 Chapter 18 of Dombie and Son. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Cynthia Lyons. Dombie and Son by Charles Dickens. Chapter 18. Father and Daughter. There is a hush through Mr. Dombie's house. Servants gliding up and downstairs rustle but make no sound of footsteps. They talk together constantly and sit long at meals, making much of their meat and drink and enjoying themselves after a grim, unholy fashion. Mrs. Wickham, with her eyes suffused with tears, relates melancholy anecdotes and tells somehow she always said at Mrs. Pipchins that it would be so and takes more table ale than usual and is very sorry but sociable. Cook's state of mind is similar. She promises a little fry for supper and struggles about equally against her feelings and the onions. Talenson begins to think there's a fate in it and wants to know if anybody can tell him of any good that ever came of living in a corner house. It seems to all of them as having happened a long time ago, though yet the child lies calm and beautiful upon his little bed. After dark there come some visitors, noiseless visitors with shoes of felt who having been there before and with them comes that bed of rest which is so strange a one for infant sleepers. All this time the bereaved father has not been seen even by his attendant, for he sits in an inner corner of his own dark room when anyone is there and never seems to move at other times except to pace it to and fro. But in the morning it is whispered among the household that he was heard to go upstairs in the dead night and that he stayed there in the room until the sun was shining. At the offices in the city the ground glass windows are made more dim by shutters and while lighted lamps upon the desks are half extinguished by the day that wanders in. The day is half extinguished by the lamps and unusual gloom prevails. There is not much business done. The clerks are indisposed to work and they make assignations to eat chops in the afternoon and go up the river. Perch the messenger stays long upon his errands and finds himself in bars of public houses invited thither by friends and holding forth on the uncertainty of human affairs. He goes home to Ball's pond earlier in the evening than usual and treats Mrs. Perch to a veal cutlet and scotch ale. Mr. Carker the manager treats no one. Neither is he treated but alone in his own room he shows his teeth all day and it would seem that there is something gone from Mr. Carker's path. Some obstacle removed which clears his way before him. Now the rosy children living opposite to Mr. Dombie's house peep from their nursery windows down into the street for there are four black horses at his door with feathers on their heads and feathers tremble on the carriage that they draw and these and an array of men with scarves and staves attract a crowd. A juggler who is going to twirl the basin puts his loose coat on again over his fine dress and his trudging wife one sided with her heavy baby in her arms. Loiders to see the company come out but closer to her dingy breast she presses her baby when the burden that is so easily carried is born forth and the youngest of the rosy children at the high window opposite needs no restraining hand to check her in her glee. When pointing with her dimpled finger she looks into her nurses face and asks what's that and now among the knot of servants dressed in mourning and the weeping women Mr. Dombie passes through the hall to the other carriage that is waiting to receive him. He is not brought down these observers think by sorrow and distress of mind. His walk is as erect his bearing is as stiff as ever it had been. He hides his face behind no handkerchief and looks before him but that his face is something sunk and rigid and his pale. It bears the same expression as of old. He takes his place within the carriage and three other gentlemen follow. Then the grand funeral moves slowly down the street. The feathers are yet nodding in the distance when the juggler has the basin spinning on a cane and has the same crowd admire it. But the juggler's wife is less alert than usual with the money box for a child's burial has set her thinking that perhaps the baby underneath her shabby shawl may not grow up to be a man and wear a sky blue fillet round his head and salmon colored worsted drawers and tumble in the mud. The feathers wind their gloomy way along the streets and come within the sound of a church bell. In this same church the pretty boy received all that will be soon left of him on earth a name. All of him that is dead they lay there near the perishable substance of his mother. It is well their ashes lie where Florence in her walks oh lonely lonely walks may pass them any day. The service over and the clergyman withdrawn Mr. Dombie looks round demanding in a low voice whether the person who has been requested to attend to receive instructions for the tablet is there. Someone comes forward and says yes. Mr. Dombie intimates where he would have it placed and shows him with his hand upon the wall the shape and size and how it is to follow the memorial to the mother. Then with his pencil he writes out the inscription and gives it to him adding I wish to have it done at once. It shall be done immediately sir. There is really nothing to inscribe but name and age you see. The man bows glancing at the paper but appears to hesitate. Mr. Dombie not observing his hesitation turns away and leads towards the porch. I beg your pardon sir. A touch falls gently on his morning cloak but as you wish it done immediately and it may be put in hand when I get back well will you be so good as to read it over again. I think there's a mistake. Where the statuary gives him back the paper and points out with his pocket rule the words beloved and only child. It should be son I think sir. You are right of course make the correction. The father with a hastier step pursues his way to the coach. When the other three who follow closely take their seats his face is hidden for the first time shaded by his cloak nor do they see it anymore that day. He lights first and passes immediately into his own room. The other mourners who are only Mr. Chick and two of the medical attendants proceed upstairs to the drawing room to be received by Mrs. Chick and Ms. Tox and what the face is in the shut up chamber underneath. Or what the thoughts are. What the heart is. What the contest or the suffering no one knows. The chief thing that they know below stairs in the kitchen is that it seems like Sunday. They can hardly persuade themselves but that there is something unbecoming if not wicked in the conduct of the people out of doors. Who pursue their ordinary occupations and where their every day attire. It is quite a novelty to have the blinds up and the shutters open and they make themselves dismally comfortable over bottles of wine which are freely broached as on a festival. They are much inclined to moralize. Mr. Talinson proposes with a sigh amendment to us all for which as Cook says with another sigh there's room enough God knows. In the evening Mrs. Chick and Ms. Tox take to needlework again. In the evening also Mr. Talinson goes out to take the air accompanied by the housemaid who has not yet tried her mourning bonnet. They are very tender to each other at dusky street corners and Talinson has visions of leading an altered and blameless existence as a serious greengrocer in Oxford market. There is sounder sleep and deeper rest in Mr. Dombie's house tonight than there has been for many nights. The morning sun awakens the old household. Settle down once more in their old ways. The rosy children opposite run past with hoops. There is a splendid wedding in the church. The juggler's wife is active with the money box in another quarter of the town. The mason sings and whistles as he chips out P-A-U-L in the marble slate before him. And can it be that in a world so full and busy the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of vast eternity can fill it up? Florence, in her innocent affliction, might have answered, O my brother, O my dearly loved and loving brother, only friend and companion of my slighted childhood, could any less idea shed the light already dawning on your early grave or give birth to the softened sorrow that is springing into life beneath this rain of tears? My dear child, said Mrs. Chick, who held it as a duty incumbent on her to improve the occasion, when you are as old as I am. Which will be the prime of life, observed Miss Tox? You will then, pursued Mrs. Chick, gently squeezing Miss Tox's hand in acknowledgment of her friendly remark, you will then know that all grief is unavailing and that it is our duty to submit. I will try, dear aunt, I do try, answered