 CHAPTER 47 Toad Stools We arranged that our watchman, as my uncle called him, thinking it much more respectable than spy, should hire a room from our friend Mrs. Wilcox, who could help him in many ways. For she knew all the habits of the house of Bullrag, and had useful friends in the kitchen there, and could introduce tongs to a distant view of the adversary's mother and sisters. All this being settled and everybody else in good spirits about it, I fell suddenly into deep dejection, not on account of Sam Henderson's good luck. For that I rejoiced in and would not think of. But simply from dwelling on my own hard fate, and the sympathy aroused by it among all who knew me, for as time went on I was pitied more and more, and our neighbors one and all would make up their minds that there never had been a more unlucky fellow. And especially the women looked at me in such a way, that when I could avoid them without rudeness it seemed to be a comfort to have business round the corner. This began to tell upon me more and more, for as no man can see all the world for himself, but must take his view of it from other people's eyes. So even in his own affairs he finds their color affected by the light or shade that others cast upon them, and labor as I might to think that everyone was wrong, and ought to be compelled to keep his mind to his own business. Yet when I had made all this most certain to myself, a frosty fog and gloom of doubt would settle on my spirits and wrap me in a world of wonder having no straight road in it, and what with one state of mind and another sometimes the pangs of memory and sometimes the stings of fury, and worst of all the heavy ache of listlessness and loneliness upon the whole it seemed less armed to be out of life than in it. How it might have ended I know not, if it had not been for something which I took to be an accident, and of no importance to me than any other meeting, one evening after sunset as the days were drawing in, though the summer was still in its power and beauty, I was taking my usual lonely walk in Love Lane, as the young people called it. There had not been a night, whether fine or wet, from the time of my loss to this moment, that I had failed of this lonely walk, unless I was far from Sunbury. It was some little comfort to end the day in pacing to and fro where last, so far at least as knowledge went, my kitty's footsteps must have been, and now when the sunset tint was gone and the sky could be looked into like clear glass, and the tranquility of summer night and flutter of a leaf might almost seem to be caused by the twinkle of a star, I, the only unquiet creature, according to the laws of man, was treading the same restless round and thinking the same endless thoughts as when the storm of evil fortune had been fresh upon me, wrapped in my own cares alone and breathing only for myself, for absorbing love in small men is but selfishness by deputy, and I, in all but outward form, had been a small man always, ere I applauded without heed of grandeur, goodness, or the will of God. But things are strangely brought about, and anyone not remembering this might laugh to hear how I was enlarged, and for the moment more ennobled than by all the stars of heaven through the sight of a white cotton handkerchief, a man climbed over a gate into the lane, stiffly raising one leg first, and then after a little pause the other, as if his act of days were gone, and probably I should not have seen him for all his clothes were black, unless he carried a white handkerchief. This was conspicuous in the dark of the overhanging foliage, and it seemed to be doubled up by the corners embolging with some bulk inside. What can he have gotten that, thought I, and hastened my steps to see, although was no concern by rites of mine. Good evening, Mr. Kitt. Excuse me, Mr. Orchidson, I mean. This was said in a kind and gentle voice, and I took off my hat, for I saw that it was our parson, the Reverend Peter Golightly, not our vicar, who was absent for the summer, but the curate in charge of our parish. What a calm and beautiful night, he resumed. It takes one out of oneself, almost. It makes our sorrows seem so small. He might have talked like this for an hour without any effect of that sword on me, if he had not finished with a heavy sigh, in spite of all the solace of the scene. Then I knew that he referred to his own grief, which was a dark and bitter one. He had lost his wife just before he came to us, and now it was said that his only child, a graceful girl of about fifteen, was pining away with some mysterious illness, and would take no food. And he, an old man of three score and five, of feeble frame in requiring care, must finish his earthly course alone, poor and forlorn, and with none to love him. I hope Miss Bessie is a little better, I said very softly, for I felt rebuked in my health and strength by a grief like this. No, I fear not. She fancies nothing. As I came back from visiting poor Nanny Page, I saw some fine mushrooms in the footpath field, and it struck me that possibly my child would like them, though they are not very nourishing or wholesome food. But if we could get her to eat anything, and I have a special style of cooking them, but it was nearly dark when I gathered them and I scarcely know the true from the poisonous, I was going to ask Dr. Sipitz, but I fear he would forbid them altogether. You could do me a great favor, if you would, just to look these over for me. This I undertook with the greatest pleasure, and I asked him to come to my cottage for the purpose, where we could procure a light, and I was pleased that he did not in any way attempt to talk goody, as our people call it, nor even refer to my lonely condition. Though I knew by the softness of his manner that it was present to his mind, the Reverend Gentleman had collected his booty in two Catholic spirit, mingling with the true agaric, some very fine horse-mushrooms, and even one or two poisonous toadstools. Having packed all the good ones in a tiny punnet, which looked more enticing than his handkerchief, I carried them for him to his own door, and obtained leave to call on the morrow, and ask whether the young lady had been tempted. My Uncle Corny was one of that vast majority of good Britons, which could never forbear the most obvious joke, even when it is least attractive. The most fastidious people in the world could scarcely call him vulgar, which used to be a favorite word with them, because he could let them call him what they liked and be none the worse for it. They might just as well blame a dog for loving liver, or a cat for believing that heaven is milk, as fall foul of my Uncle Corny because he ate the onions of very common jokes. He liked to make a laugh, and when he failed he perceived that the fault was upon the other side. I thought it a capital thing, he told me, when I was half awake last night, for I never sleep now as I used to do, if you go on like this you'll have to answer to the parish for it. What right have you to change our Parsons' name? I saw by the wag of his nose that he was inditing of some cumbrous joke, and I let him take his time about it. How slow you are! Can't you see, Kit? His proper name is go lightly, and you are making him go heavily. Well, never mind, I can't expect you to see anything just now. I suppose you never mean to laugh again. Certainly not at such stuff as that. What am I doing to disturb him? Why, you are getting into talks together, and heavy proceedings about probations, and trials, and furnaces of affliction, and all that sort of stuff, as I call it, instead of coming to have your pipe with me. There has not been a word of the sort, I answered, wondering how he could be so small. Mr. go lightly leaves all that for the Methodist. He is a churchman. And not only that, but he is a man of true courage, and real faith in God. If he could only give me a hundredth part of what he has, how different I should be. And he never talks about it, but I know that it is in him. Without a single word he has made me thoroughly ashamed of the way I go on. Look at him. The poor old man can scarcely climb a gate, or lift a chair, and who sees his one delight in this world pining and waning to the grave before him? Yet does he ever moan and groan, and turn his back on his fellow-creatures? Not he. He sets his face to work, with a smile that may be sad, but is at any rate a pleasant one. And he gives all his time to help poor people, who are not half so poor as he is. I call him a man, and I call myself a cur. Calm, calm, that's all nonsense, Kit. I'm sure you have borne your trouble well, though you have been crusty now and then. And you can't say that I have not made allowance wonderfully for you. And here you are, ready to throw me over, because this man, whose duty it is, and who is paid for doing it, sets a finer example than I do. I don't call that a Christian thing. Let him come and grow fruit, and have to sell it, and if he keeps his temper then, and bays all his hands on a Saturday night, and sets a better example than I do. I burst out laughing. It was very rude, for my uncle was much in earnest, but I could not help it, and after staring at me with a vacant countenance, he gave three great puffs of tobacco, and smiled as if he was sorry for me. Well, take him another bunch of grapes, he said with true magnanimity. I am glad that the poor maid enjoys them, and they are come down now to fifteen pence. Thus I was taken, without deserving any such consolation, into a higher life than my own, in a very different tone of thought. The bitterness and moody ranker, which had been encroaching on me, yielded to a softer vein of interest and sympathy in sorrows better born than mine. The lesson of patience was before me, told in silence and learned with love, and it went into me all the deeper, because my pores were open. But in spite of all that, I saw no way to sudden magnanimity. It is not sensible to suppose that any man can forego his ways, and jump in a sudden exultation, just because he comes across people of higher views than his. Women seem to compass often these vast enlargements of the heart, but a man is of less spongy fiber if he is fit to marry them. It had been admitted by Tabby Tepscott, even in her crossest moments, that I was a man as any woman could look up to if she chose, and the very best of them must not be asked to do that to a man who is like themselves. And so I continued pretty stiff outside, and resolved to have my rights, which is the only way to get them. Here comes Tony, exclaimed my uncle on the following Saturday night. Time for him to show something for his money. If there is anything I call unfair, it is to pay for a thing before you get it. You will prove to his own satisfaction that he has worked it out, of course. When you were at Ludred, about Sam's wedding, you should have fixed your aunt to something. Your fifty pounds is nearly gone, and she never gave you another penny. I don't see why I should pay for it like this, and the French stuff is in the market already. What's the good of being an Englishman? And what's the good of being an Englishwoman? I answered, for I thought him too unjust, as he had not paid a six pence yet, unless she is allowed to dress sometimes and be told that she is twenty years younger than she is. At Parcelot looked fit to be a bridesmaid quite, and she will come down handsomely when she has paid her bills. She looked at her checkbook and she said as much as that. And let her do it, said my uncle shortly. I suppose this spy fellow will expect his supper. He eat he can, and no mistake. The smaller a man is the more he holds. You had better run down to the butchers. Mr. Tonks might have heard him, but he made no sign, only coming up quietly with his tall hat on, and taking a chair which stood opposite to ours, for the weather being friendly in the summer at its height, we were sitting out of doors beneath the old oak tree. Then he nodded to us, put his hat upon the grass and waited for our questions. Well, Tonks, what have you been up to all this time? You have sent us no letter, so I suppose you have done little? Thus spoke my uncle looking at him rather sternly. I also looked at him very closely, and was surprised to find a certain strength of goodness in his face, which I had not observed when I first saw him. His face was thin and narrow and his cheeks drawn in, and his acolyne nose had had a twist to one side, but the forehead was high and broad and the lips and chin full of vigor and strong resolution. And the quiet gray eyes expressed both keenness and resource. A thing of this kind takes a lot of time," he said, and if you gents are not satisfied you'd better say so. I take no man's money when he thinks it's thrown away. I detoy thee, man, don't be so odd," my uncle replied, showing much more heat himself. We have not said a word. We are waiting for you. I have not done much. It was not to be expected. I have cleared the ground for further work. It depends upon you whether I go on. Yes, to be sure, go on, go on. We give you your head, and we are as patient as Job. I suppose you have found out where the scoundrel is. Yes, and I have found out something more than that. I have struck up an acquaintance with him, and he does not know