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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Captains All, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Captains All
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: October 30, 2006 [eBook #11191]
+[Most recently updated: December 17, 2022]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAINS ALL ***
+
+
+
+
+                             *CAPTAINS ALL*
+
+                                  _By_
+
+                              W. W. JACOBS
+
+
+                                  1911
+
+                                  ――――
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+    ILLUSTRATIONS
+    CAPTAINS ALL
+    THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE
+    THE NEST EGG
+    THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE
+    BOB'S REDEMPTION
+    OVER THE SIDE
+    THE FOUR PIGEONS
+    THE TEMPTATION OF SAMUEL BURGE
+    THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER
+    THE WHITE CAT
+
+                                  ――――
+
+                                  ――――
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+    “Captains All.”
+    “The Boatswain's Mate.”
+    “'I Gives You the Two Quid Afore You Go Into The House,'
+            Continued the Boatswain.”
+    “The Nest Egg.”
+    “He Said It Was a Bad Road and A Little Shop, And 'ad Got A Look
+            About It he Didn't Like.”
+    “The Constable's Move.”
+    “Mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short And
+            Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury.”
+    “Bob's Redemption.”
+    “Afore George Had Settled With the Cabman, There Was A Policeman
+            Moving the Crowd On.”
+    “Over the Side.”
+    “The Four Pigeons.”
+    “The Fust Bob Pretty 'eard of It Was up at The cauliflower at
+            Eight O'clock That Evening.”
+    “The Temptation of Samuel Burge.”
+    “The Madness of Mr. Lister.”
+    “A Friendship Sprang up Between the Two Men Which Puzzled The
+            Remainder of the Crew Not a Little.”
+    “The White Cat.”
+    “He 'ad a Little Collar and Chain Made for It, And Took It Out
+            for a Walk.”
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAINS ALL
+
+
+
+
+Every sailorman grumbles about the sea, said the night-watchman,
+thoughtfully. It's human nature to grumble, and I s'pose they keep on
+grumbling and sticking to it because there ain't much else they can do.
+There's not many shore-going berths that a sailorman is fit for, and
+those that they are—such as a night-watchman's, for instance—wants such
+a good character that there's few as are to equal it.
+
+Sometimes they get things to do ashore. I knew one man that took up
+butchering, and 'e did very well at it till the police took him up.
+Another man I knew gave up the sea to marry a washerwoman, and they
+hadn't been married six months afore she died, and back he 'ad to go to
+sea agin, pore chap.
+
+A man who used to grumble awful about the sea was old Sam Small—a man
+I've spoke of to you before. To hear 'im go on about the sea, arter he
+'ad spent four or five months' money in a fortnight, was 'artbreaking.
+He used to ask us wot was going to happen to 'im in his old age, and
+when we pointed out that he wouldn't be likely to 'ave any old age if he
+wasn't more careful of 'imself he used to fly into a temper and call us
+everything 'e could lay his tongue to.
+
+One time when 'e was ashore with Peter Russet and Ginger Dick he seemed
+to 'ave got it on the brain. He started being careful of 'is money
+instead o' spending it, and three mornings running he bought a newspaper
+and read the advertisements, to see whether there was any comfortable
+berth for a strong, good-'arted man wot didn't like work.
+
+He actually went arter one situation, and, if it hadn't ha' been for
+seventy-nine other men, he said he believed he'd ha' had a good chance
+of getting it. As it was, all 'e got was a black eye for shoving another
+man, and for a day or two he was so down-'arted that 'e was no company
+at all for the other two.
+
+For three or four days 'e went out by 'imself, and then, all of a
+sudden, Ginger Dick and Peter began to notice a great change in him. He
+seemed to 'ave got quite cheerful and 'appy. He answered 'em back
+pleasant when they spoke to 'im, and one night he lay in 'is bed
+whistling comic songs until Ginger and Peter Russet 'ad to get out o'
+bed to him. When he bought a new necktie and a smart cap and washed
+'imself twice in one day they fust began to ask each other wot was up,
+and then they asked him.
+
+“Up?” ses Sam; “nothing.”
+
+“He's in love,” ses Peter Russet.
+
+“You're a liar,” ses Sam, without turning round.
+
+“He'll 'ave it bad at 'is age,” ses Ginger.
+
+Sam didn't say nothing, but he kept fidgeting about as though 'e'd got
+something on his mind. Fust he looked out o' the winder, then he 'ummed
+a tune, and at last, looking at 'em very fierce, he took a tooth-brush
+wrapped in paper out of 'is pocket and began to clean 'is teeth.
+
+“He is in love,” ses Ginger, as soon as he could speak.
+
+“Or else 'e's gorn mad,” ses Peter, watching 'im. “Which is it, Sam?”
+
+Sam made believe that he couldn't answer 'im because o' the tooth-brush,
+and arter he'd finished he 'ad such a raging toothache that 'e sat in a
+corner holding 'is face and looking the pictur' o' misery. They couldn't
+get a word out of him till they asked 'im to go out with them, and then
+he said 'e was going to bed. Twenty minutes arterwards, when Ginger Dick
+stepped back for 'is pipe, he found he 'ad gorn.
+
+He tried the same game next night, but the other two wouldn't 'ave it,
+and they stayed in so long that at last 'e lost 'is temper, and, arter
+wondering wot Ginger's father and mother could ha' been a-thinking
+about, and saying that he believed Peter Russet 'ad been changed at
+birth for a sea-sick monkey, he put on 'is cap and went out. Both of 'em
+follered 'im sharp, but when he led 'em to a mission-hall, and actually
+went inside, they left 'im and went off on their own.
+
+They talked it over that night between themselves, and next evening they
+went out fust and hid themselves round the corner. Ten minutes
+arterwards old Sam came out, walking as though 'e was going to catch a
+train; and smiling to think 'ow he 'ad shaken them off. At the corner of
+Commercial Road he stopped and bought 'imself a button-hole for 'is
+coat, and Ginger was so surprised that 'e pinched Peter Russet to make
+sure that he wasn't dreaming.
+
+Old Sam walked straight on whistling, and every now and then looking
+down at 'is button-hole, until by-and-by he turned down a street on the
+right and went into a little shop. Ginger Dick and Peter waited for 'im
+at the corner, but he was inside for so long that at last they got tired
+o' waiting and crept up and peeped through the winder.
+
+It was a little tobacconist's shop, with newspapers and penny toys and
+such-like; but, as far as Ginger could see through two rows o' pipes and
+the Police News, it was empty. They stood there with their noses pressed
+against the glass for some time, wondering wot had 'appened to Sam, but
+by-and-by a little boy went in and then they began to 'ave an idea wot
+Sam's little game was.
+
+As the shop-bell went the door of a little parlour at the back of the
+shop opened, and a stout and uncommon good-looking woman of about forty
+came out. Her 'ead pushed the Police News out o' the way and her 'and
+came groping into the winder arter a toy.
+
+Ginger 'ad a good look at 'er out o' the corner of one eye, while he
+pretended to be looking at a tobacco-jar with the other. As the little
+boy came out 'im and Peter Russet went in.
+
+“I want a pipe, please,” he ses, smiling at 'er; “a clay pipe—one o'
+your best.” The woman handed 'im down a box to choose from, and just
+then Peter, wot 'ad been staring in at the arf-open door at a boot wot
+wanted lacing up, gave a big start and ses, “Why! Halloa!”
+
+“Wot's the matter?” ses the woman, looking at 'im.
+
+“I'd know that foot anywhere,” ses Peter, still staring at it; and the
+words was hardly out of 'is mouth afore the foot 'ad moved itself away
+and tucked itself under its chair. “Why, that's my dear old friend Sam
+Small, ain't it?”
+
+“Do you know the captin?” ses the woman, smiling at 'im.
+
+“Cap——?” ses Peter. “Cap——? Oh, yes; why, he's the biggest friend I've
+got.” “'Ow strange!” ses the woman.
+
+“We've been wanting to see 'im for some time,” ses Ginger. “He was kind
+enough to lend me arf a crown the other day, and I've been wanting to
+pay 'im.”
+
+“Captin Small,” ses the woman, pushing open the door, “here's some old
+friends o' yours.”
+
+Old Sam turned 'is face round and looked at 'em, and if looks could ha'
+killed, as the saying is, they'd ha' been dead men there and then.
+
+“Oh, yes,” he ses, in a choking voice; “'ow are you?”
+
+“Pretty well, thank you, captin,” ses Ginger, grinning at 'im; “and
+'ow's yourself arter all this long time?”
+
+He held out 'is hand and Sam shook it, and then shook 'ands with Peter
+Russet, who was grinning so 'ard that he couldn't speak.
+
+“These are two old friends o' mine, Mrs. Finch,” ses old Sam, giving 'em
+a warning look; “Captin Dick and Captin Russet, two o' the oldest and
+best friends a man ever 'ad.”
+
+“Captin Dick 'as got arf a crown for you,” ses Peter Russet, still
+grinning.
+
+“There now,” ses Ginger, looking vexed, “if I ain't been and forgot it;
+I've on'y got arf a sovereign.”
+
+“I can give you change, sir,” ses Mrs. Finch. “P'r'aps you'd like to sit
+down for five minutes?”
+
+Ginger thanked 'er, and 'im and Peter Russet took a chair apiece in
+front o' the fire and began asking old Sam about 'is 'ealth, and wot
+he'd been doing since they saw 'im last.
+
+“Fancy your reckernizing his foot,” ses Mrs. Finch, coming in with the
+change.
+
+“I'd know it anywhere,” ses Peter, who was watching Ginger pretending to
+give Sam Small the 'arf-dollar, and Sam pretending in a most lifelike
+manner to take it.
+
+Ginger Dick looked round the room. It was a comfortable little place,
+with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs, and a
+row of pink vases on the mantelpiece. Then 'e looked at Mrs. Finch, and
+thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.
+
+“This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty, troublesome
+sailormen to look arter, Captin Small,” he ses.
+
+“It's wonderful the way he manages 'em,” ses Peter Russet to Mrs. Finch.
+“Like a lion he is.”
+
+“A roaring lion,” ses Ginger, looking at Sam. “He don't know wot fear
+is.”
+
+Sam began to smile, and Mrs. Finch looked at 'im so pleased that Peter
+Russet, who 'ad been looking at 'er and the room, and thinking much the
+same way as Ginger, began to think that they was on the wrong tack.
+
+“Afore 'e got stout and old,” he ses, shaking his 'ead, “there wasn't a
+smarter skipper afloat.”
+
+“We all 'ave our day,” ses Ginger, shaking his 'ead too.
+
+“I dessay he's good for another year or two afloat, yet,” ses Peter
+Russet, considering. “With care,” ses Ginger.
+
+Old Sam was going to say something, but 'e stopped himself just in time.
+“They will 'ave their joke,” he ses, turning to Mrs. Finch and trying to
+smile. “I feel as young as ever I did.”
+
+Mrs. Finch said that anybody with arf an eye could see that, and then
+she looked at a kettle that was singing on the 'ob.
+
+“I s'pose you gentlemen wouldn't care for a cup o' cocoa?” she ses,
+turning to them.
+
+Ginger Dick and Peter both said that they liked it better than anything
+else, and, arter she 'ad got out the cups and saucers and a tin o'
+cocoa, Ginger held the kettle and poured the water in the cups while she
+stirred them, and old Sam sat looking on 'elpless.
+
+“It does seem funny to see you drinking cocoa, captin,” ses Ginger, as
+old Sam took his cup.
+
+“Ho!” ses Sam, firing up; “and why, if I might make so bold as to ask?”
+
+“'Cos I've generally seen you drinking something out of a bottle,” ses
+Ginger.
+
+“Now, look 'ere,” ses Sam, starting up and spilling some of the hot
+cocoa over 'is lap.
+
+“A ginger-beer bottle,” ses Peter Russet, making faces at Ginger to keep
+quiet.
+
+“Yes, o' course, that's wot I meant,” ses Ginger.
+
+Old Sam wiped the cocoa off 'is knees without saying a word, but his
+weskit kept going up and down till Peter Russet felt quite sorry for
+'im.
+
+“There's nothing like it,” he ses to Mrs. Finch. “It was by sticking to
+ginger-beer and milk and such-like that Captain Small 'ad command of a
+ship afore 'e was twenty-five.”
+
+“Lor'!” ses Mrs. Finch.
+
+She smiled at old Sam till Peter got uneasy agin, and began to think
+p'r'aps 'e'd been praising 'im too much.
+
+“Of course, I'm speaking of long ago now,” he ses.
+
+“Years and years afore you was born, ma'am,” ses Ginger.
+
+Old Sam was going to say something, but Mrs. Finch looked so pleased
+that 'e thought better of it. Some o' the cocoa 'e was drinking went the
+wrong way, and then Ginger patted 'im on the back and told 'im to be
+careful not to bring on 'is brownchitis agin. Wot with temper and being
+afraid to speak for fear they should let Mrs. Finch know that 'e wasn't
+a captin, he could 'ardly bear 'imself, but he very near broke out when
+Peter Russet advised 'im to 'ave his weskit lined with red flannel. They
+all stayed on till closing time, and by the time they left they 'ad made
+theirselves so pleasant that Mrs. Finch said she'd be pleased to see
+them any time they liked to look in.
+
+Sam Small waited till they 'ad turned the corner, and then he broke out
+so alarming that they could 'ardly do anything with 'im. Twice policemen
+spoke to 'im and advised 'im to go home afore they altered their minds;
+and he 'ad to hold 'imself in and keep quiet while Ginger and Peter
+Russet took 'is arms and said they were seeing him 'ome.
+
+He started the row agin when they got in-doors, and sat up in 'is bed
+smacking 'is lips over the things he'd like to 'ave done to them if he
+could. And then, arter saying 'ow he'd like to see Ginger boiled alive
+like a lobster, he said he knew that 'e was a noble-'arted feller who
+wouldn't try and cut an old pal out, and that it was a case of love at
+first sight on top of a tram-car.
+
+“She's too young for you,” ses Ginger; “and too good-looking besides.”
+
+“It's the nice little bisness he's fallen in love with, Ginger,” ses
+Peter Russet. “I'll toss you who 'as it.”
+
+Ginger, who was siting on the foot o' Sam's bed, said “no” at fust, but
+arter a time he pulled out arf a dollar and spun it in the air.
+
+That was the last 'e see of it, although he 'ad Sam out o' bed and all
+the clothes stripped off of it twice. He spent over arf an hour on his
+'ands and knees looking for it, and Sam said when he was tired of
+playing bears p'r'aps he'd go to bed and get to sleep like a Christian.
+
+They 'ad it all over agin next morning, and at last, as nobody would
+agree to keep quiet and let the others 'ave a fair chance, they made up
+their minds to let the best man win. Ginger Dick bought a necktie that
+took all the colour out o' Sam's, and Peter Russet went in for a collar
+so big that 'e was lost in it.