Florence, sobbing. I am glad to hear it, said Mrs. Chick, because my love, as our dear Miss Tox, of whose sound sense and excellent judgment there cannot possibly be two opinions. My dear Louisa, I shall really be proud soon, said Miss Tox. We'll tell you and confirm by her experience, pursued Mrs. Chick, we are called upon on all occasions to make an effort. It is required of us, if any, my dear, turning to Miss Tox. I want a word, Miss, Miss. demeanor, suggested Miss Tox. No, no, no, said Mrs. Chick. How can you? Goodness me, it's on the end of my tongue, Miss. Placed affection, suggested Miss Tox timidly. Good gracious Lucretia, returned Mrs. Chick. How very monstrous. Misanthrope is the word I want. The idea, misplaced affection, I say. If any misanthrope were to put in my presence the question, why were we born? I should reply to make an effort. Very good indeed, said Miss Tox, very impressed by the originality of the sentiment. Very good. Unhappily, pursued Mrs. Chick, we have a warning under our own eyes. We have but too much reason to suppose, my dear child, that if an effort had been made in time in this family, a train of the most trying and distressing circumstances might have been avoided. Nothing shall ever persuade me, observed the good matron, with a resolute air. But that if that effort had been made by poor dear Fanny, the poor dear darling child would at least have had a stronger constitution. Mrs. Chick abandoned herself to her feelings for half a moment, but as a practical illustration of her doctrine brought herself up short in the middle of a sob and went on again. Therefore, Florence, pray let us see that you have some strength of mind and do not selfishly aggravate the distress in which your poor papa is plunged. Dear aunt, said Florence, kneeling quickly down before her, that she might the better and more earnestly look into her face. Tell me more about papa, pray tell me about him. Is he quite heartbroken? Miss Talks was of a tender nature. There was something in this appeal that moved her very much, whether she saw it as a succession on the part of the neglected child to the affectionate concerns so often expressed by her dead brother, or a love that sought to twine itself about the heart that had loved him and that could not bear to be shut out from sympathy with such a sorrow in such sad community of love and grief, or whether she only recognized the earnest and devoted spirit which, although discarded and repulsed, was wrung with tenderness long unreturned and in the waste and solitude of this bereavement cried to him to seek a comfort in it and to give some, by some small response, whatever may have been her understanding of it, moved Miss Talks. For the moment she forgot the majesty of Mrs. Chick and putting Florence hastily on the cheek turned aside and suffered the tears to gush from her eyes without waiting for a lead from that wise matron. Mrs. Chick herself lost for a moment the presence of mind on which she so much prided herself and remained mute, looking on the beautiful young face that had so long so steadily and patiently been turned towards the little bed, but recovering her voice which was synonymous with her presence of mind, indeed they were one and the same thing, she replied with dignity. Florence, my dear child, your poor papa is peculiar at times, and to question me about him is to question me upon a subject which I really do not pretend to understand. I believe I have as much influence with your papa as anybody has. Still all I can say is that he has said very little to me and that I have only seen him once or twice for a minute at a time and indeed have hardly seen him then, for his room has been dark. I have said to your papa, Paul, that is the exact expression I used. Paul, why do you not take something stimulating? Your papa's reply has always been, Luisa, have the goodness to leave me, I want nothing, I am better by myself. If I was to be put upon my oath tomorrow, Lucretia, before a magistrate, said Mrs. Chick, I have no doubt I could venture to swear to those identical words. Ms. Tox expressed her admiration by saying, My Luisa is ever methodical. In short, Florence resumed her aunt. Literally nothing has passed between your poor papa and myself until today when I mentioned to your papa that Barnette and Lady Skettles had written exceedingly kind notes, our sweet boy. Lady Skettles loved him like a, Where's my pocket handkerchief? Ms. Tox produced one. Exceedingly kind notes, proposing that you should visit them for change of scene, mentioning to your papa that I thought Ms. Tox and myself might now go home, in which he quite agreed. I inquired if he had any objection to your accepting the invitation. He said no, Luisa, not the least. Florence raised her tearful eyes. At the same time, if you would prefer staying here, Florence, to paying this visit at present or to going home with me, I should prefer it, aunt, was the faint rejoinder. Why then, my child said, Mrs. Chick, you can. It's a strange choice, I must say, but you always were strange. Anybody else at your time of life and after what has passed, my dear Ms. Tox, I have lost my pocket handkerchief again, would be glad to leave here, one would suppose. I should not like to feel, said Florence, as if the house was avoided. I should not like to think that the rooms upstairs were quite empty and dreary, aunt. I would rather stay here for the present. Oh, my brother! Oh, my brother! It was a natural emotion not to be suppressed, and it would make way, even between the fingers of the hands with which she covered up her face. The overcharged and heavy laden breast must sometimes have the vent, or the poor wounded solitary heart within it would have fluttered like a bird with broken wings and sunk down in the dust. Well, child, said Mrs. Chick, after a pause. I wouldn't on any account say anything unkind to you, and that, I'm sure you know. You will remain here, then, and do exactly as you like. No one will interfere with you, Florence, or wish to interfere with you, I'm sure. Florence shook her head in sad ascent. I had no sooner begun to advise your poor papa that he really ought to seek some distraction and restoration in a temporary change, said Mrs. Chick. Then he told me he had already formed the intention of going into the country for a short time. I'm sure. I hope he'll go very soon. He can't go too soon. But I suppose there are some arrangements connected with his private papers and so forth, consequent on the affliction that has tried us all so much. I can't think what's become of mine. Lucretia lend me yours, my dear. That may occupy him for one or two evenings in his own room. Your papa's a domby, child, if there was ever one, said Mrs. Chick, drying both of her eyes at once with great care on opposite corners of Miss Tux's handkerchief. He'll make an effort. There's no fear of him. Is there nothing, Aunt? Said Florence, trembling I might do too. Lord, my dear child, interpose Mrs. Chick hastily. What are you talking about? If your papa said to me, I have given you his exact words. Louisa, I want nothing. I am better by myself. What do you think he'd say to you? You mustn't show yourself to him, child. Don't dream of such a thing. Aunt? Said Florence, I will go and lie down on my bed. Mrs. Chick approved of this resolution and dismissed her with a kiss. But Miss Tux, on a faint pretense of looking for the mislaid handkerchief, went upstairs after her and tried in a few stolen minutes to comfort her in spite of great discouragement from Susan Nipper. For Miss Nipper, in her burning zeal, disparaged Miss Tux as a crocodile, yet her sympathy seemed genuine and had at least the vantage ground of disinterestedness. There was little favor to be won by it. And was there no one nearer or dearer than Susan to uphold the striving heart in its anguish? Was there no other neck to clasp, no other face to turn to, no one else to say a soothing word to such deep sorrow? Was Florence so alone in the bleak world that nothing else remained to her? Nothing, stricken motherless and brotherless at once, for in the loss of little Paul, that first and greatest loss fell heavily upon her. This was the only help she had. Oh, who can tell how much she needed help at first? At first, when the house subsided into its accustomed course, and they had all gone away except the servants, and her father shut up in his own room, Florence could do nothing but weep and wander up and down, and sometimes, in a sudden pang of desolate remembrance, fly to her own chamber, ringing her hands, lay her face down on her bed, and know no consolation. Nothing but the bitterness and cruelty of grief. This commonly ensued upon the recognition of some spot or