me, though he ought, for he broke my arm last winter. Though perhaps he never saw my face, but I wore mustaches and whiskers then and a green shade through a little kick from a horse. I know of a gambling club he goes to, and there I meet him every night. I have put him up to a trick or two, and we are to rehearse them at his rooms to-morrow night. He is very close, but I shall gradually worm him. But I must be supplied with cash to do it. We will try to arrange about that," said my uncle, and of course you can return it, and perhaps win some more. Gambling is the thing I detest with all my heart, and no one can ever win by it in the end. If he did, it would do him no good. But still it is right that the rogues who live by it should be robbed. If you pick up a pound or two there, all the better. I think you have done wonders, Tonks, but I suppose you have discovered nothing about? About the lady? Not a single syllable yet, he answered looking at me as he caught my expression. But I believe I shall if I have my time, but what I have done is a great deal better than shadowing the man as they call it. I might do that for months and be no wiser, but I am obliged to be very careful. So many people know me. I can never go near him where the racing people are, and I have had one very narrow shave already. But there is another thing you may be glad to know. O'Ragg is beginning to make up to a rich lady. He is not sweet upon her, but it seems that he must do it. The thief! exclaimed my uncle. We must never allow that. The scamp would break her heart. I am determined to prevent it. I shall let her know my opinion of him. I know all the villainous lot too well. Don't be excited, Tonks. I can't stand that. Give me her name and address, and I shall go with the van myself if necessary. I should think myself a party to it if I did not stop it. She will soon see what I am. I was going to tell you, but now I had better not. Tony Tonks answered with a sly dry smile. What good could you do, Mr. Orchison? The lady would only laugh at you, even if she deigned to see you. Nobody ever laughs at me. And as for daining to see me, why the queen herself would do it the way I should put it? Well, you have a good opinion of yourself. But you must keep quiet in this matter unless you want to spoil my little game. The lady is the Lady Clara Voucher, daughter of the Earl of Clarenhouse, a very great heiress and not bad-looking, but more he can want as a puzzle to me. But it goes against the grain with him. He shall never have her. He may take his oath of that, said my uncle bringing down his hand upon his knee as if he were the father of the peerage. Well, this is a curious affair, thought I. How can he be taken to anybody else after having cast his eyes on Kitty? CHAPTER 48 All these things compelled me to think about them, because they were so different from what might have been expected. When first I lost my wife, and knew that I had been robbed of her, I made up my mind for savage work, and nothing could be too wild for me. The greatest wrong that man can do to man had been done to me, for a stab to the bodily heart is better than the destruction of faith and love. But the care for my dear wife's good name, which would have been blasted if ever it got abroad that she had eloped with the money, as well as many other tender thoughts, had kept me quiet and conduced me to stop from any acts of violence. And this instinct of true love proved quite right, as all will confess who care to know the end of it. Straightened as I was with my own cares, and sometimes buried in them, I could not help trying to lift if it were but the corner of the burden imposed by heaven upon a man a thousand-fold better and more noble. The only excuse I could make to myself for the different way in which he bore his grief was that he was bound to do it as a clergyman, and, being so old, must be getting used to it. But I knew in my heart that this was paltry stuff, and that the true reason of the difference was that he was a large man with faith in God, while I was a little one relying upon self. There was no way before me to cure that, for no man can set up his ladder on a cloud. Still it did me good to know that he had found staple support and was steadfast upon heaven. Mr. Goliely was not only a Christian but a gentleman. Far as I was below his rank in life he never let me feel the difference, either by word or turn of manner, or even by tone of silence. He never inquired into my affairs, though no indifference prevented it, and nothing was further from his mind than the thought that he was doing good to me. Being of a nature which requires something to love I love this man, and never could see anything to laugh at in him, as my Uncle Cornelius made believe to do, I became restless if any day went by without my seeing him, and I could not sleep in my two chairs, however tired I might be, without the remembrance of his Good Night, God Bless You, Kit, which he always gave me in a gentle voice and with a look which itself was a blessing. And now I had been admitted to the acquaintance of his darling, whom he loved as I love Kitty, but with a holier sense and fear. She was lying on a horsehair sofa in his poorly furnished room, for he was poor, as a good man is nearly always somehow. And I never shall forget the look she gave me from her weary eyes, quite as if the depth of kindness were enhanced by its want of power. And she rose up one wasted arm, and offered me a hand just like a white kid-glove that has been drawn off. You have been very good to father, she looked at my sunburnt face as if she would like to remember it somewhere else. And what lovely grapes you bring me! See how greedy I have been! It was as much as I could do to keep my eyes from being like grape stalks, and I tried to drive my sorrow inwards by thinking that all of it was wanted there, but it would not do, and I turned away. What she wants is outdoor air, I said, as soon as we left the room and her father asked me what I thought. And I said it more to hide my own distress than from any hope at all. Outdoor air without exercise, and with very gentle movement. Sims, the flyman, is very good, her father's lips trembled as he spoke, and he tried to make a smile of it. He knows that we cannot afford much carriage hire, and he comes at half price when he has nothing else to do. But since the other spring broke she can hardly bear it. She fainted twice the last time he went. What the river, the water, the Thames! I said almost fearing to make a suggestion so stale. What can be more easy than the gliding of a boat? Is that even too much for her? Best he has never tried it yet, said the anxious father pondering much. When I was at Oxford I loved the river. But I have not found time for it for many years, and I fear it would be cold upon the water. It is much more likely to be too hot. I answered with some wonder at the clear unselfishness of this man who loved the river yet lived upon its banks without ever taking boat for fear of sliding duty. The sun strikes very strong upon the river, but after four o'clock it is delightful. I know a boat that would exactly suit her. She can lie upon the cushions in the stern. The weather is beautifully calm and warm. Will you let me try it? He was loathe consent without leave from Dr. Sippitz, which of course was right enough, but the doctor said it was the very thing he was going to recommend that very day, and as soon as the poor girl heard of it she would scarcely hear of any other thing. We had an old boat of our own, but it was not nice enough for her, so I went as far as Sheperton for the one of which I had spoken to him. This was a very comodious affair, and the name painted on it was the Duchess, obliterating the old name Emmy Moggs, for a genuine Duchess had been in it, while staying for her health at Walton. Phil Moggs was the owner, and he raised his price as soon as he had painted out his good wife's name, and he thought so much of this boat now, though described by rivals as the washing tub, that he always insisted on going with it. However, he was not a bad sort of fellow, though belonging henceforth by his own account to the higher aristocracy. The cheaper men called him the Duke, and he accepted the title without ill will. Regardless of expense I hired boat and him, under private agreement that Mr. Goldightly should pay him half a crown and suppose that all, and we brought the lady in a bath-chair to the bank, and shipped her without any difficulty, and it was worth a lot of money to behold her fair young face delicate with dreams of heaven, taking the flush of the firmer air, and gradually kindling with joys of earth. She looked at every tree we glided past and every fair garden upon either bank, and every feathered bend of hill and hollow as if they were coming to her in a dream, yet so that she could make friends of them. At first her dear father clasped her hand as if she could glide more smoothly so, but soon she became more independent and wanted both hands to point out her delight. Then the tears of kind pleasure came into his eyes, and he turned away and looked at the world for himself and thanked God for this little touch of happiness. While we rest a minute beneath this willow, he said as the sun drew along the stream, and the myriad twinkles of bright air seemed to be dancing to the silver cord of waves. Then we slid into the silence of a cool arcade, and I said, It is high time for mugs to have some beer. Mindful of this prime needed of every British waterman, I had brought a little stone jar for my uncle's tap, and thinking that the savor of this fine beverage might not be agreeable to our fair freight, I landed on the island with a wink to the duke, and he very kindly followed me. The pastor knew well that his flock must be fed, and he extended his knowledge to the neighbouring parish. There was lemonade and strawberries for the weaker vessels, and while they remained afloat and entered into these, mugs and I sat behind a bush and considered what was good for us. I suppose you don't often come, sun-berry-way. I said just to lend a little tongue to tooth-work, for I had bought some bread and a hunk of bacon. Knob's goes mostly up the river, churchy and lay them in the mead and the likes. Mr. Mugs replied with his knife upon the bone. Ain't been your way pretty nigh three months. But you had a nice time, then. Very fine ale at the flower-pot, mugs. Well, so there he. But quite a good nigh at home. And I likes my drop of beer without no water in it. Here's your good health, Mr. What's your name? Thank you, mugs, and the same to you. But I don't understand about water in your beer. Well, did ever you see a young woman cry enough to fill a bucket not alone a boat? I pretty nigh wanted one of them tarprilands. Just lost her daddy, the old man said to me, but he told me not to speak of it, no more I did. But I found out outer words all about it. Seemed she come from Mulsey, though I took her to the other side. From Mulsey? I know a good many of the people there. The only man who died there this summer, to my knowledge, was an old bachelor by the name of Powell. What was this young woman's name? Watson? Uh, Wilson? I won't be certain, which. But never mind, I daresay she's all right by now. The more they take sauna first, the sooner they get shut. But you took her on our side of the river, as you said. Did you go to fetch her? What day was it? What was she like? Who sent you for her? Where did you land her? How came you? Look here, Mr. What's your name? You hires my boat, and you hires me to row. But not to go on about other people's business. But it may be my own business, Philip Moggs. And you may get into desperate trouble by refusing to tell me all you know of it. Not a bit fear to that. The old man answered, I have an old hundreds to get into trouble with too much clackin', but never one the other way. He shut up his mouth and looked like an old villain of a horse I had seen at Sam Henderson's, who had pits above his eyes and ears that stuck back like a gunkock, and a nose that was as wiry as a twisted toasting folk. This was a man who would whistle on his own nails to warm them, but not to warn another man from going down a weir-pool. Well, I said, never mind, I don't suppose it matters, for I was able to master my manners now after three months of endurance. Only somebody has a bit of money upon something and you might cut in for it if you give a hand. But I'll be bound you know nothing about it after all. You fellows who are always on the water dream all sorts of stuff just as I did this afternoon. And, mister, I'll just keep dreaming to myself. I did hear something queer down your way, but least said soon as mended. Time to be shovin' off again. On the homeward row I did my best to drive out of my mind all thought of this ancient mariner and his story, and he feigned not to be thinking of it, though I caught his wrinkled eyelids dropping suddenly at the sudden glances which I cast upon him. He was watching me narrowly when I looked away, and I thought it likely that he would land again when he had discharged us and tried to learn all about me in the village, for we at Sunbury knew but little of the Sheperton people at that time. Looking on it rather as a goose-green sort