+
+They all strolled into the widow's shop separate that night. Ginger Dick
+'ad smashed his pipe and wanted another; Peter Russet wanted some
+tobacco; and old Sam Small walked in smiling, with a little silver
+brooch for 'er, that he said 'e had picked up.
+
+It was a very nice brooch, and Mrs. Finch was so pleased with it that
+Ginger and Peter sat there as mad as they could be because they 'adn't
+thought of the same thing.
+
+“Captain Small is very lucky at finding things,” ses Ginger, at last.
+
+“He's got the name for it,” ses Peter Russet.
+
+“It's a handy 'abit,” ses Ginger; “it saves spending money. Who did you
+give that gold bracelet to you picked up the other night, captin?” he
+ses, turning to Sam.
+
+“Gold bracelet?” ses Sam. “I didn't pick up no gold bracelet. Wot are
+you talking about?”
+
+“All right, captin; no offence,” ses Ginger, holding up his 'and. “I
+dreamt I saw one on your mantelpiece, I s'pose. P'r'aps I oughtn't to
+ha' said anything about it.”
+
+Old Sam looked as though he'd like to eat 'im, especially as he noticed
+Mrs. Finch listening and pretending not to. “Oh! that one,” he ses,
+arter a bit o' hard thinking. “Oh! I found out who it belonged to. You
+wouldn't believe 'ow pleased they was at getting it back agin.”
+
+Ginger Dick coughed and began to think as 'ow old Sam was sharper than
+he 'ad given 'im credit for, but afore he could think of anything else
+to say Mrs. Finch looked at old Sam and began to talk about 'is ship,
+and to say 'ow much she should like to see over it.
+
+“I wish I could take you,” ses Sam, looking at the other two out o' the
+corner of his eye, “but my ship's over at Dunkirk, in France. I've just
+run over to London for a week or two to look round.”
+
+“And mine's there too,” ses Peter Russet, speaking a'most afore old Sam
+'ad finished; “side by side they lay in the harbour.”
+
+“Oh, dear,” ses Mrs. Finch, folding her 'ands and shaking her 'cad. “I
+should like to go over a ship one arternoon. I'd quite made up my mind
+to it, knowing three captins.”
+
+She smiled and looked at Ginger; and Sam and Peter looked at 'im too,
+wondering whether he was going to berth his ship at Dunkirk alongside o'
+theirs.
+
+“Ah, I wish I 'ad met you a fortnight ago,” ses Ginger, very sad. “I
+gave up my ship, the High flyer, then, and I'm waiting for one my owners
+are 'aving built for me at New-castle. They said the High flyer wasn't
+big enough for me. She was a nice little ship, though. I believe I've
+got 'er picture somewhere about me!”
+
+He felt in 'is pocket and pulled out a little, crumpled-up photograph of
+a ship he'd been fireman aboard of some years afore, and showed it to
+'er.
+
+“That's me standing on the bridge,” he ses, pointing out a little dot
+with the stem of 'is pipe.
+
+“It's your figger,” ses Mrs. Finch, straining her eyes. “I should know
+it anywhere.”
+
+“You've got wonderful eyes, ma'am,” ses old Sam, choking with 'is pipe.
+
+“Anybody can see that,” ses Ginger. “They're the largest and the bluest
+I've ever seen.”
+
+Mrs. Finch told 'im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter Russet
+could see 'ow pleased she was.
+
+“Truth is truth,” ses Ginger. “I'm a plain man, and I speak my mind.”
+
+“Blue is my fav'rit' colour,” ses old Sam, in a tender voice. “True
+blue.”
+
+Peter Russet began to feel out of it. “I thought brown was,” he ses.
+
+“Ho!” ses Sam, turning on 'im; “and why?”
+
+“I 'ad my reasons,” ses Peter, nodding, and shutting 'is mouth very
+firm.
+
+“I thought brown was 'is fav'rit colour too,” ses Ginger. “I don't know
+why. It's no use asking me; because if you did I couldn't tell you.”
+
+“Brown's a very nice colour,” ses Mrs. Finch, wondering wot was the
+matter with old Sam.
+
+“Blue,” ses Ginger; “big blue eyes—they're the ones for me. Other people
+may 'ave their blacks and their browns,” he ses, looking at Sam and
+Peter Russet, “but give me blue.”
+
+They went on like that all the evening, and every time the shop-bell
+went and the widow 'ad to go out to serve a customer they said in
+w'ispers wot they thought of each other; and once when she came back
+rather sudden Ginger 'ad to explain to 'er that 'e was showing Peter
+Russet a scratch on his knuckle.
+
+Ginger Dick was the fust there next night, and took 'er a little chiney
+teapot he 'ad picked up dirt cheap because it was cracked right acrost
+the middle; but, as he explained that he 'ad dropped it in hurrying to
+see 'er, she was just as pleased. She stuck it up on the mantelpiece,
+and the things she said about Ginger's kindness and generosity made
+Peter Russet spend good money that he wanted for 'imself on a painted
+flower-pot next evening.
+
+With three men all courting 'er at the same time Mrs. Finch had 'er
+hands full, but she took to it wonderful considering. She was so nice
+and kind to 'em all that even arter a week's 'ard work none of 'em was
+really certain which she liked best.
+
+They took to going in at odd times o' the day for tobacco and such-like.
+They used to go alone then, but they all met and did the polite to each
+other there of an evening, and then quarrelled all the way 'ome.
+
+Then all of a sudden, without any warning, Ginger Dick and Peter Russet
+left off going there. The fust evening Sam sat expecting them every
+minute, and was so surprised that he couldn't take any advantage of it;
+but on the second, beginning by squeezing Mrs. Finch's 'and at ha'-past
+seven, he 'ad got best part of his arm round 'er waist by a quarter to
+ten. He didn't do more that night because she told him to be'ave
+'imself, and threatened to scream if he didn't leave off.
+
+He was arf-way home afore 'e thought of the reason for Ginger Dick and
+Peter Russet giving up, and then he went along smiling to 'imself to
+such an extent that people thought 'e was mad. He went off to sleep with
+the smile still on 'is lips, and when Peter and Ginger came in soon
+arter closing time and 'e woke up and asked them where they'd been, 'e
+was still smiling.
+
+“I didn't 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you at Mrs. Finch's to-night,” he
+ses.
+
+“No,” ses Ginger, very short. “We got tired of it.”
+
+“So un'ealthy sitting in that stuffy little room every evening,” ses
+Peter.
+
+Old Sam put his 'ead under the bedclothes and laughed till the bed
+shook; and every now and then he'd put his 'ead out and look at Peter
+and Ginger and laugh agin till he choked.
+
+“I see 'ow it is,” he ses, sitting up and wiping his eyes on the sheet.
+“Well, we cant all win.”
+
+“Wot d'ye mean?” ses Ginger, very disagreeable.
+
+“She wouldn't 'ave you, Sam, thats wot I mean. And I don't wonder at it.
+I wouldn't 'ave you if I was a gal.”
+
+“You're dreaming, ses Peter Russet, sneering at 'im.
+
+“That flower-pot o' yours'll come in handy,” ses Sam, thinking 'ow he
+'ad put 'is arm round the widow's waist; “and I thank you kindly for the
+teapot, Ginger.
+
+“You don't mean to say as you've asked 'er to marry you?” ses Ginger,
+looking at Peter Russet.
+
+“Not quite; but I'm going to,” ses Sam, “and I'll bet you even
+arf-crowns she ses 'yes.'”
+
+Ginger wouldn't take 'im, and no more would Peter, not even when he
+raised it to five shillings; and the vain way old Sam lay there boasting
+and talking about 'is way with the gals made 'em both feel ill.
+
+“I wouldn't 'ave her if she asked me on 'er bended knees,” ses Ginger,
+holding up his 'ead.
+
+“Nor me,” ses Peter. “You're welcome to 'er, Sam. When I think of the
+evenings I've wasted over a fat old woman I feel——”
+
+“That'll do,” ses old Sam, very sharp; “that ain't the way to speak of a
+lady, even if she 'as said 'no.'”
+
+“All right, Sam,” ses Ginger. “You go in and win if you think you're so
+precious clever.”
+
+Old Sam said that that was wot 'e was going to do, and he spent so much
+time next morning making 'imself look pretty that the other two could
+'ardly be civil to him.
+
+He went off a'most direckly arter breakfast, and they didn't see 'im
+agin till twelve o'clock that night. He 'ad brought a bottle o' whisky
+in with 'im, and he was so 'appy that they see plain wot had 'appened.
+
+“She said 'yes' at two o'clock in the arternoon,” ses old Sam, smiling,
+arter they had 'ad a glass apiece. “I'd nearly done the trick at one
+o'clock, and then the shop-bell went, and I 'ad to begin all over agin.
+Still, it wasn't unpleasant.”
+
+“Do you mean to tell us you've asked 'er to marry you?” ses Ginger,
+'olding out 'is glass to be filled agin.
+
+“I do,” ses Sam; “but I 'ope there's no ill-feeling. You never 'ad a
+chance, neither of you; she told me so.”
+
+Ginger Dick and Peter Russet stared at each other.
+
+“She said she 'ad been in love with me all along,” ses Sam, filling
+their glasses agin to cheer 'em up. “We went out arter tea and bought
+the engagement-ring, and then she got somebody to mind the shop and we
+went to the Pagoda music-'all.”
+
+“I 'ope you didn't pay much for the ring, Sam,” ses Ginger, who always
+got very kind-'arted arter two or three glasses o' whisky. “If I'd known
+you was going to be in such a hurry I might ha' told you before.”
+
+“We ought to ha' done,” ses Peter, shaking his 'ead.
+
+“Told me?” ses Sam, staring at 'em. “Told me wot?”
+
+“Why me and Peter gave it up,” ses Ginger; “but, o' course, p'r'aps you
+don't mind.”
+
+“Mind wot?” ses Sam.
+
+“It's wonderful 'ow quiet she kept it,” ses Peter.
+
+Old Sam stared at 'em agin, and then he asked 'em to speak in plain
+English wot they'd got to say, and not to go taking away the character
+of a woman wot wasn't there to speak up for herself.
+
+“It's nothing agin 'er character,” ses Ginger. “It's a credit to her,
+looked at properly,” ses Peter Russet.
+
+“And Sam'll 'ave the pleasure of bringing of 'em up,” ses Ginger.
+
+“Bringing of 'em up?” ses Sam, in a trembling voice and turning pale;
+“bringing who up?”
+
+“Why, 'er children,” ses Ginger. “Didn't she tell you? She's got nine of
+'em.”
+
+Sam pretended not to believe 'em at fust, and said they was jealous; but
+next day he crept down to the greengrocer's shop in the same street,
+where Ginger had 'appened to buy some oranges one day, and found that it
+was only too true. Nine children, the eldest of 'em only fifteen, was
+staying with diff'rent relations owing to scarlet-fever next door.
+
+Old Sam crept back 'ome like a man in a dream, with a bag of oranges he
+didn't want, and, arter making a present of the engagement-ring to
+Ginger—if 'e could get it—he took the fust train to Tilbury and signed
+on for a v'y'ge to China.
+
+
+
+
+THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE
+
+
+
+
+Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with a
+despondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in his
+hand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair,
+eyed him with some heat.
+
+“My feelings'll never change,” said the boatswain.
+
+“Nor mine either,” said the landlady, sharply. “It's a strange thing,
+Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third mug.”
+
+“It's only to get my courage up,” pleaded the boatswain. “Next time I'll
+do it afore I 'ave a drop; that'll prove to you I'm in earnest.”
+
+He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could make a
+selection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.
+
+After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road seemed hot
+and dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a man whose
+hand has been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on unheeding.
+His steps lagged, but his brain was active.
+
+He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady bank
+took a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe. The heat
+and the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the corner
+of his mouth, and his eyes closed.
+
+He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling in
+his pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder. He saw a tall man
+carrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage,
+the keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting the
+old soldier.
+
+The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed him
+pleasantly.
+
+“Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?” he inquired.
+
+The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept that
+luxury.
+
+“Lobster, ain't you?” he said, affably.
+
+The tall man nodded. “Was,” he replied. “Now I'm my own
+commander-in-chief.”
+
+“Padding it?” suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him and
+refilling his pipe.
+
+The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversation
+dropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him. “I've got
+plenty of time,” he remarked.
+
+Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence. A dim idea which
+had been in his mind for some time began to clarify. He stole a glance
+at his companion—a man of about thirty-eight, clear eyes, with humorous
+wrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a cheerful expression
+more than tinged with recklessness.
+
+“Ain't over and above fond o' work?” suggested the boatswain, when he
+had finished his inspection.
+
+“I love it,” said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, “but
+we can't have all we want in this world; it wouldn't be good for us.”
+
+The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed. Then he rattled his
+pocket.
+
+“Would arf a quid be any good to you?” he inquired.
+
+“Look here,” began the soldier; “just because I asked you for a pipe o'
+baccy—”
+
+“No offence,” said the other, quickly. “I mean if you earned it?”
+
+The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. “Gardening and
+windows?” he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+
+The boatswain shook his head.
+
+“Scrubbing, p'r'aps?” said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation.
+“Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me of
+pouching the soap. Hang 'em!”
+
+“And you didn't?” queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.
+
+The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at him
+darkly. “I can't give it back to you,” he said, slowly, “because I've
+smoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only got
+twopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey, and next time a
+poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil.”
+
+“I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,”
+expostulated the boat-swain. “I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.
+Good reasons they was.”
+
+The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.
+
+“I spoke of arf a sovereign just now,” continued the boatswain,
+impressively, “and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o'
+burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your
+honesty.”
+
+“Burgling?” gasped the astonished soldier. “Honesty? 'Struth; are you
+drunk or am I?”
+
+“Meaning,” said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand,
+“for you to pretend to be a burglar.”
+
+“We're both drunk, that's what it is,” said the other, resignedly.
+
+The boatswain fidgeted. “If you don't agree, mum's the word and no 'arm
+done,” he said, holding out his hand.
+
+“Mum's the word,” said the soldier, taking it. “My name's Ned Travers,
+and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing against
+it. Mind that.”
+
+“Might 'appen to anybody,” said Mr. Benn, soothingly. “You fill your
+pipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin.”
+
+Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity,
+stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away. Then he
+resumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other “fire
+away.”
+
+“I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet,” said Mr. Benn, slowly,
+“but it's in my mind's eye. It's been there off and on like for some
+time.”
+
+He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge. “Two
+miles from here, where I live,” he said, after several vigorous puffs,
+“there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wot
+I've got my eye on.”
+
+The soldier sat up.
+
+“She won't 'ave me,” said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise.
+
+The soldier leaned back again.