object very tenderly associated with him, and it made the miserable house at first a place of agony. But it is not in the nature of pure love to burn so fiercely and unkindly long. The flame that in its grosser composition has the taint of earth may prey upon the breast that gives it shelter, but the sacred fire from heaven is as gentle in the heart as when it rested on the heads of the assembled twelve and showed each man his brother, brightened and unhurt. The image conjured up. There soon returned the placid face, the softened voice, the loving looks, the quiet trustfulness and peace, and Florence, though she wept still, wept more tranquilly, and courted the remembrance. It was not very long before the golden water dancing on the wall in the old place at the old serene time had her calm eye fixed upon it as it ebbed away. It was not very long before that room again knew her, often sitting there alone as patient and as mild as when he had watched her beside the little bed. When any sharp sense of its being empty smote upon her, she could kneel beside it and pray God. It was the pouring out of her full heart to let one angel love her and remember her. It was not very long before, in the midst of the dismal house so wide and dreary, her low voice in the twilight, slowly and stopping sometimes, touched the old air to which he had so often listened with his drooping head upon her arm. And after that, and when it was quite dark, a little strain of music trembled in the room so softly played and sung that it was more like the mournful recollection of what she had done at his request on that last night than the reality repeated. But it was repeated often, very often, in the shadowy solitude and broken murmurs of the old strains still trembled on the keys when the sweet voice was hushed in tears. Thus she gained heart to look upon the work with which her fingers had been busy by his side on the seashore and thus it was not very long before she took to it again with something of a human love for it as if it had been sentient and had known him. And sitting in a window near her mother's picture in the unused room so long deserted wore away the thoughtful hours. Why did the dark eyes turn so often from this work to where the rosy children lived? They were not immediately suggestive of her loss, for they were all girls, four little sisters, but they were motherless like her and had a father. It was easy to know when he had gone out and was expected home, for the elder child was always dressed and waiting for him at the drawing room window or in the balcony. And when he appeared her expectant face lighted up with joy while the others at the high window and always on the watch, too, clapped their hands and drummed them on the sill and called to him. The elder child would come down to the hall and put her hand in his and lead him up the stairs and Florence would see her afterwards sitting by his side or on his knee or hanging coaxingly about his neck and talking to him. And though they were always gay together, he would often watch her face as if he thought her like her mother that was dead. Florence would sometimes look no more at this and bursting into tears would hide behind the curtain as if she were frightened or would hurry from the window. Yet she could not help returning and her work would soon fall unheeded from her hands again. It was the house that had been empty years ago. It remained so for a long time. At last and while she had been away from home this family had taken it and it was repaired and newly painted and there were birds and flowers about it and it looked very different from its old self. But she never thought of the house. The children and their father were all in all. When he had dined and she could see them through the open window go down with their governess or nurse and clust around the table and in the still summer weather the sound of their childish voices and clear laughter would come ringing across the street into the drooping air of the room in which she sat. Then they would climb and clammer upstairs with him and romp about him on the sofa or group themselves at his knee a very nose gay of little faces while he seemed to tell them some story. Or they would come running out into the balcony and then Florence would hide herself quickly lest it should check them in their joy to see her in her black dress sitting there alone. The elder child remained with her father when the rest had gone away and made her tea for him. Happy little housekeeper she was then and sat conversing with him sometimes at the window sometimes in the room until the candles came. He made her his companion though she was some years younger than Florence and she could be as stayed and pleasantly demure with her little book or work box as a woman. When they had candles Florence from her own dark room was not afraid to look again. But when the time came for the child to say good night papa and go to bed Florence would sob and tremble as she raised her face to him and could look no more. Though she still would turn again and again before going to bed herself from the simple air that held lulled him to rest so often long ago and from the other low soft broken strain of music back to that house. But that she ever thought of it or watched it was a secret which she kept within her own young breast. And did that breast of Florence Florence so ingenious and true so worthy of the love that he had borne her and had whispered in his last faint words whose guileless heart was mirrored in the beauty of her face and breathed in every accent of her gentle voice did that young breast hold any other secret. Yes, one more. When no one in the house was stirring and the lights were all extinguished she would softly leave her own room and with noiseless feet descend the staircase and approach her father's door. Against it scarcely breathing she would rest her face and head and press her lips in the yearning of her love. She crouched upon the cold stone floor outside it every night to listen even for his breath. And in her one absorbing wish to be allowed to show him some affection to be a consolation to him to win him over to the endurance of some tenderness from her. His solitary child she would have knelt down at his feet if she had dared in humble supplication. No one knew it. No one thought of it. The door was ever closed and he shut up within. He went out once or twice and it was said in the house that he was very soon going on his country journey but he lived in those rooms and lived alone and never saw her or inquired for her. Perhaps he did not even know that she was in the house. One day about a week after the funeral Florence was sitting at her work when Susan appeared with a face half laughing and half crying to announce a visitor. A visitor? To me Susan? said Florence looking up in astonishment. Well, it is a wonder. Ain't it now, Miss Floyd? said Susan. But I wish you had many visitors. I do indeed for you'll be all the better for it and it's my opinion that the sooner you and me goes even to them old schettleses miss the better for both. I may not wish to live in crowds Miss Floyd but still I'm not an oyster. To do Miss Nipper justice she spoke more for her young mistress than herself and her face showed it. But the visitor Susan said Florence. Susan with a hysterical explosion that was as much a laugh as a sob and as much a sob as a laugh answered, Mr. Toots. The smile that appeared on Florence's face passed from it in a moment and her eyes filled with tears. But at any rate it was a smile and that gave great satisfaction to Miss Nipper. My own feelings exactly Miss Floyd said Susan putting her apron to her eyes and shaking her head. Immediately I see that innocent in the hall Miss Floyd I burst out laughing first and then I choked. Susan Nipper involuntarily proceeded to do the like again on the spot. In the meantime Mr. Toots who had come upstairs after her all unconscious of the effect he produced announced himself with his knuckles on the door and walked in very briskly. How do you do Miss Dombie? said Mr. Toots. I'm very well I thank you. How are you? Mr. Toots then whom there were few better fellows in the world though there may have been one or two brighter spirits had laboriously invented this long burst of discourse with the view of relieving the feelings both of Florence and himself. But finding that he had run through his property as it were in an injudicious manner by squandering the whole before taking a chair or before Florence had uttered a word or before he had well got in at the door he deemed it advisable to begin again. How do you do Miss Dombie? said Mr. Toots. I'm very well I thank you. How are you? Florence gave him her