of place, benighted and rustic and adverse to good manners, Sheperton without equal ground despised us as a set of half-cucknees and trickling for the money of London, which they very nobly condemned because they got so little of it. If anything exciting came to pass at Sunbury, these odd people shrugged their shoulders and talked about Bow Street and Newgate and the like as if they belonged to Middlesex and we to London. However, there can be no doubt which is the finer village. I was much dissatisfied with myself when I came to think of it for allowing as I did this Boatman's story to dwell upon my mind, and even the fair invalid in the stern lost many little due attentions. But happily she fell fast asleep, being sweetly lulled by the soft fine air and the dreamy melody of waters. Her long eyelashes lay flat and the delicate hollows of her clear white cheeks, where a faint tinge of rose began to steal, like the breath of a baby angel. How beautiful she looks! I whispered to her father as he gazed at her, and he answered, Yes, how can I bear it? It is the beauty of a better world. But he was in lively or mood about her when we took her gently home and she rose from the chair with a rally of strength and said, Well, Bessie, how do you feel now? As if I wanted a good tea, she answered, and as if I never could thank this gentleman for the pleasure he has given us. I wondered whether in trying ever so feebly to give pleasure I might have won without earning some great good for myself, and off I went, after proper words, to follow the course of the Duchess. In a minute or two I had gained a spot which commanded the course of the river, and there I perceived that the unmistakable moggs instead of hastening home was resting on his oars to watch the bank and make sure that no one was watching him. I slipped into a quiet niche, which made me think of Kitty, for here I had seen her surveying the flood in the days of my early love for her. It had been a happy place that day. Would it help me once again? Presently moggs made up his mind, if happily it had been wavering, and pulling into the evening shadows sought a convenient landing place. Then he fashioned the Duchess to a stump, and stiffly made his way towards that snug little holstery, the blue anchor, favored by most of our waterside folk. That will do, thought I. He has conquered his contempt of Sunbury. He is going to pick up all he can about me. There must be something in it, and now for the Molesy story. Without delay I returned to our village and threw it hastened to the landing, where our ancient boat was kept. There was no fear of meeting moggs down here, for he was a good half-mile above. Pulling leisurely downstream I began to think how stupid we had been in our inquiries, at least if my present idea proved correct. But the policeman to whom we had entrusted the first part of the search must bear the blame of this stupidity. They had not failed to make inquiry among the boatmen, and along the river, although their attention had been directed chiefly to the roads and railway. But they had assumed throughout that the fugitive must have gone towards London, and as regarded the Thames they had only cared to inquire much downstream. Atop the river there was as yet no railway and no important road, and with their usual density they had searched but very vaguely hear about. At Molesy I had friends who knew every item of what happened there, and they soon convinced me that no young woman weeping for her father's recent loss was likely to have quitted that good village, east or west at the time in question. Therefore Phil moggs had been deceived, whether by his passenger or others, as to that part of a story. I was greatly surprised to find how little the general mind of Molesy seemed to be concerned about my case. Few seemed even to have heard of it, and the few who did know something knew it all amiss, or had put it so by their own imaginations. Indeed I could scarcely have guessed that the story as recounted there had ought to do with my poor humble self. Even Uncle Corny, great in fame at Sunbury and even Hampton, was but a pinch of sand flung from a balloon to these heavy dwellers in Surrey. CHAPTER XIX Does it lighten a man's calamities, or does it increase their burden to know that they are spread abroad and talked of by his fellow men? No man wishes to be famous for his evil fortune, and as for pity he is apt to be alike resentful, whether it is granted or denied. But that is quite another point. Without a bit of selfishness and looking at their own interests only, I certainly had a right to complain that an outrage which must move the heart of every honest husband and thrill the gentler bosom of his faithful wife had scarcely stirred a single pulse at Molesy, just because the river ran between us. None of the papers except one that we subscribed to at an outlay of four and four pence per annum had taken up my case with any fervor, as sometimes they do when there is nothing in it, like a terrier shaking a skull cap. This depends on chance, and all chances hitherto had crossed their legs against me so that I could bring forth no sound counsel. When I told my uncle of my last suspicion and that I could go no further with it because of the stubbornness of Phil Moggs he became so enraged that I saw he was right. What! he exclaimed. That old hunk's dare to refuse any further information? I wonder you did not take him by the neck and hoist him clean over the tail of his duchess. No doubt you would have done it without the young lady. He would never dare to try it on with me. Why, I knew him when he dug lobworms at the hook. He has forgotten me, I dare say. Well, I'll remind him. You shall pull me up there to-morrow morning, one way or the other will crack his eggshell. I could never have believed it of him. It did not concern me to inquire, but as far as I could make out what my uncle meant he was not at all pleased with Mr. Moggs for having got on in the world so well. No man can satisfy his friends in that respect unless he makes so big a jump that he can lift them also, and even so he never does it to their satisfaction. To think of that fellow, my dear uncle grumbled all the way to Sheperton, warning half a dozen boats and calling one of them the duchess. Why, I gave him an old pair of breeches once that you might not be had up for indecency, and now he calls my nephew Mr. What's your name? Do you know who his wife was? Of course you don't. But I do. While she was in the stoke holes at Old Steers, the pineapple grower at Tendington, and no one knew whether she was a boy or a girl with a sack and four holes in it for her arms and legs, but what a lot of money they made then. He sold all his pines at five guineas apiece to George IV, and sometimes he got the money. Ah, there will never be such days again. You must scrimp and scrape and load back from the mews and pay a shilling where they used to pay you to take it. But here we are. Let him try his tricks with me. Unluckily my uncle got no chance of terrifying Mr. Moggs as he intended. We landed at a very pretty slab-faced cottage, covered with vines of Virginia creepers, and my uncle began to shout, Moggs! Fill Moggs! Why, as if he were a Tim's commissioner. But no Moggs answered, nor did anyone appear, till my uncle seized a boat-hook and thundered at the door. Then a very respectable-looking woman with a pleasant face and fine silver hair came and asked who we were and showed us in. She seemed to know my uncle very well, though he was not at all certain about her. Is it possible, ma'am, after all these years—he began in his best manner—that I see the young lady I once had the pleasure of knowing as Miss Drudger, you see the old woman who was once that girl, she answered as she offered him a chair. Ah, those indeed were pleasant days. I thought of the stoke-hole, and could well have believed my uncle had been romancing, if I had ever known him capable of that process, but she very soon reassured me. I worked very hard, then, and I had no worries. But I have known plenty of care since then. I suppose you came to see my husband, sir. Is there any business I can do? He started for his holiday this morning. The doctor has been ordering him change of air, and at last I persuaded him to go. He has gone for a month or so to South Sea. We have a daughter there doing very well indeed. She is married to a large boat-builder. My eldest son, George, seized everything here, now his father has taken him, partner. But I keep the books, and I can take any order just as if Mr. Moggs was at home. It seemed rather strange that she should speak like this, quite as if she expected some inquiry. I looked at my uncle and saw that the same idea was passing through his mind. Thank you, Mrs. Moggs. He said as if he wanted time to think. I fear that we must not trouble you. But you are in the habit of entering orders. All the more important ones we do. At least for the last year or two we have. It was through a curious thing that it happened, and we were nearly getting into trouble. You cannot be expected to show your books to strangers. I wanted to ask one little question. Moggs would have answered it with pleasure, but of course, as he is not at home, that need not make any difference, sir. Everything we do is plain and open. We don't make a practice of showing our books. But if there is any particular entry you wish to inquire about, I shall be glad to help you. That is, if you can tell me the right date. Again we were surprised at her alacrity, but after a few words my uncle mentioned the fifteenth of last May as the date of the occurrence he wished to be informed about. Let us look at the day-book, she answered very promptly. That will show everything we did then. It is in the next room. You shall see it in a minute. While she was gone my uncle leaned both hands upon his stick and looked at me. This is all gammon, Kit," he whispered. Never mind, you watch her. The old lady soon reappeared with the book, which was nothing but a calendar interleaved. You see, I have learned business since you knew me, Mr. Orchidson, she said as she turned back to the date. Moggs is in half such a scholar as I am, but George is a great deal better. Why, he can do decimals and fractions and all that, you don't mind my turning back the edge of the leaf. Our prices, of course, are our own concern. We don't seem to have done much on the day you speak of. Very little indeed. Much less than usual, though the day, if I remember right, was beautifully clear and sunny. There seemed to have been only three boats out, and all of them up the river. Your husband spoke of coming down our way, but I suppose it was some other time, and of fetching a lady who cried all the way. Then it must have been some other day. It could never have been on that day, you may be certain, or here it would be in black and white. But he never remembers when he did a thing, and he often mixes up two years together. A lady who cried. Why, let me see, I did hear something about it. Was she in deep mourning, Mr. Orchidson? Not in deep mourning at all, but a gray summer dress and a short cloak or jacket, or whatever you call it, braided in front and scalloped around the bottom, and a very beautiful face with blue eyes like the color of the sky in settled weather. Oh, but she may have cried them out, so you must not go by that so much. And she had a pretty way of putting up one hand. Shut up! I said, for who could stand all this, and Mrs. Moggs looked at me as if she was so sorry. Oh, then it must be someone different altogether. The young party I heard of was about a year ago, and it did say she was going to her father's funeral, whether that day or the next, I won't be certain. My poor Moggs begins to get queer in the head from being so much on the water, no doubt. He is right about most things, and you may take his word for untold gold, Mr. Orchidson. Such a man of his word never lived, I do believe. Sometimes I say it is unnatural, and he ought to try to break himself. For if every one was like him, where would business be? But without days and months he is wrong more than right, even when he have been to church and heard the Psalms. No? No, sir, we have put you in the wrong boat altogether. It can't have been any of our people. You are sure to know best, said my uncle looking at her in a very peculiar way of his, which was apt to mean, you are a liar. And she seemed to know well what was meant by it. Mrs. Moggs, we are much obliged to you. Remember me to your worthy husband, he laid a little stress on the adjective, as soon as he comes back from South Sea, or rather when you join him there. What station do you find most convenient? Woking, sir. There are others nearer, but that is the first where all trains stop without you go back to Sir Biden. It is a long drive to woking, but they will soon come nearer according to what I hear of it, how they do cut up the country to be sure. They are talking a lot of cross-lines already, but the river is the true line made by the Lord, and ever so much more pleasant. So it is, Mrs. Moggs, and quite fast enough for me, when it isn't frozen over as it was last winter. You must have had a bad time then, but I'm glad to have found you so flourishing. Goodbye, and we are very much