared, and the smell of + frizzling bacon ascended from below. Then Mrs. Hatchard came in again, + and, smiling benevolently, placed an egg before him and withdrew. Two + minutes later he rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + “You can clear away,” he said, as Mrs. Hatchard entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “What, no breakfast?” she said, holding up her hands. “Well, I've heard of + you single young men, but I never thought——” + </p> + <p> + “The tea's cold and as black as ink,” growled the indignant lodger, “and + the egg isn't eatable.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you're a bit of a fault-finder,” said Mrs. Hatchard, shaking + her head at him. “I'm sure I try my best to please. I don't mind what I + do, but if you're not satisfied you'd better go.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Emily—” began her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you 'Emily' me!” said Mrs. Hatchard, quickly. “The idea! A lodger, + too! You know the arrangement. You'd better go, I think, if you can't + behave yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't go till my three weeks are up,” said Mr. Hatchard, doggedly, “so + you may as well behave yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't pamper you for a pound a week,” said Mrs. Hatchard, walking to + the door. “If you want pampering, you had better go.” + </p> + <p> + A week passed, and the additional expense caused by getting most of his + meals out began to affect Mr. Hatchard's health. His wife, on the + contrary, was in excellent spirits, and, coming in one day, explained the + absence of the easy-chair by stating that it was wanted for a new lodger. + </p> + <p> + “He's taken my other two rooms,” she said, smiling—“the little back + parlor and the front bedroom—I'm full up now.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't he like my table, too?” inquired Mr. Hatchard, with bitter + sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + His wife said that she would inquire, and brought back word next day that + Mr. Sadler, the new lodger, would like it. It disappeared during Mr. + Hatchard's enforced absence at business, and a small bamboo table, weak in + the joints, did duty in its stead. + </p> + <p> + The new lodger, a man of middle age with a ready tongue, was a success + from the first, and it was only too evident that Mrs. Hatchard was trying + her best to please him. Mr. Hatchard, supping on bread and cheese, more + than once left that wholesome meal to lean over the balusters and smell + the hot meats going into Mr. Sadler. + </p> + <p> + “You're spoiling him,” he said to Mrs. Hatchard, after the new lodger had + been there a week. “Mark my words—he'll get above himself.” + </p> + <p> + “That's my look-out,” said his wife briefly. + </p> + <p> +“Don't come to me if you get + into trouble, that's all,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard laughed derisively. “You don't like him, that's what it is,” + she remarked. “He asked me yesterday whether he had offended you in any + way.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! He did, did he?” snarled Mr. Hatchard. “Let him keep himself to + himself, and mind his own business.” + </p> + <p> + “He said he thinks you have got a bad temper,” continued his wife. “He + thinks, perhaps, it's indigestion, caused by eating cheese for supper + always.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard affected not to hear, and, lighting his pipe, listened fer + some time to the hum of conversation between his wife and Mr. Sadler + below. With an expression of resignation on his face that was almost + saintly he knocked out his pipe at last and went to bed. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour passed, and he was still awake. His wife's voice had ceased, + but the gruff tones of Mr. Sadler were still audible. Then he sat up in + bed and listened, as a faint cry of alarm and the sound of somebody + rushing upstairs fell on his ears. The next moment the door of his room + burst open, and a wild figure, stumbling in the darkness, rushed over to + the bed and clasped him in its arms. + </p> + <p> + “Help!” gasped his wife's voice. “Oh, Alfred! Alfred!” + </p> + <p> + “Ma'am!” said Mr. Hatchard in a prim voice, as he struggled in vain to + free himself. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so—so—fr-frightened!” sobbed Mrs. Hatchard. + </p> + <p> + “That's no reason for coming into a lodger's room and throwing your arms + round his neck,” said her husband, severely. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be stu-stu-stupid,” gasped Mrs. Hatchard. “He—he's sitting + downstairs in my room with a paper cap on his head and a fire-shovel in + his hand, and he—he says he's the—the Emperor of China.” + </p> + <p> + “He? Who?” inquired her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sad-Sadler,” replied Mrs. Hatchard, almost strangling him. “He made + me kneel in front o' him and keep touching the floor with my head.” + </p> + <p> + The chair-bedstead shook in sympathy with Mr. Hatchard's husbandly + emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's nothing to do with me,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + “He's mad,” said his wife, in a tense whisper; “stark staring mad. He says + I'm his favorite wife, and he made me stroke his forehead.” + </p> + <p> + The bed shook again. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see that I have any right to interfere,” said Mr. Hatchard, after + he had quieted the bedstead. “He's your lodger.” + </p> + <p> + “You're my husband,” said Mrs. Hatchard. “Ho!” said Mr. Hatchard. “You've + remembered that, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Alfred,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “And are you sorry for all your bad behavior?” demanded Mr. Hatchard. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hatchard hesitated. Then a clatter of fire-irons downstairs moved her + to speech. + </p> + <p> + “Ye-yes,” she sobbed. + </p> + <p> + “And you want me to take you back?” queried the generous Mr. Hatchard. + </p> + <p> + “Ye-ye-yes,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hatchard got out of bed and striking a match lit the candle, and, + taking his overcoat from a peg behind the door, put it on and marched + downstairs. Mrs. Hatchard, still trembling, followed behind. + </p> + <p> + “What's all this?” he demanded, throwing the door open with a flourish. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sadler, still holding the fire-shovel sceptre-fashion and still with + the paper cap on his head, opened his mouth to reply. Then, as he saw the + unkempt figure of Mr. Hatchard with the scared face of Mrs. Hatchard + peeping over his shoulder, his face grew red, his eyes watered, and his + cheeks swelled. + </p> + <p> + “K-K-K-Kch! K-Kch!” he said, explosively. “Talk English, not Chinese,” + said Mr. Hatchard, sternly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-8" id="linkimage-8"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/008.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'K-k-k-kch! K-kch!' he Said, Explosively.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Mr. Sadler threw down the fire-shovel, and to Mr. Hatchard's great + annoyance, clapped his open hand over his mouth and rocked with merriment. + </p> + <p> + “Sh—sh—she—she—” he spluttered. + </p> + <p> + “That'll do,” said Mr. Hatchard, hastily, with a warning frown. + </p> + <p> + “Kow-towed to me,” gurgled Mr. Sadler. “You ought to have seen it, Alf. I + shall never get over it—never. It's—no—no good + win-winking at me; I can't help myself.” + </p> + <p> + He put his handkerchief to his eyes and leaned back exhausted. When he + removed it, he found himself alone and everything still but for a murmur + of voices overhead. Anon steps sounded on the stairs, and Mr. Hatchard, + grave of face, entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “Outside!” he said, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said the astounded Mr. Sadler. “Why, it's eleven o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it if it's twelve o'clock,” was the reply. “You shouldn't + play the fool and spoil things by laughing. Now, are you going, or have I + got to put you out?” + </p> + <p> + He crossed the room and, putting his hand on the shoulder of the + protesting Mr. Sadler, pushed him into the passage, and taking his coat + from the peg held it up for him. Mr. Sadler, abandoning himself to his + fate, got into it slowly and indulged in a few remarks on the subject of + ingratitude. + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it,” said his friend, in a low voice. “I've had to swear + I've never seen you before.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she believe you?” said the staring Mr. Sadler, shivering at the open + door. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mr. Hatchard, slowly, “but she pretends to.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_3" id="link2H_4_3"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + SELF-HELP + </h2> + <p> + The night-watchman sat brooding darkly over life and its troubles. A + shooting corn on the little toe of his left foot, and a touch of liver, + due, he was convinced, to the unlawful cellar work of the landlord of the + Queen's Head, had induced in him a vein of profound depression. A + discarded boot stood by his side, and his gray-stockinged foot protruded + over the edge of the jetty until a passing waterman gave it a playful rap + with his oar. A subsequent inquiry as to the price of pigs' trotters fell + on ears rendered deaf by suffering. + </p> + <p> + “I might 'ave expected it,” said the watchman, at last. “I done that man—if + you can call him a man—a kindness once, and this is my reward for + it. Do a man a kindness, and years arterwards 'e comes along and hits you + over your tenderest corn with a oar.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-9" id="linkimage-9"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/009.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'E Comes Along and Hits You over Your Tenderest Corn With a Oar.'' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + He took up his boot, and, inserting his foot with loving care, stooped + down and fastened the laces. + </p> + <p> + Do a man a kindness, he continued, assuming a safer posture, and 'e tries + to borrow money off of you; do a woman a kindness and she thinks you want + to marry 'er; do an animal a kindness and it tries to bite you—same + as a horse bit a sailorman I knew once, when 'e sat on its head to 'elp it + get up. He sat too far for'ard, pore chap. + </p> + <p> + Kindness never gets any thanks. I remember a man whose pal broke 'is leg + while they was working together unloading a barge; and he went off to + break the news to 'is pal's wife. A kind-'earted man 'e was as ever you + see, and, knowing 'ow she would take on when she 'eard the news, he told + her fust of all that 'er husband was killed. She took on like a mad thing, + and at last, when she couldn't do anything more and 'ad quieted down a + bit, he told 'er that it was on'y a case of a broken leg, thinking that + 'er joy would be so great that she wouldn't think anything of that. He 'ad + to tell her three times afore she understood 'im, and then, instead of + being thankful to 'im for 'is thoughtfulness, she chased him 'arf over + Wapping with a chopper, screaming with temper. + </p> + <p> + I remember Ginger Dick and Peter Russet trying to do old Sam Small a + kindness one time when they was 'aving a rest ashore arter a v'y'ge. They + 'ad took a room together as usual, and for the fust two or three days they + was like brothers. That couldn't last, o' course, and Sam was so annoyed + one evening at Ginger's suspiciousness by biting a 'arf-dollar Sam owed + 'im and finding it was a bad 'un, that 'e went off to spend the evening + all alone by himself. + </p> + <p> + He felt a bit dull at fust, but arter he had 'ad two or three 'arf-pints + 'e began to take a brighter view of things. He found a very nice, cosey + little public-'ouse he hadn't been in before, and, arter getting two and + threepence and a pint for the 'arf-dollar with Ginger's tooth-marks on, he + began to think that the world wasn't 'arf as bad a place as people tried + to make out. + </p> + <p> + There was on'y one other man in the little bar Sam was in—a tall, + dark chap, with black side-whiskers and spectacles, wot kept peeping round + the partition and looking very 'ard at everybody that came in. + </p> + <p> + “I'm just keeping my eye on 'em, cap'n,” he ses to Sam, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “They don't know me in this disguise,” ses the dark man, “but I see as 'ow + you spotted me at once. Anybody 'ud have a 'ard time of it to deceive you; + and then they wouldn't gain nothing by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody ever 'as yet,” ses Sam, smiling at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “And nobody ever will,” ses the dark man, shaking his 'ead; “if they was + all as fly as you, I might as well put the shutters up. How did you twig I + was a detective officer, cap'n?” + </p> + <p> + Sam, wot was taking a drink, got some beer up 'is nose with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “That's my secret,” he ses, arter the tec 'ad patted 'im on the back and + brought 'im round. + </p> + <p> + “You're a marvel, that's wot you are,” ses the tec, shaking his 'ead. + “Have one with me.” + </p> + <p> + Sam said he didn't mind if 'e did, and arter drinking each other's healths + very perlite 'e ordered a couple o' twopenny smokes, and by way of showing + off paid for 'em with 'arf a quid. + </p> + <p> + “That's right, ain't it?” ses the barmaid, as he stood staring very 'ard + at the change. “I ain't sure about that 'arf-crown, now I come to look at + it; but it's the one you gave me.” + </p> + <p> + Pore Sam, with a tec standing alongside of 'im, said it was quite right, + and put it into 'is pocket in a hurry and began to talk to the tec as fast + as he could about a murder he 'ad been reading about in the paper that + morning. They went and sat down by a comfortable little fire that was + burning in the bar, and the tec told 'im about a lot o' murder cases he + 'ad been on himself. + </p> + <p> + “I'm down 'ere now on special work,” he ses, “looking arter sailormen.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot ha' they been doing?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “When I say looking arter, I mean protecting 'em,” ses the tec. “Over and + over agin some pore feller, arter working 'ard for months at sea, comes + 'ome with a few pounds in 'is pocket and gets robbed of the lot. There's a + couple o' chaps down 'ere I'm told off to look arter special, but it's no + good unless I can catch 'em red-'anded.” + </p> + <p> + “Red-'anded?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “With their hands in the chap's pockets, I mean,” ses the tec. + </p> + <p> + Sam gave a shiver. “Somebody had their 'ands in my pockets once,” he ses. + “Four pun ten and some coppers they got.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot was they like?” ses the tee, starting. + </p> + <p> + Sam shook his 'ead. “They seemed to me to be all hands, that's all I know + about 'em,” he ses. “Arter they 'ad finished they leaned me up agin the + dock wall an' went off.” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds like 'em,” ses the tec, thoughtfully. “It was Long Pete and + Fair Alf, for a quid; that's the two I'm arter.” + </p> + <p> + He put his finger in 'is weskit-pocket. “That's who I am,” he ses, 'anding + Sam a card; “Detective-Sergeant Cubbins. If you ever get into any trouble + at any time, you come to me.” + </p> + <p> + Sam said 'e would, and arter they had 'ad another drink together the tec + shifted 'is seat alongside of 'im and talked in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “If I can nab them two chaps I shall get promotion,” he ses; “and it's a + fi'-pun note to anybody that helps me. I wish I could persuade you to.” + </p> + <p> + “'Ow's it to be done?” ses Sam, looking at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “I want a respectable-looking seafaring man,” ses the tec, speaking very + slow; “that's you. He goes up Tower Hill to-morrow night at nine o'clock, + walking very slow and very unsteady on 'is pins, and giving my two + beauties the idea that 'e is three sheets in the wind. They come up and + rob 'im, and I catch them red-'anded. I get promotion, and you get a + fiver.” + </p> + <p> + “But 'ow do you know they'll be there?” ses Sam, staring at 'im. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cubbins winked at 'im and tapped 'is nose. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-10" id="linkimage-10"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/010.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Mr. Cubbins Winked at 'im and Tapped 'is Nose.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “We 'ave to know a good deal in our line o' business,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “Still,” ses Sam, “I don't see——” + </p> + <p> + “Narks,” says the tec; “coppers' narks. You've 'eard of them, cap'n? Now, + look 'ere. Have you got any money?” + </p> + <p> + “I got a matter o' twelve quid or so,” ses Sam, in a off-hand way. + </p> + <p> + “The very thing,” says the tec. “Well, to-morrow night you put that in + your pocket, and be walking up Tower Hill just as the clock strikes nine. + I promise you you'll be robbed afore two minutes past, and by two and a + 'arf past I shall 'ave my hands on both of 'em. Have all the money in one + pocket, so as they can get it neat and quick, in case they get + interrupted. Better still, 'ave it in a purse; that makes it easier to + bring it 'ome to 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't it be enough if they stole the purse?” ses Sam. “I should feel + safer that way, too.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cubbins shook his 'ead, very slow and solemn. “That wouldn't do at + all,” he ses. “The more money they steal, the longer they'll get; you know + that, cap'n, without me telling you. If you could put fifty quid in it + would be so much the better. And, what-ever you do, don't make a noise. I + don't want a lot o' clumsy policemen interfering in my business.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, s'pose you didn't catch 'em,” ses Sam, “where should I be?” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't be afraid o' that,” ses the tec, with a laugh. “Here, I'll + tell you wot I'll do, and that'll show you the trust I put in you.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a big di'mond ring off of 'is finger and handed it to Sam. + </p> + <p> + “Put that on your finger,” he ses, “and keep it there till I give you your + money back and the fi'-pun note reward. It's worth seventy quid if it's + worth a farthing, and was given to me by a lady of title for getting back + 'er jewellery for 'er. Put it on, and wotever you do, don't lose it!” + </p> + <p> + He sat and watched while Sam forced it on 'is finger. + </p> + <p> + “You don't need to flash it about too much,” he ses, looking at 'im rather + anxious. “There's men I know as 'ud cut your finger off to get that.” + </p> + <p> + Sam shoved his 'and in his pocket, but he kept taking it out every now and + then and 'olding his finger up to the light to look at the di'mond. Mr. + Cubbins got up to go at last, saying that he 'ad got a call to make at the + police-station, and they went out together. + </p> + <p> + “Nine o'clock sharp,” he ses, as they shook hands, “on Tower Hill.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be there,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “And, wotever you do, no noise, no calling out,” ses the tec, “and don't + mention a word of this to a living soul.” + </p> + <p> + Sam shook 'ands with 'im agin, and then, hiding his 'and in his pocket, + went off 'ome, and, finding Ginger and Peter Russet wasn't back, went off + to bed. + </p> + <p> + He 'eard 'em coming upstairs in the dark in about an hour's time, and, + putting the 'and with the ring on it on the counterpane, shut 'is eyes and + pretended to be fast asleep. Ginger lit the candle, and they was both + beginning to undress when Peter made a noise and pointed to Sam's 'and. + </p> + <p> + “Wot's up?” ses Ginger, taking the candle and going over to Sam's bed. + “Who've you been robbing, you fat pirate?” + </p> + <p> + Sam kept 'is eyes shut and 'eard 'em whispering; then he felt 'em take 'is + hand up and look at it. “Where did you get it, Sam?” ses Peter. + </p> + <p> + “He's asleep,” ses Ginger, “sound asleep. I b'lieve if I was to put 'is + finger in the candle he wouldn't wake up.” + </p> + <p> + “You try it,” ses Sam, sitting up in bed very sharp and snatching his 'and + away. “Wot d'ye mean coming 'ome at all hours and waking me up?” “Where + did you get that ring?” ses Ginger. “Friend o' mine,” ses Sam, very short. + </p> + <p> + “Who was it?” ses Peter. + </p> + <p> + “It's a secret,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't 'ave a secret from your old pal Ginger, Sam, would you?” ses + Ginger. + </p> + <p> + “Old wot?” ses Sam. “Wot did you call me this arternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “I called you a lot o' things I'm sorry for,” ses Ginger, who was bursting + with curiosity, “and I beg your pardin, Sam.” + </p> + <p> + “Shake 'ands on it,” ses Peter, who was nearly as curious as Ginger. + </p> + <p> + They shook hands, but Sam said he couldn't tell 'em about the ring; and + several times Ginger was on the point of calling 'im the names he 'ad + called 'im in the arternoon, on'y Peter trod on 'is foot and stopped him. + They wouldn't let 'im go to sleep for talking, and at last, when 'e was + pretty near tired out, he told 'em all about it. + </p> + <p> + “Going—to 'ave your—pocket picked?” ses Ginger, staring at + 'im, when 'e had finished. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be watched over,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “He's gorn stark, staring mad,” ses Ginger. “Wot a good job it is he's got + me and you to look arter 'im, Peter.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot d'ye mean?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Mean?</i>” ses Ginger. “Why, it's a put-up job to rob you, o' course. + I should ha' thought even your fat 'ead could ha' seen that':” + </p> + <p> + “When I want your advice I'll ask you for it,” ses Sam, losing 'is temper. + “Wot about the di'mond ring—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You stick to it,” ses Ginger, “and keep out o' Mr. Cubbins's way. That's + my advice to you. 'Sides, p'r'aps it ain't a real one.” + </p> + <p> + Sam told 'im agin he didn't want none of 'is advice, and, as Ginger + wouldn't leave off talking, he pretended to go to sleep. Ginger woke 'im + up three times to tell 'im wot a fool 'e was, but 'e got so fierce that he + gave it up at last and told 'im to go 'is own way. + </p> + <p> + Sam wouldn't speak to either of 'em next morning, and arter breakfast he + went off on 'is own. He came back while Peter and Ginger was out, and they + wasted best part o' the day trying to find 'im. + </p> + <p> + “We'll be on Tower Hill just afore nine and keep 'im out o' mischief, any + way,” ses Peter. + </p> + <p> + Ginger nodded. “And be called names for our pains,” he ses. “I've a good + mind to let 'im be robbed.” + </p> + <p> + “It 'ud serve 'im right,” ses Peter, “on'y then he'd want to borrer off of + us. Look here! Why not—why not rob 'im ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + “Wot?” ses Ginger, starting. + </p> + <p> + “Walk up behind 'im and rob 'im,” ses Peter. “He'll think it's them two + chaps he spoke about, and when 'e comes 'ome complaining to us we'll tell + 'im it serves 'im right. Arter we've 'ad a game with 'im for a day or two + we'll give 'im 'is money back.” + </p> + <p> + “But he'd reckernize us,” ses Ginger. + </p> + <p> + “We must disguise ourselves,” ses Peter, in a whisper. “There's a barber's + shop in Cable Street, where I've seen beards in the winder. You hook 'em + on over your ears. Get one o' them each, pull our caps over our eyes and + turn our collars up, and there you are.” + </p> + <p> + Ginger made a lot of objections, not because he didn't think it was a good + idea, but because he didn't like Peter thinking of it instead of 'im; but + he gave way at last, and, arter he 'ad got the beard, he stood for a long + time in front o' the glass thinking wot a difference it would ha' made to + his looks if he had 'ad black 'air instead o' red. + </p> + <p> + Waiting for the evening made the day seem very long to 'em; but it came at + last, and, with the beards in their pockets, they slipped out and went for + a walk round. They 'ad 'arf a pint each at a public-'ouse at the top of + the Minories, just to steady themselves, and then they came out and hooked + on their beards; and wot with them, and pulling their caps down and + turning their coat-collars up, there wasn't much of their faces to be seen + by anybody. + </p> + <p> + It was just five minutes to nine when they got to Tower Hill, and they + walked down the middle of the road, keeping a bright lookout for old Sam. + A little way down they saw a couple o' chaps leaning up agin a closed gate + in the dock wall lighting their pipes, and Peter and Ginger both nudged + each other with their elbows at the same time. They 'ad just got to the + bottom of the Hill when Sam turned the corner. + </p> + <p> + Peter wouldn't believe at fust that the old man wasn't really the worse + for liquor, 'e was so lifelike. Many a drunken man would ha' been proud to + ha' done it 'arf so well, and it made 'im pleased to think that Sam was a + pal of 'is. Him and Ginger turned and crept up behind the old man on + tiptoe, and then all of a sudden he tilted Sam's cap over 'is eyes and + flung his arms round 'im, while Ginger felt in 'is coat-pockets and took + out a leather purse chock full o' money. + </p> + <p> + It was all done and over in a moment, and then, to Ginger's great + surprise, Sam suddenly lifted 'is foot and gave 'im a fearful kick on the + shin of 'is leg, and at the same time let drive with all his might in 'is + face. Ginger went down as if he 'ad been shot, and as Peter went to 'elp + him up he got a bang over the 'ead that put 'im alongside o' Ginger, arter + which Sam turned and trotted off down the Hill like a dancing-bear. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-11" id="linkimage-11"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/011.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Let Drive With All his Might in 'is Face. ' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + For 'arf a minute Ginger didn't know where 'e was, and afore he found out + the two men they'd seen in the gateway came up, and one of 'em put his + knee in Ginger's back and 'eld him, while the other caught hold of his + 'and and dragged the purse out of it. Arter which they both made off up + the Hill as 'ard as they could go, while Peter Russet in a faint voice + called “Police!” arter them. + </p> + <p> + He got up presently and helped Ginger up, and they both stood there + pitying themselves, and 'elping each other to think of names to call Sam. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the money's gorn, and it's 'is own silly fault,” ses Ginger. “But + wotever 'appens, he mustn't know that we had a 'and in it, mind that.” + </p> + <p> + “He can starve for all I care,” ses Peter, feeling his 'ead. “I won't lend + 'im a ha'penny—not a single, blessed ha'penny.” + </p> + <p> + “Who'd ha' thought 'e could ha' hit like that?” says Ginger. “That's wot + gets over me. I never 'ad such a bang in my life—never. I'm going to + 'ave a little drop o' brandy—my 'ead is fair swimming.” + </p> + <p> + Peter 'ad one, too; but though they went into the private bar, it wasn't + private enough for them; and when the landlady asked Ginger who'd been + kissing 'im, he put 'is glass down with a bang and walked straight off + 'ome. + </p> + <p> + Sam 'adn't turned up by the time they got there, and pore Ginger took + advantage of it to put a little warm candle-grease on 'is bad leg. Then he + bathed 'is face very careful and 'elped Peter bathe his 'ead. They 'ad + just finished when they heard Sam coming upstairs, and Ginger sat down on + 'is bed and began to whistle, while Peter took up a bit o' newspaper and + stood by the candle reading it. + </p> + <p> + “Lor' lumme, Ginger!” ses Sam, staring at 'im. “What ha' you been a-doing + to your face?” + </p> + <p> + “Me?” ses Ginger, careless-like. “Oh, we 'ad a bit of a scrap down + Limehouse way with some Scotchies. Peter got a crack over the 'ead at the + same time.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I've 'ad a bit of a scrap, too,” ses Sam, smiling all over, “but I + didn't get marked.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” ses Peter, without looking up from 'is paper. “Was it a little boy, + then?” ses Ginger. + </p> + <p> + “No, it wasn't a little boy neither, Ginger,” ses Sam; “it was a couple o' + men twice the size of you and Peter here, and I licked 'em both. It was + the two men I spoke to you about last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” ses Peter agin, yawning. + </p> + <p> + “I did a bit o' thinking this morning,” ses Sam, nodding at 'em, “and I + don't mind owning up that it was owing to wot you said. You was right, + Ginger, arter all.” + </p> + <p> + “Fust thing I did arter breakfast,” ses Sam, “I took that di'mond ring to + a pawnshop and found out it wasn't a di'mond ring. Then I did a bit more + thinking, and I went round to a shop I know and bought a couple o' + knuckle-dusters.” + </p> + <p> + “Couple o' wot?” ses Ginger, in a choking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Knuckle-dusters,” ses Sam, “and I turned up to-night at Tower Hill with + one on each 'and just as the clock was striking nine. I see 'em the moment + I turned the corner—two enormous big chaps, a yard acrost the + shoulders, coming down the middle of the road—You've got a cold, + Ginger!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain't,” ses Ginger. + </p> + <p> + “I pretended to be drunk, same as the tec told me,” ses Sam, “and then I + felt 'em turn round and creep up behind me. One of 'em come up behind and + put 'is knee in my back and caught me by the throat, and the other gave me + a punch in the chest, and while I was gasping for breath took my purse + away. Then I started on 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Lor'!” ses Ginger, very nasty. + </p> + <p> + “I fought like a lion,” ses Sam. “Twice they 'ad me down, and twice I got + up agin and hammered 'em. They both of 'em 'ad knives, but my blood was + up, and I didn't take no more notice of 'em than if they was made of + paper. I knocked 'em both out o' their hands, and if I hit 'em in the face + once I did a dozen times. I surprised myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You surprise me,” ses Ginger. + </p> + <p> + “All of a sudden,” ses Sam, “they see they 'ad got to do with a man wot + didn't know wot fear was, and they turned round and ran off as hard as + they could run. You ought to ha' been there, Ginger. You'd 'ave enjoyed + it.” + </p> + <p> + Ginger Dick didn't answer 'im. Having to sit still and listen to all them + lies without being able to say anything nearly choked 'im. He sat there + gasping for breath. + </p> + <p> + “O' course, you got your purse back in the fight, Sam?” ses Peter. + </p> + <p> + “No, mate,” ses Sam. “I ain't going to tell you no lies—I did not.” + </p> + <p> + “And 'ow are you going to live, then, till you get a ship, Sam?” ses + Ginger, in a nasty voice. “You won't get nothing out o' me, so you needn't + think it.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot on earth's the matter, Ginger?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor me,” ses Peter. “Not a brass farthing.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no call to be nasty about it, mates,” ses Sam. “I 'ad the best + fight I ever 'ad in my life, and I must put up with the loss. A man can't + 'ave it all his own way.” + </p> + <p> + “'Ow much was it?” ses Peter. + </p> + <p> + “Ten brace-buttons, three French ha'pennies, and a bit o' tin,” ses Sam. + “Wot on earth's the matter, Ginger?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-12" id="linkimage-12"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/012.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Wot on Earth's the Matter, Ginger?'' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Ginger didn't answer him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_4" id="link2H_4_4"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + SENTENCE DEFERRED + </h2> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-13" id="linkimage-13"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/013.