+
+“She's a lone widder,” continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, “and the
+Beehive is in a lonely place. It's right through the village, and the
+nearest house is arf a mile off.”
+
+“Silly place for a pub,” commented Mr. Travers.
+
+“I've been telling her 'ow unsafe it is,” said the boatswain. “I've been
+telling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she only laughs at
+me. She don't believe it; d'ye see? Likewise I'm a small man—small, but
+stiff. She likes tall men.”
+
+“Most women do,” said Mr. Travers, sitting upright and instinctively
+twisting his moustache. “When I was in the ranks—”
+
+“My idea is,” continued the boatswain, slightly raising his voice, “to
+kill two birds with one stone—prove to her that she does want being
+protected, and that I'm the man to protect her. D'ye take my meaning,
+mate?”
+
+The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps. “Like a lump
+o' wood,” he said, approvingly.
+
+“My opinion is,” said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, “that she loves
+me without knowing it.”
+
+“They often do,” said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his head.
+
+“Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed,” said the other.
+
+“It does you credit,” remarked Mr. Travers.
+
+“I've got a good head,” said Mr. Benn, “else I shouldn't 'ave got my
+rating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it over in
+my mind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with it. Now,
+if you do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all right, damme
+I'll make it a quid.”
+
+“Go on, Vanderbilt,” said Mr. Travers; “I'm listening.”
+
+The boatswain gazed at him fixedly. “You meet me 'ere in this spot at
+eleven o'clock to-night,” he said, solemnly; “and I'll take you to her
+'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of. You goes upstairs
+and alarms her, and she screams for help. I'm watching the house,
+faithful-like, and hear 'er scream. I dashes in at the winder, knocks
+you down, and rescues her. D'ye see?”
+
+“I hear,” corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.
+
+“She clings to me,” continued the boat-swain, with a rapt expression of
+face, “in her gratitood, and, proud of my strength and pluck, she
+marries me.”
+
+“An' I get a five years' honeymoon,” said the soldier.
+
+The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder. “In the
+excitement of the moment you spring up and escape,” he said, with a
+kindly smile. “I've thought it all out. You can run much faster than I
+can; any-ways, you will. The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off, as I said,
+and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's, ten miles
+away.”
+
+Mr. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself. “Time I was
+toddling,” he said, with a yawn. “Thanks for amusing me, mate.”
+
+“You won't do it?” said the boatswain, eyeing him with much concern.
+
+“I'm hanged if I do,” said the soldier, emphatically. “Accidents will
+happen, and then where should I be?”
+
+“If they did,” said the boatswain, “I'd own up and clear you.”
+
+“You might,” said Mr. Travers, “and then again you mightn't. So long,
+mate.”
+
+“I—I'll make it two quid,” said the boat-swain, trembling with
+eagerness. “I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the job.”
+
+The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his shoulder.
+“Thankee,” he said, with mock gratitude.
+
+“Look 'ere,” said the boatswain, springing up and catching him by the
+sleeve; “I'll give it to you in writing. Come, you ain't faint-hearted?
+Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing. If I give it to
+you in writing, and there should be an accident, it's worse for me than
+it is for you, ain't it?”
+
+Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his head.
+
+“I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house,” continued the
+boatswain, hastily following up the impression he had made. “I'd give
+'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me. That's my confidence in you; I
+likes the look of you. Soldier or sailor, when there is a man's work to
+be done, give 'em to me afore anybody.”
+
+The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the ground.
+“Go on,” he said, slowly. “Write it out fair and square and sign it, and
+I'm your man.”
+
+The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle of
+papers from his pocket. “There's letters there with my name and address
+on 'em,” he said. “It's all fair, square, and above-board. When you've
+cast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing.”
+
+Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in silence, with
+various side glances at his companion as that enthusiast sucked his
+pencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition. The document
+finished—after several failures had been retrieved and burnt by the
+careful Mr. Travers—the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and handing
+it over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he read it.
+
+“Seems all right,” said the soldier, folding it up and putting it in his
+waistcoat-pocket. “I'll be here at eleven to-night.”
+
+“Eleven it is,” said the boatswain, briskly, “and, between pals—here's
+arf a dollar to go on with.”
+
+He patted him on the shoulder again, and with a caution to keep out of
+sight as much as possible till night walked slowly home. His step was
+light, but he carried a face in which care and exultation were strangely
+mingled.
+
+By ten o'clock that night care was in the ascendant, and by eleven, when
+he discerned the red glow of Mr. Travers's pipe set as a beacon against
+a dark background of hedge, the boatswain was ready to curse his
+inventive powers. Mr. Travers greeted him cheerily and, honestly
+attributing the fact to good food and a couple of pints of beer he had
+had since the boatswain left him, said that he was ready for anything.
+
+Mr. Benn grunted and led the way in silence. There was no moon, but the
+night was clear, and Mr. Travers, after one or two light-hearted
+attempts at conversation, abandoned the effort and fell to whistling
+softly instead.
+
+Except for one lighted window the village slept in darkness, but the
+boatswain, who had been walking with the stealth of a Red Indian on the
+war-path, breathed more freely after they had left it behind. A renewal
+of his antics a little farther on apprised Mr. Travers that they were
+approaching their destination, and a minute or two later they came to a
+small inn standing just off the road. “All shut up and Mrs. Waters abed,
+bless her,” whispered the boatswain, after walking care-fully round the
+house. “How do you feel?”
+
+“I'm all right,” said Mr. Travers. “I feel as if I'd been burgling all
+my life. How do you feel?”
+
+“Narvous,” said Mr. Benn, pausing under a small window at the rear of
+the house. “This is the one.”
+
+Mr. Travers stepped back a few paces and gazed up at the house. All was
+still. For a few moments he stood listening and then re-joined the
+boatswain.
+
+“Good-bye, mate,” he said, hoisting himself on to the sill. “Death or
+victory.”
+
+The boatswain whispered and thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand.
+“Take your time; there's no hurry,” he muttered. “I want to pull myself
+together. Frighten 'er enough, but not too much. When she screams I'll
+come in.”
+
+Mr. Travers slipped inside and then thrust his head out of the window.
+“Won't she think it funny you should be so handy?” he inquired.
+
+“No; it's my faithful 'art,” said the boat-swain, “keeping watch over
+her every night, that's the ticket. She won't know no better.”
+
+Mr. Travers grinned, and removing his boots passed them out to the
+other. “We don't want her to hear me till I'm upstairs,” he whispered.
+“Put 'em outside, handy for me to pick up.”
+
+The boatswain obeyed, and Mr. Travers—who was by no means a good hand at
+darning socks—shivered as he trod lightly over a stone floor. Then,
+following the instructions of Mr. Benn, he made his way to the stairs
+and mounted noiselessly.
+
+But for a slight stumble half-way up his progress was very creditable
+for an amateur. He paused and listened and, all being silent, made his
+way to the landing and stopped out-side a door. Despite himself his
+heart was beating faster than usual.
+
+He pushed the door open slowly and started as it creaked. Nothing
+happening he pushed again, and standing just inside saw, by a small ewer
+silhouetted against the casement, that he was in a bedroom. He listened
+for the sound of breathing, but in vain.
+
+“Quiet sleeper,” he reflected; “or perhaps it is an empty room. Now, I
+wonder whether—”
+
+The sound of an opening door made him start violently, and he stood
+still, scarcely breathing, with his ears on the alert. A light shone on
+the landing, and peeping round the door he saw a woman coming along the
+corridor—a younger and better-looking woman than he had expected to see.
+In one hand she held aloft a candle, in the other she bore a
+double-barrelled gun. Mr. Travers withdrew into the room and, as the
+light came nearer, slipped into a big cupboard by the side of the
+fireplace and, standing bolt upright, waited. The light came into the
+room.
+
+“Must have been my fancy,” said a pleasant voice.
+
+“Bless her,” smiled Mr. Travers.
+
+His trained ear recognized the sound of cocking triggers. The next
+moment a heavy body bumped against the door of the cupboard and the key
+turned in the lock.
+
+“Got you!” said the voice, triumphantly. “Keep still; if you try and
+break out I shall shoot you.”
+
+“All right,” said Mr. Travers, hastily; “I won't move.”
+
+“Better not,” said the voice. “Mind, I've got a gun pointing straight at
+you.”
+
+“Point it downwards, there's a good girl,” said Mr. Travers, earnestly;
+“and take your finger off the trigger. If anything happened to me you'd
+never forgive yourself.”
+
+“It's all right so long as you don't move,” said the voice; “and I'm not
+a girl,” it added, sternly.
+
+“Yes, you are,” said the prisoner. “I saw you. I thought it was an angel
+at first. I saw your little bare feet and—”
+
+A faint scream interrupted him.
+
+“You'll catch cold,” urged Mr. Travers.
+
+“Don't you trouble about me,” said the voice, tartly.
+
+“I won't give any trouble,” said Mr. Travers, who began to think it was
+time for the boatswain to appear on the scene. “Why don't you call for
+help? I'll go like a lamb.”
+
+“I don't want your advice,” was the reply. “I know what to do. Now,
+don't you try and break out. I'm going to fire one barrel out of the
+window, but I've got the other one for you if you move.”
+
+“My dear girl,” protested the horrified Mr. Travers, “you'll alarm the
+neighbourhood.”
+
+“Just what I want to do,” said the voice. “Keep still, mind.”
+
+Mr. Travers hesitated. The game was up, and it was clear that in any
+case the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.
+
+“Stop!” he said, earnestly. “Don't do anything rash. I'm not a burglar;
+I'm doing this for a friend of yours—Mr. Benn.”
+
+“What?” said an amazed voice.
+
+“True as I stand here,” asseverated Mr. Travers. “Here, here's my
+instructions. I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the back
+window you'll see him in the garden waiting.”
+
+He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched from
+his fingers. He regained an upright position and stood listening to the
+startled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read the
+boatswain's permit:
+
+        “This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of
+        sound mind and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to
+        be a burglar at Mrs. Waters's.  He ain't a burglar, and
+        I shall be outside all the time. It's all above-board
+        and ship-shape.
+
+        “(Signed) George Benn”
+
+    “Sound mind—above-board—ship-shape,” repeated a dazed voice.
+    “Where is he?”
+
+“Out at the back,” replied Mr. Travers. “If you go to the window you can
+see him. Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a good
+girl.”
+
+There was no reply, but a board creaked. He waited for what seemed a
+long time, and then the board creaked again.
+
+“Did you see him?” he inquired.
+
+“I did,” was the sharp reply. “You both ought to be ashamed of
+yourselves. You ought to be punished.”
+
+“There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head,” remarked Mr.
+Travers. “What are you going to do?”
+
+There was no reply.
+
+“What are you going to do?” repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat uneasily.
+“You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as I can judge
+through this crack.”
+
+There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody moving
+hastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily donned.
+
+“You ought to have done it before,” commented the thoughtful Mr.
+Travers. “It's enough to give you your death of cold.”
+
+“Mind your business,” said the voice, sharply. “Now, if I let you out,
+will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?”
+
+“Honour bright,” said Mr. Travers, fervently.
+
+“I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget,” proceeded the
+other, grimly. “I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down and
+tell him I've killed you.”
+
+“Eh?” said the amazed Mr. Travers. “Oh, Lord!”
+
+“H'sh! Stop that laughing,” commanded the voice. “He'll hear you. Be
+quiet!”
+
+The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped his
+hand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey. Mrs. Waters, stepping back
+with the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.
+
+“Come on to the landing,” said Mr. Travers, eagerly. “We don't want
+anybody else to hear. Fire into this.”
+
+He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against the
+balusters. “You stay here,” said Mrs. Waters. He nodded.
+
+She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with the
+explosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, she
+rushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, tottered
+outside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.
+
+“Oh! oh! oh!” she cried.
+
+“What—what's the matter?” gasped the boatswain.
+
+The widow struggled in his arms. “A burglar,” she said, in a tense
+whisper. “But it's all right; I've killed him.”
+
+“Kill—” stuttered the other. “Kill——Killed him?”
+
+Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, “First shot,” she said, with a
+satisfied air.
+
+The boatswain wrung his hands. “Good heavens!” he said, moving slowly
+towards the door. “Poor fellow!”
+
+“Come back,” said the widow, tugging at his coat.
+
+“I was—was going to see—whether I could do anything for 'im,” quavered
+the boatswain. “Poor fellow!”
+
+“You stay where you are,” commanded Mrs. Waters. “I don't want any
+witnesses. I don't want this house to have a bad name. I'm going to keep
+it quiet.”
+
+“Quiet?” said the shaking boatswain. “How?”
+
+“First thing to do,” said the widow, thoughtfully, “is to get rid of the
+body. I'll bury him in the garden, I think. There's a very good bit of
+ground behind those potatoes. You'll find the spade in the tool-house.”
+
+The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.
+
+“While you're digging the grave,” continued Mrs. 'Waters, calmly, “I'll
+go in and clean up the mess.”
+
+The boatswain reeled and then fumbled with trembling fingers at his
+collar.
+
+Like a man in a dream he stood watching as she ran to the tool-house and
+returned with a spade and pick; like a man in a dream he followed her on
+to the garden.
+
+“Be careful,” she said, sharply; “you're treading down my potatoes.”
+
+The boatswain stopped dead and stared at her. Apparently unconscious of
+his gaze, she began to pace out the measurements and then, placing the
+tools in his hands, urged him to lose no time.
+
+“I'll bring him down when you're gone,” she said, looking towards the
+house.
+
+The boatswain wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand. “How are
+you going to get it downstairs?” he breathed.
+
+“Drag it,” said Mrs. Waters, briefly.
+
+“Suppose he isn't dead?” said the boat-swain, with a gleam of hope.
+
+“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Waters. “Do you think I don't know? Now, don't
+waste time talking; and mind you dig it deep. I'll put a few cabbages on
+top afterwards—I've got more than I want.”
+
+She re-entered the house and ran lightly upstairs. The candle was still
+alight and the gun was leaning against the bed-post; but the visitor had
+disappeared. Conscious of an odd feeling of disappointment, she looked
+round the empty room.
+
+“Come and look at him,” entreated a voice, and she turned and beheld the
+amused countenance of her late prisoner at the door.
+
+“I've been watching from the back window,” he said, nodding. “You're a
+wonder; that's what you are. Come and look at him.”
+
+Mrs. Waters followed, and leaning out of the window watched with simple
+pleasure the efforts of the amateur sexton. Mr. Benn was digging like
+one possessed, only pausing at intervals to straighten his back and to
+cast a fearsome glance around him. The only thing that marred her
+pleasure was the behaviour of Mr. Travers, who was struggling for a
+place with all the fervour of a citizen at the Lord Mayor's show.
+
+“Get back,” she said, in a fierce whisper. “He'll see you.”