obliged to you. Oh, the liar! he cried as we shot out of hearing. Put a beggar on horseback it is the truest saying. Here comes a boat of theirs by the color. Hold hard a moment, kid. I want to ask a question. Easing oars we glided gently past a light boat fitted for double sculling, with only one young fellow in it, perhaps an apprentice. Young man, said my uncle, we want to know the name of your best doctor here in Sheperton. Your governor is an old friend of mine. What's the name of the one he goes to? He? cried the young fellow, balancing his skulls. He never been an old doctor in his life. Don't look as if he wanted one, do he? Oh, I wish I was as tough as the whole bloke is. What do you think of that, kid? Pretty solid, don't you think? What a bushel of lies we have heard from that old Emmy. Jimmy, she was called till she turned out a girl, and then they took the J off. Such things don't happen in these schooling days, and much good they have done with them. That thief of a mox has cut away, you see, through what he heard last night in Sunbury. They'd lynch him there if they knew he had a fist in it. Now one thing is quite clear to me. Your dear kitty was taken in a boat to Sheperton, or somewhere up the river, and mox was paid well for doing it, and to hold his tongue about it afterwards. Most likely he did not bring the Duchess but a lighter and swifter boat, perhaps the one we met. It is useless to ask any of his fellows, you may be sure that he never let them know of it. And it would have been dark by the time he took her. He spoke of an old man, you told me, and he let out what has put us up to this. Could that down he have made himself into an old man? He could make himself in almost anything, but never so completely is to cheat my kitty. It must have been someone he sent, and not himself. He would never have gone with his scoundrel himself. No, she was much too sharp for that. What lies can they have told to make her cry so? Is it that plot I'd ever heard or read of? And not a word from her, all this time. If she had been alive she would have found a way to write, whatever she might believe you had done, she never would have been so cold-blooded to her kit. That is the darkest point of all. I know what women are. Even her stepmother would scarcely have been so relentless. And kitty was a softest of the soft to any one she cared for. I fear that you must make up your mind to the worst that can have happened, my dear boy. I will do nothing of the sort, I answered, though I had often tried to do it. And just when we have hit upon a fresh track, uncle? Nip is in the stable. Can I have him? I shall start for Woking-road this very afternoon. It can do no harm if it does no good, and I never could sit still and let it stop just as it is. Very well. And I will telegraph for Tony Tonks to come down by the time that you return. We are bound to let him know of this last turn of the mystery. To this I agreed, and as soon as we got back I saddled the young horse Nip and rode by way of Walton Bridge to Woking. Feeling as I went I would almost rather know the worst than live on with his horrible suspense. Woking-road station was a very different place from what it is now, and of much less importance. Where a busy town stands now created by the railway and mainly peopled by it, there were in those days but a few sad cottages in an expanse of dark furs and lonely commons, very poor sandy land and black patches where the gorse had been fired, and one public-house, called of course the Railway Hotel, and large sweeps of young fur plantations where its chief features then, and a shabby station looked like a trunk pitched from the line. There were two dirty flies like watchmen's boxes, one with the shafts turned up and the other peopled by a horse who had been down upon his knees and was looking the flies off at his leisure. The driver was sitting on a log in the distance, cutting bread and cheese and sipping something from a tin which appeared to have submitted to the black embrace of bonfires. Perceiving that this was a crusty old fellow, of true British fiber and paid by the day which relieved him from the restless anxiety for work, I approached him as nearly as I could in his own vein. They don't seem to be very busy here just now, but I suppose your old neck can go along when he likes. How must you charge the Sheperton? Shapton? Shapton? Never heard of no such place. Which way do I lie, Governor? Well, you had better ask, I said very craftily as I fancied. Some of your mates will be sure to know. Some of them must have been there before now. They can tell you how far it is. None of them at home this afternoon, lazy rogue answered as he took another mouthful. Better ask Station Master. Like enough he knows. He has nothing to do with you and I want to know what the fare is. Look here, I'll stand you a pint at the bar if you just come up and find out what it is. Some of your mates must have been as far as that to take people for the pike fishing. Sheperton is a great place for that. Very well, come along. But what do you want a cab for when you've got your own horse and a gooden, too? Stick to your own business, I answered gruffly, and that tone seemed to have more charm for him as happens very often with ill-conditioned men. You are on your legs now. Try to keep the moving. Gent wants to know the fare to Sheperton. He shouted through the precincts of bar to the stable yard. Any of you chaps been there lately? Governor gone up to have a snooze. He illustrated that point with a genial wink. Why, Tom been there not so very long ago. Said a little old man who was washing a double-curb under the pump and twisting out the grime with his thumbnails. Or if it wasn't Tom it was Joe. Joe Clipson. So it was. And a long job it were. I had to stop up for him. Thought something must have happened. He were gone such a time. Ah, but perhaps he went with a fishing party. I said as indifferently as I could. When people go fishing they won't be hurried. Come in and have a glass of beer yourself, my friend. Well, no, I never see no rods nor baskets nor nothing of that sort so far as I remember. But he did say something about waiting for a boat. Thank you, sir, thank you. Here's your good health. How long ago was it? And who went with him? My hand began to shake a little, do what I would, for I seemed to be on the track at last when no one was likely to be bribed into lying. Well, I don't know justly for I weren't here when he went and when he come back. He had been to station first, and I were that sleepy that I didn't care to harken. Nor he to gab much for that matter. But I know he said something about a young femmel. And how long ago on, why, let me see, must have been about time for so-and-scarlet runners, for I might my little granddaughter was playing with them, pointing out the speckles, and no too quite alike, a thing as I never took no heed on. And I must have been shelling of them for her mother. What time do you generally so scarlet runners here? Not, I suppose, till all chance of frost is over. Well, sir, gently about third week in May month. There's a lucky day, I know, birthday of saint somebody. Rabbit me if I can tell his name. The chap has took the devil by the nose and made him holler. Plast if I shouldn't like to see that, though, wouldn't you, Bill? What a spree you must have been. I can't remember anything about those saints. Our parson isn't one to insist upon them. The one that did that was called Dunston, I believe. Dunston, does that sound right? Why, that's the very ticket, he exclaimed with a clink of his pewter on the slate slab, made up to look like marble. Bill, you know that's the day for putting scarlet runners in. Was it him who was going in a cab to what you call it? No, no, Bill, you never had no education. They used to teach us better in the times gone by. It was three or four days before his time. Fetch a prayer-book, miss, and then I'll prove it. The young lady in the bar, who had been looking at us queerly, tossed her head as if to say what fools these men are. Then she swept the money out of reach, and disappeared. Presently she came back with an ancient prayer-book, and my old friend, after spitting on his fingers, turned over the leaves of the calendar and shouted, It is! I could have sworn to it from Sunday school, May 19, St. Dunston's Day. He put his thumb up on the place and made a long abiding mark, and never shall forget again St. Dunston's Day. Those board schools never teach such useful things as that. In a grammar school we only kept the best of the apostles. Where is Joe Clipson to be found? I asked. Surely he could tell us all about it. I would give a sovereign to know who came in his cab that night from Shepardon. All who gathered for that great discussion looked at me with astonishment and fear, and I saw that I had made a wrong move altogether. For nothing shuts up country mouths so sharply as the hovering in the air of a thing that may prove criminal. At the same time I saw that deep interest was stirred, and I fancied very naturally that it must be in my favor. Can't say when Joe will be at home, said my old friend. He have gone to Nap Hill with a gent to see the trees. When they get some mung they never come back in a hurry. Might be nine o'clock before he comes home. I looked at my watch and saw that I must start at once if I meant to be at home in time to meet Tony Tonks. And it struck me that he would be much more capable of going through with the inquiries here than I, who had already made a muddle of it, by putting questions two-point-blank. So I tried to put on a careless manner. Well, we won't say any more about it now. Only I should like to know what fish they caught or whether they weighed in at the club with what they bought. If we think it worth while to go on with this, we can send a boy over to hear Joe's account. It doesn't concern any one except ourselves. But we don't like to be beaten by the silver hook. There is a rare fish at Sheperton that nobody can catch. They looked at me as if they could not quite accept this turn, and there was much disappointment on the barmaid's face for, with a woman's instinct, she had sent it a romance. Both out another word I jumped into the saddle and was soon upon the fursy commons, full of prickly wonderings. And of Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Of Kit and Kitty by Richard Dodgeridge Blackmore This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 50 A Pocket Full of Money We're on the straight road now, said Tonks as soon as he heard my story, and jigger me if we don't hunt her down. But look and give five stone to skill, whether the course be straight or round. I have done all I know, but you beat me in a canter just by getting the inside turn. But unless I'm out of it all together, you may trust me to fetch up by and by. I must find out who that old chap was. It could not be Downey himself, you think. Not likely that she would have gone with him. Well, now you want to hear what I have done, and I think it leads to something. I'm bound to be terrible leery, you see, for he is uncommon wide awake. If he had spent all his life in the sharpest stables he could hardly have been more up to snuff. He never believes a single word a fellow says until he has been rounded to know the reason. I cannot abide that sort of thing myself, for I give such a lot of trouble on both sides. If he'd ask you what o'clock it was, and you looked at your watch and told him, he'd place no faith in it unless he saw the hands, and even then he would doubt whether you had not shifted them on purpose to mislead him. Such a rogue should be knocked on the head, said my uncle, and I wish I had that doing of it. It makes everybody hate him, although his matter is not rough. He never seems to think it worth his while to take offence at people. But they would rather have that than what he does. Old Potts is popular compared to him, because Potts hates his enemies. But this man goes on as if they were not worth hating, and that has made me doubt sometimes why he has done this, and sometimes whether he has done it at all. If he has not done it he can only be the devil. My uncle broke in with some anger. I am not superstitious, but the devil might be vexed by Professor Farathorn's kick-me-jigs and run off with his daughter just to dig him in the ribs. But, George, I never thought of that before. And I hope you won't think of it again, I said in great haste that the idea might not go into his mind, for it would be hard work to get it out again. I should hope you know better, Uncle Corny, would the devil think of paying such a price as Phil Moggs gets and hire a four-wheeler to Woking Road Station? You're right, Kit. You will have full value for his money, and he never could have stood the smoke I made. He gets too much of that at home. But Potts says now he doubts if Bullrag did it. What are we coming to? Are we all to start again as if we had never spent two pence over it? Potts has been with him a deal too much. When two fellows get together so, they can't smell one another. I judge just the same as if I never saw him. He isn't one to get over a fellow with his looks or his manner, either. Mr. Orchidson, you're quite wrong there. I go by observation and nothing else. And