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'An Elderly Man With a Wooden Leg, Who Joined The Indignant Officer in the Pursuit.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Fortunately for Captain Bligh, there were but few people about, and the + only person who saw him trip Police-Sergeant Pilbeam was an elderly man + with a wooden leg, who joined the indignant officer in the pursuit. The + captain had youth on his side, and, diving into the narrow alley-ways that + constitute the older portion of Woodhatch, he moderated his pace and + listened acutely. The sounds of pursuit died away in the distance, and he + had already dropped into a walk when the hurried tap of the wooden leg + sounded from one corner and a chorus of hurried voices from the other. It + was clear that the number of hunters had increased. + </p> + <p> + He paused a second, irresolute. The next, he pushed open a door that stood + ajar in an old flint wall and peeped in. He saw a small, brick-paved yard, + in which trim myrtles and flowering plants stood about in freshly ochred + pots, and, opening the door a little wider, he slipped in and closed it + behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said a voice, sharply. “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh turned, and saw a girl standing in a hostile attitude in the + doorway of the house. “H'sh!” he said, holding up his finger. + </p> + <p> + The girl's cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing in our yard?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + The captain's face relaxed as the sound of voices died away. He gave his + moustache a twist, and eyed her with frank admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Escaping,” he said, briefly. “They nearly had me, though.” + </p> + <p> + “You had no business to escape into our yard,” said the girl. “What have + you been escaping from?” + </p> + <p> + “Fat policeman,” said the skipper, jauntily, twisting his moustache. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam, only daughter of Sergeant Pilbeam, caught her breath + sharply. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been doing?” she inquired, as soon as she could control her + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said the skipper, airily, “nothing. I was kicking a stone along + the path and he told me to stop it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Miss Pilbeam, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “We had words,” said the skipper. “I don't like policemen—fat + policemen—and while we were talking he happened to lose his balance + and go over into some mud that was swept up at the side of the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Lost his balance?” gasped the horrified Miss Pilbeam. + </p> + <p> + The skipper was flattered at her concern. “You would have laughed if you + had seen him,” he said, smiling. “Don't look so frightened; he hasn't got + me yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the girl, slowly. “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + She gazed at him with such a world of longing in her eyes that the + skipper, despite a somewhat large share of self-esteem, was almost + startled. + </p> + <p> + “And he shan't have me,” he said, returning her gaze with interest. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam stood in silent thought. She was a strong, well-grown girl, + but she realized fully that she was no match for the villain who stood + before her, twisting his moustache and adjusting his neck-tie. And her + father would not be off duty until nine. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you would like to wait here until it is dark?” she said at + last. + </p> + <p> + “I would sooner wait here than anywhere,” said the skipper, with + respectful ardor. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would like to come in and sit down?” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh thanked her, and removing his cap followed her into a small + parlor in the front of the house. + </p> + <p> + “Father is out,” she said, as she motioned him to an easy-chair, “but I'm + sure he'll be pleased to see you when he comes in.” + </p> + <p> + “And I shall be pleased to see him,” said the innocent skipper. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam kept her doubts to herself and sat in a brown study, + wondering how the capture was to be effected. She had a strong + presentiment that the appearance of her father at the front door would be + the signal for her visitor's departure at the back. For a time there was + an awkward silence. + </p> + <p> + “Lucky thing for me I upset that policeman,” said the skipper, at last. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” inquired the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Else I shouldn't have come into your yard,” was the reply. “It's the + first time we have ever put into Woodhatch, and I might have sailed away + and never seen you. Where should we have been but for that fat policeman?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam—as soon as she could get her breath—said, “Ah, + where indeed!” and for the first time in her life began to feel the need + of a chaperon. + </p> + <p> + “Funny to think of him hunting for me high and low while I am sitting + here,” said the skipper. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam agreed with him, and began to laugh—to laugh so + heartily that he was fain at last to draw his chair close to hers and pat + her somewhat anxiously on the back. The treatment sobered her at once, and + she drew apart and eyed him coldly. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid you would lose your breath,” explained the skipper, + awkwardly. “You are not angry, are you?” + </p> + <p> + He was so genuinely relieved when she said, “No,” that Miss Pilbeam, + despite her father's wrongs, began to soften a little. The upsetter of + policemen was certainly good-looking; and his manner towards her so nicely + balanced between boldness and timidity that a slight feeling of sadness at + his lack of moral character began to assail her. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you are caught after all?” she said, presently. “You will go to + prison.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper shrugged his shoulders. “I don't suppose I shall be,” he + replied. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you sorry?” persisted Miss Pilbeam, in a vibrant voice. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said the skipper. “Why, I shouldn't have seen you if I + hadn't done it.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam looked at the clock and pondered. It wanted but five minutes + to nine. Five minutes in which to make up a mind that was in a state of + strong unrest. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is time for me to go,” said the skipper, watching her. Miss + Pilbeam rose. “No, don't go,” she said, hastily. “Do be quiet. I want to + think.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh waited in respectful silence, heedless of the fateful + seconds ticking from the mantelpiece. At the sound of a slow, measured + footfall on the cobblestone path outside Miss Pilbeam caught his arm and + drew him towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “Go!” she breathed. “No, stop!” + </p> + <p> + She stood trying in vain to make up her mind. “Upstairs,” she said. + “Quick!” and, leading the way, entered her father's bedroom, and, after a + moment's thought, opened the door of a cupboard in the corner. + </p> + <p> + “Get in there,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “But—” objected the astonished Bligh. + </p> + <p> + The front door was heard to open. + </p> + <p> + “Police!” said Miss Pilbeam, in a thrilling whisper. The skipper stepped + into the cupboard without further parley, and the girl, turning the key, + slipped it into her pocket and sped downstairs. + </p> + <p> + Sergeant Pilbeam was in the easy-chair, with his belt unfastened, when she + entered the parlor, and, with a hungry reference to supper, sat watching + her as she lit the lamp and drew down the blind. With a lifelong knowledge + of the requirements of the Force, she drew a jug of beer and placed it by + his side while she set the table. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I wanted that,” said the sergeant. “I've been running.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam raised her eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “After some sailor-looking chap that capsized me when I wasn't prepared + for it,” said her father, putting down his glass. “It was a neat bit o' + work, and I shall tell him so when I catch him. Look here!” + </p> + <p> + He stood up and exhibited the damage. + </p> + <p> + “I've rubbed off what I could,” he said, resuming his seat, “and I s'pose + the rest'll brush off when it's dry. To-morrow morning I shall go down to + the harbor and try and spot my lord.” + </p> + <p> + He drew his chair to the table and helped himself, and, filling his mouth + with cold meat and pickles, enlarged on his plans for the capture of his + assailant; plans to which the undecided Miss Pilbeam turned a somewhat + abstracted ear. + </p> + <p> + By the time her father had finished his supper she was trying, but in + vain, to devise means for the prisoner's escape. The sergeant had opened + the door of the room for the sake of fresh air, and it was impossible for + anybody to come downstairs without being seen. The story of a sickly + geranium in the back-yard left him unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't get up for all the geraniums in the world,” he declared. “I'm + just going to have one more pipe and then I'm off to bed. Running don't + agree with me.” + </p> + <p> + He went, despite his daughter's utmost efforts to prevent him, and she sat + in silent consternation, listening to his heavy tread overhead. She heard + the bed creak in noisy protest as he climbed in, and ten minutes later the + lusty snoring of a healthy man of full habit resounded through the house. + </p> + <p> + She went to bed herself at last, and, after lying awake for nearly a + couple of hours, closed her eyes in order to think better. She awoke with + the sun pouring in at the window and the sounds of vigorous brushing in + the yard beneath. + </p> + <p> + “I've nearly got it off,” said the sergeant, looking up. “It's destroying + evidence in a sense, I suppose; but I can't go about with my uniform + plastered with mud. I've had enough chaff about it as it is.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam stole to the door of the next room and peeped stealthily in. + Not a sound came from the cupboard, and a horrible idea that the prisoner + might have been suffocated set her trembling with apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “H'sh!” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + An eager but stifled “H'st!” came from the cup-board, and Miss Pilbeam, + her fears allayed, stepped softly into the room. + </p> + <p> + “He's downstairs brushing the mud off,” she said, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Who is?” said the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “The fat policeman,” said the girl, in a hard voice, as she remembered her + father's wrongs. + </p> + <p> + “What's he doing it here for?” demanded the astonished skipper. + </p> + <p> + “Because he lives here.” + </p> + <p> + “Lodger?” queried the skipper, more astonished than before. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Miss Pilbeam. + </p> + <p> + A horrified groan from the cupboard fell like music on her ears. Then the + smile forsook her lips, and she stood quivering with indignation as the + groan gave way to suppressed but unmistakable laughter. + </p> + <p> + “H'sh!” she said sharply, and with head erect sailed out of the room and + went downstairs to give Mr. Pilbeam his breakfast. + </p> + <p> + To the skipper in the confined space and darkness of the cupboard the + breakfast seemed unending. The sergeant evidently believed in sitting over + his meals, and his deep, rumbling voice, punctuated by good-natured + laughter, was plainly audible. To pass the time the skipper fell to + counting, and, tired of that, recited some verses that he had acquired at + school. After that, and with far more heartiness, he declaimed a few + things that he had learned since; and still the clatter and rumble sounded + from below. + </p> + <p> + It was a relief to him when he heard the sergeant push his chair back and + move heavily about the room. A minute later he heard him ascending the + stairs, and then he held his breath with horror as the foot-steps entered + the room and a heavy hand was laid on the cupboard door. + </p> + <p> + “Elsie!” bawled the sergeant. “Where's the key of my cupboard? I want my + other boots.” + </p> + <p> + “They're down here,” cried the voice of Miss Pilbeam, and the skipper, + hardly able to believe in his good fortune, heard the sergeant go + downstairs again. + </p> + <p> + At the expiration of another week—by his own reckoning—he + heard the light, hurried footsteps of Miss Pilbeam come up the stairs and + pause at the door. + </p> + <p> + “H'st!” he said, recklessly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm coming,” said the girl. “Don't be impatient.” + </p> + <p> + A key turned in the lock, the door was flung open, and the skipper, dazed + and blinking with the sudden light, stumbled into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Father's gone,” said Miss Pilbeam. + </p> + <p> + The skipper made no answer. He was administering first aid to a right leg + which had temporarily forgotten how to perform its duties, varied with + slaps and pinches at a left which had gone to sleep. At intervals he + turned a red-rimmed and reproachful eye on Miss Pilbeam. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-14" id="linkimage-14"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/014.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'He Was Administering First Aid to a Right Leg.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “You want a wash and some breakfast,” she said, softly, “especially a + wash. There's water and a towel, and while you're making yourself tidy + I'll be getting breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper hobbled to the wash-stand, and, dipping his head in a basin of + cool water, began to feel himself again. By the time he had done his hair + in the sergeant's glass and twisted his moustache into shape he felt + better still, and he went downstairs almost blithely. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry it was your father,” he said, as he took a seat at the + table. “Very.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why you laughed, I suppose?” said the girl, tossing her head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've had the worst of it,” said the other. “I'd sooner be upset a + hundred times than spend a night in that cupboard. However, all's well + that ends well.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Miss Pilbeam, dolefully, “but is it the end?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh put down his knife and fork and eyed her uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; don't spoil your breakfast,” said the girl. “I'll tell you + afterwards. It's horrid to think, after all my trouble, of your doing two + months as well as a night in the cupboard.” + </p> + <p> + “Beastly,” said the unfortunate, eying her in great concern. “But what's + the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “One can't think of everything,” said Miss Pilbeam, “but, of course, we + ought to have thought of the mate getting uneasy when you didn't turn up + last night, and going to the police-station with a description of you.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper started and smote the table with his fist. + </p> + <p> + “Father's gone down to watch the ship now,” said Miss Pilbeam. “Of course, + it's the exact description of the man that assaulted him. Providential he + called it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the worst of having a fool for a mate,” said the skipper, + bitterly. “What business was it of his, I should like to know? What's it + got to do with him whether I turn up or not? What does he want to + interfere for?” + </p> + <p> + “It's no good blaming him,” said Miss Pilbeam, thinking deeply, with her + chin on her finger. “The thing is, what is to be done? Once father gets + his hand on you——” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered; so did the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “I might get off with a fine; I didn't hurt him,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam shook her head. “They're very strict in Woodhatch,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I was a fool to touch him at all,” said the repentant skipper. “High + spirits, that's what it was. High spirits, and being spoken to as if I was + a child.” + </p> + <p> + “The thing is, how are you to escape?” said the girl. “It's no good going + out of doors with the police and half the people in Woodhatch all on the + look-out for you.” + </p> + <p> + “If I could only get aboard I should be all right,” muttered the skipper. + “I could keep down the fo'-c's'le while the mate took the ship out.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam sat in deep thought. “It's the getting aboard that's the + trouble,” she said, slowly. “You'd have to disguise yourself. It would + have to be a good disguise, too, to pass my father, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh gave a gloomy assent. + </p> + <p> + “The only thing for you to do, so far as I can see,” said the girl, + slowly, “is to make yourself up like a coalie. There are one or two + colliers in the harbor, and if you took off your coat—I could send + it on afterwards—rubbed yourself all over with coal-dust, and shaved + off your moustache, I believe you would escape.” + </p> + <p> + “Shave!” ejaculated the skipper, in choking accents. “Rub—! + Coal-dust!” + </p> + <p> + “It's your only chance,” said Miss Pilbeam. + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh leaned back frowning, and from sheer force of habit passed + the ends of his moustache slowly through his fingers. “I think the + coal-dust would be enough,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + The girl shook her head. “Father particularly noticed your moustache,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody does,” said the skipper, with mournful pride. “I won't part + with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not for my sake?” inquired Miss Pilbeam, eying him mournfully. “Not after + all I've done for you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the other, stoutly. + </p> + <p> + Miss Pilbeam put her handkerchief to her eyes and, with a suspicious + little sniff, hurried from the room. Captain Bligh, much affected, waited + for a few seconds and then went in pursuit of her. Fifteen minutes later, + shorn of his moustache, he stood in the coal-hole, sulkily smearing + himself with coal. + </p> + <p> + “That's better,” said the girl; “you look horrible.” + </p> + <p> + She took up a handful of coal-dust and, ordering him to stoop, shampooed + him with hearty good-will. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-15" id="linkimage-15"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/015.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'She Took up a Handful of Coal-dust And, Ordering Him To Stoop, Shampooed Him With Hearty Good-will.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “No good half doing it,” she declared. “Now go and look at yourself in the + glass in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper went, and came back in a state of wild-eyed misery. Even Miss + Pilbeam's statement that his own mother would not know him failed to lift + the cloud from his brow. He stood disconsolate as the girl opened the + front door. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” she said, gently. “Write and tell me when you are safe.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh promised, and walked slowly up the road. So far from people + attempting to arrest him, they vied with each other in giving him + elbow-room. He reached the harbor unmolested, and, lurking at a convenient + corner, made a careful survey. A couple of craft were working out their + coal, a small steamer was just casting loose, and a fishing-boat gliding + slowly over the still water to its berth. His own schooner, which lay near + the colliers, had apparently knocked off work pending his arrival. For + Sergeant Pilbeam he looked in vain. + </p> + <p> + He waited a minute or two, and then, with a furtive glance right and left, + strolled in a careless fashion until he was abreast of one of the + colliers. Nobody took any notice of him, and, with his hands in his + pockets, he gazed meditatively into the water and edged along towards his + own craft. His foot trembled as he placed it on the plank that formed the + gangway, but, resisting the temptation to look behind, he gained the deck + and walked forward. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa! What do you want?” inquired a sea-man, coming out of the galley. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Bill,” said the skipper, in a low voice. “Don't take any + notice of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said the seaman, starting. “Good lor'! What ha' you——” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” said the skipper, fiercely; and, walking to the forecastle, + placed his hand on the scuttle and descended with studied slowness. As he + reached the floor the perturbed face of Bill blocked the opening. + </p> + <p> + “Had an accident, cap'n?” he inquired, respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “No,” snapped the skipper. “Come down here—quick! Don't stand up + there attracting attention. Do you want the whole town round you? Come + down!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right where I am,” said Bill, backing hastily as the skipper, + putting a foot on the ladder, thrust a black and furious face close to + his. + </p> + <p> + “Clear out, then,” hissed the skipper. “Go and send the mate to me. Don't + hurry. And if anybody noticed me come aboard and should ask you who I am, + say I'm a pal of yours.” + </p> + <p> + The seaman, marvelling greatly, withdrew, and the skipper, throwing + himself on a locker, wiped a bit of grit out of his eye and sat down to + wait for the mate. He was so long in coming that he waxed impatient, and + ascending a step of the ladder again peeped on to the deck. The first + object that met his gaze was the figure of the mate leaning against the + side of the ship with a wary eye on the scuttle. + </p> + <p> + “Come here,” said the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “Anything wrong?” inquired the mate, retreating a couple of paces in + disorder. + </p> + <p> + “Come—here!” repeated the skipper. + </p> + <p> + The mate advanced slowly, and in response to an imperative command from + the skipper slowly descended and stood regarding him nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; you may look,” said the skipper, with sudden ferocity. “This is all + your doing. Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + He caught the mate by the coat as he was making for the ladder, and hauled + him back again. + </p> + <p> + “You'll go when I've finished with you,” he said, grimly. “Now, what do + you mean by it? Eh? What do you mean by it?” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” said the mate, in a soothing voice. “Don't get + excited.” + </p> + <p> + “Look at me!” said the skipper. “All through your interfering. How dare + you go making inquiries about me?” + </p> + <p> + “Me?” said the mate, backing as far as possible. “Inquiries?” + </p> + <p> + “What's it got to do with you if I stay out all night?” pursued the + skipper. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said the other, feebly. + </p> + <p> + “What did you go to the police about me for, then?” demanded the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “Me?” said the mate, in the shrill accents of astonishment. “Me? I didn't + go to no police about you. Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you didn't report my absence last night to the + police?” said the skipper, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Cert'nly not,” said the mate, plucking up courage. “Why should I? If you + like to take a night off it's nothing to do with me. I 'ope I know my duty + better. I don't know what you're talking about.” + </p> + <p> + “And the police haven't been watching the ship and inquiring for me?” + asked the skipper. + </p> + <p> + The mate shook his bewildered head. “Why should they?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + The skipper made no reply. He sat goggle-eyed, staring straight before + him, trying in vain to realize the hardness of the heart that had been + responsible for such a scurvy trick. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, it ain't the fust time you've been out all night,” remarked the + mate, aggressively. + </p> + <p> + The skipper favored him with a glance the dignity of which was somewhat + impaired by his complexion, and in a slow and stately fashion ascended to + the deck. Then he caught his breath sharply and paled beneath the coaldust + as he saw Sergeant Pilbeam standing on the quay, opposite the ship. By his + side stood Miss Pilbeam, and both, with a far-away look in their eyes, + were smiling vaguely but contentedly at the horizon. The sergeant appeared + to be the first to see the skipper. + </p> + <p> + “Ahoy, Darkie!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + Captain Bligh, who was creeping slowly aft, halted, and, clenching his + fists, regarded him ferociously. + </p> + <p> + “Give this to the skipper, will you, my lad?” said the sergeant, holding + up the jacket Bligh had left behind. “Good-looking young man with a very + fine moustache he is.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-16" id="linkimage-16"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/016.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Give This to the Skipper, Will You, My Lad?' Said The Sergeant. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Was,” said his daughter, in a mournful voice. + </p> + <p> + “And a rather dark complexion,” continued the sergeant, grinning madly. “I + was going to take him—for stealing my coal—but I thought + better of it. Thought of a better way. At least, my daughter did. So long, + Darkie.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed the top of a fat middle finger, and, turning away, walked off + with Miss Pilbeam. The skipper stood watching them with his head swimming + until, arrived at the corner, they stopped and the sergeant came slowly + back. + </p> + <p> + “I was nearly forgetting,” he said, slowly. “Tell your skipper that if so + be as he wants to apologize—for stealing my coal—I shall be at + home at tea at five o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + He jerked his thumb in the direction of Miss Pilbeam and winked with slow + deliberation. “She'll be there, too,” he added. “Savvy?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_5" id="link2H_4_5"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + “MATRIMONIAL OPENINGS” + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Dowson sat by the kitchen fire smoking and turning a docile and + well-trained ear to the heated words which fell from his wife's lips. + </p> + <p> + “She'll go and do the same as her sister Jenny done,” said Mrs. Dowson, + with a side glance at her daughter Flora; “marry a man and then 'ave to + work and slave herself to skin and bone to keep him.” + </p> + <p> + “I see Jenny yesterday,” said her husband, nodding. “Getting quite fat, + she is.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” said Mrs. Dowson, violently, “that's right! The moment I + say something you go and try and upset it.” + </p> + <p> + “Un'ealthy fat, p'r'aps,” said Mr. Dowson, hurriedly; “don't get enough + exercise, I s'pose.” + </p> + <p> + “Anybody who didn't know you, Joe Dowson,” said his wife, fiercely, “would + think you was doing it a purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “Doing wot?” inquired Mr. Dowson, removing his pipe and regarding her + open-mouthed. “I only said——” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you said,” retorted his wife. “Here I do my best from morning + to night to make everybody 'appy and comfortable; and what happens?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said the sympathetic Mr. Dowson, shaking his head. “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyway, Jenny ain't married a fool,” said Mrs. Dowson, hotly; “she's got + that consolation.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, mother,” said the innocent Mr. Dowson, “look on the bright + side o' things a bit. If Jenny 'ad married a better chap I don't suppose + we should see half as much of her as wot we do.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm talking of Flora,” said his wife, restraining herself by an effort. + “One unfortunate marriage in the family is enough; and here, instead o' + walking out with young Ben Lippet, who'll be 'is own master when his + father dies, she's gadding about with that good-for-nothing Charlie Foss.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowson shook his head. “He's so good-looking, is Charlie,” he said, + slowly; “that's the worst of it. Wot with 'is dark eyes and his curly 'air——” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” said his wife, passionately, “go on!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowson, dimly conscious that something was wrong, stopped and puffed + hard at his pipe. Through the cover of the smoke he bestowed a sympathetic + wink upon his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't go on too fast,” said the latter, turning to her mother. “I + haven't made up my mind yet. Charlie's looks are all right, but he ain't + over and above steady, and Ben is steady, but he ain't much to look at.” + </p> + <p> + “What does your 'art say?” inquired the sentimental Mr. Dowson. + </p> + <p> + Neither lady took the slightest notice. + </p> + <p> + “Charlie Foss is too larky,” said Mrs. Dowson, solemnly; “it's easy come + and easy go with 'im. He's just such another as your father's cousin Bill—and + look what 'appened to him!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dowson shrugged her shoulders and subsiding in her chair, went on + with her book, until a loud knock at the door and a cheerful, but + peculiarly shrill, whistle sounded outside. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-17" id="linkimage-17"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/017.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Miss Dowson, Subsiding in Her Chair, Went on With Her Book.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “There is my lord,” exclaimed Mrs. Dowson, waspishly; “anybody might think + the 'ouse belonged to him. And now he's dancing on my clean doorstep.” + </p> + <p> + “Might be only knocking the mud off afore coming in,” said Mr. Dowson, as + he rose to open the door. “I've noticed he's very careful.” + </p> + <p> + “I just came in to tell you a joke,” said Mr. Foss, as he followed his + host into the kitchen and gazed tenderly at Miss Dowson—“best joke I + ever had in my life; I've 'ad my fortune told—guess what it was! + I've been laughing to myself ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told it?” inquired Mrs. Dowson, after a somewhat awkward silence. + </p> + <p> + “Old gypsy woman in Peter Street,” replied Mr. Foss. “I gave 'er a wrong + name and address, just in case she might ha' heard about me, and she did + make a mess of it; upon my word she did.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot did she say?” inquired Mr. Dowson. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Foss laughed. “Said I was a wrong 'un,” he said, cheerfully, “and + would bring my mother's gray hairs to the grave with sorrow. I'm to 'ave + bad companions and take to drink; I'm to steal money to gamble with, and + after all that I'm to 'ave five years for bigamy. I told her I was + disappointed I wasn't to be hung, and she said it would be a + disappointment to a lot of other people too. Laugh! I thought I should + 'ave killed myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see nothing to laugh at,” said Mrs. Dowson, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't tell anybody else, Charlie,” said her husband. “Keep it a + secret, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “But you—you don't believe it?” stammered the crestfallen Mr. Foss. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson cast a stealthy glance at her daughter. “Its wonderful 'ow + some o' those fortune-tellers can see into the future,” she said, shaking + her head. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said her husband, with a confirmatory nod. “Wonderful is no name for + it. I 'ad my fortune told once when I was a boy, and she told me I should + marry the prettiest, and the nicest, and the sweetest-tempered gal in + Poplar.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Foss, with a triumphant smile, barely waited for him to finish. “There + you—” he began, and stopped suddenly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-18" id="linkimage-18"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/018.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'I Just Came in to Tell You a Joke.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “What was you about to remark?” inquired Mrs. Dowson, icily. + </p> + <p> + “I was going to say,” replied Mr. Foss—“I was going to say—I + 'ad just got it on the tip o' my tongue to say, 'There you—you—you + 'ad all the luck, Mr. Dowson.'” + </p> + <p> + He edged his chair a little nearer to Flora; but there was a chilliness in + the atmosphere against which his high spirits strove in vain. Mr. Dowson + remembered other predictions which had come true, notably the case of one + man who, learning that he was to come in for a legacy, gave up a + two-pound-a-week job, and did actually come in for twenty pounds and a + bird-cage seven years afterwards. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-19" id="linkimage-19"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/019.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'He Edged his Chair a Little Nearer to Flora.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “It's all nonsense,” protested Mr. Foss; “she only said all that because I + made fun of her. You don't believe it, do you, Flora?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see anything to laugh at,” returned Miss Dowson. “Fancy five + years for bigamy! Fancy the disgrace of it!” + </p> + <p> + “But you're talking as if I was going to do it,” objected Mr. Foss. “I + wish you'd go and 'ave your fortune told. Go and see what she says about + you. P'r'aps you won't believe so much in fortune-telling afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson looked up quickly, and then, lowering her eyes, took her hand + out of the stocking she had been darning and, placing it beside its + companion, rolled the pair into a ball. + </p> + <p> + “You go round to-morrow night, Flora,” she said, deliberately. “It sha'n't + be said a daughter of mine was afraid to hear the truth about herself; + father'll find the money.” + </p> + <p> + “And she can say what she likes about you, but I sha'n't believe it,” said + Mr. Foss, reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “I don't suppose it'll be anything to be ashamed of,” said Miss Dowson, + sharply. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Foss bade them good-night suddenly, and, finding himself accompanied + to the door by Mr. Dowson, gave way to gloom. He stood for so long with + one foot on the step and the other on the mat that Mr. Dowson, who + disliked draughts, got impatient. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-20" id="linkimage-20"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/020.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Mr. Foss Bade Them Good-night Suddenly.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “You'll catch cold, Charlie,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I'm trying to do,” said Mr. Foss; “my death o' cold. Then I + sha'n't get five years for bigamy,” he added bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up,” said Mr. Dowson; “five years ain't much out of a lifetime; and + you can't expect to 'ave your fun without—” + </p> + <p> + He watched the retreating figure of Mr. Foss as it stamped its way down + the street, and closing the door returned to the kitchen to discuss + palmistry and other sciences until bedtime. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson saw husband and daughter off to work in the morning, and after + washing up the breakfast things drew her chair up to the kitchen fire and + became absorbed in memories of the past. All the leading incidents in + Flora's career passed in review before her. Measles, whooping-cough, + school-prizes, and other things peculiar to the age of innocence were all + there. In her enthusiasm she nearly gave her a sprained ankle which had + belonged to her sister. Still shaking her head over her mistake, she drew + Flora's latest portrait carefully from its place in the album, and putting + on her hat and jacket went round to make a call in Peter Street. + </p> + <p> + By the time Flora returned home Mrs. Dowson appeared to have forgotten the + arrangement made the night before, and, being reminded by her daughter, + questioned whether any good could come of attempts to peer into the + future. Mr. Dowson was still more emphatic, but his objections, being + recognized by both ladies as trouser-pocket ones, carried no weight. It + ended in Flora going off with half a crown in her glove and an urgent + request from her father to make it as difficult as possible for the sibyl + by giving a false name and address. + </p> + <p> + No name was asked for, however, as Miss Dowson was shown into the untidy + little back room on the first floor, in which the sorceress ate, slept, + and received visitors. She rose from an old rocking-chair as the visitor + entered, and, regarding her with a pair of beady black eyes, bade her sit + down. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the fortune-teller?” inquired the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Men call me so,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but are you?” persisted Miss Dowson, who inherited her father's + fondness for half crowns. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the other, in a more natural voice. + </p> + <p> + She took the girl's left hand, and pouring a little dark liquid into the + palm gazed at it intently. “Left for the past; right for the future,” she + said, in a deep voice. + </p> + <p> + She muttered some strange words and bent her head lower over the girl's + hand. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-21" id="linkimage-21"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/021.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'She Muttered Some Strange Words and Bent Her Head Lower Over the Girl's Hand.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “I see a fair-haired infant,” she said, slowly; “I see a little girl of + four racked with the whooping-cough; I see her later, eight she appears to + be. She is in bed with measles.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Dowson stared at her open-mouthed. + </p> + <p> + “She goes away to the seaside to get strong,” continued the sorceress; + “she is paddling; she falls into the water and spoils her frock; her + mother——” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about that,” interrupted the staring Miss Dowson, hastily. “I + was only eight at the time and mother always was ready with her hands.” + </p> + <p> + “People on the beach smile,” resumed the other. “They—” + </p> + <p> + “It don't take much to make some people laugh,” said Miss Dowson, with + bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “At fourteen she and a boy next door but seven both have the mumps.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” demanded Miss Dowson with great warmth. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm only reading what I see in your hand,” said the other. “At fifteen I + see her knocked down by a boat-swing; a boy from opposite brings her + home.” + </p> + <p> + “Passing at the time,” murmured Miss Dowson. + </p> + <p> + “His head is done up with sticking-plaster. I see her apprenticed to a + dressmaker. I see her——” + </p> + <p> + The voice went on monotonously, and Flora, gasping with astonishment, + listened to a long recital of the remaining interesting points in her + career. + </p> + <p> + “That brings us to the present,” said the soothsayer, dropping her hand. + “Now for the future.” + </p> + <p> + She took the girl's other hand and poured some of the liquid into it. Miss + Dowson shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “If it's anything dreadful,” she said, quickly, “I don't want to hear it. + It—it ain't natural.” + </p> + <p> + “I can warn you of dangers to keep clear of,” said the other, detaining + her hand. “I can let you peep into the future and see what to do and what + to avoid. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + She bent over the girl's hand again and uttered little ejaculations of + surprise and perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “I see you moving in gay scenes surrounded by happy faces,” she said, + slowly. “You are much sought after. Handsome presents and fine clothes are + showered upon you. You will cross the sea. I see a dark young man and a + fair young man. They will both influence your life. The fair young man + works in his father's shop. He will have great riches.” + </p> + <p> + “What about the other?” inquired Miss Dowson, after a somewhat lengthy + pause. + </p> + <p> + The fortune-teller shook her head. “He is his own worst enemy,” she said, + “and he will drag down those he loves with him. You are going to marry one + of them, but I can't see clear—I can't see which.” + </p> + <p> + “Look again,” said the trembling Flora. + </p> + <p> + “I can't see,” was the reply, “therefore it isn't meant for me to see. + It's for you to choose. I can see them now as plain as I can see you. You + are all three standing where two roads meet. The fair young man is + beckoning to you and pointing to a big house and a motor-car and a yacht.” + </p> + <p> + “And the other?” said the surprised Miss Dowson. + </p> + <p> + “He's in knickerbockers,” said the other, doubtfully. “What does that + mean? Ah, I see! They've got the broad arrow on them, and he is pointing + to a jail. It's all gone—I can see no more.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped the girl's hand and, drawing her hand across her eyes, sank + back into her chair. Miss Dowson, with trembling fingers, dropped the half + crown into her lap, and, with her head in a whirl, made her way + downstairs. + </p> + <p> + After such marvels the streets seemed oddly commonplace as she walked + swiftly home. She decided as she went to keep her knowledge to herself, + but inclination on the one hand and Mrs. Dowson on the other got the + better of her resolution. With the exception of a few things in her past, + already known and therefore not worth dwelling upon, the whole of the + interview was disclosed. + </p> + <p> + “It fair takes your breath away,” declared the astounded Mr. Dowson. + </p> + <p> + “The fair young man is meant for Ben Lippet,” said his wife, “and the dark + one is Charlie Foss. It must be. It's no use shutting your eyes to + things.” + </p> + <p> + “It's as plain as a pikestaff,” agreed her husband. “And she told Charlie + five years for bigamy, and when she's telling Flora's Fortune she sees 'im + in convict's clothes. How she does it I can't think.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a gift,” said Mrs. Dowson, briefly, “and I do hope that Flora is + going to act sensible. Anyhow, she can let Ben Lippet come and see her, + without going upstairs with the tooth-ache.” + </p> + <p> + “He can come if he likes,” said Flora; “though why Charlie couldn't have + 'ad the motor-car and 'im the five years, I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lippet came in the next evening, and the evening after. In fact, so + easy is it to fall into habits of an agreeable nature that nearly every + evening saw him the happy guest of Mr. Dowson. A spirit of resignation, + fostered by a present or two and a visit to the theatre, descended upon + Miss Dowson. Fate and her mother combined were in a fair way to overcome + her inclinations, when Mr. Foss, who had been out of town on a job, came + in to hear the result of her visit to the fortune-teller, and found Mr. + Lippet installed in the seat that used to be his. + </p> + <p> + At first Mrs. Dowson turned a deaf ear to his request for information, and + it was only when his jocularity on the subject passed the bounds of + endurance that she consented to gratify his curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't want to tell you,” she said, when she had finished, “but you + asked for it, and now you've got it.” + </p> + <p> + “It's very amusing,” said Mr. Foss. “I wonder who the dark young man in + the fancy knickers is?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I daresay you'll know some day,” said Mrs. Dowson. + </p> + <p> + “Was the fair young man a good-looking chap?” inquired the inquisitive Mr. + Foss. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson hesitated. “Yes,” she said, defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “Wonder who it can be?” muttered Mr. Foss, in perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “You'll know that too some day, no doubt,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad it's to be a good-looking chap,” he said; “not that I think + Flora believes in such rubbish as fortune-telling. She's too sensible.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said Flora. “How should she know all the things I did when I was a + little girl? Tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe in it, too,” said Mrs. Dowson. “P'r'aps you'll tell me I'm not + sensible!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Foss quailed at the challenge and relapsed into moody silence. The + talk turned on an aunt of Mr. Lippet's, rumored to possess money, and an + uncle who was “rolling” in it. He began to feel in the way, and only his + native obstinacy prevented him from going. + </p> + <p> + It was a relief to him when the front door opened and the heavy step of + Mr. Dowson was heard in the tiny passage. If anything it seemed heavier + than usual, and Mr. Dowson's manner when he entered the room and greeted + his guests was singularly lacking in its usual cheerfulness. He drew a + chair to the fire, and putting his feet on the fender gazed moodily + between the bars. + </p> + <p> + “I've been wondering as I came along,” he said at last, with an obvious + attempt to speak carelessly, “whether this 'ere fortune-telling as we've + been hearing so much about lately always comes out true.” + </p> + <p> + “It depends on the fortune-teller,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” said Mr. Dowson, slowly, “I mean that gypsy woman that Charlie + and Flora went to.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it does,” snapped his wife. “I'd trust what she says afore + anything.” + </p> + <p> + “I know five or six that she has told,” said Mr. Lippet, plucking up + courage; “and they all believe 'er. They couldn't help themselves; they + said so.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, she might make a mistake sometimes,” said Mr. Dowson, faintly. + “Might get mixed up, so to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said Mrs. Dowson, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” echoed Flora and Mr. Lippet. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowson heaved a big sigh, and his eye wandered round the room. It + lighted on Mr. Foss. + </p> + <p> + “She's an old humbug,” said that gentleman. “I've a good mind to put the + police on to her.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowson reached over and gripped his hand. Then he sighed again. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, it suits Charlie Foss to say so,” said Mrs. Dowson; “naturally + he'd say so; he's got reasons. I believe every word she says. If she told + me I was coming in for a fortune I should believe her; and if she told me + I was going to have misfortunes I should believe her.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that,” shouted Mr. Dowson, with startling energy. “Don't say + that. That's what she did say!” + </p> + <p> + “What?” cried his wife, sharply. “What are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “I won eighteenpence off of Bob Stevens,” said her husband, staring at the + table. “Eighteenpence is 'er price for telling the future only, and, being + curious and feeling I'd like to know what's going to 'appen to me, I went + in and had eighteenpennorth.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're upset,” said Mrs. Dowson, with a quick glance at him. “You + get upstairs to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd sooner stay 'ere,” said her husband, resuming his seat; “it seems + more cheerful and lifelike. I wish I 'adn't gorn, that's what I wish.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she tell you?” inquired Mr. Foss. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowson thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and spoke + desperately. “She says I'm to live to ninety, and I'm to travel to foreign + parts——” + </p> + <p> + “You get to bed,” said his wife. “Come along.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowson shook his head doggedly. “I'm to be rich,” he continued, slowly—“rich + and loved. After my pore dear wife's death I'm to marry again; a young + woman with money and stormy brown eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson sprang from her chair and stood over him quivering with + passion. “How dare you?” she gasped. “You—you've been drinking.” + </p> + <p> + “I've 'ad two arf-pints,” said her husband, solemnly. “I shouldn't 'ave + 'ad the second only I felt so miserable. I know I sha'n't be 'appy with a + young woman.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson, past speech, sank back in her chair and stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't worry about it if I was you, Mrs. Dowson,” said Mr. Foss, + kindly. “Look what she said about me. That ought to show you she ain't to + be relied on.” + </p> + <p> + “Eyes like lamps,” said Mr. Dowson, musingly, “and I'm forty-nine next + month. Well, they do say every eye 'as its own idea of beauty.” + </p> + <p> + A strange sound, half laugh and half cry, broke from the lips of the + over-wrought Mrs. Dowson. She controlled herself by an effort. + </p> + <p> + “If she said it,” she said, doggedly, with a fierce glance at Mr. Foss, + “it'll come true. If, after my death, my 'usband is going to marry a young + woman with—with——” + </p> + <p> + “Stormy brown eyes,” interjected Mr. Foss, softly. + </p> + <p> + “It's his fate and it can't be avoided,” concluded Mrs. Dowson. + </p> + <p> + “But it's so soon,” said the unfortunate husband. “You're to die in three + weeks and I'm to be married three months after.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson moistened her lips and tried, but in vain, to avoid the + glittering eye of Mr. Foss. “Three!” she said, mechanically, “three! three + weeks!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be frightened,” said Mr. Foss, in a winning voice. “I don't believe + it; and, besides, we shall soon see! And if you don't die in three weeks, + perhaps I sha'n't get five years for bigamy, and perhaps Flora won't marry + a fair man with millions of money and motor-cars.” + </p> + <p> + “No; perhaps she is wrong after all, mother,” said Mr. Dowson, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Dowson gave him a singularly unkind look for one about to leave him + so soon, and, afraid to trust herself to speech, left the room and went + up-stairs. As the door closed behind her, Mr. Foss took the chair which + Mr. Lippet had thoughtlessly vacated, and offered such consolations to + Flora as he considered suitable to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_6" id="link2H_4_6"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + ODD MAN OUT + </h2> + <p> + The night watchman pursed up his lips and shook his head. Friendship, he + said, decidedly, is a deloosion and a snare. I've 'ad more friendships in + my life than most people—owing to being took a fancy to for some + reason or other—and they nearly all came to a sudden ending. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-22" id="linkimage-22"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/022.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Friendship, he Said, Decidedly, is a Deloosion and A Snare.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + I remember one man who used to think I couldn't do wrong; everything I did + was right to 'im; and now if I pass 'im in the street he makes a face as + if he'd got a hair in 'is mouth. All because I told 'im the truth one day + when he was thinking of getting married. Being a bit uneasy-like in his + mind, he asked me 'ow, supposing I was a gal, his looks would strike me. + </p> + <p> + It was an orkard question, and I told him that he 'ad got a good 'art and + that no man could 'ave a better pal. I said he 'ad got a good temper and + was free with 'is money. O' course, that didn't satisfy 'im, and at last + he told me to take a good look at 'im and tell him wot I thought of 'is + looks. There was no getting out of it, and at last I 'ad to tell him plain + that everybody 'ad diff'rent ideas about looks; that looks wasn't + everything; and that 'andsome is as 'andsome does. Even then 'e wasn't + satisfied, and at last I told 'im, speaking as a pal to a pal, that if I + was a gal and he came along trying to court me, I should go to the police + about it. + </p> + <p> + I remember two young fellers that was shipmates with me some years ago, + and they was such out-and-out pals that everybody called 'em the Siamese + twins. They always shipped together and shared lodgings together when they + was ashore, and Ted Denver would no more 'ave thought of going out without + Charlie Brice than Charlie Brice would 'ave thought of going out without + 'im. They shared their baccy and their money and everything else, and it's + my opinion that if they 'ad only 'ad one pair o' boots between 'em they'd + 'ave hopped along in one each. + </p> + <p> + They 'ad been like it for years, and they kept it up when they left the + sea and got berths ashore. Anybody knowing them would ha' thought that + nothing but death could part 'em; but it happened otherwise. + </p> + <p> + There was a gal in it, of course. A gal that Ted Denver got into + conversation with on top of a bus, owing to her steadying 'erself by + putting her hand on 'is shoulder as she passed 'im. Bright, lively sort o' + gal she seemed, and, afore Ted knew where he was, they was talking away as + though they 'ad known each other for years. + </p> + <p> + Charlie didn't seem to care much for it at fust, but he didn't raise no + objection; and when the gal got up to go he stopped the bus for 'er by + poking the driver in the back, and they all got off together. Ted went + fust to break her fall, in case the bus started off too sudden, and + Charlie 'elped her down behind by catching hold of a lace collar she was + wearing. When she turned to speak to 'im about it, she knocked the + conductor's hat off with 'er umbrella, and there was so much + unpleasantness that by the time they 'ad got to the pavement she told + Charlie that she never wanted to see his silly fat face agin. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't fat,” ses Ted, speaking up for 'im; “it's the shape of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And it ain't silly,” ses Charlie, speaking very quick; “mind that!” + </p> + <p> + “It's a bit o' real lace,” ses the gal, twisting her 'ead round to look at + the collar; “it cost me one and two-three only last night.” + </p> + <p> + “One an' <i>wot?</i>” ses Charlie, who, not being a married man, didn't + understand 'er. + </p> + <p> + “One shilling,” ses the gal, “two pennies, and three farthings. D'ye + understand that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “He's cleverer than he looks,” ses the gal, turning to Ted. “I s'pose + you're right, and it is the shape after all.” + </p> + <p> + Ted walked along one side of 'er and Charlie the other, till they came to + the corner of the road where she lived, and then Ted and 'er stood there + talking till Charlie got sick and tired of it, and kept tugging at Ted's + coat for 'im to come away. + </p> + <p> + “I'm coming,” ses Ted, at last. “I s'pose you won't be this way to-morrow + night?” he ses, turning to the gal. + </p> + <p> + “I might if I thought there was no chance of seeing you,” she ses, tossing + her 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't be alarmed,” ses Charlie, shoving in his oar; “we're going to + a music-'all to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to your blessed music-'all,” ses the gal to Ted; “I don't want + you.” + </p> + <p> + She turned round and a'most ran up the road, with Ted follering 'er and + begging of 'er not to be so hasty, and afore they parted she told 'im that + 'er name was Emma White, and promised to meet 'im there the next night at + seven. + </p> + <p> + O' course Mr. Charlie Brice turned up alongside o' Ted the next night, and + at fust Emma said she was going straight off 'ome agin. She did go part o' + the way, and then, when she found that Ted wouldn't send his mate off, she + came back and, woman-like, said as 'ow she wasn't going to go 'ome just to + please Charlie Brice. She wouldn't speak a word to 'im, and when they all + went to the music-'all together she sat with her face turned away from 'im + and her elbow sticking in 'is chest. Doing that and watching the + performance at the same time gave 'er a stiff neck, and she got in such a + temper over it she wouldn't hardly speak to Ted, and when Charlie—meaning + well—told 'er to rub it with a bit o' mutton-fat she nearly went off + her 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “Who asked you to come with us?” she ses, as soon as she could speak. “'Ow + dare you force yourself where you ain't wanted?” + </p> + <p> + “Ted wants me,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “We've been together for years,” ses Ted. “You'll like Charlie when you + get used to 'im—everybody does.” + </p> + <p> + “Not me!” ses Emma, with a shiver. “It gives me the fair creeps to look at + him. You'll 'ave to choose between us. If he comes, I sha'n't. Which is it + to be?” + </p> + <p> + Neither of 'em answered 'er, but the next night they both turned up as + usual, and Emma White stood there looking at 'em and nearly crying with + temper. + </p> + <p> + “'Ow would you like it if I brought another young lady with me?” she ses + to Ted. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't make no difference to me,” ses Ted. “Any friend o' yours is + welcome.” + </p> + <p> + Emma stood looking at 'em, and then she patted 'er eyes with a + pocket-'ankercher and began to look more cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “You ain't the only one that has got a dear friend,” she says, looking at + 'im and wiping 'er lips with the 'ankercher. “I've got one, and if Charlie + Brice don't promise to stay at 'ome to-morrow night I'll bring her with + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring 'er, and welcome,” ses Ted. + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't stay at 'ome for fifty dear friends,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “Have it your own way,” ses Emma. “If you come, Sophy Jennings comes, + that's all.” + </p> + <p> + She was as good as 'er word, too, and next night when they turned up they + found Emma and 'er friend waiting for them. Charlie thought it was the + friend's mother at fust, but he found out arterwards that she was a + widder-woman. She had 'ad two husbands, and both of 'em 'ad passed away + with a smile on their face. She seemed to take a fancy to Charlie the + moment she set eyes on 'im, and two or three times, they'd 'ave lost Ted + and Emma if it hadn't been for 'im. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-23" id="linkimage-23"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/023.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'When They Turned up They Found Emma and 'er Friend Waiting for Them.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + They did lose 'em the next night, and Charlie Brice 'ad Mrs. Jennings all + alone to himself for over a couple of hours walking up and down the + Commercial Road talking about the weather; Charles saying 'ow wet and cold + it was, and thinking p'r'aps they 'ad better go off 'ome afore she got a + chill. + </p> + <p> + He complained to Ted about it when 'e got 'ome, and Ted promised as it + shouldn't 'appen agin. He said that 'im and Emma 'ad been so busy talking + about getting married that he 'ad forgotten to keep an eye on him. + </p> + <p> + “Married!” ses Charlie, very upset. “Married! And wot's to become o' me?” + </p> + <p> + “Come and lodge with us,” ses Ted. + </p> + <p> + They shook hands on it, but Ted said they 'ad both better keep it to + themselves a bit and wait until Emma 'ad got more used to Charlie afore + they told her. Ted let 'er get used to 'im for three days more afore he + broke the news to 'er, and the way she went on was alarming. She went on + for over ten minutes without taking breath, and she was just going to + start again when Mrs. Jennings stopped her. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” she ses. “You leave 'im alone.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not touching 'im,” ses Emma, very scornful. + </p> + <p> + “You leave 'im alone,” ses Mrs. Jennings, taking hold of Charlie's arm. “I + don't say things about your young man.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie Brice started as if he 'ad been shot, and twice he opened 'is + mouth to speak and show Mrs. Jennings 'er mistake; but, wot with trying to + find 'is voice in the fust place, and then finding words to use it with in + the second, he didn't say anything. He just walked along gasping, with 'is + mouth open like a fish. + </p> + <p> + “Don't take no notice of 'er, Charlie,” ses Mrs. Jennings. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't mind wot she ses,” ses pore Charlie; “but you're making a + great——” + </p> + <p> + “She's quick-tempered, is Emma,” ses Mrs. Jennings. “But, there, so am I. + Wot you might call a generous temper, but quick.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie went cold all over. + </p> + <p> + “Treat me well and I treat other people well,” ses Mrs. Jennings. “I can't + say fairer than that, can I?” + </p> + <p> + Charlie said “Nobody could,” and then 'e walked along with her hanging on + to 'is arm, arf wondering whether it would be wrong to shove 'er under a + bus that was passing, and arf wondering whether 'e could do it if it + wasn't. + </p> + <p> + “As for Emma saying she won't 'ave you for a lodger,” ses Mrs. Jennings, + “let 'er wait till she's asked. She'll wait a long time if I 'ave my say.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie didn't answer her. He walked along with 'is mouth shut, his idea + being that the least said the soonest mended. Even Emma asked 'im at last + whether he 'ad lost 'is tongue, and said it was curious 'ow different love + took different people. + </p> + <p> + He talked fast enough going 'ome with Ted though, and pretty near lost 'is + temper with 'im when Ted asked 'im why he didn't tell Mrs. Jennings + straight that she 'ad made a mistake. + </p> + <p> + “She knows well enough,” he says, grinding 'is teeth; “she was just trying + it on. That's 'ow it is widders get married agin. You'll 'ave to choose + between going out with me or Emma, Ted. I can't face Mrs. Jennings again. + I didn't think anybody could 'ave parted us like that.” + </p> + <p> + Ted said it was all nonsense, but it was no good, and the next night he + went off alone and came back very cross, saying that Mrs. Jennings 'ad + been with 'em all the time, and when 'e spoke to Emma about it she said it + was just tit for tat, and reminded 'im 'ow she had 'ad to put up with + Charlie. For four nights running 'e went out for walks, with Emma holding + one of 'is arms and Mrs. Jennings the other. + </p> + <p> + “It's miserable for you all alone 'ere by yourself; Charlie,” he ses. “Why + not come? She can't marry you against your will. Besides, I miss you.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie shook 'ands with 'im, but 'e said 'e wouldn't walk out with Mrs. + Jennings for a fortune. And all that Ted could say made no difference. He + stayed indoors of an evening reading the paper, or going for little walks + by 'imself, until at last Ted came 'ome one evening, smiling all over his + face, and told 'im they had both been making fools of themselves for + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Jennings is going to be married,” he ses, clapping Charlie on the + back. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Wot?</i>” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + Ted nodded. “Her and Emma 'ad words to-night,” he ses, laughing, “and it + all come out. She's been keeping company for some time. He's away at + present, and they're going to be married as soon as 'e comes back.