+
+Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim looked
+up.
+
+“Is that you, Mrs. Waters?” inquired the boatswain, fearfully.
+
+“Yes, of course it is,” snapped the widow. “Who else should it be, do
+you think? Go on! What are you stopping for?”
+
+Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctly
+audible. The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside the
+widow's. For a long time they watched in silence.
+
+“Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?” called the boatswain, looking
+up so suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully against the side
+of the window. “It's a bit creepy, all alone.”
+
+“I'm all right,” said Mrs. Waters.
+
+“I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant bushes,”
+pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely. “How you can stay there
+alone I can't think. I thought I saw something looking over your
+shoulder just now. Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught hold
+of you! The widow gave a sudden faint scream.
+
+“If you do that again!” she said, turning fiercely on Mr. Travers.
+
+“He put it into my head,” said the culprit, humbly; “I should never have
+thought of such a thing by myself. I'm one of the quietest and
+best-behaved——”
+
+“Make haste, Mr. Benn,” said the widow, turning to the window again;
+“I've got a lot to do when you've finished.”
+
+The boatswain groaned and fell to digging again, and Mrs. Waters, after
+watching a little while longer, gave Mr. Travers some pointed
+instructions about the window and went down to the garden again.
+
+“That will do, I think,” she said, stepping into the hole and regarding
+it critically. “Now you'd better go straight off home, and, mind, not a
+word to a soul about this.”
+
+She put her hand on his shoulder, and noticing with pleasure that he
+shuddered at her touch led the way to the gate. The boat-swain paused
+for a moment, as though about to speak, and then, apparently thinking
+better of it, bade her good-bye in a hoarse voice and walked feebly up
+the road. Mrs. Waters stood watching until his steps died away in the
+distance, and then, returning to the garden, took up the spade and stood
+regarding with some dismay the mountainous result of his industry. Mr.
+Travers, who was standing just inside the back door, joined her.
+
+“Let me,” he said, gallantly.
+
+The day was breaking as he finished his task. The clean, sweet air and
+the exercise had given him an appetite to which the smell of cooking
+bacon and hot coffee that proceeded from the house had set a sharper
+edge. He took his coat from a bush and put it on. Mrs. Waters appeared
+at the door.
+
+“You had better come in and have some breakfast before you go,” she
+said, brusquely; “there's no more sleep for me now.”
+
+Mr. Travers obeyed with alacrity, and after a satisfying wash in the
+scullery came into the big kitchen with his face shining and took a seat
+at the table. The cloth was neatly laid, and Mrs. Waters, fresh and
+cool, with a smile upon her pleasant face, sat behind the tray. She
+looked at her guest curiously, Mr. Travers's spirits being somewhat
+higher than the state of his wardrobe appeared to justify.
+
+“Why don't you get some settled work?” she inquired, with gentle
+severity, as he imparted snatches of his history between bites.
+
+“Easier said than done,” said Mr. Travers, serenely. “But don't you run
+away with the idea that I'm a beggar, because I'm not. I pay my way,
+such as it is. And, by-the-bye, I s'pose I haven't earned that two
+pounds Benn gave me?”
+
+His face lengthened, and he felt uneasily in his pocket.
+
+“I'll give them to him when I'm tired of the joke,” said the widow,
+holding out her hand and watching him closely.
+
+Mr. Travers passed the coins over to her. “Soft hand you've got,” he
+said, musingly. “I don't wonder Benn was desperate. I dare say I should
+have done the same in his place.”
+
+Mrs. Waters bit her lip and looked out at the window; Mr. Travers
+resumed his breakfast.
+
+“There's only one job that I'm really fit for, now that I'm too old for
+the Army,” he said, confidentially, as, breakfast finished, he stood at
+the door ready to depart.
+
+“Playing at burglars?” hazarded Mrs. Waters.
+
+“Landlord of a little country public-house,” said Mr. Travers, simply.
+
+Mrs. Waters fell back and regarded him with open-eyed amazement.
+
+“Good morning,” she said, as soon as she could trust her voice.
+
+“Good-bye,” said Mr. Travers, reluctantly. “I should like to hear how
+old Benn takes this joke, though.”
+
+Mrs. Waters retreated into the house and stood regarding him. “If you're
+passing this way again and like to look in—I'll tell you,” she said,
+after a long pause. “Good-bye.”
+
+“I'll look in in a week's time,” said Mr. Travers.
+
+He took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. “It would be the best
+joke of all,” he said, turning away.
+
+“What would?”
+
+The soldier confronted her again.
+
+“For old Benn to come round here one evening and find me landlord. Think
+it over.”
+
+Mrs. Waters met his gaze soberly. “I'll think it over when you have
+gone,” she said, softly. “Now go.”
+
+
+
+
+THE NEST EGG
+
+
+
+
+Artfulness,” said the night-watch-man, smoking placidly, “is a gift; but
+it don't pay always. I've met some artful ones in my time—plenty of 'em;
+but I can't truthfully say as 'ow any of them was the better for meeting
+me.”
+
+He rose slowly from the packing-case on which he had been sitting and,
+stamping down the point of a rusty nail with his heel, resumed his seat,
+remarking that he had endured it for some time under the impression that
+it was only a splinter.
+
+“I've surprised more than one in my time,” he continued, slowly. “When I
+met one of these 'ere artful ones I used fust of all to pretend to be
+more stupid than wot I really am.”
+
+He stopped and stared fixedly.
+
+“More stupid than I looked,” he said. He stopped again.
+
+“More stupid than wot they thought I looked,” he said, speaking with
+marked deliberation. And I'd let 'em go on and on until I thought I had
+'ad about enough, and then turn round on 'em. Nobody ever got the better
+o' me except my wife, and that was only before we was married. Two
+nights arterwards she found a fish-hook in my trouser-pocket, and arter
+that I could ha' left untold gold there—if I'd ha' had it. It spoilt wot
+some people call the honey-moon, but it paid in the long run.
+
+One o' the worst things a man can do is to take up artfulness all of a
+sudden. I never knew it to answer yet, and I can tell you of a case
+that'll prove my words true.
+
+It's some years ago now, and the chap it 'appened to was a young man, a
+shipmate o' mine, named Charlie Tagg. Very steady young chap he was, too
+steady for most of 'em. That's 'ow it was me and 'im got to be such
+pals.
+
+He'd been saving up for years to get married, and all the advice we
+could give 'im didn't 'ave any effect. He saved up nearly every penny of
+'is money and gave it to his gal to keep for 'im, and the time I'm
+speaking of she'd got seventy-two pounds of 'is and seventeen-and-six of
+'er own to set up house-keeping with.
+
+Then a thing happened that I've known to 'appen to sailormen afore. At
+Sydney 'e got silly on another gal, and started walking out with her,
+and afore he knew wot he was about he'd promised to marry 'er too.
+
+Sydney and London being a long way from each other was in 'is favour,
+but the thing that troubled 'im was 'ow to get that seventy-two pounds
+out of Emma Cook, 'is London gal, so as he could marry the other with
+it. It worried 'im all the way home, and by the time we got into the
+London river 'is head was all in a maze with it. Emma Cook 'ad got it
+all saved up in the bank, to take a little shop with when they got
+spliced, and 'ow to get it he could not think.
+
+He went straight off to Poplar, where she lived, as soon as the ship was
+berthed. He walked all the way so as to 'ave more time for thinking, but
+wot with bumping into two old gentlemen with bad tempers, and being
+nearly run over by a cabman with a white 'orse and red whiskers, he got
+to the house without 'aving thought of anything.
+
+They was just finishing their tea as 'e got there, and they all seemed
+so pleased to see 'im that it made it worse than ever for 'im. Mrs.
+Cook, who 'ad pretty near finished, gave 'im her own cup to drink out
+of, and said that she 'ad dreamt of 'im the night afore last, and old
+Cook said that he 'ad got so good-looking 'e shouldn't 'ave known him.
+
+“I should 'ave passed 'im in the street,” he ses. “I never see such an
+alteration.”
+
+“They'll be a nice-looking couple,” ses his wife, looking at a young
+chap, named George Smith, that 'ad been sitting next to Emma.
+
+Charlie Tagg filled 'is mouth with bread and butter, and wondered 'ow he
+was to begin. He squeezed Emma's 'and just for the sake of keeping up
+appearances, and all the time 'e was thinking of the other gal waiting
+for 'im thousands o' miles away.
+
+“You've come 'ome just in the nick o' time,” ses old Cook; “if you'd
+done it o' purpose you couldn't 'ave arranged it better.”
+
+“Somebody's birthday?” ses Charlie, trying to smile.
+
+Old Cook shook his 'ead. “Though mine is next Wednesday,” he ses, “and
+thank you for thinking of it. No; you're just in time for the biggest
+bargain in the chandlery line that anybody ever 'ad a chance of. If you
+'adn't ha' come back we should have 'ad to ha' done it without you.”
+
+“Eighty pounds,” ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Charlie. “With the money
+Emma's got saved and your wages this trip you'll 'ave plenty. You must
+come round arter tea and 'ave a look at it.”
+
+“Little place not arf a mile from 'ere,” ses old Cook. “Properly worked
+up, the way Emma'll do it, it'll be a little fortune. I wish I'd had a
+chance like it in my young time.”
+
+He sat shaking his 'ead to think wot he'd lost, and Charlie Tagg sat
+staring at 'im and wondering wot he was to do.
+
+“My idea is for Charlie to go for a few more v'y'ges arter they're
+married while Emma works up the business,” ses Mrs. Cook; “she'll be all
+right with young Bill and Sarah Ann to 'elp her and keep 'er company
+while he's away.”
+
+“We'll see as she ain't lonely,” ses George Smith, turning to Charlie.
+
+Charlie Tagg gave a bit of a cough and said it wanted considering. He
+said it was no good doing things in a 'urry and then repenting of 'em
+all the rest of your life. And 'e said he'd been given to understand
+that chandlery wasn't wot it 'ad been, and some of the cleverest people
+'e knew thought that it would be worse before it was better. By the time
+he'd finished they was all looking at 'im as though they couldn't
+believe their ears.
+
+“You just step round and 'ave a look at the place,” ses old Cook; “if
+that don't make you alter your tune, call me a sinner.”
+
+Charlie Tagg felt as though 'e could ha' called 'im a lot o' worse
+things than that, but he took up 'is hat and Mrs. Cook and Emma got
+their bonnets on and they went round.
+
+“I don't think much of it for eighty pounds,” ses Charlie, beginning his
+artfulness as they came near a big shop, with plate-glass and a double
+front.
+
+“Eh?” ses old Cook, staring at 'im. “Why, that ain't the place. Why, you
+wouldn't get that for eight 'undred.”
+
+“Well, I don't think much of it,” ses Charlie; “if it's worse than that
+I can't look at it—I can't, indeed.”
+
+“You ain't been drinking, Charlie?” ses old Cook, in a puzzled voice.
+
+“Certainly not,” ses Charlie.
+
+He was pleased to see 'ow anxious they all looked, and when they did
+come to the shop 'e set up a laugh that old Cook said chilled the marrer
+in 'is bones. He stood looking in a 'elpless sort o' way at his wife and
+Emma, and then at last he ses, “There it is; and a fair bargain at the
+price.”
+
+“I s'pose you ain't been drinking?” ses Charlie.
+
+“Wot's the matter with it?” ses Mrs. Cook flaring up.
+
+“Come inside and look at it,” ses Emma, taking 'old of his arm.
+
+“Not me,” ses Charlie, hanging back. “Why, I wouldn't take it at a
+gift.”
+
+He stood there on the kerbstone, and all they could do 'e wouldn't
+budge. He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and 'ad got a look
+about it he didn't like. They walked back 'ome like a funeral
+procession, and Emma 'ad to keep saying “H's!” in w'ispers to 'er mother
+all the way.
+
+“I don't know wot Charlie does want, I'm sure,” ses Mrs. Cook, taking
+off 'er bonnet as soon as she got indoors and pitching it on the chair
+he was just going to set down on.
+
+“It's so awk'ard,” ses old Cook, rubbing his 'cad. “Fact is, Charlie, we
+pretty near gave 'em to understand as we'd buy it.”
+
+“It's as good as settled,” ses Mrs. Cook, trembling all over with
+temper.
+
+“They won't settle till they get the money,” ses Charlie. “You may make
+your mind easy about that.”
+
+“Emma's drawn it all out of the bank ready,” ses old Cook, eager like.
+
+Charlie felt 'ot and cold all over. “I'd better take care of it,” he
+ses, in a trembling voice. “You might be robbed.”
+
+“So might you be,” ses Mrs. Cook. “Don't you worry; it's in a safe
+place.”
+
+“Sailormen are always being robbed,” ses George Smith, who 'ad been
+helping young Bill with 'is sums while they 'ad gone to look at the
+shop. “There's more sailormen robbed than all the rest put together.”
+
+“They won't rob Charlie,” ses Mrs. Cook, pressing 'er lips together.
+“I'll take care o' that.”
+
+Charlie tried to laugh, but 'e made such a queer noise that young Bill
+made a large blot on 'is exercise-book, and old Cook, wot was lighting
+his pipe, burnt 'is fingers through not looking wot 'e was doing.
+
+“You see,” ses Charlie, “if I was robbed, which ain't at all likely, it
+'ud only be me losing my own money; but if you was robbed of it you'd
+never forgive yourselves.”
+
+“I dessay I should get over it,” ses Mrs. Cook, sniffing. “I'd 'ave a
+try, at all events.”
+
+Charlie started to laugh agin, and old Cook, who had struck another
+match, blew it out and waited till he'd finished.
+
+“The whole truth is,” ses Charlie, looking round, “I've got something
+better to do with the money. I've got a chance offered me that'll make
+me able to double it afore you know where you are.”
+
+“Not afore I know where I am,” ses Mrs. Cook, with a laugh that was
+worse than Charlie's.
+
+“The chance of a lifetime,” ses Charlie, trying to keep 'is temper. “I
+can't tell you wot it is, because I've promised to keep it secret for a
+time. You'll be surprised when I do tell you.”
+
+“If I wait till then till I'm surprised,” ses Mrs. Cook, “I shall 'ave
+to wait a long time. My advice to you is to take that shop and ha' done
+with it.”
+
+Charlie sat there arguing all the evening, but it was no good, and the
+idea o' them people sitting there and refusing to let 'im have his own
+money pretty near sent 'im crazy. It was all 'e could do to kiss Emma
+good-night, and 'e couldn't have 'elped slamming the front door if he'd
+been paid for it. The only comfort he 'ad got left was the Sydney gal's
+photygraph, and he took that out and looked at it under nearly every
+lamp-post he passed.