what has come of your observations? My uncle still despised Mr. Tonks, and he hated to be told that he was wrong, especially when he heard it. A good deal, said Tonks, leaning back in his chair and collecting his ideas. A good deal if you place confidence in me, without which I act for nobody. I don't pretend to be any wonder, but when I take a man's money I am true to him. I have plenty of other jobs I can take too. Throw me over if you choose and have done it. Now, Tony, Tonks, we will not do that. I believe you are doing all you know, and I am a reasonable man. Now, tell us all that you have to tell. Well, there isn't very much. But it may come to something more, especially with what you have just found out. The worst of it is that he is getting shy of me, and I dare not say things as I did. I told him that I wanted to run down to take stock of Henderson's place down here, and I asked him if he knew the neighborhood and whether we should take a trap and run down together. If I could get him to do that I might pick up a lot of things in a careless and casual way, you know. But he is much too fly for any game of that sort. And it almost seemed to me as if he smelled a rat. Then I got on to him about the scientific codgers, thinking to lead up to the old professor and the crews he's going on about the bottom of the sea and the place for laying cables and a lot of things like that. But I wouldn't serve, and so I tried another lay. We were talking of old pots, and I said, oh, by the by, was it true that the old fool was sweet upon some girl, some girl with a lot of money who pitched him over? And he said, what a joke! I would like to hear of that. Tell us the story, Bowles, if you know it. Bowles is a name he knows me by, you see, or would not do for me to turn up as stonks. In fact, I got no hold upon him as I thought I should have done, for he knows how to make people useful and no more. I saw that he would drop me as soon as he had learned all the little useful things I know at cards and pool. Of course, I was not swell enough for him to introduce me to his family circle, as the ladies call it. And as for getting him to take a drop too much and then working him skillfully, as can be done with most fellows, well, I'm pretty tough, but if I took the water and he the brandy, I believe I should be drunk before he was, and his head is too big for any barrel to upset it. I was pretty near despairing, I can tell you, Mr. Orchardson, though I never have been beaten yet, and I don't want to begin it. When a little bit of accident, the nearest casual accident put me further forward than a month of work might do. You may be pretty sure, without my saying, that my appearance is not distinguished enough, although I have gone arm in arm with bigger knobs than he is, and real gentlemen, some of them, but not swell enough to be seen in Downey Bull Rags Company in Piccadilly or the park, or high in mighty places. No, no, not for Joe, as the poet quotes it, but he is not at all above allowing me the honour of his society when I can be of service to him, and no one is likely to say, who's that? And there is one particular house of his, never mind where, it has nothing to do with it, at which he always likes to have me and treats me quite as his honoured friend. And there we were on Monday night tickling the pigeons, as you might say, which is only what they expect of us. He can beat me now in my own inventions, not from any superior skill, but because he is the coolest hand ever seen, and nothing puts him out of tune. He had won all along the board that night, and his pockets were full of money. But instead of being up as a decent fellow would be, he took all his luck in a cold-blooded way, just as if it were nothing to what he deserved. That is never the right way to get any more. You must never do that, Mr. Orchardson. Sir, I never gamble, and I want no lesson, my uncle spoke severely. He thought it due to me to do so. It is too late in life for you to begin. Tongues proceeded affably, and your hands are too hard, Mr. Orchardson. But as I was saying, he came down the stairs and slipped out very quietly. There's one of those little streets off Soho, where a man who knows London like the lines of his own hand may lose himself in half a minute by one wrong turning. The night was very dark, and all the public shot up long ago, and not a light was to be seen except a dull lamp here and there. But we were quite used to this sort of thing, and felt no sort of fear, though we knew that we were passing through a den of robbers, and a man who has a lot of money in his pockets is inclined to fancy somehow that every stranger knows it. Suddenly as we went by a narrow-reaking archway a fellow sprang out of it immediately behind us. Before I could turn I heard a crash, and there he lay, sent backward by a heavy blow from Bullragh's fist. I thought that he was killed, for the blow had been tremendous, such as I have seen when they meant business in the prize ring. But luckily for him the fellow wore a hard-rimmed hat, which lay behind him doubled up while he rolled over, gasping. Not much got out of that. Said Downey, looking at his knuckles, the sooner we slope the better, Bulls, or there will be a rumpus. We can't go before we see whether you have killed him. You hit him hard enough to kill an ox, I answered. Killed myself more likely. Just look at my hand. A fellow can't be hurt much. What had he on his hat front? Don't pick him up. He'll be better where he is. But seeing no one up or down the street I disobeyed him, and drew the stunned man into the shadow of the archway, and set him with his hat against the bricks while Bullrag showed much more concern about his hat. Here it is, a metal thing. I shall keep it. Put his head on again, Bulls, and let him meditate. We don't want to cut a shine at Bow Street. Let's be off. I was rising to go, for I hate the police-courts, and the man was evidently coming round, and could do very well without us. But before we could leave him he stretched out his hand and said, Captain, Captain, for God's sake, stop a minute. I've got something for you most important. I didn't go to rob you, but to tell you something. You may be sure that I was pretty wide awake at this, but of course I took care not to show it. And I saw by a shadow on the line of the wall Bullrag had raised one hand probably to his lips. Right, said the man who is on his legs now, but cycled away into a darker place. Let the other gent go. I was to tell you by yourself. I dare not come to your place, but you must come to mine. Out with it I never keep any secrets. Bullrag replied, just to humbug me. Unless it concerns other people, and then, well, perhaps, Bulls, you wouldn't mind going to your den? Stop. Let me speak to you a moment outside. He took me away while the man stopped there, and I saw that his object was to prevent me from finding out any more about that fellow. I was forced to let him have his way that far, and to play a waiting game with him. Some boss or other, he whispered roughly. I think I know who the fellow is, and all about it. A gamekeeper's daughter down in Hampshire, always wanting money. Stop. You may as well take most of this, for fear of my being too soft-hearted. There, leave me five. That's as much as I can spare. Good night, very much obliged. See you tomorrow. You had better mind what you're about, I said. He owes you a grudge, and you are in a slummy part, you know. I'll come with you, if you like, and wait outside. You had better not wait at all. I am apt to mistake people, as you have seen already. This was a threat, and as such I took it, walking off with a dignity which must have vexed him. However, as soon as I was round the corner I slipped a pair of rubber socks that I always carry with me over my boots and put myself on duty in other ways, so that if he met me in the shadow or even ten yards from a lamp he would have little chance of knowing me. And in less than two minutes I was back again, not in the archway, of course, but at a place from which I could make out part of what was going on there, for I knew that there was something up quite out of the common way with him. Now, how did I know that? Can either of you tell me? Of course, by knocking that fellow down, my uncle replied sagaciously. That was about a bi-play, I suppose. Not it. That was all done, bone-fiddles, as we say. I knew it by the pile of cash he gave me to hold for him. Oh, he is a deep file, and all there at any moment. He had clearly formed a low opinion of your humble servant, and thought that I should bolt with all the Rhino and be seen no more. And it could be no trifle that made him risk the sum of five and forty pounds. Forty-five pounds, I exclaimed. How strange! Why, that is a very sum! Here I stop, for I do not wish to go into that question with him. Yes, forty-five pounds, when I came to count it. I couldn't tell how much it was at the moment, but I felt that it was a tidy lump of cash. And I jumped at his motive and handing it to me. But he reckoned all together without his host there. While when I came back there they were, still at it. I could not hear a word of what they said, for I was forced to keep my distance. But I guessed that the skunk would take him somewhere for what he had said beforehand. And then my wits would come into play. And sure enough he did, for in about two minutes they both came out and looked up and down the street to make sure that they were not followed. Seeing no one they set off in a good quick step. And it took the right style to be after them. They turned so many corners and went through so many alleys that no other man in the world could have kept them in sight, as I did, without blundering on them. He passed through many places I knew nothing of. But at last I stowed them in a quiet little den. Not very far from Drury Lane. Here the fellow went down a steep narrow staircase and knocked at a door that was like a cellar flap. Down he stopped outside which I thought was very wise of him while the other went in and for some time disappeared. But down he came back to the entrance for fresh air, perhaps to be certain that he was not watched. And I gave myself up for lost, but most luckily an empty truck or barrel stood against the wall and I just slipped under it in time. I could have touched him with my hand but the place was very dark and he went back without twigging me. I have had many narrow shaves but none to beat that. He would have killed me with a blow. And in a hole like that I should have been under the flagstones. I had no time to be in a funk till it was over. But then I began to shiver horribly and my nerves were not fit to be trusted any more. I knew this, and thinking of it made them worse, for I have a wife and seven children to look after. All I cared for now was to get away, for I had run the chap to earth and could put my hand upon him. There was no chance of overhearing any of their talk even if they had any, and if they once discovered me even though I might escape there would be no chance of learning more. I could find the hole again for I had seen coke-yard dobbed with a tar-brush on a patch of white wash, and wherever I have once been I can always go again, so when bull-rag turned back towards the door I made ready to slip round the corner. Before I could do so I heard the door creak and the fellow with the broken hat came out again. I heard him say, Now you'll believe me, Captain. I'd be glad of a price of a new hat before you go. What it was he gave to Downie I could hardly see, but it looked like a packet of papers or letters or something done up in paper. Downie gave him something and he said, That all? Ain't much for such news. And then Downie gave him more. Daren't come to your place, you come here, he says. If you want any more, say next Saturday night, ask for migwell bengus and say, Cluck. That was the name so far as I could catch it, but I was bound to be off or bull-rag was coming, and you may depend upon it that I did not stop to chat with him. CHAPTER XVI We were all pretty sure that this discovery of Tony's concerned us deeply and might lead to something if followed up at once with luck and skill. But we thought it more important that we should go first a walking road and inquire further into the story of Joe Clipson's cab, which he was sure to do much better than myself for he could make himself look like a brother-cab man without any trouble. He had little more to tell us about the coke-yard yet, for he had to feel his way very tenderly there and must wait for opportunities. And bull-rag, who is never very sweet of temper, though unlike his mother he could curb himself, had been more like a bear than a cultivated Christian, since he got that cut across his knuckles. As our sympathies were not with the sufferer Tony made us laugh by his description of the want of resignation in a case so trifling. Here it is! cried bull-rag after hopping around the room as soon as his poultice began to draw. Look at this scurvy saint! He is made of copper. Why the devil couldn't he have a saint made of gold? Tonks replied that perhaps the individual with the hat could not afford a golden saint to sit upon the brim, and the copper perhaps had done him a much better turn than the gold, both saving his