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” ses Charlie, “why did she——” + </p> + <p> + “To oblige Emma,” ses Ted, “to frighten you into staying at 'ome. I'd 'ad + my suspicions for some time, from one or two things I picked up.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” ses Charlie. “Well, it'll be my turn to laugh to-morrow night. We'll + see whether she can shake me off agin.” + </p> + <p> + Ted looked at 'im a bit worried. “It's a bit orkard,” he ses, speaking + very slow. “You see, they made it up arterwards, and then they both made + me promise not to tell you, and if you come, they'll know I 'ave.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie did a bit o' thinking. “Not if I pretend to make love to Mrs. + Jennings?” he ses, at last, winking at 'im. “And it'll serve her right for + being deceitful. We'll see 'ow she likes it. Wot sort o' chap is the young + man—big?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't be,” ses Ted; “cos Emma called 'im a little shrimp.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll come,” ses Charlie; “and it'll be your own fault if they find out + you told me about it.” + </p> + <p> + They fell asleep talking of it, and the next evening Charlie put on a new + neck-tie he 'ad bought, and arter letting Ted have arf an hour's start + went out and met 'em accidental. The fust Mrs. Jennings knew of 'is being + there was by finding an arm put round 'er waist. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening, Sophy,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “'Ow—'ow dare you?” ses Mrs. Jennings, giving a scream and pushing + him away. + </p> + <p> + Charlie looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Why, ain't you pleased to see me?” he ses. “I've 'ad the raging toothache + for over a week; I've got it now a bit, but I couldn't stay away from you + any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “You behave yourself,” ses Mrs. Jennings. + </p> + <p> + “Ted didn't say anything about your toothache,” ses Emma. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't let 'im, for fear of alarming Sophy,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jennings gave a sort of laugh and a sniff mixed. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you pleased to see me agin?” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to see you,” ses Mrs. Jennings. “Wot d'ye think I want to + see you for?” + </p> + <p> + “Change your mind pretty quick, don't you?” ses Charlie. “It's blow 'ot + and blow cold with you seemingly. Why, I've been counting the minutes till + I should see you agin.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jennings told 'im not to make a fool of 'imself, and Charlie saw 'er + look at Emma in a puzzled sort of way, as if she didn't know wot to make + of it. She kept drawing away from 'im and he kept drawing close to 'er; + other people on the pavement dodging and trying to get out of their way, + and asking them which side they was going and to stick to it. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you behave yourself?” ses Emma, at last. + </p> + <p> + “We're all right,” ses Charlie; “you look arter your own young man. We can + look arter ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak for yourself,” ses Mrs. Jennings, very sharp. + </p> + <p> + Charlie laughed, and the more Mrs. Jennings showed 'er dislike for 'is + nonsense the more he gave way to it. Even Ted thought it was going too + far, and tried to interfere when he put his arm round Mrs. Jennings's + waist and made 'er dance to a piano-organ; but there was no stopping 'im, + and at last Mrs. Jennings said she had 'ad enough of it, and told Emma she + was going off 'ome. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-24" id="linkimage-24"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/024.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'He Put his Arm Round Mrs. Jennings's Waist and Made 'er Dance to a Piano-organ.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Don't take no notice of 'im,” ses Emma. + </p> + <p> + “I must,” ses Mrs. Jennings, who was arf crying with rage. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you go 'ome, I shall go,” ses Emma. “I don't want 'is company. I + believe he's doing it on purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Behave yourself, Charlie,” ses Ted. + </p> + <p> + “All right, old man,” ses Charlie. “You look arter your young woman and + I'll look arter mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Your wot?” ses Mrs. Jennings, very loud. + </p> + <p> + “My young woman,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “Look 'ere,” ses Emma. “You may as well know first as last—Sophy 'as + got a young man.” + </p> + <p> + “O' course she 'as,” ses Charlie. “Twenty-seven on the second of next + January, he is; same as me.” + </p> + <p> + “She's going to be married,” ses Emma, very solemn. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to me,” ses Charlie, pretending to be surprised. “Didn't you know + that?” + </p> + <p> + He looked so pleased with 'imself at his cleverness that Emma arf put up + her 'and, and then she thought better of it and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “He's just doing it to get rid of you,” she ses to Mrs. Jennings, “and if + you give way you're a bigger silly than I took you for. Let 'im go on and + 'ave his own way, and tell your intended about 'im when you see 'im. Arter + all, you started it.” + </p> + <p> + “I was only 'aving a bit o' fun,” ses Mrs. Jennings. + </p> + <p> + “Well, so is he,” ses Emma. + </p> + <p> + “Not me!” ses Charlie, turning his eyes up. “I'm in dead earnest; and so + is she. It's only shyness on 'er part; it'll soon wear off.” + </p> + <p> + He took 'old of Mrs. Jennings's arm agin and began to tell 'er 'ow lonely + 'is life was afore she came acrost his path like an angel that had lost + its way. And he went on like that till she told Emma that she'd either + 'ave to go off 'ome or scream. Ted interfered agin then, and, arter + listening to wot he 'ad got to say, Charlie said as 'ow he'd try and keep + his love under control a bit more. + </p> + <p> + “She won't stand much more of it,” he ses to Ted, arter they 'ad got 'ome + that night. “I shouldn't be surprised if she don't turn up to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Ted shook his 'ead. “She'll turn up to oblige Emma,” he ses; “but there's + no need for you to overdo it, Charlie. If her young man 'appened to get to + 'ear of it it might cause trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't afraid of 'im,” ses Charlie, “not if your description of 'im is + right.” + </p> + <p> + “Emma knows 'im,” ses Ted, “and I know she don't think much of 'im. She + says he ain't as big as I am.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie smiled to himself and laid awake for a little while thinking of + pet names to surprise Mrs. Jennings with. He called 'er a fresh one every + night for a week, and every night he took 'er a little bunch o' flowers + with 'is love. When she flung 'em on the pavement he pretended to think + she 'ad dropped 'em; but, do wot he would, 'e couldn't frighten 'er into + staying away, and 'is share of music-'alls and bus rides and things like + that was more than 'e cared to think of. All the time Ted was as happy as + a sand-boy, and one evening when Emma asked 'im to go 'ome to supper 'e + was so pleased 'e could 'ardly speak. + </p> + <p> + “Father thought he'd like to see you,” ses Emma. “I shall be proud to + shake 'im by the 'and,” ses Ted, going red with joy. + </p> + <p> + “And you're to come, too, Sophy,” ses Emma, turning to Mrs. Jennings. + </p> + <p> + Charlie coughed, feeling a bit orkard-like, and Emma stood there as if + waiting for 'im to go. + </p> + <p> + “Well, so long,” ses Charlie at last. “Take care o' my little prize + packet.” + </p> + <p> + “You can come, too, if you like,” ses Emma. “Father said I was to bring + you. Don't 'ave none of your nonsense there, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie thanked 'er, and they was all walking along, him and Mrs. Jennings + behind, when Emma looked over 'er shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Sophy's young man is coming,” she ses. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” ses Charlie. He walked along doing a bit o' thinking, and by and by + 'e gives a little laugh, and he ses, “I—I don't think p'r'aps I'll + come arter all.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid?” ses Emma, with a nasty laugh. + </p> + <p> + “No,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it looks like it,” ses Emma. + </p> + <p> + “He's brave enough where wimmen are concerned,” ses Mrs. Jennings. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of you,” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't trouble about me,” ses Mrs. Jennings. “I can look after + myself, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie looked round, but there was no help for it. He got as far away + from Mrs. Jennings as possible, and when they got to Emma's house he went + in last. + </p> + <p> + Emma's father and mother was there and two or three of 'er brothers and + sisters, but the fust thing that Charlie noticed was a great lump of a man + standing by the mantelpiece staring at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, and make yourselves at 'ome,” ses Mr. White. “I'm glad to see + you both. Emma 'as told me all about you.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie's 'art went down into 'is boots, but every-body was so busy + drawing their chairs up to the table that they didn't notice 'ow pale he + 'ad gone. He sat between Mr. White and Mrs. Jennings, and by and by, when + everybody was talking, he turned to 'im in a whisper, and asked 'im who + the big chap was. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Jennings's brother,” ses Mr. White; “brewer's drayman he is.” + </p> + <p> + Charlie said, “Oh!” and went on eating, a bit relieved in 'is mind. + </p> + <p> + “Your friend and my gal 'll make a nice couple,” ses Mr. White, looking at + Ted and Emma, sitting 'and in 'and. + </p> + <p> + “She couldn't 'ave a better husband,” ses Charlie, whispering again; “but + where is Mrs. Jennings's young man? I 'eard he was to be here.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. White put down 'is knife and fork. “Eh?” he ses, staring at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Jennings's intended?” ses Charlie. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you getting at?” ses Mr. White, winking at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “But she 'as got one, ain't she?” ses Charlie. “That'll do,” ses Mr. + White, with another wink. “Try it on somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot are you two talking about?” ses Emma, who 'ad been watching 'em. + </p> + <p> + “He's trying to pull my leg,” ses 'er father, smiling all over his face. + “Been asking me where Mrs. Jennings's young man is. P'r'aps you oughtn't + to 'ave told us yet, Emma.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” ses Emma. “He's got a very jealous disposition, poor + fellow; and me and Sophy have been telling 'im about a young man just to + tease 'im. We've been describing him to 'imself all along, and he thought + it was somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + She caught Charlie's eye, and all in a flash he saw 'ow he 'ad been done. + Some of 'em began to laugh, and Mrs. Jennings put her 'and on his and gave + it a squeeze. He sat there struck all of a heap, wondering wot he was + going to do, and just at that moment there was a knock at the street door. + </p> + <p> + “I'll open it,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + He jumped up before anybody could stop 'im and went to the door. Two + seconds arter Ted Denver followed 'im, and that is last he ever saw of + Charlie Brice, he was running down the road without 'is hat as hard as he + could run. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-25" id="linkimage-25"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/025.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'He Was Running Down the Road Without 'is Hat As Hard As He Could Run.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_7" id="link2H_4_7"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + “THE TOLL-HOUSE” + </h2> + <p> + “It's all nonsense,” said Jack Barnes. “Of course people have died in the + house; people die in every house. As for the noises—wind in the + chimney and rats in the wainscot are very convincing to a nervous man. + Give me another cup of tea, Meagle.” + </p> + <p> + “Lester and White are first,” said Meagle, who was presiding at the + tea-table of the Three Feathers Inn. “You've had two.” + </p> + <p> + Lester and White finished their cups with irritating slowness, pausing + between sips to sniff the aroma, and to discover the sex and dates of + arrival of the “strangers” which floated in some numbers in the beverage. + Mr. Meagle served them to the brim, and then, turning to the grimly + expectant Mr. Barnes, blandly requested him to ring for hot water. + </p> + <p> + “We'll try and keep your nerves in their present healthy condition,” he + remarked. “For my part I have a sort of half-and-half belief in the + super-natural.” + </p> + <p> + “All sensible people have,” said Lester. “An aunt of mine saw a ghost + once.” + </p> + <p> + White nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I had an uncle that saw one,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It always is somebody else that sees them,” said Barnes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there is a house,” said Meagle, “a large house at an absurdly low + rent, and nobody will take it. It has taken toll of at least one life of + every family that has lived there—however short the time—and + since it has stood empty caretaker after caretaker has died there. The + last caretaker died fifteen years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” said Barnes. “Long enough ago for legends to accumulate.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet you a sovereign you won't spend the night there alone, for all + your talk,” said White, suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Lester. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Barnes slowly. “I don't believe in ghosts nor in any + supernatural things whatever; all the same I admit that I should not care + to pass a night there alone.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not?” inquired White. + </p> + <p> + “Wind in the chimney,” said Meagle with a grin. + </p> + <p> + “Rats in the wainscot,” chimed in Lester. +</p> + <p> +“As you like,” said Barnes + coloring. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we all go,” said Meagle. “Start after supper, and get there about + eleven. We have been walking for ten days now without an adventure—except + Barnes's discovery that ditchwater smells longest. It will be a novelty, + at any rate, and, if we break the spell by all surviving, the grateful + owner ought to come down handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see what the landlord has to say about it first,” said Lester. + “There is no fun in passing a night in an ordinary empty house. Let us + make sure that it is haunted.” + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell, and, sending for the landlord, appealed to him in the + name of our common humanity not to let them waste a night watching in a + house in which spectres and hobgoblins had no part. The reply was more + than reassuring, and the landlord, after describing with considerable art + the exact appearance of a head which had been seen hanging out of a window + in the moonlight, wound up with a polite but urgent request that they + would settle his bill before they went. + </p> + <p> + “It's all very well for you young gentlemen to have your fun,” he said + indulgently; “but supposing as how you are all found dead in the morning, + what about me? It ain't called the Toll-House for nothing, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Who died there last?” inquired Barnes, with an air of polite derision. + </p> + <p> + “A tramp,” was the reply. “He went there for the sake of half a crown, and + they found him next morning hanging from the balusters, dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Suicide,” said Barnes. “Unsound mind.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord nodded. “That's what the jury brought it in,” he said slowly; + “but his mind was sound enough when he went in there. I'd known him, off + and on, for years. I'm a poor man, but I wouldn't spend the night in that + house for a hundred pounds.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-26" id="linkimage-26"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/026.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'I'm a Poor Man, But I Wouldn't Spend the Night in That House for a Hundred Pounds.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + He repeated this remark as they started on their expedition a few hours + later. They left as the inn was closing for the night; bolts shot noisily + behind them, and, as the regular customers trudged slowly homewards, they + set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the house. Most of the + cottages were already in darkness, and lights in others went out as they + passed. + </p> + <p> + “It seems rather hard that we have got to lose a night's rest in order to + convince Barnes of the existence of ghosts,” said White. + </p> + <p> + “It's in a good cause,” said Meagle. “A most worthy object; and something + seems to tell me that we shall succeed. You didn't forget the candles, + Lester?” + </p> + <p> + “I have brought two,” was the reply; “all the old man could spare.” + </p> + <p> + There was but little moon, and the night was cloudy. The road between high + hedges was dark, and in one place, where it ran through a wood, so black + that they twice stumbled in the uneven ground at the side of it. + </p> + <p> + “Fancy leaving our comfortable beds for this!” said White again. “Let me + see; this desirable residential sepulchre lies to the right, doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Farther on,” said Meagle. + </p> + <p> + They walked on for some time in silence, broken only by White's tribute to + the softness, the cleanliness, and the comfort of the bed which was + receding farther and farther into the distance. Under Meagle's guidance + they turned off at last to the right, and, after a walk of a quarter of a + mile, saw the gates of the house before them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-27" id="linkimage-27"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/027.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'They Saw the Gates of The House Before Them.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + The lodge was almost hidden by overgrown shrubs and the drive was choked + with rank growths. Meagle leading, they pushed through it until the dark + pile of the house loomed above them. + </p> + <p> + “There is a window at the back where we can get in, so the landlord says,” + said Lester, as they stood before the hall door. + </p> + <p> + “Window?” said Meagle. “Nonsense. Let's do the thing properly. Where's the + knocker?” + </p> + <p> + He felt for it in the darkness and gave a thundering rat-tat-tat at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Don't play the fool,” said Barnes crossly. + </p> + <p> + “Ghostly servants are all asleep,” said Meagle gravely, “but I'll wake + them up before I've done with them. It's scandalous keeping us out here in + the dark.” + </p> + <p> + He plied the knocker again, and the noise volleyed in the emptiness + beyond. Then with a sudden exclamation he put out his hands and stumbled + forward. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it was open all the time,” he said, with an odd catch in his voice. + “Come on.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it was open,” said Lester, hanging back. “Somebody is + playing us a trick.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” said Meagle sharply. “Give me a candle. Thanks. Who's got a + match?” + </p> + <p> + Barnes produced a box and struck one, and Meagle, shielding the candle + with his hand, led the way forward to the foot of the stairs. “Shut the + door, somebody,” he said, “there's too much draught.” + </p> + <p> + “It is shut,” said White, glancing behind him. + </p> + <p> + Meagle fingered his chin. “Who shut it?” he inquired, looking from one to + the other. “Who came in last?” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” said Lester, “but I don't remember shutting it—perhaps I + did, though.” + </p> + <p> + Meagle, about to speak, thought better of it, and, still carefully + guarding the flame, began to explore the house, with the others close + behind. Shadows danced on the walls and lurked in the corners as they + proceeded. At the end of the passage they found a second staircase, and + ascending it slowly gained the first floor. + </p> + <p> + “Careful!” said Meagle, as they gained the landing. + </p> + <p> + He held the candle forward and showed where the balusters had broken away. + Then he peered curiously into the void beneath. + </p> + <p> + “This is where the tramp hanged himself, I suppose,” he said thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “You've got an unwholesome mind,” said White, as they walked on. “This + place is quite creepy enough without your remembering that. Now let's find + a comfortable room and have a little nip of whiskey apiece and a pipe. How + will this do?” + </p> + <p> + He opened a door at the end of the passage and revealed a small square + room. Meagle led the way with the candle, and, first melting a drop or two + of tallow, stuck it on the mantelpiece. The others seated themselves on + the floor and watched pleasantly as White drew from his pocket a small + bottle of whiskey and a tin cup. + </p> + <p> + “H'm! I've forgotten the water,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> +“I'll soon get some,” said Meagle. + </p> + <p> + He tugged violently at the bell-handle, and the rusty jangling of a bell + sounded from a distant kitchen. He rang again. + </p> + <p> + “Don't play the fool,” said Barnes roughly. + </p> + <p> + Meagle laughed. “I only wanted to convince you,” he said kindly. “There + ought to be, at any rate, one ghost in the servants' hall.” + </p> + <p> + Barnes held up his hand for silence. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Meagle with a grin at the other two. “Is anybody coming?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we drop this game and go back,” said Barnes suddenly. “I don't + believe in spirits, but nerves are outside anybody's command. You may + laugh as you like, but it really seemed to me that I heard a door open + below and steps on the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + His voice was drowned in a roar of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “He is coming round,” said Meagle with a smirk. “By the time I have done + with him he will be a confirmed believer. Well, who will go and get some + water? Will you, Barnes?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “If there is any it might not be safe to drink after all these years,” + said Lester. “We must do without it.” + </p> + <p> + Meagle nodded, and taking a seat on the floor held out his hand for the + cup. Pipes were lit and the clean, wholesome smell of tobacco filled the + room. White produced a pack of cards; talk and laughter rang through the + room and died away reluctantly in distant corridors. + </p> + <p> + “Empty rooms always delude me into the belief that I possess a deep + voice,” said Meagle. “To-morrow——” + </p> + <p> + He started up with a smothered exclamation as the light went out suddenly + and something struck him on the head. The others sprang to their feet. + Then Meagle laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It's the candle,” he exclaimed. “I didn't stick it enough.” + </p> + <p> + Barnes struck a match and relighting the candle stuck it on the + mantelpiece, and sitting down took up his cards again. + </p> + <p> + “What was I going to say?” said Meagle. “Oh, I know; to-morrow I——” + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” said White, laying his hand on the other's sleeve. “Upon my word + I really thought I heard a laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” said Barnes. “What do you say to going back? I've had enough + of this. I keep fancying that I hear things too; sounds of something + moving about in the passage outside. I know it's only fancy, but it's + uncomfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “You go if you want to,” said Meagle, “and we will play dummy. Or you + might ask the tramp to take your hand for you, as you go downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Barnes shivered and exclaimed angrily. He got up and, walking to the + half-closed door, listened. + </p> + <p> + “Go outside,” said Meagle, winking at the other two. “I'll dare you to go + down to the hall door and back by yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Barnes came back and, bending forward, lit his pipe at the candle. + </p> + <p> + “I am nervous but rational,” he said, blowing out a thin cloud of smoke. + “My nerves tell me that there is something prowling up and down the long + passage outside; my reason tells me that it is all nonsense. Where are my + cards?” + </p> + <p> + He sat down again, and taking up his hand, looked through it carefully and + led. + </p> + <p> + “Your play, White,” he said after a pause. White made no sign. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he is asleep,” said Meagle. “Wake up, old man. Wake up and play.” + </p> + <p> + Lester, who was sitting next to him, took the sleeping man by the arm and + shook him, gently at first and then with some roughness; but White, with + his back against the wall and his head bowed, made no sign. Meagle bawled + in his ear and then turned a puzzled face to the others. + </p> + <p> + “He sleeps like the dead,” he said, grimacing. “Well, there are still + three of us to keep each other company.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Lester, nodding. “Unless—Good Lord! suppose——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off and eyed them trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose what?” inquired Meagle. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” stammered Lester. “Let's wake him. Try him again. <i>White! + White!</i>” + </p> + <p> + “It's no good,” said Meagle seriously; “there's something wrong about that + sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I meant,” said Lester; “and if he goes to sleep like that, + why shouldn't——” + </p> + <p> + Meagle sprang to his feet. “Nonsense,” he said roughly. “He's tired out; + that's all. Still, let's take him up and clear out. You take his legs and + Barnes will lead the way with the candle. Yes? Who's that?” + </p> + <p> + He looked up quickly towards the door. “Thought I heard somebody tap,” he + said with a shamefaced laugh. “Now, Lester, up with him. One, two— + Lester! Lester!” + </p> + <p> + He sprang forward too late; Lester, with his face buried in his arms, had + rolled over on the floor fast asleep, and his utmost efforts failed to + awaken him. + </p> + <p> + “He—is—asleep,” he stammered. “Asleep!” + </p> + <p> + Barnes, who had taken the candle from the mantel-piece, stood peering at + the sleepers in silence and dropping tallow over the floor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-28" id="linkimage-28"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/028.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Barnes, Stood Peering at the Sleepers in Silence And Dropping Tallow over the Floor.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “We must get out of this,” said Meagle. “Quick!” Barnes hesitated. “We + can't leave them here—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “We must,” said Meagle in strident tones. “If you go to sleep I shall go—Quick! + Come.” + </p> + <p> + He seized the other by the arm and strove to drag him to the door. Barnes + shook him off, and putting the candle back on the mantelpiece, tried again + to arouse the sleepers. + </p> + <p> + “It's no good,” he said at last, and, turning from them, watched Meagle. + “Don't you go to sleep,” he said anxiously. + </p> + <p> + Meagle shook his head, and they stood for some time in uneasy silence. + “May as well shut the door,” said Barnes at last. + </p> + <p> + He crossed over and closed it gently. Then at a scuffling noise behind him + he turned and saw Meagle in a heap on the hearthstone. + </p> + <p> + With a sharp catch in his breath he stood motionless. Inside the room the + candle, fluttering in the draught, showed dimly the grotesque attitudes of + the sleepers. Beyond the door there seemed to his over-wrought imagination + a strange and stealthy unrest. He tried to whistle, but his lips were + parched, and in a mechanical fashion he stooped, and began to pick up the + cards which littered the floor. + </p> + <p> + He stopped once or twice and stood with bent head listening. The unrest + outside seemed to increase; a loud creaking sounded from the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” he cried loudly. + </p> + <p> + The creaking ceased. He crossed to the door and flinging it open, strode + out into the corridor. As he walked his fears left him suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Come on!” he cried with a low laugh. “All of you! All of you! Show your + faces—your infernal ugly faces! Don't skulk!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again and walked on; and the heap in the fireplace put out his + head tortoise fashion and listened in horror to the retreating footsteps. + Not until they had become inaudible in the distance did the listeners' + features relax. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, Lester, we've driven him mad,” he said in a frightened + whisper. “We must go after him.” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. Meagle sprung to his feet. “Do you hear?” he cried. + “Stop your fooling now; this is serious. White! Lester! Do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + He bent and surveyed them in angry bewilderment. “All right,” he said in a + trembling voice. “You won't frighten me, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away and walked with exaggerated carelessness in the direction + of the door. He even went outside and peeped through the crack, but the + sleepers did not stir. He glanced into the blackness behind, and then came + hastily into the room again. + </p> + <p> + He stood for a few seconds regarding them. The stillness in the house was + horrible; he could not even hear them breathe. With a sudden resolution he + snatched the candle from the mantelpiece and held the flame to White's + finger. Then as he reeled back stupefied the footsteps again became + audible. + </p> + <p> + He stood with the candle in his shaking hand listening. He heard them + ascending the farther staircase, but they stopped suddenly as he went to + the door. He walked a little way along the passage, and they went + scurrying down the stairs and then at a jog-trot along the corridor below. + He went back to the main staircase, and they ceased again. + </p> + <p> + For a time he hung over the balusters, listening and trying to pierce the + blackness below; then slowly, step by step, he made his way downstairs, + and, holding the candle above his head, peered about him. + </p> + <p> + “Barnes!” he called. “Where are you?” Shaking with fright, he made his way + along the passage, and summoning up all his courage pushed open doors and + gazed fearfully into empty rooms. Then, quite suddenly, he heard the + footsteps in front of him. + </p> + <p> + He followed slowly for fear of extinguishing the candle, until they led + him at last into a vast bare kitchen with damp walls and a broken floor. + In front of him a door leading into an inside room had just closed. He ran + towards it and flung it open, and a cold air blew out the candle. He stood + aghast. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-29" id="linkimage-29"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/029.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Into a Vast Bare Kitchen With Damp Walls and A Broken Floor.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Barnes!” he cried again. “Don't be afraid! It is I—Meagle!” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. He stood gazing into the darkness, and all the time + the idea of something close at hand watching was upon him. Then suddenly + the steps broke out overhead again. + </p> + <p> + He drew back hastily, and passing through the kitchen groped his way along + the narrow passages. He could now see better in the darkness, and finding + himself at last at the foot of the staircase began to ascend it + noiselessly. He reached the landing just in time to see a figure disappear + round the angle of a wall. Still careful to make no noise, he followed the + sound of the steps until they led him to the top floor, and he cornered + the chase at the end of a short passage. + </p> + <p> + “Barnes!” he whispered. “Barnes!” + </p> + <p> + Something stirred in the darkness. A small circular window at the end of + the passage just softened the blackness and revealed the dim outlines of a + motionless figure. Meagle, in place of advancing, stood almost as still as + a sudden horrible doubt took possession of him. With his eyes fixed on the + shape in front he fell back slowly and, as it advanced upon him, burst + into a terrible cry. + </p> + <p> + “Barnes! For God's sake! Is it you?” + </p> + <p> + The echoes of his voice left the air quivering, but the figure before him + paid no heed. For a moment he tried to brace his courage up to endure its + approach, then with a smothered cry he turned and fled. + </p> + <p> + The passages wound like a maze, and he threaded them blindly in a vain + search for the stairs. If he could get down and open the hall door—— + </p> + <p> + He caught his breath in a sob; the steps had begun again. At a lumbering + trot they clattered up and down the bare passages, in and out, up and + down, as though in search of him. He stood appalled, and then as they drew + near entered a small room and stood behind the door as they rushed by. He + came out and ran swiftly and noiselessly in the other direction, and in a + moment the steps were after him. He found the long corridor and raced + along it at top speed. The stairs he knew were at the end, and with the + steps close behind he descended them in blind haste. The steps gained on + him, and he shrank to the side to let them pass, still continuing his + headlong flight. Then suddenly he seemed to slip off the earth into space. + </p> + <p> + Lester awoke in the morning to find the sunshine streaming into the room, + and White sitting up and regarding with some perplexity a badly blistered + finger. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the others?” inquired Lester. “Gone, I suppose,” said White. + “We must have been asleep.” + </p> + <p> + Lester arose, and stretching his stiffened limbs, dusted his clothes with + his hands, and went out into the corridor. White followed. At the noise of + their approach a figure which had been lying asleep at the other end sat + up and revealed the face of Barnes. “Why, I've been asleep,” he said in + surprise. “I don't remember coming here. How did I get here?” + </p> + <p> + “Nice place to come for a nap,” said Lester, severely, as he pointed to + the gap in the balusters. “Look there! Another yard and where would you + have been?” + </p> + <p> + He walked carelessly to the edge and looked over. In response to his + startled cry the others drew near, and all three stood gazing at the dead + man below. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-30" id="linkimage-30"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/030.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'All Three Stood Gazing at the Dead Man Below.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_8" id="link2H_4_8"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + PETER'S PENCE + </h2> + <p> + Sailormen don't bother much about their relations, as a rule, said the + night-watchman; sometimes because a railway-ticket costs as much as a + barrel o' beer, and they ain't got the money for both, and sometimes + because most relations run away with the idea that a sailorman has been + knocking about 'arf over the world just to bring them 'ome presents. + </p> + <p> + Then, agin, some relations are partikler about appearances, and they don't + like it if a chap don't wear a collar and tidy 'imself up. Dress is + everything nowadays; put me in a top 'at and a tail-coat, with a twopenny + smoke stuck in my mouth, and who would know the difference between me and + a lord? Put a bishop in my clothes, and you'd ask 'im to 'ave a 'arf-pint + as soon as you would me—sooner, p'r'aps. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-31" id="linkimage-31"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/031.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Put a Bishop in My Clothes, and You'd Ask 'im to 'ave A 'arf-pint As Soon As You Would Me.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Talking of relations reminds me of Peter Russet's uncle. It's some years + ago now, and Peter and old Sam Small and Ginger Dick 'ad just come back + arter being away for nearly ten months. They 'ad all got money in their + pockets, and they was just talking about the spree they was going to have, + when a letter was brought to Peter, wot had been waiting for 'im at the + office. + </p> + <p> + He didn't like opening it at fust. The last letter he had 'ad kept 'im + hiding indoors for a week, and then made him ship a fortnight afore 'e had + meant to. He stood turning it over and over, and at last, arter Sam, wot + was always a curious man, 'ad told 'im that if he didn't open it he'd do + it for 'im, he tore it open and read it. + </p> + <p> + “It's from my old uncle, George Goodman,” he ses, staring. “Why, I ain't + seen 'im for over twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you owe 'im any money?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + Peter shook his 'ead. “He's up in London,” he ses, looking at the letter + agin, “up in London for the fust time in thirty-three years, and he wants + to come and stay with me so that I can show 'im about.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot is he?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “He's retired,” ses Peter, trying not to speak proud. + </p> + <p> + “Got money?” ses Sam, with a start. + </p> + <p> + “I b'leeve so,” ses Peter, in a off-hand way. “I don't s'pose 'e lives on + air.” + </p> + <p> + “Any wives or children?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “No,” ses Peter. “He 'ad a wife, but she died.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have 'im, Peter,” ses Sam, wot was always looking out for money. + “Don't throw away a oppertunity like that. Why, if you treat 'im well he + might leave it all to you.” + </p> + <p> + “No such luck,” ses Peter. + </p> + <p> + “You do as Sam ses,” ses Ginger. “I wish I'd got an uncle.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll try and give 'im a good time,” ses Sam, “and if he's anything like + Peter we shall enjoy ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he ain't,” ses Peter. “He's a very solemn, serious-minded man, + and a strong teetotaller. Wot you'd call a glass o' beer he'd call pison. + That's 'ow he got on. He's thought a great deal of in 'is place, I can + tell you, but he ain't my sort.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a bit orkard,” ses Sam, scratching his 'ead. “Same time, it don't + do to throw away a chance. If 'e was my uncle I should pretend to be a + teetotaller while 'e was here, just to please 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “And when you felt like a drink, Peter,” ses Ginger, “me and Sam would + look arter 'im while you slipped off to get it.” + </p> + <p> + “He could 'ave the room below us,” ses Sam. “It is empty.” + </p> + <p> + Peter gave a sniff. “Wot about you and Ginger?” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “Wot about us?” ses Sam and Ginger, both together. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you'd 'ave to be teetotallers, too,” ses Peter. “Wot's the good o' me + pretending to be steady if 'e sees I've got pals like you?” + </p> + <p> + Sam scratched his 'ead agin, ever so long, and at last he ses, “Well, + mate,” he ses, “drink don't trouble me nor Ginger. We can do without it, + as far as that goes; and we must all take it in turns to keep the old + gentleman busy while the others go and get wot they want. You'd better go + and take the room downstairs for 'im, afore it goes.” + </p> + <p> + Peter looked at 'im in surprise, but that was Sam all over. The idea o' + knowing a man with money was too much for 'im, and he sat there giving + good advice to Peter about 'is behavior until Peter didn't know whether it + was 'is uncle or Sam's. 'Owever, he took the room and wrote the letter, + and next arternoon at three o'clock Mr. Goodman came in a four-wheel cab + with a big bag and a fat umbrella. A short, stiffish-built man of about + sixty he was, with 'is top lip shaved and a bit o' short gray beard. He + 'ad on a top 'at and a tail-coat, black kid gloves and a little black bow, + and he didn't answer the cabman back a single word. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-32" id="linkimage-32"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/032.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Mr. Goodman Came in a Four-wheel Cab With A Big Bag and A Fat Umbrella.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + He seemed quite pleased to see Peter, and by and by Sam, who was bursting + with curiosity, came down-stairs to ask Peter to lend 'im a boot-lace, and + was interduced. Then Ginger came down to look for Sam, and in a few + minutes they was all talking as comfortable as possible. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't seen Peter for twenty years,” ses Mr. Goodman—“twenty long + years!” + </p> + <p> + Sam shook his 'ead and looked at the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I happened to go and see Peter's sister—my niece Polly,” ses Mr. + Goodman, “and she told me the name of 'is ship. It was quite by chance, + because she told me it was the fust letter she had 'ad from him in seven + years.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't think it was so long as that,” ses Peter. “Time passes so + quick.” + </p> + <p> + His uncle nodded. “Ah, so it does,” 'e ses. “It's all the same whether we + spend it on the foaming ocean or pass our little lives ashore. Afore we + can turn round, in a manner o' speaking, it 'as gorn.” + </p> + <p> + “The main thing,” ses Peter, in a good voice, “is to pass it properly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it don't matter,” ses Ginger. + </p> + <p> + “So it don't,” ses Sam, very serious. + </p> + <p> + “I held 'im in my arms when 'e was a baby,” ses Mr. Goodman, looking at + Peter. + </p> + <p> + “Fond o' children?” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman nodded. “Fond of everybody,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “That's 'ow Peter is,” ses Ginger; “specially young——” + </p> + <p> + Peter Russet and Sam both turned and looked at 'im very sharp. + </p> + <p> + “Children,” ses Ginger, remembering 'imself, “<i>and</i> teetotallers. I + s'pose it is being a teetotaller 'imself.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Peter a teetotaller?” ses Mr. Goodman. “I'd no idea of it. Wot a + joyful thing!” + </p> + <p> + “It was your example wot put it into his 'ead fust, I b'leeve,” ses Sam, + looking at Peter for 'im to notice 'ow clever he was. + </p> + <p> + “And then, Sam and Ginger Dick being teetotallers too,” ses Peter, “we + all, natural-like, keep together.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman said they was wise men, and, arter a little more talk, he said + 'ow would it be if they went out and saw a little bit of the great wicked + city? They all said they would, and Ginger got quite excited about it + until he found that it meant London. + </p> + <p> + They got on a bus at Aldgate, and fust of all they went to the British + Museum, and when Mr. Goodman was tired o' that—and long arter the + others was—they went into a place and 'ad a nice strong cup of tea + and a piece o' cake each. When they come out o' there they all walked + about looking at the shops until they was tired out, and arter wot Mr. + Goodman said was a very improving evening they all went 'ome. + </p> + <p> + Sam and Ginger went 'ome just for the look 'o the thing, and arter waiting + a few minutes in their room they crept downstairs agin to spend wot was + left of the evening. They went down as quiet as mice, but, for all that, + just as they was passing Mr. Goodman's room the door opened, and Peter, in + a polite voice, asked 'em to step inside. + </p> + <p> + “We was just thinking you'd be dull up there all alone,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + Sam lost 'is presence o' mind, and afore he knew wot 'e was doing 'im and + Ginger 'ad walked in and sat down. They sat there for over an hour and a + 'arf talking, and then Sam, with a look at Ginger, said they must be + going, because he 'ad got to call for a pair o' boots he 'ad left to be + mended. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Sam, wot are you thinking of?” ses Peter, who didn't want anybody to + 'ave wot he couldn't. “Why, the shop's shut.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so,” ses Sam, glaring at 'im. “Anyway, we can go and see.” + </p> + <p> + Peter said he'd go with 'im, and just as they got to the door Mr. Goodman + said he'd go too. O' course, the shops was shut, and arter Mr. Goodman 'ad + stood on Tower Hill admiring the Tower by moonlight till Sam felt ready to + drop, they all walked back. Three times Sam's boot-lace come undone, but + as the ethers all stopped too to see 'im do it up it didn't do 'im much + good. Wot with temper and dryness 'e could 'ardly bid Peter “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Sam and Ginger 'ad something the next morning, but morning ain't the time + for it; and arter they had 'ad dinner Mr. Goodman asked 'em to go to the + Zoological Gardens with 'im. He paid for them all, and he 'ad a lot to say + about kindness to animals and 'ow you could do anything with 'em a'most by + kindness. He walked about the place talking like a book, and when a fat + monkey, wot was pretending to be asleep, got a bit o' Sam's whisker, he + said it was on'y instink, and the animal had no wish to do 'im 'arm. + </p> + <p> + “Very likely thought it was doing you a kindness, Sam,” ses Ginger. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman said it was very likely, afore Sam could speak, and arter + walking about and looking at the other things they come out and 'ad a + nice, strong, 'ot cup o' tea, same as they 'ad the day before, and then + walked about, not knowing what to do with themselves. + </p> + <p> + Sam got tired of it fust, and catching Ginger's eye said he thought it was + time to get 'ome in case too much enjoyment wasn't good for 'em. His idea + was to get off with Ginger and make a night of it, and when 'e found Peter + and his uncle was coming too, he began to think that things was looking + serious. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to spile your evening,” he says, very perlite. “I must get + 'ome to mend a pair o' trowsis o' mine, but there's no need for you to + come.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll come and watch you,” ses Peter's uncle. + </p> + <p> + “And then I'm going off to bed early,” ses Sam. “Me, too,” ses Ginger, and + Peter said he could hardly keep 'is eyes open. + </p> + <p> + They got on a bus, and as Sam was about to foller Ginger and Peter on top, + Mr. Goodman took hold of 'im by the arm and said they'd go inside. He paid + two penny fares, and while Sam was wondering 'ow to tell 'im that it would + be threepence each, the bus stopped to take up a passenger and he got up + and moved to the door. + </p> + <p> + “They've gone up there,” he ses, pointing. + </p> + <p> + Afore Sam could stop 'im he got off, and Sam, full o' surprise, got off + too, and follered 'im' on to the pavement. + </p> + <p> + “Who's gone up there?” he ses, as the bus went on agin. + </p> + <p> + “Peter and Mr. Ginger Dick,” ses Mr. Goodman. “But don't you trouble. You + go 'ome and mend your trowsis.” + </p> + <p> + “But they're on the bus,” ses Sam, staring. “Dick and Peter, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman shook his 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “They got off. Didn't you see 'em?” he ses. +</p> + <p> +“No,” ses Sam, “I'll swear they didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's my mistake, I s'pose,” ses Peter's uncle. “But you get off + home; I'm not tired yet, and I'll walk.” + </p> + <p> + Sam said 'e wasn't very tired, and he walked along wondering whether Mr. + Goodman was quite right in his 'ead. For one thing, 'e seemed upset about + something or other, and kept taking little peeps at 'im in a way he + couldn't understand at all. + </p> + <p> + “It was nice tea we 'ad this arternoon,” ses Mr. Goodman at last. + </p> + <p> + “De-licious,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “Trust a teetotaller for knowing good tea,” ses Mr. Goodman. “I expect + Peter enjoyed it. I s'pose 'e is a very strict teetotaller?” + </p> + <p> + “Strict ain't the word for it,” ses Sam, trying to do 'is duty by Peter. + “We all are.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” ses Mr. Goodman, and he pushed his 'at back and looked at + Sam very serious. They walked on a bit further, and then Peter's uncle + stopped sudden just as they was passing a large public-'ouse and looked at + Sam. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want Peter to know, 'cos it might alarm 'im,” he ses, “but I've + come over a bit faint. I'll go in 'ere for 'arf a minnit and sit down. + You'd better wait outside.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll come in with you, in case you want help,” ses Sam. “I don't mind wot + people think.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman tried to persuade 'im not to, but it was all no good, and at + last 'e walked in and sat down on a tall stool that stood agin the bar, + and put his hand to his 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose we shall 'ave to 'ave something,” he ses in a whisper to Sam; + “we can't expect to come in and sit down for nothing. What'll you take?” + </p> + <p> + Sam looked at 'im, but he might just as well ha' looked at a brass + door-knob. + </p> + <p> + “I—I—I'll 'ave a small ginger-beer,” he ses at last, “a very + small one.” + </p> + <p> + “One small ginger,” ses Mr. Goodman to the bar-maid, “and one special + Scotch.” + </p> + <p> + Sam could 'ardly believe his ears, and he stood there 'oldin' his glass o' + ginger-beer and watching Peter's teetotal uncle drink whiskey, and thought + 'e must be dreaming. + </p> + <p> + “I dessay it seems very shocking to you,” ses Mr. Goodman, putting down + 'is glass and dryin' 'is lips on each other, “but I find it useful for + these attacks.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I s'pose the flavor's very nasty?” ses Sam, taking a sip at 'is + ginger-beer. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly wot you could call nasty,” ses Mr. Goodman, “though I dessay + it would seem so to you. I don't suppose you could swallow it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't s'pose I could,” ses Sam, “but I've a good mind to 'ave a try. If + it's good for one teetotaller I don't see why it should hurt another.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman looked at 'im very hard, and then he ordered a whiskey and + stood watching while Sam, arter pretending for a minnit to look at it as + though 'e didn't know wot to do with it, took a sip and let it roll round + 'is mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” ses Mr. Goodman, looking at 'im anxious-like. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't so 'orrid as I 'ad fancied,” ses Sam, lapping up the rest very + gentle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-33" id="linkimage-33"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/033.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'It Aint So 'orrid As I 'ad Fancied.' Ses Sam.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “'Ave you 'ad enough to do you all the good it ought to?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman said that it was no good 'arf doing a thing, and p'r'aps he + 'ad better 'ave one more; and arter Sam 'ad paid for the next two they + went out arm-in-arm. + </p> + <p> + “'Ow cheerful everybody looks!” ses Mr. Goodman, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “They're going to amuse theirselves, I expect,” ses Sam—“music-'alls + and such-like.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman shook his 'ead at 'em. + </p> + <p> + “Music-'alls ain't so bad as some people try to make out,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “Look 'ere; I took some drink to see what the flavor was like; suppose you + go to a music-'all to see wot that's like?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems on'y fair,” ses Peter's uncle, considering. + </p> + <p> + “It is fair,” ses Sam, and twenty minutes arterwards they was sitting in a + music-'all drinking each other's 'ealths and listening to the songs— + Mr. Goodman with a big cigar in 'is mouth and his 'at cocked over one eye, + and Sam beating time to the music with 'is pipe. + </p> + <p> + “'Ow do you like it?” he ses. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman didn't answer 'im because 'e was joining in the chorus with + one side of 'is mouth and keeping 'is cigar alight with the other. He just + nodded at 'im; but 'e looked so 'appy that Sam felt it was a pleasure to + sit there and look at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder wot Peter and Ginger is doin'?” he ses, when the song was + finished. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” ses Mr. Goodman, “and, wot's more, I don't care. If I'd + 'ad any idea that Peter was like wot he is I should never 'ave wrote to + 'im. I can't think 'ow you can stand 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “He ain't so bad,” ses Sam, wondering whether he ought to tell 'im 'arf of + wot Peter really was like. + </p> + <p> + “Bad!” ses Mr. Goodman. “I come up to London for a 'oliday—a change, + mind you—and I thought Peter and me was going to 'ave a good time. + Instead o' that, he goes about with a face as long as a fiddle. He don't + drink, 'e don't go to places of amusement—innercent places of + amusement —and 'is idea of enjoying life is to go walking about the + streets and drinking cups o' tea.” + </p> + <p> + “We must try and alter 'im,” ses Sam, arter doing a bit o' thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” ses Mr. Goodman, laying his 'and on Sam's knee. “Far be + it from me to interfere with a feller-creature's ideas o' wot's right. + Besides, he might get writing to 'is sister agin, and she might tell my + wife.” + </p> + <p> + “But Peter said she was dead,” ses Sam, very puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “I married agin,” ses Peter's uncle, in a whisper, 'cos people was telling + 'im to keep quiet, “a tartar—a perfect tartar. She's in a + 'orsepittle at present, else I shouldn't be 'ere. And I shouldn't ha' been + able to come if I 'adn't found five pounds wot she'd hid in a match-box up + the chimbley.” + </p> + <p> + “But wot'll you do when she finds it out?” ses Sam, opening 'is eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to 'ave the house cleaned and the chimbleys swept to welcome + her 'ome,” ses Mr. Goodman, taking a sip o' whiskey. “It'll be a little + surprise for her.” + </p> + <p> + They stayed till it was over, and on the bus he gave Sam some strong + peppermint lozenges wot 'e always carried about with 'im, and took some + 'imself. He said 'e found 'em helpful. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to tell Peter and Ginger?” ses Sam, as they got near + the 'ouse. + </p> + <p> + “Tell 'em?” ses Mr. Goodman. “Tell 'em the truth. How we follered 'em when + they got off the bus, and 'ave been looking for 'em ever since. I'm not + going to 'ave my 'oliday spoilt by a teetotal nevvy, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + He started on Peter, wot was sitting on his bed with Ginger waiting for + them, the moment he got inside, and all Ginger and Peter could say didn't + make any difference. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Small see you as plain as what I did,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “Plainer,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you we come straight 'ome,” ses Ginger, “and we've been + waiting for you 'ere ever since.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman shook his 'ead at 'im. “Say no more about it,” he ses, in a + kind voice. “I dessay it's rather tiresome for young men to go about with + two old ones, and in future, if you and Peter keep together, me and my + friend Mr. Small will do the same.” + </p> + <p> + Sam shook 'ands with 'im, and though Peter tried his 'ardest to make 'im + alter his mind it was no good. His uncle patted 'im on the shoulder, and + said they'd try it for a few days, at any rate, and Ginger, wot thought it + was a very good idea, backed 'im up. Everybody seemed pleased with the + idea except Peter Russet, but arter Sam 'ad told 'im in private wot a high + opinion 'is uncle 'ad got of 'im, and 'ow well off he was, 'e gave way. + </p> + <p> + They all enjoyed the next evening, and Sam and Mr. Goodman got on together + like twin brothers. They went to a place of amusement every night, and the + on'y unpleasantness that happened was when Peter's uncle knocked a + chemist's shop up at a quarter-past twelve one night to buy a penn'orth o' + peppermint lozenges. + </p> + <p> + They 'ad four of the 'appiest evenings together that Sam 'ad ever known; + and Mr. Goodman would 'ave been just as 'appy too if it hadn't ha' been + for the thoughts o' that five pounds. The more 'e thought of it the more + unlikely it seemed that 'is wife would blame it on to the sweep, and one + night he took the match-box out of 'is pocket and shook his 'ead over it + till Sam felt quite sorry for 'im. + </p> + <p> + “Don't take up your troubles afore they come,” he ses. “Orsepittles are + dangerous places.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman cheered up a bit at that, but he got miserable agin the next + night because 'is money was getting low and he wanted another week in + London. + </p> + <p> + “I've got seven shillings and fourpence and two stamps left,” he ses. + “Where it's all gone to I can't think.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry about that,” ses Sam. “I've got a pound or two left yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain't going to be a burden on you,” ses Mr. Goodman, “but another + week I must 'ave, so I must get the money somehow. Peter can't spend much, + the way he goes on.” + </p> + <p> + Sam gave a little cough. + </p> + <p> + “I'll get a pound or two out of 'im,” ses Mr. Goodman. + </p> + <p> + Sam coughed agin. “Won't he think it rather funny?” he ses, arter a bit. + </p> + <p> + “Not if it's managed properly,” ses Mr. Goodman, thinking 'ard. “I'll + tell you 'ow we'll do it. To-morrow morning, while we are eating of our + breakfast, you ask me to lend you a pound or two.” + </p> + <p> + Sam, what 'ad just taken up 'is glass for a drink, put it down agin and + stared at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “But I don't want no money,” he ses; “and, besides, you 'aven't got any.” + </p> + <p> + “You do as I tell you,” ses Mr. Goodman, “and when you've got it, you hand + it over to me, see? Ask me to lend you five pounds.” + </p> + <p> + Sam thought as 'ow the whiskey 'ad got to Mr. Goodman's 'ead at last. + 'Owever, to pacify 'im he promised to do wot 'e was told, and next + morning, when they was all at breakfast, he looks over and catches Mr. + Goodman's eye. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if I might be so bold as to ask a favor of you?” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” ses Peter's uncle, “and glad I shall be to oblige you. There + is no man I've got a greater respect for.” + </p> + <p> + “Thankee,” ses Sam. “The fact is, I've run a bit short owing to paying a + man some money I owed 'im. If you could lend me five pounds, I couldn't + thank you enough.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman put down 'is knife and fork and wrinkled up 'is forehead. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry,” he ses, feeling in 'is pockets; “do you want it to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I should like it,” ses Sam. + </p> + <p> + “It's most annoying,” ses Mr. Goodman, “but I was so afraid o' pickpockets + that I didn't bring much away with me. If you could wait till the day + arter to-morrow, when my money is sent to me, you can 'ave ten if you + like.” + </p> + <p> + “You're very kind,” ses Sam, “but that 'ud be too late for me. I must try + and get it somewhere else.” Peter and Ginger went on eating their + breakfast, but every time Peter looked up he caught 'is uncle looking at + 'im in such a surprised and disappointed sort o' way that 'e didn't like + the look of it at all. + </p> + <p> + “I could just do it for a couple o' days, Sam,” he ses at last, “but it'll + leave me very short.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” ses his uncle, smiling. “My nevvy, Peter Russet, will lend + it to you, Mr. Small, of 'is own free will. He 'as offered afore he was + asked, and that's the proper way to do it, in my opinion.” + </p> + <p> + He reached acrost the table and shook 'ands with Peter, and said that + generosity ran in their family, and something seemed to tell 'im as Peter + wouldn't lose by it. Everybody seemed pleased with each other, and arter + Ginger Dick and Peter 'ad gone out Mr. Goodman took the five pounds off of + old Sam and stowed 'em away very careful in the match-box. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-34" id="linkimage-34"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/034.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'He Reached Acrost the Table and Shook 'ands With Peter.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “It's nice to 'ave money agin,” he ses. “There's enough for a week's + enjoyment here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” ses Sam, slow-like; “but wot I want to know is, wot about the day + arter to-morrow, when Peter expects 'is money?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Goodman patted 'im on the shoulder. “Don't you worry about Peter's + troubles,” he ses. “I know exactly wot to do; it's all planned out. Now + I'm going to 'ave a lay down for an hour—I didn't get much sleep + last night—and if you'll call me at twelve o'clock we'll go + somewhere. Knock loud.” + </p> + <p> + He patted 'im on the shoulder agin, and Sam, arter fidgeting about a bit, + went out. The last time he ever see Peter's uncle he was laying on the bed + with 'is eyes shut, smiling in his sleep. And Peter Russet didn't see Sam + for eighteen months. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_9" id="link2H_4_9"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Letts had left his ship by mutual arrangement, and the whole of the + crew had mustered to see him off and to express their sense of relief at + his departure. After some years spent in long voyages, he had fancied a + trip on a coaster as a change, and, the schooner Curlew having no use for + a ship's carpenter, had shipped as cook. He had done his best, and the + unpleasant epithets that followed him along the quay at Dunchurch as he + followed in the wake of his sea-chest were the result. Master and mate + nodded in grim appreciation of the crew's efforts. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-35" id="linkimage-35"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/035.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'After Some Years Spent in Long Voyages' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + He put his chest up at a seamen's lodging-house, and, by no means + perturbed at this sudden change in his fortunes, sat on a seat overlooking + the sea, with a cigarette between his lips, forming plans for his future. + His eyes closed, and he opened them with a start to find that a + middle-aged woman of pleasant but careworn appearance had taken the other + end of the bench. + </p> + <p> + “Fine day,” said Mr. Letts, lighting another cigarette. + </p> + <p> + The woman assented and sat looking over the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Ever done any cooking?” asked Mr. Letts, presently. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty,” was the surprised reply. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I just wanted to ask you how long you would boil a bit o' beef,” said Mr. + Letts. “Only from curiosity; I should never ship as cook again.” + </p> + <p> + He narrated his experience of the last few days, and, finding the listener + sympathetic, talked at some length about himself and his voyages; also of + his plans for the future. + </p> + <p> + “I lost my son at sea,” said the woman, with a sigh. “You favor him + rather.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts's face softened. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry you lost him, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “At least, I suppose he would have been like you,” said the other; “but + it's nine years ago now. He was just sixteen.