hand and said she was very well. I'm very well indeed said Mr. Toots taking a chair. Very well indeed I am. I don't remember said Mr. Toots after reflecting a little that I was ever better thank you. It's very kind of you to come said Florence taking up her work. I am very glad to see you. Mr. Toots responded with a chuckle thinking that might be too lively he corrected it with a sigh thinking that might be too melancholy he corrected it with a chuckle. Not thoroughly pleasing himself with either mode of reply he breathed hard. You were very kind to my dear brother said Florence obeying her own natural impulse to relieve him by saying so. He often talked to me about you. Oh it's of no consequence said Mr. Toots hastily. Warm ain't it? It is beautiful weather replied Florence. It agrees with me said Mr. Toots I don't think I ever was so well as I find myself at present I'm obliged to you. After stating this curious and unexpected fact Mr. Toots fell into a deep well of silence. You have left Dr. Blimbers I think said Florence trying to help him out. I should hope so returned Mr. Toots and tumbled in again. He remained at the bottom apparently drowned for at least ten minutes at the expiration of that period he suddenly floated and said. Well good morning Miss Dombie. Are you going as Florence rising? I don't know though. No not just at present said Mr. Toots sitting down again most unexpectedly. The fact is I say Miss Dombie. Don't be afraid to speak to me said Florence with a quiet smile. I should be very glad if you would talk about my brother. Would you though retorted Mr. Toots with sympathy in every fiber of his otherwise expressionless face. Poor Dombie I'm sure I never thought that Burgess and Company fashionable tailors though but very dear that we used to talk about would make this suit of clothes for such a purpose. Mr. Toots was dressed in mourning. Poor Dombie I say Miss Dombie blubbered Toots. Yes said Florence. There's a friend he took to very much at last. I thought you'd like to have him perhaps as a sort of keepsake. You remember his remembering diogenes? Oh yes oh yes cried Florence. Poor Dombie so do I said Mr. Toots. Mr. Toots seeing Florence in tears had great difficulty in getting beyond this point and had nearly tumbled into the well again but a chuckle saved him on the brink. I say he proceeded. Miss Dombie I could have had him stolen for ten shillings if they hadn't given him up and I would but they were glad to get rid of him I think. If you'd like to have him he's at the door. I brought him on purpose for you. He ain't a lady's dog you know said Mr. Toots but you won't mind that will you? In fact diogenes was at that moment as they presently ascertained from looking down into the street staring through the window of a hackney cabriolet into which for conveyance to that spot he had been ensnared on a false pretense of rats among the straw. Seuth to say he was as unlike a lady's dog as might be and in his gruff anxiety to get out presented an appearance sufficiently unpromising as he gave short yelps out of one side of his mouth and overbalancing himself by the intensity of every one of those efforts tumbled down into the straw and then sprung panting up again putting out his tongue as if he had come express to a dispensary to be examined for his health. But though diogenes was as ridiculous a dog as one would meet with on a summer's day a blundering ill-favored clumsy bullet headed dog continually acting on a wrong idea that there was an enemy in the neighborhood whom it was meritorious to bark at and though he was far from good tempered and certainly was not clever and had hair all over his eyes and a comic nose and an inconsistent tail and a gruff voice he was dearer to Florence in virtue of that parting remembrance of him and that request that he might be taken care of than the most valuable and beautiful of his kind. So dear indeed was this same ugly diogenes and so welcome to her that she took the jeweled hand of Mr. Toots and kissed it in her gratitude and when diogenes released came tearing up the stairs and bouncing into the room such a business as there was first to get him out of the cabriolet dived under all the furniture and wound a long iron chain that dangled from his neck round legs of chairs and tables and then tugged at it until his eyes became unnaturally visible in consequence of their nearly staring out of his head and when he growled at Mr. Toots who affected familiarity and when Pell-Mell Atowlinson morally convinced that he was the enemy whom he had barked at round the corner all his life and had never seen yet. Florence was as pleased with him as if he had been a miracle of discretion. Mr. Toots was so overjoyed by the success of his present and was so delighted to see Florence bending down over diogenes smoothing his coarse back with her little delicate hand diogenes graciously allowing it from the first moment of their acquaintance that he felt it difficult to take leave and would no doubt have been a much longer time in making up his mind to do so if he had not been assisted by diogenes himself who suddenly took it into his head to bay Mr. Toots and to make short runs at him with his mouth open. Not exactly seeing his way to the end of these demonstrations and sensible that they placed the pantaloons constructed by the art of Burgess and Company in jeopardy Mr. Toots with chuckles lapsed out at the door by which after looking in again two or three times without any object at all and being on each occasion greeted with a fresh run from diogenes he finally took himself off and got away. Come then die dear die make friends with your new mistress let us love each other die said Florence fondling his shaggy head and die the rough and gruff as if his hairy hide were pervious to the tear that dropped upon it and his dog's heart melted as it fell put his nose up to her face and swore fidelity diogenes the man did not speak plainer to Alexander the Great then diogenes the dog spoke to Florence. He subscribed to the offer of his little mistress cheerfully and devoted himself to her service. A banquet was immediately provided for him in a corner and when he had eaten and drunk his fill he went to the window where Florence was sitting looking on rose up on his hind legs with his awkward fore-pause on her shoulder licked her face and hands nestled his great head against her heart and wagged his tail till he was tired. Finally diogenes called himself up at her feet and went to sleep. Although Miss Nipper was nervous in regard of dogs and felt it necessary to come into the room with her skirts carefully collected about her as if she were crossing a brook on stepping stones. Also to utter little screams and stand up on chairs when diogenes stretched himself she was in her own manner affected by the kindness of Mr. Toots and could not see Florence so alive to the attachment and society of this rude friend of little Pauls without some mental comments thereupon that brought the water to her eyes. Mr. Dombi as a part of her reflections may have been in the association of ideas connected with a dog but at any rate after observing diogenes and his mistress all the evening and after exerting herself with much good will to provide diogenes a bed in an anti-chamber outside his mistress's door she said hurriedly to Florence before leaving her for the night. Your pause going off Miss Floyd tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning Susan? Yes Miss that's the orders early. Do you know as Florence without looking at her where Papa is going Susan? Not exactly Miss he's going to meet that precious major first and I must say if I was acquainted with any major myself which heavens forbid it shouldn't be a blue one. Hush Susan urged Florence gently. Well Miss Floyd returned Miss Nipper who was full of burning indignation and minded her stops even less than usual. I can't help it blue he is and while I was a Christian although humble I would have natural colored friends or none. It appeared from what she added and had gleaned downstairs that Mrs. Chick had proposed the major for Mr. Dombi's companion that Mr. Dombi after some hesitation had invited him. Talk of him being a change indeed observed Miss Nipper to herself with boundless contempt. If he's a change give me a constancy. Good night Susan said Florence. Good night my darling dear Miss Floyd. Her tone of commiserations smote the cord so often roughly touched but never listened to while she or anyone looked on. Florence left alone laid her head upon her hand and pressing the other over her swelling heart held free communication with her sorrows. It was a wet night and the melancholy rain felt pattering and dropping with a wearied sound. A