head from the crushing blow and avenging it on the smiter, for the wound looked very angry and it might be even dangerous. But what made him wear such a saint at all? How the deuce can I tell why they wear such rubbish? Bull-rag answered crustily. Those foreign sailors are such fools. You know more about him than I do. This is by no means true as yet, though Tonks hoped to make it so, if allowed his own time about it, and he told us quite earnestly, as I believe sincerely, that he had never felt, not his mind alone, but his heart, more deeply engaged in solving the merits of the darkest horse and allurious stable, than they both were now in getting to the very bottom of this affair about my kitty, and though I did not altogether like his way of putting it, when the meaning was good we must not quarrel with the manner in which other people look at things. So we treated him well and put him up for the night, and the following morning I drove him by way of Waybridge to Woking Road Station, or as near there, too, we could get without any one observing us. Then I went back to Waybridge, so as to meet him at that station and hear all he had to say before he took another train for London. Nothing could have been better managed. I borrowed a badge from Sims the Flyman and spotted a yellow neckerchief and a broken whip and Tony lounged into the innyard, as if he had left his cab down at the blacksmith's by the bridge. As I saw him in the distance I said to myself that nature must have meant him for the driver of a cab, for he put his knee out and turned his heels in and carried his elbows as if he had been born, so. Any brotherhood of goodwill and lofty feelings, such as that of cab man essentially is, must welcome him at once and make him free of any knowledge it possess that would bring in nothing. And so it proved when he rejoined me by the two o'clock train at Waybridge. What have you ordered? he asked, and I replied, Chumpchops, New Potatoes, and Pickled Onions. Couldn't be better. He was good enough to say, but have in the pewter first. Blessed if I believe there's anything to parse a throat like a jolly good lie, and if I've told one I've told fifty, dinner first, business afterwards, that I should consent to this will show how thoroughly I had been drilled by long endurance and fretful discipline, perpetual disappointment too in the habit which hope had now acquired of falling without a blow, just like an overmatched prize-fighter, as well as a sense of evil fortune drove me sometimes almost to the apathy of the fatalist. And so I let Tony Tonks munch on and even joined him in that process. I wish I had got to do that again, he said, as at last he laid down his knife and fork. I don't often do so well as that. The air of these commons is uncommon sharp, sharper even than the heath is. But you have been very patient and I won't keep you any longer. I found out all they knew back there, and it only cost a shilling. I don't know that it is worth much more. For it carries us very little further, but so far as it goes it is plain enough. I have it from Joe Clipson, the man who drove them, and no secret was made of the affair to him. Now the story, as he had it, comes to this. Someone got out at Woking Road Station on the afternoon of May 15th. It might have been an up or it might have been a downtrain. Clipson could not say, for two trains came in together and the man had no luggage of any sort. The date could be fixed by several things and there could not be any doubt about it, and the time when two trains meet there in the afternoon is four fifteen, which comes pretty close to our figures. This man carried nothing but a little bag, a little black leather bag such as nine people out of ten half. There were three cabs or flies as they called them there, waiting in the station-yard, for it is their busiest time of the day, and he chose Clipson's because the horse looked freshest, and told him to drive to Sheperton without saying a word about the fare. Clipson had not been in that part long and he had scarcely heard of Sheperton, which is severed from all those surrey places by the unbridged river. But it seemed to him a pleasant thing to start without any fettering as to money, and the man who engaged him seemed very free of that, in a style that said, never stand out for a shilling, and he seems to have acted up to this, although was scarcely ever done, except with a true friend's money. But Clipson did not care whose it was, if he might be allowed to go home with it. The day was very bright and pleasant, exactly as I remembered it, with plenty of light in the air, but no heat and no flies to make horses grieve they cannot swear. Clipson remembered how cold it grew, even before the sun went down and he tucked a sack under his cabs as he came home, because he had promised Mrs. Clipson so, and his word was more tender in absence. He said that his fare seemed to know a good bit about the principles of the road, that was a word he used for it, as if he had learned it from a map or a description which somebody had rubbed into him. But he was not in any way up to the corners, which show, as Joe said, and with some reason too, whether man understands what he is at properly. But he knew where he was at Chertsey Bridge, and he waved his hand at the first turn to the right. Being a surrey man from some outlandish part in that straggling country, Clipson was not at all comfortable upon our side of the river. To a certain extent, and with much better reason, I feel the same thing as regards them, though I admit, without thinking twice about it, that there are plenty of good people there, and especially my Aunt Parslow. But Clipson, although he depended for his livelihood upon a railway station, did not like going into unknown places, especially with a horse who might come down and stop there, for there was only one sound knee out of sixteen that were washed in the yard every Saturday, and that one belonged to Clipson. His horse was a clipper by his own account, and nobody could tell how good he was, because he had never been called upon to do his best. Still it was a tough journey for him, and Mr. Clipson could not see taking the state of the roads into account, and the distance, and the waiting, how he could charge less than five and twenty shillings, and if asked to go again he would not do it for the money. For he waited four hours as he vowed, and I dare say it may have been three, at the public house which is a sharp pull from the house of Phil Moggs at the water-side, for these details I did not care so much, although they were full of interest, as I cared to know who the man was that employed him, and how he behaved and whether he looked good, and above all how my darling Kitty seemed to take things in what she said, and whether she was weeping all the way about myself, the cab men had paid no attention at all to this part of the question and could give no more account of Kitty than if she had been a portmanteau or inside one. Tony Tonks had never asked, as a man of kind nature would have done, whether my dear had a handkerchief in her hand, or whether she seemed to gulp down a sob or how she looked up at the evening star, or even what the condition of her eyes was. For him it was quite enough to learn that the young woman looked down in the mouth like, while that is the way the world goes on. About that I cared to make no fuss, for it even seemed a pleasure to me that none but myself should know of these things, remembering as I did that no one ever could cry as my Kitty could, for I never could understand how it was, that having so very little practice as she had in spite of many opportunities she could yet make anybody feel as if all the world was woe, the moment there appeared a gleam of trouble in her soft eyes. I am tolerably hard, and Uncle Corny harder still, from having lived so much longer, but either of us would have rather have had a sixty-four pound box of strawberries drop from the tail of the van upon the tender places of both feet than let a single word fall from us, even in the hottest moment, to bring a cloud into those tender eyes. However, all people are not like us, and perhaps she never let that cabman see what was the matter with her, for she was proud as well as gentle. Moreover, the man was hungry, and that makes a world of difference. The kindest man that was ever born cannot be expected fairly to feel for his fellow creatures when he is yearning after animals. The heart being full of beef and mutton, because there are none in the stomach, how can any room be left for creatures of less relish? This explanation may be unsound, but at any rate the cabman did not melt to Kitty's weeping. And now two questions of prime importance rose in following out this tail. It was evident from two accounts, both that of moggs, the boatmen, and of clips in the cab driver, that no kind of compulsion had been used to make Kitty go with them. It was plain that she went of her own accord, deeply grieved, as a boatman's story showed, but resigned and patient. In the first place, then, who was the man that had done all this to fetch her? And again, when they got the woking-station, withered to their journey thence. As to the first point, Tony Tonks had found out little more than I did. The cabman said that he believed he would know the gent again if he saw him, but there was nothing very particular about him to notice. He seemed to be elderly, and rather short, but very sharp and active. His clothes were dark, and he wore a short cloak, not much longer than a policeman's cape. He did not sit at the young lady's side, but on the front seat opposite to her. And he did not seem to be talking to her much. It was quite dark when they left Sheperton. And it must have been ten o'clock when they arrived, or later, for the horse was a little lame from standing still so long. They did not seem to be any hurry, as they had no luggage except a couple of light bags. He did not follow them on to the platform, and could not pretend to say which way they went. For there were three more downtrains after that, and four, or it might be five, to London. As to that, Tonks made vain inquiries of the station-porters and booking-clerks. It was so long ago by this time that even those who might have noticed them had forgotten. They had passed into the station that was very well established, but after that nothing at all could be discovered, and there the clue broke hopelessly. After hearing all these things, there became sadly downcast. They reminded me of that dreadful night when the snow-drifts overwhelmed me. I seemed re-walking in the same sort of maze, continually struggling to get forward and perpetually driven back, seeming to walk with all my might, yet by a stronger power to stand still. And losing all confidence in myself I asked Tony Tonks what he thought of it, just as if he had been the great oracle that smelled the turtle soup of Crocius without even longing for a taste of it. It all turns out just according to my views, replied Tonks as if he saw his views running like the gravy which he had been saving up to drink out of the spoon. The same as I have expressed all along and find them confer more by all I discover. Anyone who puts two and two together could swear that Downey Bolrag is at the bottom of the mischief, though he has taken uncommonly good care not to show his nose in it. I am rather inclined to think that the lady is on the continent. They are more likely to have gone down the line than up. If they had meant to go to town, what should have taken them to walking? Supposing they were shy of the Windsor line, Sir Bitten would have been their place or waybridge, though of course they might have thought walking roads safer, so that we must not reason too much by that. By the way, can the lady speak French at all? It might make a difference to her. I am not at all sure, I replied after thinking, for we never happened to talk of that. She was at a good school for a little time, and then that hateful woman, her stepmother, took her away when she was doing well, and sent her to a bretched place at twenty pounds a year. She can read French, I know, because I asked her something, but I doubt whether she can speak it. Then that's where she is. I begin to smell a rat. He took her from Southampton, depend upon it, and now I twig some bit of meaning in that copper saint. The south of France, that's where she is. But why in the south of France, more than any other part? I thought that he was jumping rather fast to his conclusions. Well, that might be Italy, or Spain, he answered with a fine generosity. I cannot say much about it. But a brother of mine was at sea till he was drowned, and he traded a good deal from the south of France, and he had one of those things in his hat because of being struck by lightning. They get it very bad in those waters, he declared, but I can't call to mine the name of the saint that stops it. Of course I have no faith in such stuff, though there might be nothing to laugh at, after all I have seen about horses. But there it is, they stick those things up as an officer's coachman mounts a cockade. And bad luck it was for Master Downey's knuckles. His hand looks like a peas pudding yesterday. His flesh is always of a yellow nature, like a chochin china's. Shouldn't wonder a bit if you got locked, Joe. Not till I have settled with him. It made me forget the Reverend Peter and all his style of regarding things, when people spoke as if right and wrong had an equal claim upon the Lord in heaven. End of Chapter 51 Chapter 52 of Kit and Kitty by Richard Doddridge Blackmore. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 52 A Wandering Gleam My uncle, however, was not like that. He had suffered too largely from rogues himself in the neighborhood of Covent Garden to have any calm way of considering them. Either a man is honest through and through, or else he is a thief all over. It is humbug to talk as if a fellow didn't know when he is stealing or when he is not. He knows it pretty sharp when it is done to him, and he puts it short as he has the right to do. And then he turns the corner and wipes his mouth and serves others with the dose that made him sputter. To cheat the man that cheated you is Christian enough, but not to pass it on to other people. Go ask Mr. Goldightly what he thinks about it. That pious clergyman would scarcely have been satisfied even with my uncle's view of Christian conduct, although he was moderate in his expectations of us after all his experience of our doings. This made a very pleasant to be with him frequently, and for my part I am certain that I never could have lasted through all this gloom and suspense and indignation without his example and quiet comfort. All that we had found out at Sheperton and at walking I owed to him, or at any rate to my acquaintance with him, and although it might not seem as yet to carry me much further, I still found some happiness in knowing that little, and hope of learning more from it. And now I went to him about another question which I could not settle for myself. It may be remembered that Tabby Tapscott, who came to attend to my uncle's house, had more than once given me good advice, and some may have set me down as ungrateful for keeping her out of sight since my great disaster, as if she were of no importance. But the real truth is that I had sought her counsel almost every time I saw her, and had found much comfort from it because she was so scornful, for the little woman tossed her head and shot forth her underlip, as if she could not trust herself to speak so thoroughly was her mind made up. She looked upon all that it happened as the fruits of a foul conspiracy on the part of man against woman, and she scarcely held me guiltless, and she had no patience with me because I would not do the proper thing to find out all about it. Until I did that she would say no more, but leave me to listen to a set of zanies, why on earth I refused as more than she could understand, and she went so far as to declare once or twice that I could not be in earnest about getting Kitty back, or would have done it long ago. She herself had known a girl of West down Parish in the north of Devon, who found out all about her sweetheart's murder, and got two men hanged for committing it. The means were certainly simple enough if anything would come of them. The bereaved one must let the full moon pass for as short a time as possible, and then at twelve of the midday go to the dress last worn by the lost one, and take something from the left side pocket, or failing that cut a piece out. Then he might carry on as he pleased until it came to bed time, and then to do as follows. Under the pillow on his left hand side he must place whatever he had taken from the dress, and then, instead of his common prayers, pray in the following manner. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, bring me back my love that's gone. Bring her white or bring her red, according as she is live or dead. Then he must throw the window up or out if it was a lattice, and look at the moon which would then be up, for he was supposed to keep good hours as all gentle lovers should, and after that he must lie down with his left ear on the pillow and repeat the doxology, which Tabby called the doxy, until it made him go to sleep. Then as sure as he was a living man, or in the other case a living woman, the lost one would appear at midnight and tell him all about it. Only he or she must ask no questions, and above all offer no contradiction. Now I have never been superstitious, though some of the wisest men I have met with seem at times to be so, and I laughed at all the stuff of Tabby's, although I had found her truthful. Then I asked her to go through it all for me, but she stared at my stupidity, as if her would come nigh for me, she said. It is the love as does it, and the angels to the back of it. But when she kept on so about it and assured me that much wiser people than I, and a long sight better, as she was good enough to say, had tried this plan and been set up by it, I began to think that it could do no harm, and if it afforded her any pleasure why no one else need hear of it, except that the sin of witchcraft is most strongly denounced in the Bible, and many might think that this proceeding savored of that character. However, if the Church of England could be brought to sanction it, the powers of the air might do their worst, for our Church is built upon a rock. The Reverend Peter Golightly said, when I opened out this case to him, that he was a little surprised if I am listening to such nonsense. I told him that it was very far from my desire to do so, but if it was likely to ease the minds of others, it might be my duty to go on with it. At this he laughed, and did not say but seem perhaps to mean it, that I was not bound to make a fool of myself because my brother fools wished it. However, I was not going to be argued down about it, and I put the question point-blank to him whether there was any sin in it. You could not say that there was any, but being more on his metal now, declared that it was rank folly, and insisted very strongly on his superiority of prayer. There I had him on the nail. For what was this but a mode of prayer, invoking also those holy writers, who alone have taught us the use of prayer? He shook his head as if unconvinced, but his daughter called him away just then, and I did not care to renew the subject, feeling that now I had his permission which he might recall if argued with. The moon was full at six o'clock in the morning, as Uncle Corny said, and he always knew everything about her, except the weather she would bring, and at noon I went to my dear wife's frock, the one that she had worn on the very day before she disappeared from me. She had kept them on a row of hooks, for we were not rich in wardrobes, with a scarf or something drawn along to keep the dust from settling. It had been one of my soreest jobs to unhang them very reverently, remembering when she had worn them last, and how my arm had been round them. For she had a very pretty way of coming up in the morning, when her hair was done in her collar on, for me to tell her how she looked, and to see that all her strings were right, but now these empty dresses lay all folded and locked in the bottom drawer. I may be soft beyond most people, although it is a fault more shared than shown, but when I had spread that simple frock upon the bed, which I never entered now, and passing both hands down the bosom, clumsily searched, as a man must do, for the mouth of that little pocket, and then could only get three fingers in, all the strength of my resolve to be quite firm and manly quivered on my lips, and melted in the haze that crept across my eyes. A tiny notebook with a pencil and a silver thimble, a little housewife and a button meant to be sewn on my coat, two or three jujubes, which she kept to pop into my mouth because she fancied I was hoarse sometimes. Nothing for herself, but all for me, or for my service. And then a little scrap of paper, my last scribble from the garden. Darling, not till nine o'clock, as I took them one by one all seem fragrant with her sweetness, and holy from her loving hand. I could not bring myself to go through Tabby's rigmarole that night, for my mind was full of larger thoughts, neither what I go upstairs into the lonely bedroom, but I gaze for some time at the moon as people when in sorrow do by some mysterious instinct. And then I place the pillow instead of the roll of mat beneath my head, and under it my dear wife's housewife, and her pretty thimble, not for that night only, but as my companions henceforth, and therewith I cast myself on the hard church cushion, and thought of her. Before very long I fell asleep, having done a good day's garden work at sundry jobs that were sadly in a rear. But Tabby's jingle was still in my head, moving my will or wish, as a mouse comes in the wanescoat, and with the moon shining into the room one of my last reflections was that I had been very lucky in yielding to no witchcraft. Not that there would be anything to frighten me in my darling, whether white, or whether red, by which the old chant seemed to mean, whether she might be in the bloom of health or in the wan hue of the winding-sheet. In either case she would love me still, and that was the thing I cared most to know. Suddenly I sat up and looked, the old church clock was striking slowly, and the sleepy sound lighted on the drowsy air. The moon was gliding calmly on her southern road, and being in her humble summer state she could scarcely top the big pear-tree which stood before my window. The room was full of light and shade and bars and patches and in triangles with no strong contrast in and out but fused, like silver wire netting or water parted by the were-posts, and rejoining under them. In there, in this faint flow of light and wavering ebb of shadow, I saw my kitty, sitting calmly, engaging at me steadfastly. No surprise or fear whatever crossed my mind, which seems to show that I was not altogether wide awake. But I waited for her to say something. While she kept on looking at me, I had left off wearing a nightcap ever since I went to Hampton School, not that I ever slept there, but because the boys had laughed at it. My Uncle Corny always said that this was tempting providence, and now I tried to put up my hands, but they would not go. And I sat, engaged, being a little surprised, but not amazed, as some people might have been. Then Kitty put up her hand to me, showing the palm of it quite rosy, as it always had been, and I knew that her dress was the one in a drawer. But that did not surprise me. Darling, you must be patient still. I am thousands of miles away from you. She spoke as quietly as if she were saying the tea is not quite drawn yet, and I received it as quietly. There is a good reason for my going, and you know it better than I do. Only be happy till I come back. For whatever you feel, I feel. When I come home, we shall never part again. This was a little too much for me, high and tragical as it seemed. I want you now! Oh, Kitty! Kitty, don't run away again! I cried and overwent both my Windsor chairs as I sprang up to fling my arms round her. But when I came to the place where she had been, lo, there was no one. Everything was cold and hard instead of her soft, warm figure. All I embraced was a kitchen towel, and a handle of a gridiron came between my vainly opened lips. CHAPTER 53 A BAD NIGHT Nevertheless that vision, if it was a vision, cheered me. The more I thought of it, the more I felt it meant something. And though free as any man can be from human superstition, here I found a special mercy, showing that I was not quite abandoned and forsaken. But I took good care not to make myself a laughing stock of any one, neither Uncle Corny or Henderson, who has now come back from his honeymoon, nor even Tabby Tapscott, who might well claim the best right of all, ever heard a word of it. To Mr. Colightly alone I spoke at all about the matter, and he, instead of laughing at me, took it very gravely. It is meant to encourage you, he said, and you should be thankful. Many even of the true believers have their doubts, as is natural, whether our little earthly course is guided by a higher hand or whether in the light of full instruction we are left to work it out. But I venture to think, with the men of old, that all things are ordered for us. You have had a bitter trial, such as befalls very few so young, and you have borne it well, my friend. Sometimes you have been gloomy and downcast, but never bitter, a more mysterious affliction I have never witnessed, and you know well how my heart is with you, though I seldom speak of it. There and be strong is the true watchword, and you have kept it nobly. I pray that I may live to see you in your happiness again, and you may without presumption hold that this has been vouchsafed to you as a token of approval and a signal to encourage you. So I tried to take it, though it seemed a meager comfort, and I wished that I had broken my knees again before I jumped up in such haste and spoiled the chance of learning more. My darling seemed to have finished, but if I had only waited, very likely she would have begun again, as women generally do. Of geography I had little knowledge except as taught at grammar school, and then it went some three inches down the world as known to the ancients. I doubted whether the south of France could be thousands of miles from Sunbury, though that