+
+He went round the next night and 'ad an-other try to get 'is money, but
+it was no use; and all the good he done was to make Mrs. Cook in such a
+temper that she 'ad to go to bed before he 'ad arf finished. It was no
+good talking to old Cook and Emma, because they daren't do anything
+without 'er, and it was no good calling things up the stairs to her
+because she didn't answer. Three nights running Mrs. Cook went off to
+bed afore eight o'clock, for fear she should say something to 'im as
+she'd be sorry for arterwards; and for three nights Charlie made 'imself
+so disagreeable that Emma told 'im plain the sooner 'e went back to sea
+agin the better she should like it. The only one who seemed to enjoy it
+was George Smith, and 'e used to bring bits out o' newspapers and read
+to 'em, showing 'ow silly people was done out of their money.
+
+On the fourth night Charlie dropped it and made 'imself so amiable that
+Mrs. Cook stayed up and made 'im a Welsh rare-bit for 'is supper, and
+made 'im drink two glasses o' beer instead o' one, while old Cook sat
+and drank three glasses o' water just out of temper, and to show that 'e
+didn't mind. When she started on the chandler's shop agin Charlie said
+he'd think it over, and when 'e went away Mrs. Cook called 'im her
+sailor-boy and wished 'im pleasant dreams.
+
+But Charlie Tagg 'ad got better things to do than to dream, and 'e sat
+up in bed arf the night thinking out a new plan he'd thought of to get
+that money. When 'e did fall asleep at last 'e dreamt of taking a little
+farm in Australia and riding about on 'orseback with the Sydney gal
+watching his men at work.
+
+In the morning he went and hunted up a shipmate of 'is, a young feller
+named Jack Bates. Jack was one o' these 'ere chaps, nobody's enemy but
+their own, as the saying is; a good-'arted, free-'anded chap as you
+could wish to see. Everybody liked 'im, and the ship's cat loved 'im.
+He'd ha' sold the shirt off 'is back to oblige a pal, and three times in
+one week he got 'is face scratched for trying to prevent 'usbands
+knocking their wives about.
+
+Charlie Tagg went to 'im because he was the only man 'e could trust, and
+for over arf an hour he was telling Jack Bates all 'is troubles, and at
+last, as a great favour, he let 'im see the Sydney gal's photygraph, and
+told him that all that pore gal's future 'appiness depended upon 'im.
+
+“I'll step round to-night and rob 'em of that seventy-two pounds,” ses
+Jack; “it's your money, and you've a right to it.”
+
+Charlie shook his 'ead. “That wouldn't do,” he ses; “besides, I don't
+know where they keep it. No; I've got a better plan than that. Come
+round to the Crooked Billet, so as we can talk it over in peace and
+quiet.”
+
+He stood Jack three or four arf-pints afore 'e told 'im his plan, and
+Jack was so pleased with it that he wanted to start at once, but Charlie
+persuaded 'im to wait.
+
+“And don't you spare me, mind, out o' friendship,” ses Charlie, “because
+the blacker you paint me the better I shall like it.”
+
+“You trust me, mate,” ses Jack Bates; “if I don't get that seventy-two
+pounds for you, you may call me a Dutchman. Why, it's fair robbery, I
+call it, sticking to your money like that.”
+
+They spent the rest o' the day together, and when evening came Charlie
+went off to the Cooks'. Emma 'ad arf expected they was going to a
+theayter that night, but Charlie said he wasn't feeling the thing, and
+he sat there so quiet and miserable they didn't know wot to make of 'im.
+
+“'Ave you got any trouble on your mind, Charlie,” ses Mrs. Cook, “or is
+it the tooth-ache?”
+
+“It ain't the toothache,” ses Charlie.
+
+He sat there pulling a long face and staring at the floor, but all Mrs.
+Cook and Emma could do 'e wouldn't tell them wot was the matter with
+'im. He said 'e didn't want to worry other people with 'is troubles; let
+everybody bear their own, that was 'is motto. Even when George Smith
+offered to go to the theayter with Emma instead of 'im he didn't fire
+up, and, if it 'adn't ha' been for Mrs. Cook, George wouldn't ha' been
+sorry that 'e spoke.
+
+“Theayters ain't for me,” ses Charlie, with a groan. “I'm more likely to
+go to gaol, so far as I can see, than a theayter.”
+
+Mrs. Cook and Emma both screamed and Sarah Ann did 'er first
+highstericks, and very well, too, considering that she 'ad only just
+turned fifteen.
+
+“Gaol!” ses old Cook, as soon as they 'ad quieted Sarah Ann with a bowl
+o' cold water that young Bill 'ad the presence o' mind to go and fetch.
+“Gaol! What for?”
+
+“You wouldn't believe if I was to tell you.” ses Charlie, getting up to
+go, “and besides, I don't want any of you to think as 'ow I am worse
+than wot I am.”
+
+He shook his 'cad at them sorrowful-like, and afore they could stop 'im
+he 'ad gone. Old Cook shouted arter 'im, but it was no use, and the
+others was running into the scullery to fill the bowl agin for Emma.
+
+Mrs. Cook went round to 'is lodgings next morning, but found that 'e was
+out. They began to fancy all sorts o' things then, but Charlie turned up
+agin that evening more miserable than ever.
+
+“I went round to see you this morning,” ses Mrs. Cook, “but you wasn't
+at 'ome.”
+
+“I never am, 'ardly,” ses Charlie. “I can't be—it ain't safe.”
+
+“Why not?” ses Mrs. Cook, fidgeting.
+
+“If I was to tell you, you'd lose your good opinion of me,” ses Charlie.
+
+“It wouldn't be much to lose,” ses Mrs. Cook, firing up.
+
+Charlie didn't answer 'er. When he did speak he spoke to the old man,
+and he was so down-'arted that 'e gave 'im the chills a'most, He 'ardly
+took any notice of Emma, and, when Mrs. Cook spoke about the shop agin,
+said that chandlers' shops was for happy people, not for 'im.
+
+By the time they sat down to supper they was nearly all as miserable as
+Charlie 'imself. From words he let drop they all seemed to 'ave the idea
+that the police was arter 'im, and Mrs. Cook was just asking 'im for wot
+she called the third and last time, but wot was more likely the hundred
+and third, wot he'd done, when there was a knock at the front door, so
+loud and so sudden that old Cook and young Bill both cut their mouths at
+the same time.
+
+“Anybody 'ere o' the name of Emma Cook?” ses a man's voice, when young
+Bill opened the door.
+
+“She's inside,” ses the boy, and the next moment Jack Bates followed 'im
+into the room, and then fell back with a start as 'e saw Charlie Tagg.
+
+“Ho, 'ere you are, are you?” he ses, looking at 'im very black. “Wot's
+the matter?” ses Mrs. Cook, very sharp.
+
+“I didn't expect to 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you 'ere, my lad,” ses
+Jack, still staring at Charlie, and twisting 'is face up into awful
+scowls. “Which is Emma Cook?”
+
+“Miss Cook is my name,” ses Emma, very sharp. “Wot d'ye want?”
+
+“Very good,” ses Jack Bates, looking at Charlie agin; “then p'r'aps
+you'll do me the kindness of telling that lie o' yours agin afore this
+young lady.”
+
+“It's the truth,” ses Charlie, looking down at 'is plate.
+
+“If somebody don't tell me wot all this is about in two minutes, I shall
+do something desprit,” ses Mrs. Cook, getting up.
+
+“This 'ere—er—man,” ses Jack Bates, pointing at Charlie, “owes me
+seventy-five pounds and won't pay. When I ask 'im for it he ses a party
+he's keeping company with, by the name of Emma Cook, 'as got it, and he
+can't get it.”
+
+“So she has,” ses Charlie, without looking up.
+
+“Wot does 'e owe you the money for?” ses Mrs. Cook.
+
+“'Cos I lent it to 'im,” ses Jack.
+
+“Lent it? What for?” ses Mrs. Cook.
+
+“'Cos I was a fool, I s'pose,” ses jack Bates; “a good-natured fool.
+Anyway, I'm sick and tired of asking for it, and if I don't get it
+to-night I'm going to see the police about it.”
+
+He sat down on a chair with 'is hat cocked over one eye, and they all
+sat staring at 'im as though they didn't know wot to say next.
+
+“So this is wot you meant when you said you'd got the chance of a
+lifetime, is it?” ses Mrs. Cook to Charlie. “This is wot you wanted it
+for, is it? Wot did you borrow all that money for?”
+
+“Spend,” ses Charlie, in a sulky voice.
+
+“Spend!” ses Mrs. Cook, with a scream; “wot in?”
+
+“Drink and cards mostly,” ses Jack Bates, remembering wot Charlie 'ad
+told 'im about blackening 'is character.
+
+You might ha' heard a pin drop a'most, and Charlie sat there without
+saying a word.
+
+“Charlie's been led away,” ses Mrs. Cook, looking 'ard at Jack Bates. “I
+s'pose you lent 'im the money to win it back from 'im at cards, didn't
+you?”
+
+“And gave 'im too much licker fust,” ses old Cook. “I've 'eard of your
+kind. If Charlie takes my advice 'e won't pay you a farthing. I should
+let you do your worst if I was 'im; that's wot I should do. You've got a
+low face; a nasty, ugly, low face.”
+
+“One o' the worst I ever see,” ses Mrs. Cook. “It looks as though it
+might ha' been cut out o' the Police News.”
+
+“'Owever could you ha' trusted a man with a face like that, Charlie?”
+ses old Cook. “Come away from 'im, Bill; I don't like such a chap in the
+room.”
+
+Jack Bates began to feel very awk'ard. They was all glaring at 'im as
+though they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such treatment. And, as
+a matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face.
+
+“You go out o' that door,” ses old Cook, pointing to it. “Go and do your
+worst. You won't get any money 'ere.”
+
+“Stop a minute,” ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ran
+upstairs. Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in the
+bedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh and
+looking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt.
+
+“How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?” she ses.
+
+Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets took out
+about a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given 'im for I O
+U's. Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel on the table.
+
+“There's your money,” she ses; “take it and go.”
+
+Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.
+
+“There's seventy-two pounds there,” ses Emma, who was very pale; “and
+'ere's a ring you can have to 'elp make up the rest.” And she drew
+Charlie's ring off and throwed it on the table. “I've done with 'im for
+good,” she ses, with a look at 'er mother.
+
+Jack Bates took up the money and the ring and stood there looking at 'er
+and trying to think wot to say. He'd always been uncommon partial to the
+sex, and it did seem 'ard to stand there and take all that on account of
+Charlie Tagg.
+
+“I only wanted my own,” he ses, at last, shuffling about the floor.
+
+“Well, you've got it,” ses Mrs. Cook, “and now you can go.”
+
+“You're pi'soning the air of my front parlour,” ses old Cook, opening
+the winder a little at the top.
+
+“P'r'aps I ain't so bad as you think I am,” ses Jack Bates, still
+looking at Emma, and with that 'e walked over to Charlie and dumped down
+the money on the table in front of 'im. “Take it,” he ses, “and don't
+borrow any more. I make you a free gift of it. P'r'aps my 'art ain't as
+black as my face,” he ses, turning to Mrs. Cook.
+
+They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but old Cook
+smiled at 'im and put the winder up agin. And Charlie Tagg sat there arf
+mad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack Bates without any
+salt, as the saying is.
+
+“I—I can't take it,” he ses at last, with a stammer.
+
+“Can't take it? Why not?” ses old Cook, staring. “This gentleman 'as
+given it to you.” “A free gift,” ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jack very
+sweet.
+
+“I can't take it,” ses Charlie, winking at Jack to take the money up and
+give it to 'im quiet, as arranged. “I 'ave my pride.”
+
+“So 'ave I,” ses Jack. “Are you going to take it?”
+
+Charlie gave another look. “No,” he ses, “I cant take a favour. I
+borrowed the money and I'll pay it back.
+
+“Very good,” ses Jack, taking it up. “It's my money, ain't it?”
+
+“Yes,” ses Charlie, taking no notice of Mrs. Cook and 'er husband, wot
+was both talking to 'im at once, and trying to persuade 'im to alter his
+mind.
+
+“Then I give it to Miss Emma Cook,” ses Jack Bates, putting it into her
+hands. “Good-night everybody and good luck.”
+
+He slammed the front door behind 'im and they 'eard 'im go off down the
+road as if 'e was going for fire-engines. Charlie sat there for a moment
+struck all of a heap, and then 'e jumped up and dashed arter 'im. He
+just saw 'im disappearing round a corner, and he didn't see 'im agin for
+a couple o' year arterwards, by which time the Sydney gal had 'ad three
+or four young men arter 'im, and Emma, who 'ad changed her name to
+Smith, was doing one o' the best businesses in the chandlery line in
+Poplar.
+
+
+
+
+THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched
+on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the
+table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her
+half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
+
+“Come away, I tell you,” he called. “D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be
+locked up if you don't.”
+
+He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in
+his mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife
+as she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture
+which was being carried in next door.
+
+“Come away or else you'll be locked up,” repeated Mr. Grummit. “You
+mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law.”
+
+Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds,
+stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with
+bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal
+supervision of Police-Constable Evans.
+
+“They'll be 'aving a pianner next,” said the indignant Mr. Grummit,
+peering from the depths of the room.
+
+“They've got one,” responded his wife; “there's the end if it stickin'
+up in the van.”
+
+Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. “Did you throw all
+them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?” he
+demanded.
+
+“He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs,” replied his wife. “I
+'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things.”
+
+“That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners,” said the incensed Mr.
+Grummit, “sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw
+good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?”
+
+Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal
+entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow
+footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points,
+and Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords.
+
+“Showing off,” explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; “and she's got
+fingers like carrots.”
+
+“It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in
+it,” said the indignant Grummit; “and to come and live next to me!—
+that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man wot
+has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd go in
+and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere long,
+you take my word for it.”
+
+“Why not?” inquired his wife.
+
+“Why?” repeated Mr. Grummit. “Why? Why, becos I'll make the place too
+'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im
+a-coming and living next door to me?”
+
+For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head
+worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad. The day after
+the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he
+recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled
+backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity. They sometimes made
+as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened
+to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying
+his bootlace. Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans,
+who had come out to admire the sunset.
+
+“I heard something fall,” said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously.
+
+“You threw it,” said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously.
+
+“Me? Nonsense,” said the other, easily. “I was having tea in the parlour
+with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his young
+lady.”
+
+“Any more of 'em?” demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list
+of witnesses for an alibi.
+
+“It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly,” said the constable.
+“I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it.
+It'll hold enough water for your wants.”
+
+Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting
+impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went
+off to discuss affairs with his intimates at the Bricklayers' Arms. The
+company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be
+boiled, were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such
+a desirable end was to be attained.
+
+“Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing,” said an elderly
+labourer. “The police don't like being laughed at.”
+
+“'Ow?” demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity.