sluggish wind was blowing and went moaning round the house as if it were in pain or grief. A shrill noise quivered through the trees while she sat weeping it grew late and dreary midnight told out from the steeples. Florence was little more than a child in years not yet fourteen and the loneliness and gloom of such an hour in the great house where death had lately made its own tremendous devastation might have set an older fancy brooding on vague terrors but her innocent imagination was too full of one theme to admit them. Nothing wandered in her thoughts but love a wandering love indeed and cast away but turning always to her father. There was nothing in the dropping of the rain the moaning of the wind the shuttering of the trees the striking of the solemn clocks that shook this one thought or diminished its interest her recollections of the dear dead boy and they were never absent or itself the same thing and oh to be shut out to be so lost never to have looked into her father's face or touched him since that hour. She could not go to bed poor child and never had gone yet since then without making her nightly pilgrimage to his door it would have been a strange sad sight to see her now stealing lightly down the stairs through the thick gloom and stopping at it with a beating heart and blinded eyes and hair that fell down loosely and on thought of and touching it outside with her wet cheek the night covered it and no one knew the moment that she touched the door on this night Florence found that it was open for the first time it stood open though by but a hair's breath and there was a light within the first impulse of that timid child and she yielded to it was to retire swiftly her next to go back and to enter and this second impulse held her in irresolution on the staircase in it standing open even by so much as that chink there seemed to be hope there was encouragement in seeing a ray of light from within stealing through the dark stern doorway and falling in a thread upon the marble floor she turned back, hardly knowing what she did but urged on by the love within her and the trial they had undergone together but not shared and with her hands a little raised and trembling glided in her father sat at his old table in the middle room he had been arranging some papers and destroying others and the latter lay in fragile ruins before him the rain dripped heavily upon the glass panes in the outer room where he had so often watched poor Paul a baby and the low complainings of the wind were heard without but not by him he sat with his eyes fixed on the table so immersed in thought that a far heavier tread than the light foot if his child could make might have failed to rouse him his face was turned towards her by the waning lamp but at that haggard hour it looked worn and dejected and in the utter loneliness surrounding him there was an appeal to Florence that struck home Papa, Papa, speak to me, dear Papa he started at her voice and leaped up from his seat she was close before him with extended arms but he fell back what is the matter? he said sternly why do you come here? what has frightened you? if anything had frightened her it was the face he turned upon her the glowing love within the breast of his young daughter froze before it and she stood and looked at him as if stricken into stone there was not one touch of tenderness or pity in it there was not one gleam of interest parental recognition or relenting in it there was a change in it but not of that kind the old indifference and cold constraint had given place to something what she never thought and did not dare to think and yet she felt it in its force and knew it well without a name that as it looked upon her seemed to cast a shadow on her head did he see before him the successful rival of his son in health and life did he look upon his own successful rival in that son's affection did a mad jealousy and withered pride poisoned sweet remembrances that should have endeared and made her precious to him could it be possible that it was gall to him to look upon her in her beauty and her promise thinking of his infant boy Florence had no such thoughts but love is quick to know when it is spurned and hopeless and hope died out of hers as she stood looking in her father's face I ask you Florence are you frightened is there anything the matter that you come here I came papa against my wishes why she saw he knew why it was written broadly on his face and dropped her head upon her hands with one prolonged low cry let him remember it in that room years to come it has faded from the air before he breaks the silence it may pass as quickly from his brain as he believes but it is there let him remember it in that room years to come he took her by the arm his hand was cold and loose and scarcely closed upon her you are tired I dare say he said taking up the light and leading her towards the door and want rest we all want rest go Florence you have been dreaming the dream she had had was over them God help her and she felt that it could never more come back I will remain here to light you up the stairs the whole house is yours above there said her father slowly you are its mistress now good night still covering her face she sobbed and answered good night dear papa and silently ascended once she looked back as if she would have returned to him but for fear it was a momentary thought too hopeless to encourage and her father stood there with the light hard unresponsive motionless until the fluttering dress of his fair child was lost in the darkness let him remember in that room years to come the rain that falls upon the roof the wind that mourns outside the door may have foreknowledge in their melancholy sound let him remember it in that room years to come the last time he had watched her from the same place winding up those stairs she had had her brother in her arms it did not move his heart toward her now it steeled it but he went into his room and locked his door and sat down in his chair and cried for his lost boy Diogenes was broad awake upon his post and waiting for his little mistress oh die, oh dear die, love me for his sake Diogenes already loved her for her own and didn't care how much he showed it so he made himself vastly ridiculous forming a variety of uncouth bounces in the ante chamber and concluded when poor Florence was at last asleep of dreaming of the rosy children opposite by scratching upon her bedroom door rolling up his bed into a pillow lying down on the boards at the full height of his tether with his head towards her and looking lazily at her upside down out of the tops of his eyes all from winking and winking he fell asleep himself and dreamed with gruff barks of his enemy End of Chapter 18 Chapter 19 of Dambi and Son This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Cynthia Lyons Dambi and Son by Charles Dickens Chapter 19 Walter Goes Away The wooden midshipman at the instrument maker's door like the hard-hearted little midshipman he was remained supremely indifferent to Walter's going away even when the very last day of his sojourn in the back parlor was on the decline with his quadrant at his round black knob of an eye and his figure in its old attitude of indomitable alacrity the midshipman displayed his elfin small clothes to the best advantage and absorbed in scientific pursuits had no sympathy with worldly concerns he was so far the creature of circumstances that a dry day covered him with dust and a misty day peppered him with little bits of soot and a wet day brightened up his tarnished uniform for the moment and a very hot day blistered him but otherwise he was a callous obdurate conceited midshipman intent on his own discoveries and caring as little for what went on about him terrestrially as Archimedes at the taking of Syracuse such a midshipman he seemed to be at least in the then position of domestic affairs Walter eyed him kindly many a time in passing in and out and poor old Saul when Walter was not there would come and lean against the doorpost resting his weary wig as near the shoebuckles of the guardian genius of his trade and shop as he could but no fierce idle with a mouth from ear to ear and a murderous visage made of parrot's feathers was ever more indifferent to the appeals of its savage votaries than was the midshipman to these marks of attachment Walter's heart felt heavy as he looked round his old bedroom up among the parapets and chimney pots and thought that one more night already darkening with clothes his acquaintance with it perhaps forever dismantled of his little stock of books and pictures it looked coldly and reproachfully on him for his desertion and had already a foreshadowing upon it of its coming strangeness a few