might be a poetical expression, and no lady is expected to be accurate. And what is meant by the declaration that I knew better than she did the reason for her quitting me that looked as if I had done something wrong, and an inspired vision would have known that I had never even glanced at any other woman. Thinking of all this I was puzzled almost as much as comforted. In the next thing that occurred I found a further element of puzzle, but none at all of comfort. It was now the usual thing for me being in bachelor condition to turn into my Uncle Corny's house at the time he was having his early dinner. Not that it mattered much to me, only that I was able thus to save myself from bread and cheese and secure a little nourishment. I was doing this to the best of my ability without observing it, when in came Tony Tonks, as if he was running away from the bailiff. One of my firm convictions was that thin men never panted. But that impression, like all others, now required revising. Tony Tonks was in such a state, a lack of mind and body, that neither could at all work out the meaning of the other. We happened to have a little bit of boiled beef and young carrots, and my Uncle was just helping me to a scutching of grizzle at the corner, for he liked to keep a level cut, and he found me fitter now than he was for the horny places. But Tony was in such a state that when his knife and fork were laid he said, Not a bit for me, sir. My Uncle looked at him as if he were troubled with his ears again, as he had been last winter. Certainly a nice bit, he said, and close to the bone, accordingly. We buy it fresh, and we pickle it. At this time of year the butchers make it leather with salt-peeter. Tony saw that his face was stern, and to escape acrimony he took my plate with all upon it, that should have been for my inside. To this sort of thing I am too much accustomed to remonstrate. Not a word till you have finished, my Uncle spoke decisively. I have known a man who cut his throat by talking too much at dinnertime. Mr. Tong's looked not unlikely to commit this error, but after yielding to my Uncle's orders he seemed better. Then he crossed his knife and fork, which is a very defiant thing to do, and said as if he shot a pee at us I am come to throw up my appointment. My Uncle did not speak at first, when people took him suddenly he would not be disturbed by any contagious gush of suddenness, and he waited for Tony to go on instead of being pushed by him. What I mean is, Tong's continued, seeing that he might as well go slowly, I have done the best I can, and there is nothing more to be made of it. I can make out all about a horse because he is straightforward, but about a man is a different thing, and I shall go back to my business. Have you been frightened? asked my Uncle looking at him steadily. Not a bit of it. What is there to frighten me or anyone? In the eye of the law we are all equal. The man who killed me would swing as high as if he had killed Prince Albert. But that would not bring you back to life. You have been frightened, Tony Tong's, and it is useless to deny it. Well, my life is as much to me as the greatest man's that ever lived. Frightened is not the proper word. Only I look things in the face and weigh the rusk against the risk, and I find the last come heavier, and I am wanted now for the legger-nags. I am worth ten pounds a week at least, so I wish to say good-bye to you. I call you a coward and a sneak," said my Uncle, getting his wrath up, and it serves us all together right for dealing with such a fellow. I could not bear it from the first, but I listen to other people, as I am always much too apt to do. You won't have your spy money, I can tell you, for any day since Saturday. Ah, but I've got it," answered Mr. Tong's, who seemed well accustomed to reproaches. It was paid in advance, you must remember. I have cashed it and mean to stick to it. I don't quite see how that can be, said my Uncle with great sagacity. You must be making some mistake. You can never have got so in front of us. Ah, but I have, old cock, I have. All expense is paid, and here is my five-pound note, as safe as eggs. He tapped his pocket in a manner quite unworthy of an experienced tout. Very kind of you to show us. We will have it back. My Uncle seized him by the waist and planted him on the table. Even to me, kid, he won't hurt me, and I won't hurt him if he is quiet. He pinned the spy's arms with one of his and took the note from his waistcoat pocket, while the poor man struggled vainly. Then he set him again on the floor and said, You should learn to be more just, my friend. Highway robbery! shouted Tong's. Hide table, you mean, said my Uncle. I'll fetch the police. I'll give you in charge. I'll take out a warrant. Oh. You won't do anything of the sort. Sit down and reason quietly. You have broken contract, and if you were one of my workmen I would pay you nothing. But as you are a poor little jacksnap's, and did your best for us, I believe, until you got into this blue funk, you shall have half of this money Tong's to pay your way back to your proper work, but only on one condition that you tell us what has scared you so. Well, answered Tong's very sulkily. I always do what is fair and right, but you can't expect a man to go with his life in his hand to please you. In fact, if it is, I got into grief by following up that mid-well Ben-Gus, or whatever his name is. I told you that I was bound to do it before down he went to see him again, unless I could get any chance, you know, of seeing what was in that pocket, and I got no chance at all of that, though I did my best in Bullrag's rooms whenever I went to see him. But his hand, in spite of all the doctor's work, got swollen as big as a horse's head pretty nearly, and his temper became that frightful that I scarcely dirst go nigh him, and of course there was nothing to watch when he could scarcely get about at all. Naturally I did my best to make something out of his grumbles, but he would not have it, and at last he says, Poles, what the devil are you always after me for? It ain't from fromily affection, he says, and I can't pick up anything now, you see, if you want to spy into my family affairs I've got one hand left, he says, and that's enough for you. Well, that was pretty plain, you know, and worse than that in comes the doctor, and says he will not answer for his life unless he goes into some place where he could be properly nursed and tended. So down he makes his mind up in two minutes, gives up his rooms on Dover Street, and goes back to Bullragh Park, as they call it, for his mother to coddle and comfort him. And there they've got a hospital nurse and a wheelchair, and I don't know what all. And much too grand, of course, for me to go near with a binocle. You better come down and see my mother, Poles, when you want any further information. Down he said to me with his frightful grin like a yellow mango-wuzzle. Ah, she does like answering questions, light and sweetness, that's her nature. And so I was shut off, as you may suppose, and I pretty soon found out what made him so suspicious. He discovered somehow that I had been living for the first week, you know, not afterwards, at Good Mother Wilcox's place nearby, and they look upon her as an enemy, no doubt, having been nursed to the young lady they have stolen. If you try any more watching work up there you must not make that the headquarters, for they keep a look out there, you may depend. But I don't see what more do you have now to watch. The lady is out of England, you may take that for certain. Most likely she has snug in some lunatic asylum, or nunnery, perhaps, or monastery. Mr. Tonks was not well versed in such matters. Either in a south of France, or somewhere on the Continent, and unless you can lay hold of Downie bullrag and put him on the rack, as they do in Spain, until he squeaks out the truth there's no chance of you being much the wiser. I mean, of course, unless she escapes, or comes to herself, or whatever it may be, and tells you all about it with her own lips. And that is not very likely. They know what they are about, a great deal better than you do. Because they are scoundrels and we are honest men," said my uncle, making the little room sound. It may take a long time, but we shall win, and grind them beneath our heels, sir. You have seen as much robbery, Tony Tonks, as any man yet created. I don't deny it. Don't falter with it, but speak as you will have to speak that day when you go where lies are useless. Have you ever known cheating prosper? Better than anything else in the world. You can't get on without it, Mr. Orchardson. You know what I mean. Don't play with words. Does it prosper in the long run? It would, if they only knew when to stop, but that's just where the difference is. An honest man stops in good time, you know. An honest man never begins, said my uncle, but it is no good talking to you, Tonks. You have got corrupted all together. Well, what did you do about Ben Goose? That's just the point of it, that is. Says I to myself, now the coast is clear and I'll have a turn at that fellow. Down he is laid up with his mammy, and I'll get to the bottom of that affair. So I set off last night with a pistol in my pocket, one of those colts revolver things, for I knew it was a bad place and they might not stick at trifles. And sure enough they didn't, as you must acknowledge. I came up very quiet and knocked gently at the door and said, Cuck, as the fellow gave the ticket. It was open very civil, and I asked for Midgewell Ben Goose, and the man said, All right, just wait a minute. A little dark place it was under the stairs, and I did not much like the look of it, for I could hear a lot of voices further on, and they seemed to be drinking and card-playing. However I sat down where I was told and began to think over my story. My plan was to tell them that the Captain was ill, and sent me to say that the papers were all right, but he would like to know how he had got hold of them, and where he could get the others that were mentioned in them, and to pay him a sovereign just to keep things going till the Captain should be about again. The fellow would remember seeing me with him, and I had made up a very nice tale of it. But the smell of the place was something awful. Worse than all the bookmakers put together, and there is plenty to spare when you get among them. Either that or something else made me feel quite heavy, and I began to doze a little, though I fought very hard against it. And all of a sudden before I could jump up there was a leather strap around me, and my arms were buckled in it, as tight as you had me on the table, Squire, and a deal worse than that, for I was fastened to the chair, with a dollop of some stinking stuff across my eyes and mouth so that I was blind and pretty well choked. Then my legs were tied together as tight as any hay-band, and in that way I was left, I shall never know how long to listen to a lot of blackards laughing. There were women cackling too among the hooting of the men, and they cried, Cluck, cluck, my noble cock! And the worse I tried to rave at them the better they enjoyed it. Then they searched me, and took all my money, and my pistol, and threw me chair and all upon the floor, and whacked me on the arms and legs with a towel knotted up. I thought at last my moment was come, and it would have been if I had not sham-dead, and rolled over against the wall where I got a little air by rubbing the sacking against it, for I could not get my hands near my mouth. Then they began to talk in some thieves' lingo which I could not make head or tail of. The upshot was that they released my face, and gave me some horrible stuff to drink. And let me lie there, the Lord knows how long. I would rather die straight off than have such another night, for I saw great holes in the floor inspected to be pitched down and never come up again. At last a big fellow came and untied me and pitched me out of the cellar flap. And enough of, cluck, cluck, haven't you, old chap? He said as he banged the door behind me. And I found it was daylight. And I was in the court where I hid behind the truck from Downey. I was in such a state that I could scarcely crawl, but a good-natured coaster put me on his barrel and took me to Drury Lane, and there I found a cab. I never saw Ben Goose all the time, but no doubt he had arranged it all, under orders from Downey Bullrag. If you don't think I have had enough of this job, I do, Mr. Orchardson. Show your legs, said my uncle with a smile in which there was not too much compassion. I don't wish to be hard upon a man in trouble, but you are given the romance a little by your count, friend Tonks. Never to my employers, sir, but look here. His poor little drumsticks had plainly been acting the part of the drum quite recently, and were painted of diverse colors, while a broad stripe showed where the ligaments had been. I have a better opinion of you, Tonks, than I ever expected to have, said my uncle. You are a plucky little chap. Here's your five-pound note for you have earned it. It was your fault that I took it from you because you defied me. Now go back to your proper work, and if ever you come this way, look in, and I will give you a good dinner. End of Chapter 53