+
+“There's plenty o' ways,” said the old man.
+
+“I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back,
+I know.”
+
+Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced
+by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back still ached,
+but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could
+imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain
+risk of hard labour for himself.
+
+He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins—to the
+secret disappointment of Mr. Evans—remained untouched in his yard. For
+the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed
+it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him.
+
+“I've been talking to old Bill Smith,” he said, suddenly, as he came in
+one night.
+
+Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was
+looking almost cheerful.
+
+“He's given me a tip,” said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; “a copper
+mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited.”
+
+“Wot of it?” inquired his wife. “You wasn't think of asking him in, was
+you?”
+
+Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. “If a copper comes in
+without being told to,” he continued, “he gets into trouble for it. Now
+d'ye see?”
+
+“But he won't come,” said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit.
+
+Mr. Grummit winked. “Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough,” he
+retorted. “Where's the copper-stick?”
+
+“Have you gone mad?” demanded his wife, “or do you think I 'ave?”
+
+“You go up into the bedroom,” said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks
+with his forefinger. “I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the
+copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and
+things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about
+that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your life—I'll leave the door
+on the latch—and there you are. He's sure to get into trouble for it.
+Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort o' thing.”
+
+Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to
+lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched
+the weapon in question.
+
+“And you be careful what you're hitting,” she said, as they went
+upstairs to bed. “We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?”
+
+“You pitch into me with your tongue,” said Mr. Grummit, amiably.
+
+Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his
+wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied,
+and in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr.
+Grummit things that had been rankling in her mind for some months. She
+raked up misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not
+content with that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning
+with her mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister.
+The hand that held the copper-stick itched.
+
+“Any more to say?” demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her.
+
+Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly
+remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with
+extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts
+of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband.
+
+“I can hear 'im moving,” whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath.
+
+“Mur—der!” wailed his wife. “Help! Help!”
+
+Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack;
+Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary
+relief in moans.
+
+“Is—he——deaf?” panted the wife-beater, “or wot?”
+
+He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied
+scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall.
+
+“Hel—lp!” moaned Mrs. Grummit.
+
+“Halloa, there!” came the voice of the constable. “Why don't you keep
+that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep.”
+
+Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his
+wife.
+
+“He—he's afraid—to come in,” he gasped. “Keep it up, old gal.”
+
+He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart
+had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as
+hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang.
+
+“Here he is,” cried the jubilant Grummit. “Now!”
+
+His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung
+open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on
+the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr.
+Grummit sprawling.
+
+“Hit my sister, will you?” he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose.
+“Take that!”
+
+Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging
+at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however, until Mr.
+Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise
+that she could make herself heard.
+
+“Joke?” repeated her brother, incredulously. “Joke?”
+
+Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained.
+
+Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to
+mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured
+Grummit only added to his distress.
+
+“Best joke I ever heard in my life,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Don't
+look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it.”
+
+“Get off 'ome,” responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him.
+
+“There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open,” said
+the other. “Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long.”
+
+He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the
+window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours
+outside. Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say
+what he had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the
+window, and in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the
+night. Even the sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as
+she got into bed failed to move him.
+
+“The bed's broke, Bob,” she said faintly.
+
+“Beds won't last for ever,” he said, shortly; “sleep on the floor.”
+
+Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the
+bedclothes and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time
+she was fast asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in
+devising further impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe
+next door.
+
+He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The
+constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit
+felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass.
+
+“I heard you last night,” said the constable, playfully. “My word! Good
+gracious!”
+
+“Wot's the matter with you?” demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short.
+
+The constable stared at him. “She has been knocking you about,” he
+gasped. “Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it sounded
+loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? I
+should be pleased to take her.”
+
+Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. “Wot would it cost if I
+set about you?” he demanded, huskily.
+
+“Two months,” said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; “p'r'aps three.”
+
+Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable,
+lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile.
+“That would be besides what you'd get from me,” he said, softly.
+
+“Come out in the road,” said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence.
+
+“It's agin the rules,” said Mr. Evans; “sorry I can't. Why not go and
+ask your wife's brother to oblige you?”
+
+He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a
+frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such
+acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer
+to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the day he
+spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious
+inquiries of his fellow-workmen.
+
+He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to
+give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed
+on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door,
+which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up “The Last Rose of Summer”
+note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was
+Mr. Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac.
+
+“Nothing like it,” said the constable, looking up. “Your missus gave 'em
+to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you are.”
+
+He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring
+in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub
+and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try
+and cultivate a garden.
+
+The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back
+window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and
+calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He could
+not sleep for thinking of them.
+
+He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit
+that Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to
+his work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had
+lifted, and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in front
+windows added to his good humour.
+
+He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but
+some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the
+Brick-layers' firms instead. He stayed there until closing time, and
+then, being still disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who
+lived the other side of Tunwich. By the time he started for home it was
+nearly midnight.
+
+The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness. The
+clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just
+dying away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man
+he had been trying to avoid.
+
+“Halloa!” said Constable Evans, sharply. “Here, I want a word with you.”
+
+Mr. Grummit quailed. “With me, sir?” he said, with involuntary respect.
+
+“What have you been doing to my flowers?” demanded the other, hotly.
+
+“Flowers?” repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him.
+“Flowers? What flowers?”
+
+“You know well enough,” retorted the constable. “You got over my fence
+last night and smashed all my flowers down.”
+
+“You be careful wot you're saying,” urged Mr. Grummit. “Why, I love
+flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot
+you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?”
+
+“You know all about it,” said the constable, choking. “I shall take out
+a summons against you for it.”
+
+“Ho!” said Mr. Grummit. “And wot time do you say it was when I done it?”
+
+“Never you mind the time,” said the other.
+
+“Cos it's important,” said Mr. Grummit.
+
+“My wife's brother—the one you're so fond of—slept in my 'ouse last
+night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it,
+it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence.”
+
+“If I wasn't a policeman,” said Mr. Evans, speaking with great
+deliberation, “I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the
+biggest hiding you've ever had in your life.”
+
+“If you wasn't a policeman,” said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, “I'd arf
+murder you.”
+
+The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part.
+
+“If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble,” said the
+constable.
+
+“If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod,”
+sighed Mr. Grummit.
+
+“I wouldn't put you there,” said the constable, earnestly; “I swear I
+wouldn't.”
+
+“Everything's beautiful and quiet,” said Mr. Grummit, trembling with
+eagerness, “and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my solemn
+davit I wouldn't.”
+
+“When I think o' my garden—” began the constable. With a sudden movement
+he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the coat,
+began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an eye they had
+closed.
+
+Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit,
+forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The
+constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn
+and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a
+fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet,
+tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic
+on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back—awed, despite himself.
+
+“It was a fair fight,” he stammered.
+
+The constable waved him away. “Get out o' my sight before I change my
+mind,” he said, fiercely; “and mind, if you say a word about this it'll
+be the worse for you.”
+
+“Do you think I've gone mad?” said the other. He took another look at
+his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home.
+The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages.
+
+They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the
+lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of
+a prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a
+thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up
+and placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his
+ear.
+
+He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the
+direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries
+of “Police!” became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and
+turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of
+a large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards
+them. The constable arrived out of breath.
+
+“Better late than never,” said the owner of the house, sarcastically.
+
+Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the
+fence.
+
+“They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them,” continued the
+householder. “Halloa!” he added, as somebody opened the hall door and
+the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. “Are
+you hurt?”
+
+“Yes,” said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain
+time he blew a loud call on his whistle.
+
+“The rascals!” continued the other. “I think I should know the big chap
+with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me.”
+
+Mr. Evans blew his whistle again—thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed
+too good to lose.
+
+“Did they get anything?” he inquired.
+
+“Not a thing,” said the owner, triumphantly. “I was disturbed just in
+time.”
+
+The constable gave a slight gulp. “I saw the three running by the side
+of the road,” he said, slowly. “Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I
+collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats. They had me
+down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb,
+and when I came to my senses again they had gone.”
+
+He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of
+sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and a constable,
+both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them.
+
+“Get back to the station and make your report,” said the former, as
+Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story.
+“You've done your best; I can see that.”
+
+Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped
+painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make
+good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was
+at least equal to that of three burglars.
+
+He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head
+dressed, was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or
+two. He was off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having
+devoted a column to the affair, headed “A Gallant Constable,” modestly
+secluded himself from the public gaze for the whole of that time.
+
+To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have
+repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying. The
+constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed. Once Mr.
+Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour
+window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind. It
+was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight
+of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he
+might escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence
+before the latter was aware of his presence.
+
+“Wot about that 'ere burglary?” he demanded in truculent tones.
+
+“Good evening, Grummit,” said the constable, with a patronizing air.
+
+“Wot about that burglary?” repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl. “I don't
+believe you ever saw a burglar.”
+
+Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. “You'd better run
+indoors, my good man,” he said, slowly.
+
+“Telling all them lies about burglars,” continued the indignant Mr.
+Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. “Why, I gave you that
+black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I——”
+
+“You've been drinking,” said the other, severely.
+
+“You mean to say I didn't?” demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously.
+
+Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. “I don't know what you're
+talking about,” he said, calmly.
+
+Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood.
+
+“Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars,”
+continued the constable, “why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure.
+Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices.”
+
+Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of
+yards and breathed heavily.
+
+“About your height, too, he was,” mused the constable. “I hope for your
+sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just
+now.”
+
+Mr. Grummit shook his head. “Not a word,” he faltered.
+
+“That's all right, then,” said Mr. Evans. “I shouldn't like to be hard
+on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer.”
+
+Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to
+a feeble “Oh!”
+
+“No,” said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. “It ain't good enough
+for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A sergeant can't
+live in a common place like this.”
+
+Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again. “A—
+a sergeant?” he stammered.
+
+Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. “For my bravery
+with them burglars the other night, Grummit,” he said, modestly. “I
+might have waited years if it hadn't been for them.”
+
+He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without
+any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house.
+
+
+
+
+BOB'S REDEMPTION
+
+
+
+
+GRATITOODE!” said the night-watchman, with a hard laugh. “Hmf! Don't
+talk to me about gratitoode; I've seen too much of it. If people wot
+I've helped in my time 'ad only done arf their dooty—arf, mind you—I
+should be riding in my carriage.”
+
+Forgetful of the limitations of soap-boxes he attempted to illustrate
+his remark by lolling, and nearly went over backwards. Recovering
+himself by an effort he gazed sternly across the river and smoked
+fiercely. It was evident that he was brooding over an ill-used past.
+
+'Arry Thomson was one of them, he said, at last. For over six months I
+wrote all 'is love-letters for him, 'e being an iggernerant sort of man
+and only being able to do the kisses at the end, which he always
+insisted on doing 'imself: being jealous. Only three weeks arter he was
+married 'e come up to where I was standing one day and set about me
+without saying a word. I was a single man at the time and I didn't
+understand it. My idea was that he 'ad gone mad, and, being pretty
+artful and always 'aving a horror of mad people, I let 'im chase me into
+a police-station. Leastways, I would ha' let 'im, but he didn't come,
+and I all but got fourteen days for being drunk and disorderly.
+
+Then there was Bill Clark. He 'ad been keeping comp'ny with a gal and
+got tired of it, and to oblige 'im I went to her and told 'er he was a
+married man with five children. Bill was as pleased as Punch at fust,
+but as soon as she took up with another chap he came round to see me and
+said as I'd ruined his life. We 'ad words about it—naturally—and I did
+ruin it then to the extent of a couple o' ribs. I went to see 'im in the
+horsepittle—place I've always been fond of—and the langwidge he used to
+me was so bad that they sent for the Sister to 'ear it.
+
+That's on'y two out of dozens I could name. Arf the unpleasantnesses in
+my life 'ave come out of doing kindnesses to people, and all the
+gratitoode I've 'ad for it I could put in a pint-pot with a pint o' beer
+already in it.
+
+The only case o' real gratitoode I ever heard of 'appened to a shipmate
+o' mine—a young chap named Bob Evans. Coming home from Auckland in a
+barque called the Dragon Fly he fell overboard, and another chap named
+George Crofts, one o' the best swimmers I ever knew, went overboard
+arter 'im and saved his life.
+
+We was hardly moving at the time, and the sea was like a duck pond, but
+to 'ear Bob Evans talk you'd ha' thought that George Crofts was the
+bravest-'arted chap that ever lived. He 'adn't liked him afore, same as
+the rest of us, George being a sly, mean sort o' chap; but arter George
+'ad saved his life 'e couldn't praise 'im enough. He said that so long
+as he 'ad a crust George should share it, and wotever George asked 'im
+he should have.
+
+The unfortnit part of it was that George took 'im at his word, and all
+the rest of the v'y'ge he acted as though Bob belonged to 'im, and by
+the time we got into the London river Bob couldn't call his soul 'is
+own. He used to take a room when he was ashore and live very steady, as
+'e was saving up to get married, and as soon as he found that out George
+invited 'imself to stay with him.
+
+“It won't cost you a bit more,” he ses, “not if you work it properly.”
+
+Bob didn't work it properly, but George having saved his life, and never
+letting 'im forget it, he didn't like to tell him so. He thought he'd
+let 'im see gradual that he'd got to be careful because of 'is gal, and
+the fust evening they was ashore 'e took 'im along with 'im there to
+tea.
+
+Gerty Mitchell—that was the gal's name—'adn't heard of Bob's accident,
+and when she did she gave a little scream, and putting 'er arms round
+his neck, began to kiss 'im right in front of George and her mother.
+
+“You ought to give him one too,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, pointing to George.
+
+George wiped 'is mouth on the back of his 'and, but Gerty pretended not
+to 'ear.
+
+“Fancy if you'd been drownded!” she ses, hugging Bob agin.
+
+“He was pretty near,” ses George, shaking his 'ead. “I'm a pore swimmer,
+but I made up my mind either to save 'im or else go down to a watery
+grave myself.”
+
+He wiped his mouth on the back of his 'and agin, but all the notice
+Gerty took of it was to send her young brother Ted out for some beer.
+Then they all 'ad supper together, and Mrs. Mitchell drank good luck to
+George in a glass o' beer, and said she 'oped that 'er own boy would
+grow up like him. “Let 'im grow up a good and brave man, that's all I
+ask,” she ses. “I don't care about 'is looks.”
+
+“He might have both,” ses George, sharp-like. “Why not?”
+
+Mrs. Mitchell said she supposed he might, and then she cuffed young
+Ted's ears for making a noise while 'e was eating, and then cuffed 'im
+agin for saying that he'd finished 'is supper five minutes ago.
+
+George and Bob walked 'ome together, and all the way there George said
+wot a pretty gal Gerty was and 'ow lucky it was for Bob that he 'adn't
+been drownded. He went round to tea with 'im the next day to Mrs.