hours more thought Walter and no dream I ever had here when I was a schoolboy will be so little mined as this old room the dream may come back in my sleep and I may return waking to this place it may be but the dream at least will serve no other master and the room may have a score and every one of them may change neglect misuse it but his uncle was not to be left alone in the little back parlor where he was then sitting by himself for Captain Cuddle considerate in his roughness stayed away against his will purposely that they should have some talk together unobserved so Walter newly returned home from his last day's bustle descended briskly to bear him company uncle he said gaily laying his hand upon the old man's shoulder what shall I send you home from Barbados hope my dear Wally hope that we shall meet again on this side of the grave send me as much of that as you can so I will uncle I have enough and to spare and I'll not be cherry of it and as to lively turtles and limes for Captain Cuddle's punch and preserves for you on Sunday and all that sort of thing why I'll send you ship loads uncle when I'm rich enough old saw wiped his spectacles and faintly smiled that's right uncle cried Walter merrily and clapping him half a dozen times more upon the shoulder you cheer me up I'll cheer you will be as gay as Locke's tomorrow morning uncle and will fly as high as to my anticipations they are singing out of sight now Wally my dear boy return the old man I'll do my best I'll do my best and your best uncle said Walter with his pleasant laugh is the best best that I know you'll not forget what you're to send me uncle no Wally no replied the old man everything I hear about Miss Domby now that she is left alone poor lamb I'll write I fear it won't be much though Wally why I'll tell you what uncle said Walter after a moment's hesitation I have just been up there I I I murmured the old man raising his eyebrows and his spectacles with them not to see her said Walter though I could have seen her I dare say if I had asked Mr. Domby being out of town but to say a parting word to Susan I thought I might venture to do that you know under the circumstances and remembering when I saw Miss Domby last yes my boy yes replied his uncle rousing himself from a temporary abstraction so I saw her pursued Walter Susan I mean and I told her I was often away tomorrow and I said uncle that you had always had an interest in Miss Domby since that night when she was here and always wished her well and happy and always would be proud and glad to serve her in the least I thought I might say that you know under the circumstances don't you think so yes my boy yes replied his uncle in the tone as before and I added pursued Walter that if she Susan I mean could ever let you know either through herself or Mrs. Richards or anybody else who might be coming this way that Miss Domby was well and happy you would take it very kindly and would write so much to me and I should take it very kindly too there upon my word uncle said Walter I scarcely slept all last night through thinking of doing this and could not make up my mind when I was out whether to do it or not and yet I am sure it is the true feeling of my heart and I should have been quite miserable afterwards if I had not relieved it his honest voice and manner corroborated what he said and quite established its ingenuousness so if you ever see her uncle said Walter I mean Miss Domby now and perhaps you may who knows tell her how much I felt for her how much I used to think of her when I was here how I spoke of her with the tears in my eyes uncle on this last night before I went away tell her that I said I never could forget her gentle manner or her beautiful face or her sweet kind disposition that was better than all and as I didn't take them from a woman's feet or a young lady's only a little innocent child said Walter tell her if you don't mind uncle that I kept those shoes she'll remember how often they fell off that night and took them away with me as a remembrance they were at that very moment going out at the door in one of Walter's trunks a porter carrying off his baggage on a truck for shipment to the docks on board the sun and air had got possession of them and wheeled them away under the very eye of the insensible midshipman before their owner had well finished speaking but that ancient mariner might have been excused his insensibility to the treasure as it rolled away for under his eye at the same moment accurately within his range of observation coming full into the sphere of his startled and intensely wide awake lookout were Florence and Susan Nipper Florence looking up into his face half timidly and receiving the whole shock of his wooden ogling more than this they passed into the shop and passed in at the parlor door before they were observed by anybody but the midshipman and Walter having his back to the door would have known nothing of their apparition even then but for seeing his uncle spring out of his own chair and nearly tumble over another why uncle exclaimed Walter what's the matter old Solomon replied Miss Domby is it possible cried Walter looking round and starting up in his turn here why it was so possible and so actual that while the words were on his lips Florence hurried past him took Uncle Sal's snuff colored lapels one in each hand kissed him on the cheek and turning gave her hand to Walter with a simple truth and earnestness that was her own and no one else is in the world going away Walter said Florence yes Miss Domby he replied but not so hopefully as he endeavored I have a voyage before me and your uncle said Florence looking back at Solomon he is sorry you are going I am sure ah I see he is dear Walter I am very sorry too goodness knows exclaimed Miss Nipper there's a many we could spare instead if numbers is a object Mrs. Pipchin as a overseer would come cheap at her weight in gold and if a knowledge of black slavery should be required then blimbers is the very people for the situation with that Miss Nipper untied her bonnet strings and after looking vacantly for some moments into a little black teapot that was set forth with the usual homely service on the table shook her head and a tin canister and began unasked to make the tea in the meantime Florence had turned again to the instrument maker who was as full of admiration as surprise so grown said old Saul so improved and yet not altered just the same indeed said Florence yeah yes returned old Saul rubbing his hands slowly and considering the manner half allowed as something pensive in the bright eyes looking at him arrested his attention yes that expression was in the younger face too you remember me said Florence with a smile and what a little creature I was then my dear lady returned the instrument maker how could I forget you often as I have thought of you and heard of you since at the very moment indeed when you came in while he was talking about you to me I'm leaving messages for you and was he said Florence thank you Walter oh thank you Walter I was afraid you might be going away and hardly thinking of me and again she gave him her little hand so freely and so faithfully that Walter held it for some moments in his own and could not bear to let it go yet Walter did not hold it as he might have held it once nor did its touch awaken those old day dreams of his boyhood that had floated past him sometimes even lately and confused him with their indistinct and broken shapes the purity and innocence of her endearing manner and its perfect trustfulness and the undisguised regard for him that lay so deeply seated in her constant eyes and glowed upon her fair face through the smile that shaded for alas it was a smile too sad to brighten it were not of their romantic race they brought back to his thoughts the early deathbed he had seen her tending and the love the child had borne her and on the wings of such remembrance she seemed to rise up far above his idle fancies to clear and serene air I am afraid I must call you Walter's uncle sir said Florence to the old man if you let me my dear young lady cried old Saul let you good gracious we always knew you by that name and talked of you said Florence glancing round and sighing gently the nice old parlor just the same how well I recollect it old Saul looked first at her then at his nephew and then rubbed his hands and rubbed his spectacles and said below his breath ah, time, time, time there was a short silence during which Susan Nipper skillfully impounded two extra cups and saucers from the cupboard and awaited the drawing of the tea with a thoughtful air I want to tell Walter's uncle said Florence, laying her hand timidly upon the old man's as it rested on the table to bespeak his