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts—after a calculation—nodded. “Just my age,” he said. + “I was twenty-five last March.” + </p> + <p> + “Sailed for Melbourne,” said the woman. “My only boy.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts cleared his throat, sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “His father died a week after he sailed,” continued the other, “and three + months afterwards my boy's ship went down. Two years ago, like a fool, I + married again. I don't know why I'm talking to you like this. I suppose it + is because you remind me of him.” + </p> + <p> + “You talk away as much as you like,” said Mr. Letts, kindly. “I've got + nothing to do.” + </p> + <p> + He lit another cigarette, and, sitting in an attitude of attention, + listened to a recital of domestic trouble that made him congratulate + himself upon remaining single. + </p> + <p> + “Since I married Mr. Green I can't call my soul my own,” said the victim + of matrimony as she rose to depart. “If my poor boy had lived things would + have been different. His father left the house and furniture to him, and + that's all my second married me for, I'm sure. That and the bit o' money + that was left to me. He's selling some of my boy's furniture at this very + moment. That's why I came out; I couldn't bear it.” + </p> + <p> + “P'r'aps he'll turn up after all,” said Mr. Letts. “Never say die.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Green shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose,” said Mr. Letts, regarding her—“I s'pose you don't let + lodgings for a night or two?” Mrs. Green shook her head again. + </p> + <p> + “It don't matter,” said the young man. “Only I would sooner stay with you + than at a lodging-house. I've taken a fancy to you. I say, it would be a + lark if you did, and I went there and your husband thought I was your son, + wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Green caught her breath, and sitting down again took his arm in her + trembling fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose,” she said, unsteadily—“suppose you came round and + pretended to be my son—pretended to be my son, and stood up for me?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts stared at her in amazement, and then began to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody would know,” continued the other, quickly. “We only came to this + place just before he sailed, and his sister was only ten at the time. She + wouldn't remember.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts said he couldn't think of it, and sat staring, with an air of + great determination, at the sea. Arguments and entreaties left him + unmoved, and he was just about to express his sorrow for her troubles and + leave, when she gave a sudden start and put her arm through his. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes your sister!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts started in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “She has seen me holding your arm,” continued Mrs. Green, in a tense + whisper. “It's the only way I can explain it. Mind, your name is Jack + Foster and hers is Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts gazed at her in consternation, and then, raising his eyes, + regarded with much approval the girl who was approaching. It seemed + impossible that she could be Mrs. Green's daughter, and in the excitement + of the moment he nearly said so. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” said Mrs. Green, in a voice to which nervousness had imparted + almost the correct note—“Betty, this is your brother Jack!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts rose sheepishly, and then to his great amazement a pair of + strong young arms were flung round his neck, and a pair of warm lips— + after but slight trouble—found his. Then and there Mr. Letts's mind + was made up. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-36" id="linkimage-36"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/036.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Then and There Mr. Letts's Mind Was Made Up. " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Oh, Jack!” said Miss Foster, and began to cry softly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jack!” said Mrs. Green, and, moved by thoughts, perhaps, of what + might have been, began to cry too. + </p> + <p> + “There, there!” said Mr. Letts. + </p> + <p> + He drew Miss Foster to the seat, and, sitting between them, sat with an + arm round each. There was nothing in sight but a sail or two in the far + distance, and he allowed Miss Foster's head to lie upon his shoulder + undisturbed. An only child, and an orphan, he felt for the first time the + blessing of a sister's love. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn't you come home before?” murmured the girl. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts started and squinted reproachfully at the top of her hat. Then + he turned and looked at Mrs. Green in search of the required information. + “He was shipwrecked,” said Mrs. Green. + </p> + <p> + “I was shipwrecked,” repeated Mr. Letts, nodding. + </p> + <p> + “And had brain-fever after it through being in the water so long, and lost + his memory,” continued Mrs. Green. + </p> + <p> + “It's wonderful what water will do—salt water,” said Mr. Letts, in + confirmation. + </p> + <p> + Miss Foster sighed, and, raising the hand which was round her waist, bent + her head and kissed it. Mr. Letts colored, and squeezed her convulsively. + </p> + <p> + Assisted by Mrs. Green he became reminiscent, and, in a low voice, + narrated such incidents of his career as had escaped the assaults of the + brain-fever. That his head was not permanently injured was proved by the + perfect manner in which he remembered incidents of his childhood narrated + by his newly found mother and sister. He even volunteered one or two + himself which had happened when the latter was a year or two old. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Mrs. Green, in a somewhat trembling voice, “we must go and + tell your step-father.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts responded, but without briskness, and, with such moral support + as an arm of each could afford, walked slowly back. Arrived at a road of + substantial cottages at the back of the town, Mrs. Green gasped, and, + coming to a standstill, nodded at a van that stood half-way up the road. + </p> + <p> + “There it is,” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “What?” demanded Mr. Letts. + </p> + <p> + “The furniture I told you about,” said Mrs. Green. “The furniture that + your poor father thought such a lot of, because it used to belong to his + grandfather. He's selling it to Simpson, though I begged and prayed him + not to.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts encouraged himself with a deep cough. “My furniture?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Green took courage. “Yes,” she said, hopefully; “your father left it + to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts, carrying his head very erect, took a firmer grip of their arms + and gazed steadily at a disagreeable-looking man who was eying them in + some astonishment from the doorway. With arms still linked they found the + narrow gateway somewhat difficult, but they negotiated it by a turning + movement, and, standing in the front garden, waited while Mrs. Green tried + to find her voice. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-37" id="linkimage-37"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/037.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'A Disagreeable-looking Man Was Eying Them in Some Astonishment from the Doorway.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Jack,” she said at last, “this is your stepfather.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts, in some difficulty as to the etiquette on such occasions, + released his right arm and extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening, stepfather,” he said, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Green drew back a little and regarded him unfavorably. + </p> + <p> + “We—we thought you was drowned,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + “I was nearly,” said Mr. Letts. + </p> + <p> + “We all thought so,” pursued Mr. Green, grudgingly. “Everybody thought + so.” + </p> + <p> + He stood aside, as a short, hot-faced man, with a small bureau clasped in + his arms and supported on his knees, emerged from the house and staggered + towards the gate. Mr. Letts reflected. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” he said, suddenly. “Why, are you moving, mother?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Green sniffed sadly and shook her head. “Well,” said Mr. Letts, with + an admirable stare, “what's that chap doing with my furniture?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” spluttered Mr. Green. “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I say, what's he doing with my furniture?” repeated Mr. Letts, sternly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Green waved his arm. “That's all right,” he said, conclusively; “he's + bought it. Your mother knows.” + </p> + <p> + “But it ain't all right,” said Mr. Letts. “Here! bring that back, and + those chairs too.” + </p> + <p> + The dealer, who had just placed the bureau on the tail-board of the van, + came back wiping his brow with his sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Wots the little game?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts left the answer to Mr. Green, and going to the van took up the + bureau and walked back to the house with it. Mr. Green and the dealer + parted a little at his approach, and after widening the parting with the + bureau he placed it in the front room while he went back for the chairs. + He came back with three of them, and was, not without reason, called a + porcupine by the indignant dealer. + </p> + <p> + He was relieved to find, after Mr. Simpson had taken his departure, that + Mr. Green was in no mood for catechising him, and had evidently accepted + the story of his escape and return as a particularly disagreeable fact. So + disagreeable that the less he heard of it the better. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you've not come home after all these years to make things + unpleasant?” he remarked presently, as they sat at tea. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't be unpleasant if I tried,” said Mr. Letts. + </p> + <p> + “We've been very happy and comfortable here—me and your mother and + sister,” continued Mr. Green. “Haven't we, Emily?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said his wife, with nervous quickness. + </p> + <p> + “And I hope you'll be the same,” said Mr. Green. “It's my wish that you + should make yourself quite comfortable here—till you go to sea + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Thankee,” said Mr. Letts; “but I don't think I shall go to sea any more. + Ship's carpenter is my trade, and I've been told more than once that I + should do better ashore. Besides, I don't want to lose mother and Betty + again.” + </p> + <p> + He placed his arm round the girl's waist, and, drawing her head on to his + shoulder, met with a blank stare the troubled gaze of Mrs. Green. + </p> + <p> + “I'm told there's wonderful openings for carpenters in Australia,” said + Mr. Green, trying to speak in level tones. “Wonderful! A good carpenter + can make a fortune there in ten years, so I'm told.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts, with a slight wink at Mrs. Green and a reassuring squeeze with + his left arm, turned an attentive ear. + </p> + <p> + “O' course, there's a difficulty,” he said, slowly, as Mr. Green finished + a vivid picture of the joys of carpentering in Australia. + </p> + <p> + “Difficulty?” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “Money to start with,” explained Mr. Letts. “It's no good starting without + money. I wonder how much this house and furniture would fetch? Is it all + mine, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “M-m-most of it,” stammered Mrs. Green, gazing in a fascinated fashion at + the contorted visage of her husband. + </p> + <p> + “All except a chair in the kitchen and three stair-rods,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Speak when you're spoke to, miss!” snarled her stepfather. “When we + married we mixed our furniture up together—mixed it up so that it + would be impossible to tell which is which. Nobody could.” + </p> + <p> + “For the matter o' that, you could have all the kitchen chairs and all the + stair-rods,” said Mr. Letts, generously. “However, I don't want to do + anything in a hurry, and I shouldn't dream of going to Australia without + Betty. It rests with her.” + </p> + <p> + “She's going to be married,” said Mr. Green, hastily; “and if she wasn't + she wouldn't turn her poor, ailing mother out of house and home, that I'm + certain of. She's not that sort. We've had a word or two at times—me + and her—but I know a good daughter when I see one.” + </p> + <p> + “Married?” echoed Mr. Letts, as his left arm relaxed its pressure. “Who + to?” + </p> + <p> + “Young fellow o' the name of Henry Widden,” replied Mr. Green, “a very + steady young fellow; a great friend of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mr. Letts, blankly. + </p> + <p> + “I'd got an idea, which I've been keeping as a little surprise,” continued + Mr. Green, speaking very rapidly, “of them living here with us, and saving + house-rent and furniture.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts surveyed him with a dejected eye. + </p> + <p> + “It would be a fine start for them,” continued the benevolent Mr. Green. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts, by a strong effort, regained his composure. + </p> + <p> + “I must have a look at him first,” he said, briskly. “He mightn't meet + with my approval.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said Mr. Green, starting. “Why, if Betty——” + </p> + <p> + “I must think it over,” interrupted Mr. Letts, with a wave of his hand. + “Betty is only nineteen, and, as head of the family, I don't think she can + marry without my consent. I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Anyway, if + she does, I won't have her husband here sitting in my chairs, eating off + my tables, sleeping in my beds, wearing out my stair-rods, helping himself——” + </p> + <p> + “Stow it,” said Miss Foster, calmly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts started, and lost the thread of his discourse. “I must have a + look at him,” he concluded, lamely; “he may be all right, but then, again, + he mightn't.” + </p> + <p> + He finished his tea almost in silence, and, the meal over, emphasized his + position as head of the family by taking the easy-chair, a piece of + furniture sacred to Mr. Green, and subjecting that injured man to a + catechism which strained his powers of endurance almost to breaking-point. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I sha'n't make any change at present,” said Mr. Letts, when the + task was finished. “There's plenty of room here for us all, and, so long + as you and me agree, things can go on as they are. To-morrow morning I + shall go out and look for a job.” + </p> + <p> + He found a temporary one almost at once, and, determined to make a + favorable impression, worked hard all day. He came home tired and dirty, + and was about to go straight to the wash-house to make his toilet when Mr. + Green called him in. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, Mr. Widden,” he said, with a satisfied air, as he pointed to a + slight, fair young man with a well-trimmed moustache. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “Fine day,” said Mr. Widden. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful,” said the other. “I'll come in and have a talk about it when + I've had a wash.” + </p> + <p> + “Me and Miss Foster are going out for a bit of a stroll,” said Mr. Widden. + </p> + <p> + “Quite right,” agreed Mr. Letts. “Much more healthy than staying indoors + all the evening. If you just wait while I have a wash and a bit o' + something to eat I'll come with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Co-come with us!” said Mr. Widden, after an astonished pause. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts nodded. “You see, I don't know you yet,” he explained, “and as + head of the family I want to see how you behave yourself. Properly + speaking, my consent ought to have been asked before you walked out with + her; still, as everybody thought I was drowned, I'll say no more about + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Green knows all about me,” said Mr. Widden, rebelliously. + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing to do with him,” declared Mr. Letts. “And, besides, he's not + what I should call a judge of character. I dare say you are all right, but + I'm going to see for myself. You go on in the ordinary way with your + love-making, without taking any notice of me. Try and forget I'm watching + you. Be as natural as you can be, and if you do anything I don't like I'll + soon tell you of it.” + </p> + <p> + The bewildered Mr. Widden turned, but, reading no hope of assistance in + the infuriated eyes of Mr. Green, appealed in despair to Betty. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind,” she said. “Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Widden could have supplied her with many reasons, but he refrained, + and sat in sulky silence while Mr. Letts got ready. From his point of view + the experiment was by no means a success, his efforts to be natural being + met with amazed glances from Mr. Letts and disdainful requests from Miss + Foster to go home if he couldn't behave himself. When he relapsed into + moody silence Mr. Letts cleared his throat and spoke. + </p> + <p> + “There's no need to be like a monkey-on-a-stick, and at the same time + there's no need to be sulky,” he pointed out; “there's a happy medium.” + </p> + <p> + “Like you, I s'pose?” said the frantic suitor. “Like me,” said the other, + gravely. “Now, you watch; fall in behind and watch.” + </p> + <p> + He drew Miss Foster's arm through his and, leaning towards her with tender + deference, began a long conversation. At the end of ten minutes Mr. Widden + intimated that he thought he had learned enough to go on with. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that's only your conceit,” said Mr. Letts over his shoulder. “I was + afraid you was conceited.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to Miss Foster again, and Mr. Widden, with a despairing gesture, + abandoned himself to gloom. He made no further interruptions, but at the + conclusion of the walk hesitated so long on the door-step that Mr. Letts + had to take the initiative. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night,” he said, shaking hands. “Come round to-morrow night and I'll + give you another lesson. You're a slow learner, that's what you are; a + slow learner.” + </p> + <p> + He gave Mr. Widden a lesson on the following evening, but cautioned him + sternly against imitating the display of brotherly fondness of which, in a + secluded lane, he had been a wide-eyed observer. + </p> + <p> + “When you've known her as long as I have—nineteen years,” said Mr. + Letts, as the other protested, “things'll be a bit different. I might not + be here, for one thing.” + </p> + <p> + By exercise of great self-control Mr. Widden checked the obvious retort + and walked doggedly in the rear of Miss Foster. Then, hardly able to + believe his ears, he heard her say something to Mr. Letts. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said that gentleman, in amazed accents. + </p> + <p> + “You fall behind,” said Miss Foster. + </p> + <p> + “That—that's not the way to talk to the head of the family,” said + Mr. Letts, feebly. + </p> + <p> + “It's the way I talk to him,” rejoined the girl. + </p> + <p> + It was a position for which Mr. Letts was totally unprepared, and the + satisfied smile of Mr. Widden as he took the vacant place by no means + improved matters. In a state of considerable dismay Mr. Letts dropped + farther and farther behind until, looking up, he saw Miss Foster, attended + by her restive escort, quietly waiting for him. An odd look in her eyes as + they met his gave him food for thought for the rest of the evening. + </p> + <p> + At the end of what Mr. Letts was pleased to term a month's trial, Mr. + Widden was still unable to satisfy him as to his fitness for the position + of brother-in-law. In a spirit of gloom he made suggestions of a mutinous + nature to Mr. Green, but that gentleman, who had returned one day pale and + furious, but tamed, from an interview that related to his treatment of his + wife, held out no hopes of assistance. + </p> + <p> + “I wash my hands of him,” he said bitterly. “You stick to it; that's all + you can do.” + </p> + <p> + “They lost me last night,” said the unfortunate. “I stayed behind just to + take a stone out of my shoe, and the earth seemed to swallow them up. He's + so strong. That's the worst of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Strong?” said Mr. Green. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Widden nodded. “Tuesday evening he showed her how he upset a man once + and stood him on his head,” he said, irritably. “I was what he showed her + with.” + </p> + <p> + “Stick to it!” counselled Mr. Green again. “A brother and sister are bound + to get tired of each other before long; it's nature.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Widden sighed and obeyed. But brother and sister showed no signs of + tiring of each other's company, while they displayed unmistakable signs of + weariness with his. And three weeks later Mr. Letts, in a few well-chosen + words, kindly but firmly dismissed him. + </p> + <p> + “I should never give my consent,” he said, gravely, “so it's only wasting + your time. You run off and play.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Widden ran off to Mr. Green, but before he could get a word out + discovered that something unusual had happened. Mrs. Green, a picture of + distress, sat at one end of the room with a handkerchief to her eyes; Mr. + Green, in a condition compounded of joy and rage, was striding violently + up and down the room. + </p> + <p> + “He's a fraud!” he shouted. “A fraud! I've had my suspicions for some + time, and this evening I got it out of her.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Widden stared in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I got it out of her,” repeated Mr. Green, pointing at the trembling + woman. “He's no more her son than what you are.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said the amazed listener. + </p> + <p> + “She's been deceiving me,” said Mr. Green, with a scowl, “but I don't + think she'll do it again in a hurry. You stay here,” he shouted, as his + wife rose to leave the room. “I want you to be here when he comes in.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Green stayed, and the other two, heedless of her presence, discussed + the situation until the front door was heard to open, and Mr. Letts and + Betty came into the room. With a little cry the girl ran to her mother. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “She's lost another son,” said Mr. Green, with a ferocious sneer—“a + flash, bullying, ugly chap of the name o' Letts.” + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” said Mr. Letts, starting. + </p> + <p> + “A chap she picked up out of the street, and tried to pass off on me as + her son,” continued Mr. Green, raising his voice. “She ain't heard the end + of it yet, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts fidgeted. “You leave her alone,” he said, mildly. “It's true I'm + not her son, but it don't matter, because I've been to see a lawyer about + her, and he told me that this house and half the furniture belongs by law + to Betty. It's got nothing to do with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Mr. Green. “Now you take yourself off before I put the + police on to you. Take your face off these premises.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts, scratching his head, looked vaguely round the room. + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” vociferated Mr. Green. “Or will you have the police to put you + out?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Letts cleared his throat and moved towards the door. “You stick up for + your rights, my girl,” he said, turning to Betty. “If he don't treat your + mother well, give him back his kitchen chair and his three stair-rods and + pack him off.” + </p> + <p> + “Henry,” said Mr. Green, with dangerous calm, “go and fetch a policeman.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going,” said Mr. Letts, hastily. “Good-by, Betty; good-by, mother. I + sha'n't be long. I'm only going as far as the post-office. And that + reminds me. I've been talking so much that I quite forget to tell you that + Betty and me were married yesterday morning.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded pleasantly at the stupefied Mr. Green, and, turning to Mr. + Widden, gave him a friendly dig in the ribs with his finger. + </p> + <p> + “What's mine is Betty's,” he said, in a clear voice, “and what's Betty's + is MINE! D'ye understand, step-father?” + </p> + <p> + He stepped over to Mrs. Green, and putting a strong arm around her raised + her to her feet. “And what's mine is mother's,” he concluded, and, helping + her across the room, placed her in the best arm-chair. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-38" id="linkimage-38"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/038.jpg" width="100%" alt="'What's Mine is Mother's.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_10" id="link2H_4_10"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + PRIZE MONEY + </h2> + <p> + The old man stood by the window, gazing at the frozen fields beyond. The + sign of the Cauliflower was stiff with snow, and the breath of a pair of + waiting horses in a wagon beneath ascended in clouds of steam. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-39" id="linkimage-39"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/039.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'The Sign of the Cauliflower Was Stiff With Snow.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Amusements” he said slowly, as he came back with a shiver and, resuming + his seat by the tap-room fire, looked at the wayfarer who had been idly + questioning him. “Claybury men don't have much time for amusements. The + last one I can call to mind was Bill Chambers being nailed up in a pig-sty + he was cleaning out, but there was such a fuss made over that —by + Bill—that it sort o' disheartened people.” + </p> + <p> + He got up again restlessly, and, walking round the table, gazed long and + hard into three or four mugs. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes a little gets left in them,” he explained, meeting the + stranger's inquiring glance. The latter started, and, knocking on the + table with the handle of his knife, explained that he had been informed by + a man outside that his companion was the bitterest teetotaller in + Claybury. + </p> + <p> + “That's one o' Bob Pretty's larks,” said the old man, flushing. “I see you + talking to 'im, and I thought as 'ow he warn't up to no good. Biggest + rascal in Claybury, he is. I've said so afore, and I'll say so agin.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed to the donor and buried his old face in the mug. + </p> + <p> + “A poacher!” he said, taking breath. “A thief!” he continued, after + another draught. “I wonder whether Smith spilt any of this a-carrying of + it in?” + </p> + <p> + He put down the empty mug and made a careful examination of the floor, + until a musical rapping on the table brought the landlord into the room + again. + </p> + <p> + “My best respects,” he said, gratefully, as he placed the mug on the + settle by his side and slowly filled a long clay pipe. Next time you see + Bob Pretty ask 'im wot happened to the prize hamper. He's done a good many + things has Bob, but it'll be a long time afore Claybury men'll look over + that. + </p> + <p> + It was Henery Walker's idea. Henery 'ad been away to see an uncle of 'is + wife's wot had money and nobody to leave it to—leastways, so Henery + thought when he wasted his money going over to see 'im—and he came + back full of the idea, which he 'ad picked up from the old man. + </p> + <p> + “We each pay twopence a week till Christmas,” he ses, “and we buy a hamper + with a goose or a turkey in it, and bottles o' rum and whiskey and gin, as + far as the money'll go, and then we all draw lots for it, and the one that + wins has it.” + </p> + <p> + It took a lot of explaining to some of 'em, but Smith, the landlord, + helped Henery, and in less than four days twenty-three men had paid their + tuppences to Henery, who 'ad been made the seckitary, and told him to hand + them over to Smith in case he lost his memory. + </p> + <p> + Bob Pretty joined one arternoon on the quiet, and more than one of 'em + talked of 'aving their money back, but, arter Smith 'ad explained as 'ow + he would see fair play, they thought better of it. + </p> + <p> + “He'll 'ave the same chance as all of you,” he ses. “No more and no less.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd feel more easy in my mind, though, if 'e wasn't in it,” ses Bill + Chambers, staring at Bob. “I never knew 'im to lose anything yet.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't know everything, Bill,” ses Bob, shaking his 'ead. “You don't + know me; else you wouldn't talk like that. I've never been caught doing + wrong yet, and I 'ope I never shall.” + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, Bill,” ses George Kettle. “Mr. Smith'll see fair, and I'd + sooner win Bob Pretty's money than anybody's.” + </p> + <p> + “I 'ope you will, mate,” ses Bob; “that's what I joined for.” + </p> + <p> + “Bob's money is as good as anybody else's,” ses George Kettle, looking + round at the others. “It don't signify to me where he got it from.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I don't like to hear you talk like that George,” ses Bob Pretty. + “I've thought more than once that you 'ad them ideas.” + </p> + <p> + He drank up his beer and went off 'ome, shaking his 'ead, and, arter three + or four of 'em 'ad explained to George Kettle wot he meant, George went off + 'ome, too. + </p> + <p> + The week afore Christmas, Smith, the landlord, said as 'ow he 'ad got + enough money, and three days arter we all came up 'ere to see the prize + drawn. It was one o' the biggest hampers Smith could get; and there was a + fine, large turkey in it, a large goose, three pounds o' pork sausages, a + bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o' gin, + and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly, and a + little flag was stuck in the top. + </p> + <p> + On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and + arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e put + all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid. + </p> + <p> + “How are we going to draw the lottery?” ses John Biggs, the blacksmith. + </p> + <p> + “There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper,” ses Smith, “and they'll be + numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the same + shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man + draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger '1' on it wins.” + </p> + <p> + He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then + with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned + over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and held + them in his 'and. + </p> + <p> + “Is that satisfactory?” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't be fairer,” ses Bill Chambers. + </p> + <p> + “Mind,” ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar + in it and shaking them up, “Number 1 wins the prize. Who's going to draw + fust?” + </p> + <p> + All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think + they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the + bag. + </p> + <p> + “Come on,” ses Smith, the landlord. “Somebody must be fust.