+Mitchell's, and arter tea, when Bob and Gerty said they was going out to
+spend the evening together, got 'imself asked too.
+
+They took a tram-car and went to a music-hall, and Bob paid for the
+three of 'em. George never seemed to think of putting his 'and in his
+pocket, and even arter the music-hall, when they all went into a shop
+and 'ad stewed eels, he let Bob pay.
+
+As I said afore, Bob Evans was chock-full of gratefulness, and it seemed
+only fair that he shouldn't grumble at spending a little over the man
+wot 'ad risked 'is life to save his; but wot with keeping George at his
+room, and paying for 'im every time they went out, he was spending a lot
+more money than 'e could afford.
+
+“You're on'y young once, Bob,” George said to him when 'e made a remark
+one arternoon as to the fast way his money was going, “and if it hadn't
+ha' been for me you'd never 'ave lived to grow old.”
+
+Wot with spending the money and always 'aving George with them when they
+went out, it wasn't long afore Bob and Gerty 'ad a quarrel. “I don't
+like a pore-spirited man,” she ses. “Two's company and three's none,
+and, besides, why can't he pay for 'imself? He's big enough. Why should
+you spend your money on 'im? He never pays a farthing.”
+
+Bob explained that he couldn't say anything because 'e owed his life to
+George, but 'e might as well 'ave talked to a lamp-post. The more he
+argued the more angry Gerty got, and at last she ses, “Two's company and
+three's none, and if you and me can't go out without George Crofts, then
+me and 'im 'll go out with-out you.”
+
+She was as good as her word, too, and the next night, while Bob 'ad gone
+out to get some 'bacca, she went off alone with George. It was ten
+o'clock afore they came back agin, and Gerty's eyes were all shining and
+'er cheeks as pink as roses. She shut 'er mother up like a concertina
+the moment she began to find fault with 'er, and at supper she sat next
+to George and laughed at everything 'e said.
+
+George and Bob walked all the way 'ome arter supper without saying a
+word, but arter they got to their room George took a side-look at Bob,
+and then he ses, suddenlike, “Look 'ere! I saved your life, didn't I?”
+
+“You did,” ses Bob, “and I thank you for it.”
+
+“I saved your life,” ses George agin, very solemn. “If it hadn't ha'
+been for me you couldn't ha' married anybody.”
+
+“That's true,” ses Bob.
+
+“Me and Gerty 'ave been having a talk,” ses George, bending down to undo
+his boots. “We've been getting on very well together; you can't 'elp
+your feelings, and the long and the short of it is, the pore gal has
+fallen in love with me.”
+
+Bob didn't say a word.
+
+“If you look at it this way it's fair enough,” ses George. “I gave you
+your life and you give me your gal. We're quits now. You don't owe me
+anything and I don't owe you anything. That's the way Gerty puts it, and
+she told me to tell you so.”
+
+“If—if she don't want me I'm agreeable,” ses Bob, in a choking voice.
+“We'll call it quits, and next time I tumble overboard I 'ope you won't
+be handy.”
+
+He took Gerty's photygraph out of 'is box and handed it to George.
+“You've got more right to it now than wot I 'ave,” he ses. “I shan't go
+round there any more; I shall look out for a ship to-morrow.”
+
+George Crofts said that perhaps it was the best thing he could do, and
+'e asked 'im in a offhand sort o' way 'ow long the room was paid up for.
+
+Mrs. Mitchell 'ad a few words to say about it next day, but Gerty told
+'er to save 'er breath for walking upstairs. The on'y thing that George
+didn't like when they went out was that young Ted was with them, but
+Gerty said she preferred it till she knew 'im better; and she 'ad so
+much to say about his noble behaviour in saving life that George gave
+way. They went out looking at the shops, George thinking that that was
+the cheapest way of spending an evening, and they were as happy as
+possible till Gerty saw a brooch she liked so much in a window that he
+couldn't get 'er away.
+
+“It is a beauty,” she ses. “I don't know when I've seen a brooch I liked
+better. Look here! Let's all guess the price and then go in and see
+who's right.”
+
+They 'ad their guesses, and then they went in and asked, and as soon as
+Gerty found that it was only three-and-sixpence she began to feel in her
+pocket for 'er purse, just like your wife does when you go out with 'er,
+knowing all the time that it's on the mantelpiece with twopence-ha'penny
+and a cough lozenge in it.
+
+“I must ha' left it at 'ome,” she ses, looking at George.
+
+“Just wot I've done,” ses George, arter patting 'is pockets.
+
+Gerty bit 'er lips and, for a minute or two, be civil to George she
+could not. Then she gave a little smile and took 'is arm agin, and they
+walked on talking and laughing till she turned round of a sudden and
+asked a big chap as was passing wot 'e was shoving 'er for.
+
+“Shoving you?” ses he. “Wot do you think I want to shove you for?”
+
+“Don't you talk to me,” ses Gerty, firing up. “George, make 'im beg my
+pardon.”
+
+“You ought to be more careful,” ses George, in a gentle sort o' way.
+
+“Make 'im beg my pardon,” ses Gerty, stamping 'er foot; “if he don't,
+knock 'im down.”
+
+“Yes, knock 'im down,” ses the big man, taking hold o' George's cap and
+rumpling his 'air.
+
+Pore George, who was never much good with his fists, hit 'im in the
+chest, and the next moment he was on 'is back in the middle o' the road
+wondering wot had 'appened to 'im. By the time 'e got up the other man
+was arf a mile away; and young Ted stepped up and wiped 'im down with a
+pocket-'andkerchief while Gerty explained to 'im 'ow she saw 'im slip on
+a piece o' banana peel.
+
+“It's 'ard lines,” she ses; “but never mind, you frightened 'im away,
+and I don't wonder at it. You do look terrible when you're angry,
+George; I didn't know you.”
+
+She praised 'im all the way 'ome, and if it 'adn't been for his mouth
+and nose George would 'ave enjoyed it more than 'e did. She told 'er
+mother how 'e had flown at a big man wot 'ad insulted her, and Mrs.
+Mitchell shook her 'ead at 'im and said his bold spirit would lead 'im
+into trouble afore he 'ad done.
+
+They didn't seem to be able to make enough of 'im, and next day when he
+went round Gerty was so upset at the sight of 'is bruises that he
+thought she was going to cry. When he had 'ad his tea she gave 'im a
+cigar she had bought for 'im herself, and when he 'ad finished smoking
+it she smiled at him, and said that she was going to take 'im out for a
+pleasant evening to try and make up to 'im for wot he 'ad suffered for
+'er.
+
+“We're all going to stand treat to each other,” she ses. “Bob always
+would insist on paying for everything, but I like to feel a bit
+independent. Give and take—that's the way I like to do things.”
+
+“There's nothing like being independent,” ses George. “Bob ought to ha'
+known that.”
+
+“I'm sure it's the best plan,” ses Gerty. “Now, get your 'at on. We're
+going to a theayter, and Ted shall pay the 'bus fares.”
+
+George wanted to ask about the theayter, but 'e didn't like to, and
+arter Gerty was dressed they went out and Ted paid the 'bus fares like a
+man.
+
+“Here you are,” ses Gerty, as the 'bus stopped outside the theayter.
+“Hurry up and get the tickets, George; ask for three upper circles.”
+
+She bustled George up to the pay place, and as soon as she 'ad picked
+out the seats she grabbed 'old of the tickets and told George to make
+haste.
+
+“Twelve shillings it is,” ses the man, as George put down arf a crown.
+
+“Twelve?” ses George, beginning to stammer. “Twelve? Twelve? Twel—?”
+
+“Twelve shillings,” ses the man; “three upper circles you've 'ad.”
+
+George was going to fetch Gerty back and 'ave cheaper seats, but she 'ad
+gone inside with young Ted, and at last, arter making an awful fuss, he
+paid the rest o' the money and rushed in arter her, arf crazy at the
+idea o' spending so much money.
+
+“Make 'aste,” ses Gerty, afore he could say anything; “the band 'as just
+begun.”
+
+She started running upstairs, and she was so excited that, when they got
+their seats and George started complaining about the price, she didn't
+pay any attention to wot he was saying, but kept pointing out ladies'
+dresses to 'im in w'ispers and wondering wot they 'ad paid for them.
+George gave it up at last, and then he sat wondering whether he 'ad done
+right arter all in taking Bob's gal away from him.
+
+Gerty enjoyed it very much, but when the curtain came down after the
+first act she leaned back in her chair and looked up at George and said
+she felt faint and thought she'd like to 'ave an ice-cream. “And you
+'ave one too, dear,” she ses, when young Ted 'ad got up and beckoned to
+the gal, “and Ted 'ud like one too, I'm sure.”
+
+She put her 'ead on George's shoulder and looked up at 'im. Then she put
+her 'and on his and stroked it, and George, reckoning that arter all
+ice-creams were on'y a ha'penny or at the most a penny each, altered 'is
+mind about not spending any more money and ordered three.
+
+The way he carried on when the gal said they was three shillings was
+alarming. At fust 'e thought she was 'aving a joke with 'im, and it took
+another gal and the fireman and an old gentleman wot was sitting behind
+'im to persuade 'im different. He was so upset that 'e couldn't eat his
+arter paying for it, and Ted and Gerty had to finish it for 'im.
+
+“They're expensive, but they're worth the money,” ses Gerty. “You are
+good to me, George. I could go on eating 'em all night, but you mustn't
+fling your money away like this always.”
+
+“I'll see to that,” ses George, very bitter.
+
+“I thought we was going to stand treat to each other? That was the idea,
+I understood.”
+
+“So we are,” ses Gerty. “Ted stood the 'bus fares, didn't he?”
+
+“He did,” ses George, “wot there was of 'em; but wot about you?”
+
+“Me?” ses Gerty, drawing her 'ead back and staring at 'im. “Why, 'ave
+you forgot that cigar already, George?”
+
+George opened 'is mouth, but 'e couldn't speak a word. He sat looking at
+'er and making a gasping noise in 'is throat, and fortunately just as 'e
+got 'is voice back the curtain went up agin, and everybody said, “H'sh!”
+
+He couldn't enjoy the play at all, 'e was so upset, and he began to see
+more than ever 'ow wrong he 'ad been in taking Bob's gal away from 'im.
+He walked downstairs into the street like a man in a dream, with Gerty
+sticking to 'is arm and young Ted treading on 'is heels behind.
+
+“Now, you mustn't waste any more money, George,” ses Gerty, when they
+got outside. “We'll walk 'ome.”
+
+George 'ad got arf a mind to say something about a 'bus, but he
+remembered in time that very likely young Ted hadn't got any more money.
+Then Gerty said she knew a short cut, and she took them, walking along
+little, dark, narrow streets and places, until at last, just as George
+thought they must be pretty near 'ome, she began to dab her eyes with
+'er pocket-'andkerchief and say she'd lost 'er way.
+
+“You two go 'ome and leave me,” she ses, arf crying. “I can't walk
+another step.”
+
+“Where are we?” ses George, looking round.
+
+“I don't know,” ses Gerty. “I couldn't tell you if you paid me. I must
+'ave taken a wrong turning. Oh, hurrah! Here's a cab!”
+
+Afore George could stop 'er she held up 'er umbrella, and a 'ansom cab,
+with bells on its horse, crossed the road and pulled up in front of 'em.
+Ted nipped in first and Gerty followed 'im.
+
+“Tell 'im the address, dear, and make 'aste and get in,” ses Gerty.
+
+George told the cabman, and then he got in and sat on Ted's knee, partly
+on Gerty's umbrella, and mostly on nothing.
+
+“You are good to me, George,” ses Gerty, touching the back of 'is neck
+with the brim of her hat. “It ain't often I get a ride in a cab. All the
+time I was keeping company with Bob we never 'ad one once. I only wish
+I'd got the money to pay for it.”
+
+George, who was going to ask a question, stopped 'imself, and then he
+kept striking matches and trying to read all about cab fares on a bill
+in front of 'im.
+
+“'Ow are we to know 'ow many miles it is?” he ses, at last.
+
+“I don't know,” ses Gerty; “leave it to the cabman. It's his bisness,
+ain't it? And if 'e don't know he must suffer for it.”
+
+There was hardly a soul in Gerty's road when they got there, but afore
+George 'ad settled with the cabman there was a policeman moving the
+crowd on and arf the winders in the road up. By the time George had paid
+'im and the cabman 'ad told him wot 'e looked like, Gerty and Ted 'ad
+disappeared indoors, all the lights was out, and, in a state o' mind
+that won't bear thinking of, George walked 'ome to his lodging.
+
+Bob was asleep when he got there, but 'e woke 'im up and told 'im about
+it, and then arter a time he said that he thought Bob ought to pay arf
+because he 'ad saved 'is life.
+
+“Cert'nly not,” ses Bob. “We're quits now; that was the arrangement. I
+only wish it was me spending the money on her; I shouldn't grumble.”
+
+George didn't get a wink o' sleep all night for thinking of the money he
+'ad spent, and next day when he went round he 'ad almost made up 'is
+mind to tell Bob that if 'e liked to pay up the money he could 'ave
+Gerty back; but she looked so pretty, and praised 'im up so much for 'is
+generosity, that he began to think better of it. One thing 'e was
+determined on, and that was never to spend money like that agin for
+fifty Gertys.
+
+There was a very sensible man there that evening that George liked very
+much. His name was Uncle Joe, and when Gerty was praising George to 'is
+face for the money he 'ad been spending, Uncle Joe, instead o' looking
+pleased, shook his 'ead over it.
+
+“Young people will be young people, I know,” he ses, “but still I don't
+approve of extravagance. Bob Evans would never 'ave spent all that money
+over you.”
+
+“Bob Evans ain't everybody,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, standing up for Gerty.
+
+“He was steady, anyway,” ses Uncle Joe. “Besides, Gerty ought not to ha'
+let Mr. Crofts spend his money like that. She could ha' prevented it if
+she'd ha' put 'er foot down and insisted on it.”
+
+He was so solemn about it that everybody began to feel a bit upset, and
+Gerty borrowed Ted's pocket-'andkerchief, and then wiped 'er eyes on the
+cuff of her dress instead.
+
+“Well, well,” ses Uncle Joe; “I didn't mean to be 'ard, but don't do it
+no more. You are young people, and can't afford it.”
+
+“We must 'ave a little pleasure sometimes,” ses Gerty.
+
+“Yes, I know,” ses Uncle Joe; “but there's moderation in everything.
+Look 'ere, it's time somebody paid for Mr. Crofts. To-morrow's Saturday,
+and, if you like, I'll take you all to the Crystal Palace.”
+
+Gerty jumped up off of 'er chair and kissed 'im, while Mrs. Mitchell
+said she knew 'is bark was worse than 'is bite, and asked 'im who was
+wasting his money now?