attention something that I am anxious about he's going to be left alone and if he will allow me not to take Walter's place for that I couldn't do but to be his true friend and help him if I ever can while Walter is away I shall be very much obliged to him indeed will you, may I, Walter's uncle? the instrument maker without speaking put her hand to his lips and Susan Nipper leaning back with her arms crossed in the chair of presidency into which she had voted herself bit one end of her bonnet strings and heaved a gentle sigh as she looked up at the skylight you will let me come to see you, said Florence when I can and you will tell me everything about yourself and Walter and you will have no secrets from Susan when she comes and I do not but will confide in us and trust us and rely upon us and you'll try to let us be a comfort to you will you, Walter's uncle? the sweet face looking into his the gentle pleading eyes the soft voice the light touch on his arm made the more winning by a child's respect and honor for his age that gave to all an air of graceful doubt and modest hesitation these and her natural earnestness so overcame the poor old instrument maker that he only answered Wally, say a word for me my dear I'm very grateful No, Walter returned Florence with her quiet smile nothing for him, if you please I understand him very well and we must learn to talk together without you, dear Walter the regretful tone in which he said these letter words touched Walter more than all the rest Miss Florence, he replied with an effort to recover the cheerful manner he had preserved while talking with his uncle I know no more than my uncle what to say in acknowledgement of such kindness I am sure but what could I say after all if I had the power of talking for an hour except that it is like you Susan Nipper began upon a new part of her bonnet string and nodded at the skylight in approval of this sentiment expressed Oh, but Walter said Florence there is something that I wish to say to you before you go away and you must call me Florence if you please and not speak like a stranger like a stranger returned Walter No, I couldn't speak so I am sure at least I couldn't feel like one I, but that is not enough and is not what I mean for Walter added Florence bursting into tears he liked you very much and said before he died that he was fond of you and said remember Walter and if you'll be a brother to me Walter now that he is gone and I have none on earth I'll be your sister all my life and think of you like one wherever we may be this is what I wish to say dear Walter but I cannot say it as I would because my heart is full and in its fullness and sweet simplicity she held out both her hands to him Walter taking them stooped down and touched the tearful face that neither shrunk nor turned away nor reddened as he did so but looked up at him with confidence and truth in that one moment every shadow of doubt or agitation passed away from Walter's soul it seemed to him that he responded to her innocent appeal beside the dead child's bed and in the solemn presence he had seen there pledged himself to cherish and protect her very image in his banishment with brotherly regard to garner up her simple faith in violet and hold himself degraded if he breathed upon it any thought that was not in her own breast when she gave it to him Susan Nipper who had bitten both her bonnet strings at once and imparted a great deal of private emotion to the skylight during this transaction now changed the subject by inquiring who took milk and who took sugar and being enlightened on these points poured out the tea they all foregathered socially about the little table and took tea under the young lady's active superintendents and the presence of Florence in the back parlor brightened the totter frigate on the wall half an hour ago Walter for his life would have hardly called her by her name but he could do so now when she entreated him he could think of her being there without a lurking misgiving that would have been better if she had not come he could calmly think how beautiful she was how full of promise what a home some happy man would find in such a heart one day he could reflect upon his own place in that heart with pride and with a brave determination if not to deserve it he still fought that far above him never to deserve it less some fairy influence must surely have hovered round the hands of Susan Nipper when she made the tea engendering the tranquil air that reigned in the back parlor during its discussion some counter influence must surely have hovered round the hands of Uncle Saul's chronometer and moved them faster than the target frigate ever went before the wind be this as it may visitors had a coach in waiting at the quiet corner not far off and the chronometer on being incidentally referred to gave such a positive opinion that it had been waiting a long time that it was impossible to doubt the fact especially when stated on such unimpeachable authority if Uncle Saul had been going to be hanged by his own time he never would have allowed that the chronometer was too fast by the least fraction of a second Florence at parting recapitulated to the old man all that she had said before and bound him to their compact Uncle Saul attended her lovingly to the legs of the wooden midshipman and there resigned her to Walter who was ready to escort her and Susan Nipper to the coach Walter said Florence by the way I have been afraid to ask you before your uncle do you think you will be absent very long indeed said Walter I don't know I fear so Mr. Donby signified as much I thought when he appointed me is it a favor Walter inquired Florence after a moment's hesitation and looking anxiously in his face the appointment returned Walter yes Walter would have given anything to have answered in the affirmative but his face answered before his lips could and Florence was too attentive to it not to understand its reply I'm afraid you have scarcely been a favorite with papa she said timidly there is no reason replied Walter smiling why I should be no reason Walter there was no reason said Walter understanding what she meant there are many people employed in the house between Mr. Donby and a young man like me there's a wide space of separation if I do my duty I do what I ought and do no more than all the rest had Florence any misgivings of which she was hardly conscious any misgivings that had sprung into an indistinct and undefined existence since that recent night when she had gone down to her father's room that Walter's accidental interest in her and early knowledge of her might have involved him in that powerful displeasure and dislike had Walter any such idea or any sudden thought that it was in her mind at that moment neither of them hinted at it neither of them spoke at all for some short time Susan walking on the other side of Walter eyed them both sharply and certainly Miss Nipper's thoughts traveled in that direction and very confidently too you may come back very soon said Florence perhaps Walter I may come back said Walter an old man and find you an old lady but I hope for better things Papa said Florence after a moment will recover from his grief and speak more freely to me one day perhaps and if he should I will tell him how much I wish to see you back again and ask him to recall you for my sake there was a touching modulation in these words about her father that Walter understood too well the coach being close at hand he would have left her without speaking for now he felt what parting was but Florence held his hand when she was seated and then found there was a little packet in her own Walter she said looking full upon him with her affectionate eyes like you I hope for better things I will pray for them and believe that they will arrive I made this little gift for Paul pray take it with my love and do not look at it until you are gone away and now God bless you Walter never forget you are my brother dear he was glad that Susan Nipper came between them or he might have left her with a sorrowful remembrance of him he was glad too that she did not look out of the coach again but waved a little hand to him instead as long as he could see it in spite of her request he could not help opening the packet that night when he went to bed it was a little purse and there was money in it Bright rose the sun next morning from his absence in strange countries and up rose Walter with it to receive the captain who was already at the door having turned out earlier than was necessary in order to get underway while Mrs. McStinger was yet slumbering the captain pretended to be in tip-top spirits and brought a very smoky tongue in one of the pockets of the broad blue coat for breakfast