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, George Kettle,” ses Bob Pretty. “You're sure to win. I 'ad a dream + you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on yourself,” ses George. + </p> + <p> + “I never 'ave no luck,” ses Bob; “but if Henery Walker will draw fust, + I'll draw second. Somebody must begin.” + </p> + <p> + “O' course they must,” ses Henery, “and if you're so anxious why don't you + 'ave fust try?” + </p> + <p> + Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last + he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord. + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me,” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “There ain't no need for that, Bob,” ses Mr. Smith. “You can't see in the + bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; you blindfold me,” ses Bob; “it'll set a good example to the + others.” + </p> + <p> + Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and + pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop. + </p> + <p> + “Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith,” ses Bob Pretty. + “Twenty-three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck.” + </p> + <p> + Smith rolled out the paper, and then 'e turned pale and 'is eyes seemed to + stick right out of his 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “He's won it!” he ses, in a choky voice. “It's Number 1. Bob Pretty 'as + won the prize.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-40" id="linkimage-40"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/040.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'He's Won It!' he Ses, in a Choky Voice. 'it's Number 1.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + You never 'eard such a noise in this 'ere public-'ouse afore or since; + everybody shouting their 'ardest, and Bill Chambers stamping up and down + the room as if he'd gone right out of his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” ses Mr. Smith, at last. “Silence! How dare you make that noise + in my 'ouse, giving it a bad name? Bob Pretty 'as won it fair and square. + Nothing could ha' been fairer. You ought to be ashamed o' yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it at fust. He said that Smith was making game + of 'im, and, when Smith held the paper under 'is nose, he kept the + handkerchief on his eyes and wouldn't look at it. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen you afore to-day,” he says, nodding his 'ead. “I like a joke as + well as anybody, but it ain't fair to try and make fun of a pore, + 'ard-working man like that.” + </p> + <p> + I never see a man so astonished in my life as Bob Pretty was, when 'e + found out it was really true. He seemed fair 'mazed-like, and stood there + scratching his 'ead, as if he didn't know where 'e was. He come round at + last, arter a pint o' beer that Smith 'ad stood 'im, and then he made a + little speech, thanking Smith for the fair way he 'ad acted, and took up + the hamper. + </p> + <p> + “'Strewth, it is heavy,” he ses, getting it up on his back. “Well, so + long, mates.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you—ain't you going to stand us a drink out o' one o' them + bottles?” ses Peter Gubbins, as Bob got to the door. + </p> + <p> + Bob Pretty went out as if he didn't 'ear; then he stopped, sudden-like, + and turned round and put his 'ead in at the door agin, and stood looking + at 'em. + </p> + <p> + “No, mates,” he ses, at last, “and I wonder at you for asking, arter what + you've all said about me. I'm a pore man, but I've got my feelings. I + drawed fust becos nobody else would, and all the thanks I get for it is to + be called a thief.” + </p> + <p> + He went off down the road, and by and by Bill Chambers, wot 'ad been + sitting staring straight in front of 'im, got up and went to the door, and + stood looking arter 'im like a man in a dream. None of 'em seemed to be + able to believe that the lottery could be all over so soon, and Bob Pretty + going off with it, and when they did make up their minds to it, it was one + o' the most miserable sights you ever see. The idea that they 'ad been + paying a pint a week for Bob Pretty for months nearly sent some of 'em out + of their minds. + </p> + <p> + “It can't be 'elped,” ses Mr. Smith. “He 'ad the pluck to draw fust, and + he won; anybody else might ha' done it. He gave you the offer, George + Kettle, and you, too, Henery Walker.” + </p> + <p> + Henery Walker was too low-spirited to answer 'im; and arter Smith 'ad said + “Hush!” to George Kettle three times, he up and put 'im outside for the + sake of the 'ouse. + </p> + <p> + When 'e came back it was all quiet and everybody was staring their 'ardest + at little Dicky Weed, the tailor, who was sitting with his head in his + 'ands, thinking, and every now and then taking them away and looking up at + the ceiling, or else leaning forward with a start and looking as if 'e saw + something crawling on the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Wot's the matter with you?” ses Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + Dicky Weed didn't answer 'im. He shut his eyes tight and then 'e jumps up + all of a sudden. “I've got it!” he says. “Where's that bag?” + </p> + <p> + “Wot bag?” ses Mr. Smith, staring at 'im. “The bag with the papers in,” + ses Dicky. + </p> + <p> + “Where Bob Pretty ought to be,” ses Bill Chambers. “On the fire.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot?” screams Dicky Weed. “Now you've been and spoilt everything!” + </p> + <p> + “Speak English,” ses Bill. + </p> + <p> + “I will!” ses Dicky, trembling all over with temper. “Who asked you to put + it on the fire? Who asked you to put yourself forward? I see it all now, + and it's too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's too late?” ses Sam Tones. + </p> + <p> + “When Bob Pretty put his 'and in that bag,” ses Dicky Weed, holding up 'is + finger and looking at them, “he'd got a bit o' paper already in it—a + bit o' paper with the figger 1 on it. That's 'ow he done it. While we was + all watching Mr. Smith, he was getting 'is own bit o' paper ready.” + </p> + <p> + He 'ad to say it three times afore they understood 'im, and then they went + down on their knees and burnt their fingers picking up bits o' paper that + 'ad fallen in the fireplace. They found six pieces in all, but not one + with the number they was looking for on it, and then they all got up and + said wot ought to be done to Bob Pretty. + </p> + <p> + “You can't do anything,” ses Smith, the landlord. “You can't prove it. + After all, it's only Dicky's idea.” + </p> + <p> + Arf-a-dozen of 'em all began speaking at once, but Bill Chambers gave 'em + the wink, and pretended to agree with 'im. + </p> + <p> + “We're going to have that hamper back,” he ses, as soon as Mr. Smith 'ad + gone back to the bar, “but it won't do to let 'im know. He don't like to + think that Bob Pretty was one too many for 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's all go to Bob Pretty's and take it,” ses Peter Gubbins, wot 'ad + been in the Militia. + </p> + <p> + Dicky Weed shook his 'ead. “He'd 'ave the lor on us for robbery,” he ses; + “there's nothing he'd like better.” + </p> + <p> + They talked it over till closing-time, but nobody seemed to know wot to + do, and they stood outside in the bitter cold for over arf an hour still + trying to make up their minds 'ow to get that hamper back. Fust one went + off 'ome and then another, and at last, when there was on'y three or four + of 'em left, Henery Walker, wot prided himself on 'is artfulness, 'ad an + idea. + </p> + <p> + “One of us must get Bob Pretty up 'ere to-morrow night and stand 'im a + pint, or p'r'aps two pints,” he ses. “While he's here two other chaps must + 'ave a row close by his 'ouse and pretend to fight. Mrs. Pretty and the + young 'uns are sure to run out to look at it, and while they are out + another chap can go in quiet-like and get the hamper.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed a wunnerful good idea, and Bill Chambers said so; and 'e + flattered Henery Walker up until Henery didn't know where to look, as the + saying is. + </p> + <p> + “And wot's to be done with the hamper when we've got it?” ses Sam Jones. + </p> + <p> + “Have it drawed for agin,” ses Henery. “It'll 'ave to be done on the + quiet, o' course.” + </p> + <p> + Sam Jones stood thinking for a bit. “Burn the hamper and draw lots for + everything separate,” 'e ses, very slow. “If Bob Pretty ses it's 'is + turkey and goose and spirits, tell 'im to prove it. We sha'n't know + nothing about it.” + </p> + <p> + Henery Walker said it was a good plan; and arter talking it over they + walked 'ome all very pleased with theirselves. They talked it over next + day with the other chaps; and Henery Walker said arterwards that p'r'aps + it was talked over a bit too much. + </p> + <p> + It took 'em some time to make up their minds about it, but at last it was + settled that Peter Gubbins was to stand Bob Pretty the beer; Ted Brown, + who was well known for his 'ot temper, and Joe Smith was to 'ave the + quarrel; and Henery Walker was to slip in and steal the hamper, and 'ide + the things up at his place. + </p> + <p> + Bob Pretty fell into the trap at once. He was standing at 'is gate in the + dark, next day, smoking a pipe, when Peter Gubbins passed, and Peter, + arter stopping and asking 'im for a light, spoke about 'is luck in getting + the hamper, and told 'im he didn't bear no malice for it. + </p> + <p> + “You 'ad the pluck to draw fust,” he ses, “and you won.” + </p> + <p> + Bob Pretty said he was a Briton, and arter a little more talk Peter asked + 'im to go and 'ave a pint with 'im to show that there was no ill-feeling. + They came into this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse like brothers, and in + less than ten minutes everybody was making as much fuss o' Bob Pretty as + if 'e'd been the best man in Claybury. + </p> + <p> + “Arter all, a man can't 'elp winning a prize,” ses Bill Chambers, looking + round. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't,” ses Bob. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and 'elped hisself out o' Sam Jones's baccy-box; and one or + two got up on the quiet and went outside to listen to wot was going on + down the road. Everybody was wondering wot was happening, and when Bob + Pretty got up and said 'e must be going, Bill Chambers caught 'old of him + by the coat and asked 'im to have arf a pint with 'im. + </p> + <p> + Bob had the arf-pint, and arter that another one with Sam Jones, and then + 'e said 'e really must be going, as his wife was expecting 'im. He pushed + Bill Chambers's 'at over his eyes—a thing Bill can't abear—and + arter filling 'is pipe agin from Sam Jones's box he got up and went. + </p> + <p> + “Mind you,” ses Bill Chambers, looking round, “if 'e comes back and ses + somebody 'as taken his hamper, nobody knows nothing about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I 'ope Henery Walker 'as got it all right,” ses Dicky Weed. “When shall + we know?” + </p> + <p> + “He'll come up 'ere and tell us,” ses Bill Chambers. “It's time 'e was + here, a'most.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes arterwards the door opened and Henery Walker came staggering + in. He was as white as a sheet, his 'at was knocked on one side of his + 'ead, and there was two or three nasty-looking scratches on 'is cheek. He + came straight to Bill Chambers's mug—wot 'ad just been filled—and + emptied it, and then 'e sat down on a seat gasping for breath. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-41" id="linkimage-41"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/041.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'The Door Opened and Henery Walker Came Staggering In.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Wots the matter, Henery?” ses Bill, staring at 'im with 'is mouth open. + </p> + <p> + Henery Walker groaned and shook his 'ead. “Didn't you get the hamper?” ses + Bill, turning pale. Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” he ses, as Bill Chambers started finding fault. “I done the + best I could. Nothing could ha' 'appened better—to start with. + Directly Ted Brown and Joe Smith started, Mrs. Pretty and her sister, and + all the kids excepting the baby, run out, and they'd 'ardly gone afore I + was inside the back door and looking for that hamper, and I'd hardly + started afore I heard them coming back agin. I was at the foot o' the + stairs at the time, and, not knowing wot to do, I went up 'em into Bob's + bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” ses Bill Chambers, as Henery Walker stopped and looked round. + </p> + <p> + “A'most direckly arterwards I 'eard Mrs. Pretty and her sister coming + upstairs,” ses Henery Walker, with a shudder. “I was under the bed at the + time, and afore I could say a word Mrs. Pretty gave a loud screech and + scratched my face something cruel. I thought she'd gone mad.” + </p> + <p> + “You've made a nice mess of it!” ses Bill Chambers. + </p> + <p> + “Mess!” ses Henery, firing up. “Wot would you ha' done?” + </p> + <p> + “I should ha' managed diff'rent,” ses Bill Chambers. “Did she know who you + was?” + </p> + <p> + “Know who I was?” ses Henery. “O' course she did. It's my belief that Bob + knew all about it and told 'er wot to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you've done it now, Henery,” ses Bill Chambers. “Still, that's your + affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, is it?” ses Henery Walker. “You 'ad as much to do with it as I 'ad, + excepting that you was sitting up 'ere in comfort while I was doing all + the work. It's a wonder to me I got off as well as I did.” + </p> + <p> + Bill Chambers sat staring at 'im and scratching his 'ead, and just then + they all 'eard the voice of Bob Pretty, very distinct, outside, asking for + Henery Walker. Then the door opened, and Bob Pretty, carrying his 'ead + very 'igh, walked into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Henery Walker?” he ses, in a loud voice. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-42" id="linkimage-42"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/042.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Where's Henery Walker?' he Ses, in a Loud Voice.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + Henery Walker put down the empty mug wot he'd been pretending to drink out + of and tried to smile at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa, Bob!” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “What was you doing in my 'ouse?” ses Bob Pretty, very severe. + </p> + <p> + “I—I just looked in to see whether you was in, Bob,” ses Henery. + </p> + <p> + “That's why you was found under my bed, I s'pose?” ses Bob Pretty. “I want + a straight answer, Henery Walker, and I mean to 'ave it, else I'm going + off to Cudford for Policeman White.” + </p> + <p> + “I went there to get that hamper,” ses Henery Walker, plucking up spirit. + “You won it unfair last night, and we determined for to get it back. So + now you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I call on all of you to witness that,” ses Bob, looking round. “Henery + Walker went into my 'ouse to steal my hamper. He ses so, and it wasn't 'is + fault he couldn't find it. I'm a pore man and I can't afford such things; + I sold it this morning, a bargain, for thirty bob.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then there's no call to make a fuss over it, Bob,” ses Bill + Chambers. + </p> + <p> + “I sold it for thirty bob,” ses Bob Pretty, “and when I went out this + evening I left the money on my bedroom mantelpiece—one pound, two + arf-crowns, two two-shilling pieces, and two sixpences. My wife and her + sister both saw it there. That they'll swear to.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, wot about it?” ses Sam Jones, staring at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “Arter my pore wife 'ad begged and prayed Henery Walker on 'er bended + knees to spare 'er life and go,” ses Bob Pretty, “she looked at the + mantel-piece and found the money 'ad disappeared.” + </p> + <p> + Henery Walker got up all white and shaking and flung 'is arms about, + trying to get 'is breath. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say I stole it?” he ses, at last. + </p> + <p> + “O' course I do,” ses Bob Pretty. “Why, you said yourself afore these + witnesses and Mr. Smith that you came to steal the hamper. Wot's the + difference between stealing the hamper and the money I sold it for?” + </p> + <p> + Henery Walker tried for to answer 'im, but he couldn't speak a word. + </p> + <p> + “I left my pore wife with 'er apron over her 'ead sobbing as if her 'art + would break,” ses Bob Pretty; “not because o' the loss of the money so + much, but to think of Henery Walker doing such a thing—and 'aving to + go to jail for it.” + </p> + <p> + “I never touched your money, and you know it,” ses Henery Walker, finding + his breath at last. “I don't believe it was there. You and your wife 'ud + swear anything.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please, Henery,” ses Bob Pretty. “Only I'm going straight off to + Cudford to see Policeman White; he'll be glad of a job, I know. There's + three of us to swear to it, and you was found under my bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Let bygones be bygones, Bob,” ses Bill Chambers, trying to smile at 'im. + </p> + <p> + “No, mate,” ses Bob Pretty. “I'm going to 'ave my rights, but I don't want + to be 'ard on a man I've known all my life; and if, afore I go to my bed + to-night, the thirty shillings is brought to me, I won't say as I won't + look over it.” + </p> + <p> + He stood for a moment shaking his 'ead at them, and then, still holding it + very 'igh, he turned round and walked out. + </p> + <p> + “He never left no money on the mantelpiece,” ses Sam Jones, at last. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you believe it. You go to jail, Henery.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything sooner than be done by Bob Pretty,” ses George Kettle. + </p> + <p> + “There's not much doing now, Henery,” ses Bill Chambers, in a soft voice. + </p> + <p> + Henery Walker wouldn't listen to 'em, and he jumped up and carried on like + a madman. His idea was for 'em all to club together to pay the money, and + to borrow it from Smith, the landlord, to go on with. They wouldn't 'ear + of it at fust, but arter Smith 'ad pointed out that they might 'ave to go + to jail with Henery, and said things about 'is license, they gave way. Bob + Pretty was just starting off to see Policeman White when they took the + money, and instead o' telling 'im wot they thought of 'im, as they 'ad + intended, Henery Walker 'ad to walk alongside of 'im and beg and pray of + 'im to take the money. He took it at last as a favor to Henery, and bought + the hamper back with it next morning—cheap. Leastways, he said so. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_11" id="link2H_4_11"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + DOUBLE DEALING + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Fred Carter stood on the spacious common, inhaling with all the joy of + the holiday-making Londoner the salt smell of the sea below, and regarding + with some interest the movements of a couple of men who had come to a stop + a short distance away. As he looked they came on again, eying him closely + as they approached—a strongly built, shambling man of fifty, and a + younger man, evidently his son. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-43" id="linkimage-43"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/043.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Stood on the Spacious Common, Inhaling The Salt Smell Of The Sea Below.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Good-evening,” said the former, as they came abreast of Mr. Carter. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “That's him,” said both together. + </p> + <p> + They stood regarding him in a fashion unmistakably hostile. Mr. Carter, + with an uneasy smile, awaited developments. + </p> + <p> + “What have you got to say for yourself?” demanded the elder man, at last. + “Do you call yourself a man?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't call myself anything,” said the puzzled Mr. Carter. “Perhaps + you're mistaking me for somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell you,” said the younger man, turning to the other—“didn't + I tell you he'd say that?” + </p> + <p> + “He can say what he likes,” said the other, “but we've got him now. If he + gets away from me he'll be cleverer than what he thinks he is.” + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do with him now we've got him?” inquired his son. + </p> + <p> + The elder man clenched a huge fist and eyed Mr. Carter savagely. “If I was + just considering myself,” he said, “I should hammer him till I was tired + and then chuck him into the sea.” + </p> + <p> + His son nodded. “That wouldn't do Nancy much good, though,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I want to do everything for the best,” said the other, “and I s'pose the + right and proper thing to do is to take him by the scruff of his neck and + run him along to Nancy.” + </p> + <p> + “You try it,” said Mr. Carter, hotly. “Who is Nancy?” + </p> + <p> + The other growled, and was about to aim a blow at him when his son threw + himself upon him and besought him to be calm. + </p> + <p> + “Just one,” said his father, struggling, “only one. It would do me good; + and perhaps he'd come along the quieter for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” said Mr. Carter. “You're mistaking me for somebody else, + that's what you are doing. What am I supposed to have done?” + </p> + <p> + “You're supposed to have come courting my daughter, Mr. Somebody Else,” + said the other, releasing himself and thrusting his face into Mr. + Carter's, “and, after getting her promise to marry you, nipping off to + London to arrange for the wedding. She's been mourning over you for four + years now, having an idea that you had been made away with.” + </p> + <p> + “Being true to your memory, you skunk,” said the son. + </p> + <p> + “And won't look at decent chaps that want to marry her,” added the other. + </p> + <p> + “It's all a mistake,” said Mr. Carter. “I came down here this morning for + the first time in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring him along,” said the son, impatiently. “It's a waste of time + talking to him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter took a step back and parleyed. “I'll come along with you of my + own free will,” he said, hastily, “just to show you that you are wrong; + but I won't be forced.” + </p> + <p> + He turned and walked back with them towards the town, pausing occasionally + to admire the view. Once he paused so long that an ominous growl arose + from the elder of his captors. + </p> + <p> + “I was just thinking,” said Mr. Carter, eying him in consternation; + “suppose that she makes the same mistake that you have made? Oh, Lord!” + </p> + <p> + “Keeps it up pretty well, don't he, Jim?” said the father. + </p> + <p> + The other grunted and, drawing nearer to Mr. Carter as they entered the + town, stepped along in silence. Questions which Mr. Carter asked with the + laudable desire of showing his ignorance concerning the neighborhood + elicited no reply. His discomfiture was increased by the behavior of an + elderly boatman, who, after looking at him hard, took his pipe from his + mouth and bade him “Good-evening.” Father and son exchanged significant + glances. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-44" id="linkimage-44"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/044.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'An Elderly Boatman, Who, After Looking at Him Hard, Took His Pipe from his Mouth and Bade Him 'good-evening.'' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + They turned at last into a small street, and the elder man, opening the + door of a neat cottage, laid his hand on the prisoner's shoulder and + motioned him in. Mr. Carter obeyed, and, entering a spotless living-room, + removed his hat and with affected composure seated himself in an + easy-chair. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go up and tell Nan,” said Jim. “Don't let him run away.” + </p> + <p> + He sprang up the stairs, which led from a corner of the room, and the next + moment the voice of a young lady, laboring under intense excitement, fell + on the ears of Mr. Carter. With a fine attempt at unconcern he rose and + inspected an aged engraving of “The Sailor's Return.” + </p> + <p> + “She'll be down in a minute,” said Jim, returning. + </p> + <p> + “P'r'aps it's as well that I didn't set about him, after all,” said his + father. “If I had done what I should like to do, his own mother wouldn't + have known him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter sniffed defiantly and, with a bored air, resumed his seat. Ten + minutes passed—fifteen; at the end of half an hour the elder man's + impatience found vent in a tirade against the entire sex. + </p> + <p> + “She's dressing up; that's what it is,” explained Jim. “For him!” + </p> + <p> + A door opened above and a step sounded on the stairs. Mr. Carter looked up + uneasily, and, after the first sensation of astonishment had passed, + wondered vaguely what his double had run away for. The girl, her lips + parted and her eyes bright, came swiftly down into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” she said, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said her father, in surprise. “Why, there! Can't you see?” + </p> + <p> + The light died out of the girl's face and she looked round in dismay. The + watchful Mr. Carter thought that he also detected in her glance a spice of + that temper which had made her relatives so objectionable. + </p> + <p> + “That!” she said, loudly. “That! That's not my Bert!” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I told 'em,” said Mr. Carter, deferentially, “over and over + again.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said her father, loudly. “Look again.” + </p> + <p> + “If I looked all night it wouldn't make any difference,” said the + disappointed Miss Evans. “The idea of making such a mistake!” + </p> + <p> + “We're all liable to mistakes,” said Mr. Carter, magnanimously, “even the + best of us.” + </p> + <p> + “You take a good look at him,” urged her brother, “and don't forget that + it's four years since you saw him. Isn't that Bert's nose?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the girl, glancing at the feature in question, “not a bit like + it. Bert had a beautiful nose.” + </p> + <p> + “Look at his eyes,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + Miss Evans looked, and meeting Mr. Carter's steady gaze tossed her head + scornfully and endeavored to stare him down. Realizing too late the + magnitude of the task, but unwilling to accept defeat, she stood + confronting him with indignant eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Mr. Evans, misunderstanding. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit like,” said his daughter, turning thankfully. “And if you + don't like Bert, you needn't insult him.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down with her back towards Mr. Carter and looked out at the + window. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I could ha' sworn it was Bert Simmons,” said the discomfited Mr. + Evans. + </p> + <p> + “Me, too,” said his son. “I'd ha' sworn to him anywhere. It's the most + extraordinary likeness I've ever seen.” + </p> + <p> + He caught his father's eye, and with a jerk of his thumb telegraphed for + instructions as to the disposal of Mr. Carter. + </p> + <p> + “He can go,” said Mr. Evans, with an attempt at dignity; “he can go this + time, and I hope that this'll be a lesson to him not to go about looking + like other people. If he does, next time, p'r'aps, he won't escape so + easy.” + </p> + <p> + “You're quite right,” said Mr. Carter, blandly. “I'll get a new face first + thing to-morrow morning. I ought to have done it before.” + </p> + <p> + He crossed to the door and, nodding to the fermenting Mr. Evans, bowed to + the profile of Miss Evans and walked slowly out. Envy of Mr. Simmons was + mingled with amazement at his deplorable lack of taste and common sense. + He would willingly have changed places with him. There was evidently a + strong likeness, and—— + </p> + <p> + Busy with his thoughts he came to a standstill in the centre of the + footpath, and then, with a sudden air of determination, walked slowly back + to the house. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Mr. Evans, as the door opened and the face of Mr. Carter was + thrust in. “What have you come back for?” + </p> + <p> + The other stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him. “I + have come back,” he said, slowly—“I have come back because I feel + ashamed of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ashamed of yourself?” repeated Mr. Evans, rising and confronting him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter hung his head and gazed nervously in the direction of the girl. + “I can't keep up this deception,” he said, in a low but distinct voice. “I + am Bert Simmons. At least, that is the name I told you four years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew I hadn't made a mistake,” roared Mr. Evans to his son. “I knew him + well enough. Shut the door, Jim. Don't let him go.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to go,” said Mr. Carter, with a glance in the direction of + Nancy. “I have come back to make amends.” + </p> + <p> + “Fancy Nancy not knowing him!” said Jim, gazing at the astonished Miss + Evans. + </p> + <p> + “She was afraid of getting me into trouble,” said Mr. Carter, “and I just + gave her a wink not to recognize me; but she knew me well enough, bless + her.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you!” said the girl, starting up. “Why, I've never seen you + before in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Nan,” said the brazen Mr. Carter; “but it's no good keeping it + up now. I've come back to act fair and square.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Evans struggled for breath. + </p> + <p> + “There he is, my girl,” said her father, patting her on the back. “He's + not much to look at, and he treated you very shabby, but if you want him I + suppose you must have him.” + </p> + <p> + “Want him?” repeated the incensed Miss Evans. “Want him? I tell you it's + not Bert. How dare he come here and call me Nan?” + </p> + <p> + “You used not to mind it,” said Mr. Carter, plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you,” said Miss Evans, turning to her father and brother, “it's + not Bert. Do you think I don't know?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he ought to know who he is,” said her father, reasonably. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I ought,” said Mr. Carter, smiling at her. “Besides, what + reason should I have for saying I am Bert if I am not?” + </p> + <p> + “That's a fair question,” said Jim, as the girl bit her lip. “Why should + he?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask him,” said the girl, tartly. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my girl,” said Mr. Evans, in ominous accents. “For four years + you've been grieving over Bert, and me and Jim have been hunting high and + low for him. We've got him at last, and now you've got to have him.” + </p> + <p> + “If he don't run away again,” said Jim. “I wouldn't trust him farther than + I could see him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Evans sat and glowered at his prospective son-in-law as the + difficulties of the situation developed themselves. Even Mr. Carter's + reminders that he had come back and surrendered of his own free will + failed to move him, and he was hesitating between tying him up and locking + him in the attic and hiring a man to watch him, when Mr. Carter himself + suggested a way out of the difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “I'll lodge with you,” he said, “and I'll give you all my money and things + to take care of. I can't run away without money.” + </p> + <p> + He turned out his pockets on the table. Seven pounds eighteen shillings + and fourpence with his return ticket made one heap; his watch and chain, + penknife, and a few other accessories another. A suggestion of Jim's that + he should add his boots was vetoed by the elder man as unnecessary. + </p> + <p> + “There you are,” said Mr. Evans, sweeping the things into his own pockets; + “and the day you are married I hand them back to you.” + </p> + <p> + His temper improved as the evening wore on. By the time supper was + finished and his pipe alight he became almost jocular, and the coldness of + Miss Evans was the only drawback to an otherwise enjoyable evening. + </p> + <p> + “Just showing off a little temper,” said her father, after she had + withdrawn; “and wants to show she ain't going to forgive you too easy. Not + but what you behaved badly; however, let bygones be bygones, that's my + idea.” + </p> + <p> + The behavior of Miss Evans was so much better next day that it really + seemed as though her father's diagnosis was correct. At dinner, when the + men came home from work, she piled Mr. Carter's plate up so generously + that her father and brother had ample time at their disposal to watch him + eat. And when he put his hand over his glass she poured half a pint of + good beer, that other men would have been thankful for, up his sleeve. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-45" id="linkimage-45"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/045.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'She Piled Mr. Carter's Plate up So Generously That Her Father and Brother Had Ample Time at Their Disposal to Watch Him Eat.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + She was out all the afternoon, but at tea time she sat next to Mr. Carter, + and joined brightly in the conversation concerning her marriage. She + addressed him as Bert, and when he furtively pressed her hand beneath the + table-cloth she made no attempt to withdraw it. + </p> + <p> + “I can't think how it was you didn't know him at first,” said her father. + “You're usually wide-awake enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Silly of me,” said Nancy; “but I am silly sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter pressed her hand again, and gazing tenderly into her eyes + received a glance in return which set him thinking. It was too cold and + calculating for real affection; in fact, after another glance, he began to + doubt if it indicated affection at all. + </p> + <p> + “It's like old times, Bert,” said Miss Evans, with an odd smile. “Do you + remember what you said that afternoon when I put the hot spoon on your + neck?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” inquired the girl. + </p> + <p> + “I won't repeat it,” said Mr. Carter, firmly. + </p> + <p> + He was reminded of other episodes during the meal, but, by the exercise of + tact and the plea of a bad memory, did fairly well. He felt that he had + done very well indeed when, having cleared the tea-things away, Nancy came + and sat beside him with her hand in his. Her brother grunted, but Mr. + Evans, in whom a vein of sentiment still lingered, watched them with much + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter had got possession of both hands and was murmuring fulsome + flatteries when the sound of somebody pausing at the open door caused them + to be hastily withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + “Evening, Mr. Evans,” said a young man, putting his head in. “Why, halloa! + Bert! Well, of all the——” + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” said Mr. Carter, with attempted enthusiasm, as he rose from his + chair. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you was lost,” said the other, stepping in and gripping his + hand. “I never thought I was going to set eyes on you again. Well, this is + a surprise. You ain't forgot Joe Wilson, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Course I haven't, Joe,” said Mr. Carter. “I'd have known you anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + He shook hands effusively, and Mr. Wilson, after a little pretended + hesitation, accepted a chair and began to talk about old times. + </p> + <p> + “I lay you ain't forgot one thing, Bert,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” inquired the other. + </p> + <p> + “That arf-quid I lent you,” said Mr. Wilson. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter, after the first shock of surprise, pretended to think, Mr. + Wilson supplying him with details as to time and place, which he was in no + position to dispute. He turned to Mr. Evans, who was still acting as his + banker, and, after a little hesitation, requested him to pay the money. + Conversation seemed to fail somewhat after that, and Mr. Wilson, during an + awkward pause, went off whistling. + </p> + <p> + “Same old Joe,” said Mr. Carter, lightly, after he had gone. “He hasn't + altered a bit.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Evans glanced at him, but said nothing. She was looking instead + towards a gentleman of middle age who was peeping round the door indulging + in a waggish game of peep-bo with the unconscious Mr. Carter. Finding that + he had at last attracted his attention, the gentleman came inside and, + breathing somewhat heavily after his exertions, stood before him with + outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-46" id="linkimage-46"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/046.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'A Gentleman of Middle Age Was Peeping Round the Door.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “How goes it?” said Mr. Carter, forcing a smile and shaking hands. + </p> + <p> + “He's grown better-looking than ever,” said the gentleman, subsiding into + a chair. + </p> + <p> + “So have you,” said Mr. Carter. “I should hardly have known you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I' m glad to see you again,” said the other in a more subdued + fashion. “We're all glad to see you back, and I 'ope that when the wedding + cake is sent out there'll be a bit for old Ben Prout.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be the first, Ben,” said Mr. Carter, quickly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Prout got up and shook hands with him again. “It only shows what + mistakes a man can make,” he said, resuming his seat. “It only shows how + easy it is to misjudge one's fellow-creeturs. When you went away sudden + four years ago, I says to myself, 'Ben Prout,' I says, 'make up your mind + to it, that two quid has gorn.'” + </p> + <p> + The smile vanished from Mr. Carter's face, and a sudden chill descended + upon the company. + </p> + <p> + “Two quid?” he said, stiffly. “What two quid?” + </p> + <p> + “The two quid I lent you,” said Mr. Prout, in a pained voice. + </p> + <p> + “When?” said Mr. Carter, struggling. + </p> + <p> + “When you and I met him that evening on the pier,” said Miss Evans, in a + matter-of-fact voice. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carter started, and gazed at her uneasily. The smile on her lip and + the triumphant gleam in her eye were a revelation to him. He turned to Mr. + Evans and in as calm a voice as he could assume, requested him to + discharge the debt. Mr. Prout, his fingers twitching, stood waiting “Well, + it's your money,” said Mr. Evans, grudgingly extracting a purse from his + trouser-pocket; “and I suppose you ought to pay your debts; still——” + </p> + <p> + He put down two pounds on the table and broke off in sudden amazement as + Mr. Prout, snatching up the money, bolted headlong from the room. His + surprise was shared by his son, but the other two made no sign. Mr. Carter + was now prepared for the worst, and his voice was quite calm as he gave + instructions for the payment of the other three gentlemen who presented + claims during the evening endorsed by Miss Evans. As the last departed Mr. + Evans, whose temper had been gradually getting beyond his control, crossed + over and handed him his watch and chain, a few coppers, and the return + half of his railway ticket. + </p> + <p> + “I think we can do without you, after all,” he said, breathing thickly. + “I've no doubt you owe money all over England. You're a cadger, that's + what you are.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to the door, and Mr. Carter, after twice opening his lips to + speak and failing, blundered towards it. Miss Evans watched him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Cheats never prosper,” she said, with gentle severity. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” said Mr. Carter, pausing at the door. + </p> + <p> + “It's your own fault,” continued Miss Evans, who was suffering from a + slight touch of conscience. “If you hadn't come here pretending to be Bert + Simmons and calling me 'Nan' as if you had known me all my life, I + wouldn't have done it.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter,” said Mr. Carter. “I wish I was Bert Simmons, that's + all. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Wish you was!” said Mr. Evans, who had been listening in open-mouthed + astonishment. “Look here! Man to man—are you Bert Simmons or are you + not?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mr. Carter. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” said Nancy. + </p> + <p> + “And you didn't owe that money?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody owed it,” said Nancy. “It was done just to punish him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Evans, with a strange cry, blundered towards the door. “I'll have that + money out of 'em,” he roared, “if I have to hold 'em up and shake it out + of their trouser-pockets. You stay here.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried up the road, and Jim, with the set face of a man going into + action against heavy odds, followed him. + </p> + <p> + “Your father told me to stay,” said Mr. Carter, coming farther into the + room. + </p> + <p> + Nancy looked up at him through her eyelashes. “You need not unless you + want to,” she said, very softly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_12" id="link2H_4_12"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + KEEPING UP APPEARANCES + </h2> + <p> + “Everybody is superstitious,” said the night-watchman, as he gave + utterance to a series of chirruping endearments to a black cat with one + eye that had just been using a leg of his trousers as a serviette; “if + that cat 'ad stole some men's suppers they'd have acted foolish, and + suffered for it all the rest of their lives.” + </p> + <p> + He scratched the cat behind the ear, and despite himself his face + darkened. “Slung it over the side, they would,” he said, longingly, “and + chucked bits o' coke at it till it sank. As I said afore, everybody is + superstitious, and those that ain't ought to be night-watchmen for a time—that + 'ud cure 'em. I knew one man that killed a black cat, and arter that for + the rest of his life he could never get three sheets in the wind without + seeing its ghost. Spoilt his life for 'im, it did.” + </p> + <p> + He scratched the cat's other ear. “I only left it a moment, while I went + round to the Bull's Head,” he said, slowly filling his pipe, “and I + thought I'd put it out o' reach. Some men——” + </p> + <p> + His fingers twined round the animal's neck; then, with a sigh, he rose and + took a turn or two on the jetty. + </p> + <p> + Superstitiousness is right and proper, to a certain extent, he said, + resuming his seat; but, o' course, like everything else, some people carry + it too far—they'd believe anything. Weak-minded they are, and if + you're in no hurry I can tell you a tale of a pal o' mine, Bill Burtenshaw + by name, that'll prove my words. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-47" id="linkimage-47"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/047.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Superstitiousness is Right and Proper, to a Certain Extent.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + His mother was superstitious afore 'im, and always knew when 'er friends + died by hearing three loud taps on the wall. The on'y mistake she ever + made was one night when, arter losing no less than seven friends, she + found out it was the man next door hanging pictures at three o'clock in + the morning. She found it out by 'im hitting 'is thumb-nail. + </p> + <p> + For the first few years arter he grew up Bill went to sea, and that on'y + made 'im more superstitious than ever. Him and a pal named Silas Winch + went several v'y'ges together, and their talk used to be that creepy that + some o' the chaps was a'most afraid to be left on deck alone of a night. + Silas was a long-faced, miserable sort o' chap, always looking on the + black side o' things, and shaking his 'ead over it. He thought nothing o' + seeing ghosts, and pore old Ben Huggins slept on the floor for a week by + reason of a ghost with its throat cut that Silas saw in his bunk. He gave + Silas arf a dollar and a neck-tie to change bunks with 'im. + </p> + <p> + When Bill Burtenshaw left the sea and got married he lost sight of Silas + altogether, and the on'y thing he 'ad to remind him of 'im was a piece o' + paper which they 'ad both signed with their blood, promising that the fust + one that died would appear to the other. Bill agreed to it one evenin' + when he didn't know wot he was doing, and for years arterwards 'e used to + get the cold creeps down 'is back when he thought of Silas dying fust. And + the idea of dying fust 'imself gave 'im cold creeps all over. + </p> + <p> + Bill was a very good husband when he was sober, but 'is money was two + pounds a week, and when a man has all that and on'y a wife to keep out of + it, it's natural for 'im to drink. Mrs. Burtenshaw tried all sorts o' ways + and means of curing 'im, but it was no use. Bill used to think o' ways, + too, knowing the 'arm the drink was doing 'im, and his fav'rite plan was + for 'is missis to empty a bucket o' cold water over 'im every time he came + 'ome the worse for licker. She did it once, but as she 'ad to spend the + rest o' the night in the back yard it wasn't tried again. + </p> + <p> + Bill got worse as he got older, and even made away with the furniture to + get drink with. And then he used to tell 'is missis that he was drove to + the pub because his 'ome was so uncomfortable. + </p> + <p> + Just at that time things was at their worst Silas Winch, who 'appened to + be ashore and 'ad got Bill's address from a pal, called to see 'im. It was + a Saturday arternoon when he called, and, o' course, Bill was out, but 'is + missis showed him in, and, arter fetching another chair from the kitchen, + asked 'im to sit down. + </p> + <p> + Silas was very perlite at fust, but arter looking round the room and + seeing 'ow bare it was, he gave a little cough, and he ses, “I thought + Bill was doing well?” he ses. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-48" id="linkimage-48"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/048.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'Silas Was Very Perlite at Fust.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “So he is,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw. + </p> + <p> + Silas Winch coughed again. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he likes room to stretch 'imself about in?” he ses, looking + round. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw wiped 'er eyes and then, knowing 'ow Silas had been an old + friend o' Bill's, she drew 'er chair a bit closer and told him 'ow it was. + “A better 'usband, when he's sober, you couldn't wish to see,” she ses, + wiping her eyes agin. “He'd give me anything—if he 'ad it.” + </p> + <p> + Silas's face got longer than ever. “As a matter o' fact,” he ses, “I'm a + bit down on my luck, and I called round with the 'ope that Bill could lend + me a bit, just till I can pull round.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw shook her 'ead. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I s'pose I can stay and see 'im?” ses Silas. “Me and 'im used to be + great pals at one time, and many's the good turn I've done him. Wot + time'll he be 'ome?” + </p> + <p> + “Any time after twelve,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw; “but you'd better not be + here then. You see, 'im being in that condition, he might think you was + your own ghost come according to promise and be frightened out of 'is + life. He's often talked about it.” + </p> + <p> + Silas Winch scratched his head and looked at 'er thoughtful-like. + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn't he mistake me for a ghost?” he ses at last; “the shock + might do 'im good. And, if you come to that, why shouldn't I pretend to be + my own ghost and warn 'im off the drink?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw got so excited at the idea she couldn't 'ardly speak, but + at last, arter saying over and over agin she wouldn't do such a thing for + worlds, she and Silas arranged that he should come in at about three + o'clock in the morning and give Bill a solemn warning. She gave 'im her + key, and Silas said he'd come in with his 'air and cap all wet and pretend + he'd been drowned. + </p> + <p> + “It's very kind of you to take all this trouble for nothing,” ses Mrs. + Burtenshaw as Silas got up to go. + </p> + <p> + “Don't mention it,” ses Silas. “It ain't the fust time, and I don't + suppose it'll be the last, that I've put myself out to help my + feller-creeturs. We all ought to do wot we can for each other.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind, if he finds it out,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw, all of a tremble, “I + don't know nothing about it. P'r'aps to make it more life-like I'd better + pretend not to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “P'r'aps it would be better,” ses Silas, stopping at the street door. “All + I ask is that you'll 'ide the poker and anything else that might be laying + about handy. And you 'ad better oil the lock so as the key won't make a + noise.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw shut the door arter 'im, and then she went in and 'ad a + quiet sit-down all by 'erself to think it over. The only thing that + comforted 'er was that Bill would be in licker, and also that 'e would + believe anything in the ghost line. + </p> + <p> + It was past twelve when a couple o' pals brought him 'ome, and, arter + offering to fight all six of 'em, one after the other, Bill hit the wall + for getting in 'is way, and tumbled upstairs to bed. In less than ten + minutes 'e was fast asleep, and pore Mrs. Burtenshaw, arter trying her + best to keep awake, fell asleep too. + </p> + <p> + She was woke up suddenly by a noise that froze the marrer in 'er bones— + the most 'art-rending groan she 'ad ever heard in 'er life; and, raising + her 'ead, she saw Silas Winch standing at the foot of the bed. He 'ad done + his face and hands over with wot is called loominous paint, his cap was + pushed at the back of his 'ead, and wet wisps of 'air was hanging over his + eyes. For a moment Mrs. Burtenshaw's 'art stood still and then Silas let + off another groan that put her on edge all over. It was a groan that + seemed to come from nothing a'most until it spread into a roar that made + the room tremble and rattled the jug in the wash-stand basin. It shook + everything in the room but Bill, and he went on sleeping like an infant. + Silas did two more groans, and then 'e leaned over the foot o' the bed, + and stared at Bill, as though 'e couldn't believe his eyesight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-49" id="linkimage-49"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/049.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'She Saw Silas Winch Standing at the Foot of The Bed.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + “Try a squeaky one,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw. + </p> + <p> + Silas tried five squeaky ones, and then he 'ad a fit o' coughing that + would ha' woke the dead, as they say, but it didn't wake Bill. + </p> + <p> + “Now some more deep ones,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw, in a w'isper. + </p> + <p> + Silas licked his lips—forgetting the paint—and tried the deep + ones agin. + </p> + <p> + “Now mix 'em a bit,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw. + </p> + <p> + Silas stared at her. “Look 'ere,” he ses, very short, “do you think I'm a + fog-horn, or wot?” + </p> + <p> + He stood there sulky for a moment, and then 'e invented a noise that + nothing living could miss hearing; even Bill couldn't. He moved in 'is + sleep, and arter Silas 'ad done it twice more he turned and spoke to 'is + missis about it. “D'ye hear?” he ses; “stop it. Stop it at once.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw pretended to be asleep, and Bill was just going to turn + over agin when Silas let off another groan. It was on'y a little one this + time, but Bill sat up as though he 'ad been shot, and he no sooner caught + sight of Silas standing there than 'e gave a dreadful 'owl and, rolling + over, wropped 'imself up in all the bed-clothes 'e could lay his 'ands on. + Then Mrs. Burtenshaw gave a 'owl and tried to get some of 'em back; but + Bill, thinking it was the ghost, only held on tighter than ever. + </p> + <p> + “Bill!” ses Silas Winch, in an awful voice. + </p> + <p> + Bill gave a kick, and tried to bore a hole through the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Bill,” ses Silas agin, “why don't you answer me? I've come all the way + from the bottom of the Pacific Ocean to see you, and this is all I get for + it. Haven't you got anything to say to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” ses Bill, in a voice all smothered with the bed-clothes. + </p> + <p> + Silas Winch groaned agin, and Bill, as the shock 'ad made a'most sober, + trembled all over. + </p> + <p> + “The moment I died,” ses Silas, “I thought of my promise towards you. + 'Bill's expecting me,' I ses, and, instead of staying in comfort at the + bottom of the sea, I kicked off the body of the cabin-boy wot was clinging + round my leg, and 'ere I am.” + </p> + <p> + “It was very—t-t-thoughtful—of you—Silas,” ses Bill; + “but you always— w-w-was—thoughtful. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + Afore Silas could answer, Mrs. Burtenshaw, who felt more comfortable, + 'aving got a bit o' the clothes back, thought it was time to put 'er spoke + in. + </p> + <p> + “Lor' bless me, Bill,” she ses. “Wotever are you a-talking to yourself + like this for? 'Ave you been dreaming?” + </p> + <p> + “Dreaming!” ses pore Bill, catching hold of her 'and and gripping it till + she nearly screamed. “I wish I was. Can't you see it?” + </p> + <p> + “See it?” ses his wife. “See wot?” + </p> + <p> + “The ghost,” ses Bill, in a 'orrible whisper; “the ghost of my dear, kind + old pal, Silas Winch. The best and noblest pal a man ever 'ad. The + kindest-'arted——” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw. “You've been dreaming. And as for the + kindest-'arted pal, why I've often heard you say—” + </p> + <p> + “H'sh!” ses Bill. “I didn't. I'll swear I didn't. I never thought of such + a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “You turn over and go to sleep,” ses his wife, “hiding your 'ead under the + clothes like a child that's afraid o' the dark! There's nothing there, I + tell you. Wot next will you see, I wonder? Last time it was a pink rat.” + </p> + <p> + “This is fifty million times worse than pink rats,” ses Bill. “I on'y wish + it was a pink rat.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you there is nothing there,” ses his wife. “Look!” + </p> + <p> + Bill put his 'ead up and looked, and then 'e gave a dreadful scream and + dived under the bed-clothes agin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, 'ave it your own way, then,” ses his wife. “If it pleases you + to think there is a ghost there, and to go on talking to it, do so, and + welcome.” + </p> + <p> + She turned over and pretended to go to sleep agin, and arter a minute or + two Silas spoke agin in the same hollow voice. + </p> + <p> + “Bill!” he ses. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” ses Bill, with a groan of his own. + </p> + <p> + “She can't see me,” ses Silas, “and she can't 'ear me; but I'm 'ere all + right. Look!” + </p> + <p> + “I 'ave looked,” ses Bill, with his 'ead still under the clothes. + </p> + <p> + “We was always pals, Bill, you and me,” ses Silas; “many a v'y'ge 'ave we + had together, mate, and now I'm a-laying at the bottom of the Pacific + Ocean, and you are snug and 'appy in your own warm bed. I 'ad to come to + see you, according to promise, and over and above that, since I was + drowned my eyes 'ave been opened. Bill, you're drinking yourself to + death!” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—didn't know it,” ses Bill, shaking all over. “I'll knock + it—off a bit, and—thank you—for—w-w-warning me. + G-G-Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll knock it off altogether,” ses Silas Winch, in a awful voice. + “You're not to touch another drop of beer, wine, or spirits as long as you + live. D'ye hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “Not—not as medicine?” ses Bill, holding the clothes up a bit so as + to be more distinct. + </p> + <p> + “Not as anything,” ses Silas; “not even over Christmas pudding. Raise your + right arm above your 'ead and swear by the ghost of pore Silas Winch, as + is laying at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, that you won't touch another + drop.” + </p> + <p> + Bill Burtenshaw put 'is arm up and swore it. + </p> + <p> + Then 'e took 'is arm in agin and lay there wondering wot was going to + 'appen next. + </p> + <p> + “If you ever break your oath by on'y so much as a teaspoonful,” ses Silas, + “you'll see me agin, and the second time you see me you'll die as if + struck by lightning. No man can see me twice and live.” + </p> + <p> + Bill broke out in a cold perspiration all over. “You'll be careful, won't + you, Silas?” he ses. “You'll remember you 'ave seen me once, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “And there's another thing afore I go,” ses Silas. “I've left a widder, + and if she don't get 'elp from some one she'll starve.” + </p> + <p> + “Pore thing,” ses Bill. “Pore thing.” + </p> + <p> + “If you 'ad died afore me,” ses Silas, “I should 'ave looked arter your + good wife—wot I've now put in a sound sleep—as long as I + lived.” + </p> + <p> + Bill didn't say anything. + </p> + <p> + “I should 'ave given 'er fifteen shillings a week,” ses Silas. + </p> + <p> + “'Ow much?” ses Bill, nearly putting his 'ead up over the clothes, while + 'is wife almost woke up with surprise and anger. + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen shillings,” ses Silas, in 'is most awful voice. “You'll save that + over the drink.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I'll go round and see her,” ses Bill. “She might be one o' these + 'ere independent—” + </p> + <p> + “I forbid you to go near the place,” ses Silas. “Send it by post every + week; 15 Shap Street will find her. Put your arm up and swear it; same as + you did afore.” + </p> + <p> + Bill did as 'e was told, and then 'e lay and trembled, as Silas gave three + more awful groans. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, Bill,” he ses. “Farewell. I am going back to my bed at the + bottom o' the sea. So long as you keep both your oaths I shall stay there. + If you break one of 'em or go to see my pore wife I shall appear agin. + Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + Bill said “Good-by,” and arter a long silence he ventured to put an eye + over the edge of the clothes and discovered that the ghost 'ad gone. He + lay awake for a couple o' hours, wondering and saying over the address to + himself so that he shouldn't forget it, and just afore it was time to get + up he fell into a peaceful slumber. His wife didn't get a wink, and she + lay there trembling with passion to think 'ow she'd been done, and + wondering 'ow she was to alter it. + </p> + <p> + Bill told 'er all about it in the morning; and then with tears in his eyes + 'e went downstairs and emptied a little barrel o' beer down the sink. For + the fust two or three days 'e went about with a thirst that he'd ha' given + pounds for if 'e'd been allowed to satisfy it, but arter a time it went + off, and then, like all teetotallers, 'e began to run down drink and call + it pison. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-50" id="linkimage-50"> + <!-- IMG --></a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img src="images/050.jpg" width="100%" + alt="'With Tears in his Eyes 'e Emptied a Little Barrel O' Beer Down the Sink.' " /> + </div> + <!-- IMAGE END --> + <p> + The fust thing 'e did when 'e got his money on Friday was to send off a + post-office order to Shap Street, and Mrs. Burtenshaw cried with rage and + 'ad to put it down to the headache. She 'ad the headache every Friday for + a month, and Bill, wot was feeling stronger and better than he 'ad done + for years, felt quite sorry for her. + </p> + <p> + By the time Bill 'ad sent off six orders she was worn to skin and bone + a'most a-worrying over the way Silas Winch was spending her money. She + dursn't undeceive Bill for two reasons: fust of all, because she didn't + want 'im to take to drink agin; and secondly, for fear of wot he might do + to 'er if 'e found out 'ow she'd been deceiving 'im. + </p> + <p> + She was laying awake thinking it over one night while Bill was sleeping + peaceful by her side, when all of a sudden she 'ad an idea. The more she + thought of it the better it seemed; but she laid awake for ever so long + afore she dared to do more than think. Three or four times she turned and + looked at Bill and listened to 'im breathing, and then, trembling all over + with fear and excitement, she began 'er little game. + </p> + <p> + “He did send it,” she ses, with a piercing scream. “He did send it.” + </p> + <p> + “W-w-wot's the matter?” ses Bill, beginning to wake up. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw didn't take any notice of 'im. + </p> + <p> + “He did send it,” she ses, screaming agin. “Every Friday night reg'lar. + Oh, don't let 'im see you agin.” + </p> + <p> + Bill, wot was just going to ask 'er whether she 'ad gone mad, gave a awful + 'owl and disappeared right down in the middle o' the bed. + </p> + <p> + “There's some mistake,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw, in a voice that could ha' + been 'eard through arf-a-dozen beds easy. “It must ha' been lost in the + post. It must ha' been.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a few seconds, then she ses, “All right,” she ses, + “I'll bring it myself, then, by hand every week. No, Bill sha'n't come; + I'll promise that for 'im. Do go away; he might put his 'ead up at any + moment.” + </p> + <p> + She began to gasp and sob, and Bill began to think wot a good wife he 'ad + got, when he felt 'er put a couple of pillers over where she judged his + 'ead to be, and hold 'em down with her arm. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Winch,” she ses, very loud. “Thank you. Good-by, Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + She began to quieten down a bit, although little sobs, like wimmen use + when they pretend that they want to leave off crying but can't, kept + breaking out of 'er. Then, by and by, she quieted down altogether and a + husky voice from near the foot of the bed ses: “Has it gorn?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Bill,” she ses, with another sob, “I've seen the ghost!” + </p> + <p> + “Has it gorn?” ses Bill, agin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's gorn,” ses his wife, shivering. “Oh, Bill, it stood at the foot + of the bed looking at me, with its face and 'ands all shiny white, and + damp curls on its forehead. Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Bill came up very slow and careful, but with 'is eyes still shut. + </p> + <p> + “His wife didn't get the money this week,” ses Mrs. Burtenshaw; “but as he + thought there might be a mistake somewhere he appeared to me instead of to + you. I've got to take the money by hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I heard,” ses Bill; “and mind, if you should lose it or be robbed of + it, let me know at once. D'ye hear? At once!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Bill,” ses 'is wife. + </p> + <p> + They lay quiet for some time, although Mrs. Burtenshaw still kept + trembling and shaking; and then Bill ses. “Next time a man tells you he + 'as seen a ghost, p'r'aps you'll believe in 'im.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burtenshaw took out the end of the sheet wot she 'ad stuffed in 'er + mouth when 'e began to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Bill,” she ses. + </p> + <p> + Bill Burtenshaw gave 'er the fifteen shillings next morning and every + Friday night arterwards; and that's 'ow it is that, while other wimmen 'as + to be satisfied looking at new hats and clothes in the shop-winders, Mrs. + Burtenshaw is able to wear 'em. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linkimage-51" id="linkimage-51"> + <!-- IMG --></a> <br /><br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="051 (53K)" src="images/051.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10793 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/10793-h/images/001.jpg b/10793-h/images/001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..18a9ef9 --- /dev/null +++ b/10793-h/images/001.jpg diff --git a/10793-h/images/002.jpg b/10793-h/images/002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6abd3d --- /dev/null +++ b/10793-h/images/002.jpg diff --git a/10793-h/images/003.jpg b/10793-h/images/003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3b627a --- /dev/null +++ b/10793-h/images/003.jpg diff --git a/10793-h/images/004.jpg b/10793-h/images/004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..82a2cfa --- /dev/null +++ b/10793-h/images/004.jpg diff --git a/10793-h/images/005.jpg b/10793-h/images/005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..507973f --- /dev/null +++ b/10793-h/images/005.jpg diff --git a/10793-h/images/006.jpg b/10793-h/images/006.jpg Binary 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