and Walter said to captain when they took their seats at table if your uncle's the man I think him he'll bring out the last bottle of the Madeira on the present occasion no, no Ned return the old man, no that shall be opened when Walter comes home again well said cried the captain, hear him there it lies said Saul Gills down in the little cellar covered with dust and cobwebs there may be dirt and cobwebs over you and me perhaps Ned before it sees the light hear him cried the captain good morality Walter my lad train up a fig tree in the way it should go and when you are old sit under the shade on it overhaul the well said the captain on second thoughts I ain't quite certain where that's to be found but when found make a note of Saul Gills heave ahead again but there or somewhere it shall lie Ned until Wally comes back to claim it says the old man that's all I meant to say and well said too return the captain and if we three don't crack that bottle in company I'll give you two leave to drink my allowance not withstanding the captain's excessive joviality he made but a poor hand at the smoky tongue though he tried very hard when anybody looked at him to appear as if you were eating with a vast appetite he was terribly afraid likewise of being left alone with either uncle or nephew appearing to consider that his only chance of safety as to keeping up appearances was in there being always three together this terror on the part of the captain reduced him to such ingenious evasions as running to the door when Solomon went to put his coat on under pretense of having seen an extraordinary Hackney coach pass and darting out into the road when Walter went upstairs to take leave of the lodgers on a faint of smelling fire in a neighboring chimney these artifices captain Cuddle deemed inscrutable by any uninspired observer Walter was coming down from his parting expedition upstairs and was crossing the shop to go back to the little parlor when he saw a faded face he knew looking in at the door and darted towards it Mr. Parker cried Walter pressing the hand of John Parker the junior pray come in this is kind of you to be here so early to say goodbye to me you knew how glad it would make me to shake hands with you once before going away I cannot say how glad I am to have this opportunity pray come in it is not likely that we may ever meet again Walter return the other gently resisting his invitation and I am glad of this opportunity too I may venture to speak to you and to take you by the hand on the eve of separation I shall not have to resist your frank approaches Walter anymore there was a melancholy in his smile as he said it that showed he had found some company and friendship for his thoughts even in that ah Mr. Parker returned Walter why did you resist them you could have done me nothing but good I am very sure he shook his head if there were any good he said I could do on this earth I would do it Walter for you the sight of you from day to day has been at once happiness and remorse to me but the pleasure has outweighed the pain I know that now by knowing what I lose come in Mr. Parker and make acquaintance with my old uncle urged Walter I have often talked to him about you and he would be glad to tell you all he hears from me I have not said Walter noticing his hesitation and speaking with embarrassment himself I have not told him anything about our last conversation Mr. Parker not even him believe me the gray junior pressed his hand and tears rose in his eyes if I ever make acquaintance with him Walter he returned it will be that I may hear tidings of you rely on my not wronging your forbearance and consideration it would be to wrong it not to tell him all the truth before I sought a word of confidence from him but I have no friend or acquaintance except you and even for your sake I am little likely to make any I wish said Walter you had suffered me to be your friend indeed I always wished it Mr. Parker as you know but never have so much as now when we are going to part it is enough replied the other that you have been the friend of my own breast and that when I have avoided you most my heart inclined the most towards you and was fullest of you Walter goodbye goodbye Mr. Parker heaven be with you sir cried Walter with emotion if said the other retaining his hand while he spoke if when you come back you miss me from my old corner and should hear from anyone where I am lying come and look upon my grave think that I might have been as honest and as happy as you and let me think when I know my time is coming on that someone like my former self may stand there for a moment and remember me with pity and forgiveness Walter goodbye his figure crept like a shadow down the bright sun-lighted street so cheerful yet so solemn in the early summer morning and slowly passed away the relentless chronometer at last announced that Walter must turn his back upon the wooden midshipman and away they went himself his uncle and the captain in a hackney coach to a wharf where they were to take steamboat for some reach down the river the name of which as the captain gave it out was a hopeless mystery to the ears of landsmen arrived at this reach with of the ship had repaired by last night's tide they were boarded by various excited watermen and among others by a dirty cyclops of the captain's acquaintance who with his one eye had made the captain out some mile and a half off and had been exchanging unintelligible roars with him ever since becoming the lawful prize of this personage who was frightfully hoarse and constitutionally in want of shaving they were all three put aboard the sun and air and the sun and air was in a pretty state of confusion with sails lying all bedraggled on the wet decks loose ropes tripping people up men in red shirts running barefoot to and fro casks blockading every foot of space and in the thickest of the fray a black cook in a black caboose up to his eyes in vegetables and blinded with smoke the captain immediately drew Walter into a corner and with great effort that made his face very red pulled up the silver watch which was so big and so tight in his pocket that it came out like a bung Walter said the captain handing it over and shaking him heartily by the hand a parting gift my lad put it back half an hour every morning and about another quarter towards the afternoon and it's a watch that'll do you credit Captain Cuddle I couldn't think of it cried Walter detaining him for he was running away pray take it back I have one already then Walter said the captain suddenly diving into one of his pockets and bringing up the two teaspoons and the sugar tongues with which he had armed himself to meet such an objection take this here trifle a plate instead no no I couldn't indeed cried Walter a thousand thanks don't throw them away Captain Cuddle for the captain was about to jerk them overboard they'll be of much more use to you than me give me your stick I have often thought that I should like to have it there goodbye Captain Cuddle take care of my uncle Uncle Saul God bless you they were over the side in the confusion before Walter caught another glimpse of either and when he ran up to the stern and looked after them he saw his uncle hanging down his head in the boat and Captain Cuddle wrapping him on the back with the great silver watch it must have been very painful and gesticulating hopefully with the teaspoons and sugar tongues catching sight of Walter Captain Cuddle dropped the property into the bottom of the boat with perfect unconcern being evidently oblivious of its existence and pulling off the glazed hat hailed him lustily the glazed hat made quite a show in the sun with its glistening and the captain continued to wave it until he could be seen no longer then the confusion on board which had been rapidly increasing reached its height two or three other boats went away with a cheer the sails shone bright and full above as Walter watched them spread their surface to the favorable breeze the water flew in sparkles from the prow and off upon her voyage went the sun and air as hopefully and trippingly as many another sun and air gone down had started on his way before her day after day old Saul and Captain Cuddle kept her reckoning in the little back parlor and worked out her course with the chart spread before them on the round table at night when old Saul climbed upstairs sewn lonely to the attic where it sometimes blew great guns he looked up at the stars and listened to the wind and kept a longer watch than would have fallen to his lot on board the ship the last bottle of the old Madeira which had its cruising days and had known its dangers of the deep lay silently beneath its dust and cobwebs in the meanwhile undisturbed