+
+“You meet me at London Bridge Station at two o'clock,” ses Uncle Joe,
+getting up to go. “It ain't extravagance for a man as can afford it.”
+
+He shook 'ands with George Crofts and went, and, arter George 'ad stayed
+long enough to hear a lot o' things about Uncle Joe which made 'im think
+they'd get on very well together, he went off too.
+
+They all turned up very early the next arternoon, and Gerty was dressed
+so nice that George couldn't take his eyes off of her. Besides her there
+was Mrs. Mitchell and Ted and a friend of 'is named Charlie Smith.
+
+They waited some time, but Uncle Joe didn't turn up, and they all got
+looking at the clock and talking about it, and 'oping he wouldn't make
+'em miss the train.
+
+“Here he comes!” ses Ted, at last.
+
+Uncle Joe came rushing in, puffing and blowing as though he'd bust.
+“Take 'em on by this train, will you?” he ses, catching 'old o' George
+by the arm. “I've just been stopped by a bit o' business I must do, and
+I'll come on by the next, or as soon arter as I can.”
+
+He rushed off again, puffing and blowing his 'ardest, in such a hurry
+that he forgot to give George the money for the tickets. However, George
+borrowed a pencil of Mrs. Mitchell in the train, and put down on paper
+'ow much they cost, and Mrs. Mitchell said if George didn't like to
+remind 'im she would.
+
+They left young Ted and Charlie to stay near the station when they got
+to the Palace, Uncle Joe 'aving forgotten to say where he'd meet 'em,
+but train arter train came in without 'im, and at last the two boys gave
+it up.
+
+“We're sure to run across 'im sooner or later,” ses Gerty. “Let's 'ave
+something to eat; I'm so hungry.”
+
+George said something about buns and milk, but Gerty took 'im up sharp.
+“Buns and milk?” she ses. “Why, uncle would never forgive us if we
+spoilt his treat like that.”
+
+She walked into a refreshment place and they 'ad cold meat and bread and
+pickles and beer and tarts and cheese, till even young Ted said he'd 'ad
+enough, but still they couldn't see any signs of Uncle Joe. They went on
+to the roundabouts to look for 'im, and then into all sorts o' shows at
+sixpence a head, but still there was no signs of 'im, and George had 'ad
+to start on a fresh bit o' paper to put down wot he'd spent.
+
+“I suppose he must ha' been detained on important business,” ses Gerty,
+at last.
+
+“Unless it's one of 'is jokes,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, shaking her 'ead.
+“You know wot your uncle is, Gerty.”
+
+“There now, I never thought o' that,” ses Gerty, with a start; “p'r'aps
+it is.”
+
+“Joke?” ses George, choking and staring from one to the other.
+
+“I was wondering where he'd get the money from,” ses Mrs. Mitchell to
+Gerty. “I see it all now; I never see such a man for a bit o' fun in all
+my born days. And the solemn way he went on last night, too. Why, he
+must ha' been laughing in 'is sleeve all the time. It's as good as a
+play.”
+
+“Look here!” ses George, 'ardly able to speak; “do you mean to tell me
+he never meant to come?”
+
+“I'm afraid not,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, “knowing wot he is. But don't you
+worry; I'll give him a bit o' my mind when I see 'im.”
+
+George Crofts felt as though he'd burst, and then 'e got his breath, and
+the things 'e said about Uncle Joe was so awful that Mrs. Mitchell told
+the boys to go away.
+
+“How dare you talk of my uncle like that?” ses Gerty, firing up.
+
+“You forget yourself, George,” ses Mrs. Mitchell. “You'll like 'im when
+you get to know 'im better.”
+
+“Don't you call me George,” ses George Crofts, turning on 'er. “I've
+been done, that's wot I've been. I 'ad fourteen pounds when I was paid
+off, and it's melting like butter.”
+
+“Well, we've enjoyed ourselves,” ses Gerty, “and that's what money was
+given us for. I'm sure those two boys 'ave had a splendid time, thanks
+to you. Don't go and spoil all by a little bit o' temper.”
+
+“Temper!” ses George, turning on her. “I've done with you, I wouldn't
+marry you if you was the on'y gal in the world. I wouldn't marry you if
+you paid me.”
+
+“Oh, indeed!” ses Gerty; “but if you think you can get out of it like
+that you're mistaken. I've lost my young man through you, and I'm not
+going to lose you too. I'll send my two big cousins round to see you
+to-morrow.”
+
+“They won't put up with no nonsense, I can tell you,” ses Mrs. Mitchell.
+
+She called the boys to her, and then she and Gerty, arter holding their
+'eads very high and staring at George, went off and left 'im alone. He
+went straight off 'ome, counting 'is money all the way and trying to
+make it more, and, arter telling Bob 'ow he'd been treated, and trying
+hard to get 'im to go shares in his losses, packed up his things and
+cleared out, all boiling over with temper.
+
+Bob was so dazed he couldn't make head or tail out of it, but 'e went
+round to see Gerty the first thing next morning, and she explained
+things to him.
+
+“I don't know when I've enjoyed myself so much,” she ses, wiping her
+eyes, “but I've had enough gadding about for once, and if you come round
+this evening we'll have a nice quiet time together looking at the
+furniture shops.”
+
+
+
+
+OVER THE SIDE
+
+
+
+
+Of all classes of men, those who follow the sea are probably the most
+prone to superstition. Afloat upon the black waste of waters, at the
+mercy of wind and sea, with vast depths and strange creatures below
+them, a belief in the supernatural is easier than ashore, under the
+cheerful gas-lamps. Strange stories of the sea are plentiful, and an
+incident which happened within my own experience has made me somewhat
+chary of dubbing a man fool or coward because he has encountered
+something he cannot explain. There are stories of the supernatural with
+prosaic sequels; there are others to which the sequel has never been
+published.
+
+I was fifteen years old at the time, and as my father, who had a strong
+objection to the sea, would not apprentice me to it, I shipped before
+the mast on a sturdy little brig called the Endeavour, bound for Riga.
+She was a small craft, but the skipper was as fine a seaman as one could
+wish for, and, in fair weather, an easy man to sail under. Most boys
+have a rough time of it when they first go to sea, but, with a strong
+sense of what was good for me, I had attached myself to a brawny,
+good-natured infant, named Bill Smith, and it was soon understood that
+whoever hit me struck Bill by proxy. Not that the crew were particularly
+brutal, but a sound cuffing occasionally is held by most seamen to be
+beneficial to a lad's health and morals. The only really spiteful fellow
+among them was a man named Jem Dadd. He was a morose, sallow-looking
+man, of about forty, with a strong taste for the supernatural, and a
+stronger taste still for frightening his fellows with it. I have seen
+Bill almost afraid to go on deck of a night for his trick at the wheel,
+after a few of his reminiscences. Rats were a favourite topic with him,
+and he would never allow one to be killed if he could help it, for he
+claimed for them that they were the souls of drowned sailors, hence
+their love of ships and their habit of leaving them when they became
+unseaworthy. He was a firm believer in the transmigration of souls, some
+idea of which he had, no doubt, picked up in Eastern ports, and gave his
+shivering auditors to understand that his arrangements for his own
+immediate future were already perfected.
+
+We were six or seven days out when a strange thing happened. Dadd had
+the second watch one night, and Bill was to relieve him. They were not
+very strict aboard the brig in fair weather, and when a man's time was
+up he just made the wheel fast, and, running for'ard, shouted down the
+fo'c's'le. On this night I happened to awake suddenly, in time to see
+Bill slip out of his bunk and stand by me, rubbing his red eyelids with
+his knuckles.
+
+“Dadd's giving me a long time,” he whispered, seeing that I was awake;
+“it's a whole hour after his time.”
+
+He pattered up on deck, and I was just turning over, thankful that I was
+too young to have a watch to keep, when he came softly down again, and,
+taking me by the shoulders, shook me roughly.
+
+“Jack,” he whispered. “Jack.”
+
+I raised myself on my elbows, and, in the light of the smoking lamp, saw
+that he was shaking all over.
+
+“Come on deck,” he said, thickly.
+
+I put on my clothes, and followed him quietly to the sweet, cool air
+above. It was a beautiful clear night, but, from his manner, I looked
+nervously around for some cause of alarm. I saw nothing. The deck was
+deserted, except for the solitary figure at the wheel.
+
+“Look at him,” whispered Bill, bending a contorted face to mine.
+
+I walked aft a few steps, and Bill followed slowly. Then I saw that Jem
+Dadd was leaning forward clumsily on the wheel, with his hands clenched
+on the spokes.
+
+“He's asleep,” said I, stopping short.
+
+Bill breathed hard. “He's in a queer sleep,” said he; “kind o' trance
+more like. Go closer.”
+
+I took fast hold of Bill's sleeve, and we both went. The light of the
+stars was sufficient to show that Dadd's face was very white, and that
+his dim, black eyes were wide open, and staring in a very strange and
+dreadful manner straight before him.
+
+“Dadd,” said I, softly, “Dadd!”
+
+There was no reply, and, with a view of arousing him, I tapped one
+sinewy hand as it gripped the wheel, and even tried to loosen it.
+
+He remained immovable, and, suddenly with a great cry, my courage
+deserted me, and Bill and I fairly bolted down into the cabin and woke
+the skipper.
+
+Then we saw how it was with Jem, and two strong seamen forcibly loosened
+the grip of those rigid fingers, and, laying him on the deck, covered
+him with a piece of canvas. The rest of the night two men stayed at the
+wheel, and, gazing fearfully at the outline of the canvas, longed for
+dawn.
+
+It came at last, and, breakfast over, the body was sewn up in canvas,
+and the skipper held a short service compiled from a Bible which
+belonged to the mate, and what he remembered of the Burial Service
+proper. Then the corpse went overboard with a splash, and the men, after
+standing awkwardly together for a few minutes, slowly dispersed to their
+duties.
+
+For the rest of that day we were all very quiet and restrained; pity for
+the dead man being mingled with a dread of taking the wheel when night
+came.
+
+“The wheel's haunted,” said the cook, solemnly; “mark my words, there's
+more of you will be took the same way Dadd was.”
+
+The cook, like myself, had no watch to keep.
+
+The men bore up pretty well until night came on again, and then they
+unanimously resolved to have a double watch. The cook, sorely against
+his will, was impressed into the service, and I, glad to oblige my
+patron, agreed to stay up with Bill.
+
+Some of the pleasure had vanished by the time night came, and I seemed
+only just to have closed my eyes when Bill came, and, with a rough shake
+or two, informed me that the time had come. Any hope that I might have
+had of escaping the ordeal was at once dispelled by his expectant
+demeanour, and the helpful way in which he assisted me with my clothes,
+and, yawning terribly, I followed him on deck.
+
+The night was not so clear as the preceding one, and the air was chilly,
+with a little moisture in it. I buttoned up my jacket, and thrust my
+hands in my pockets.
+
+“Everything quiet?” asked Bill as he stepped up and took the wheel.
+
+“Ay, ay,” said Roberts, “quiet as the grave,” and, followed by his
+willing mate, he went below.
+
+I sat on the deck by Bill's side as, with a light touch on the wheel, he
+kept the brig to her course. It was weary work sitting there, doing
+nothing, and thinking of the warm berth below, and I believe that I
+should have fallen asleep, but that my watchful companion stirred me
+with his foot whenever he saw me nodding.
+
+I suppose I must have sat there, shivering and yawning, for about an
+hour, when, tired of inactivity, I got up and went and leaned over the
+side of the vessel. The sound of the water gurgling and lapping by was
+so soothing that I began to doze.
+
+I was recalled to my senses by a smothered cry from Bill, and, running
+to him, I found him staring to port in an intense and uncomfortable
+fashion. At my approach, he took one hand from the wheel, and gripped my
+arm so tightly that I was like to have screamed with the pain of it.
+
+“Jack,” said he, in a shaky voice, “while you was away something popped
+its head up, and looked over the ship's side.”
+
+“You've been dreaming,” said I, in a voice which was a very fair
+imitation of Bill's own.
+
+“Dreaming,” repeated Bill, “dreaming! Ah, look there!”
+
+He pointed with outstretched finger, and my heart seemed to stop beating
+as I saw a man's head appear above the side. For a brief space it peered
+at us in silence, and then a dark figure sprang like a cat on to the
+deck, and stood crouching a short distance away.
+
+A mist came before my eyes, and my tongue failed me, but Bill let off a
+roar, such as I have never heard before or since. It was answered from
+below, both aft and for'ard, and the men came running up on deck just as
+they left their beds.
+
+“What's up?” shouted the skipper, glancing aloft.
+
+For answer, Bill pointed to the intruder, and the men, who had just
+caught sight of him, came up and formed a compact knot by the wheel.
+
+“Come over the side, it did,” panted Bill, “come over like a ghost out
+of the sea.”
+
+The skipper took one of the small lamps from the binnacle, and, holding
+it aloft, walked boldly up to the cause of alarm. In the little patch of
+light we saw a ghastly black-bearded man, dripping with water, regarding
+us with unwinking eyes, which glowed red in the light of the lamp.
+
+“Where did you come from?” asked the skipper.
+
+The figure shook its head.
+
+“Where did you come from?” he repeated, walking up, and laying his hand
+on the other's shoulder.
+
+Then the intruder spoke, but in a strange fashion and in strange words.
+We leaned forward to listen, but, even when he repeated them, we could
+make nothing of them.
+
+“He's a furriner,” said Roberts.
+
+“Blest if I've ever 'eard the lingo afore,” said Bill. “Does anybody
+rekernize it?”
+
+Nobody did, and the skipper, after another attempt, gave it up, and,
+falling back upon the universal language of signs, pointed first to the
+man and then to the sea. The other understood him, and, in a heavy,
+slovenly fashion, portrayed a man drifting in an open boat, and
+clutching and clambering up the side of a passing ship. As his meaning
+dawned upon us, we rushed to the stern, and, leaning over, peered into
+the gloom, but the night was dark, and we saw nothing.
+
+“Well,” said the skipper, turning to Bill, with a mighty yawn, “take him
+below, and give him some grub, and the next time a gentleman calls on
+you, don't make such a confounded row about it.”
+
+He went below, followed by the mate, and after some slight hesitation,
+Roberts stepped up to the intruder, and signed to him to follow. He came
+stolidly enough, leaving a trail of water on the deck, and, after
+changing into the dry things we gave him, fell to, but without much
+appearance of hunger, upon some salt beef and biscuits, regarding us
+between bites with black, lack-lustre eyes.
+
+“He seems as though he's a-walking in his sleep,” said the cook.
+
+“He ain't very hungry,” said one of the men; “he seems to mumble his
+food.”
+
+“Hungry!” repeated Bill, who had just left the wheel. “Course he ain't
+famished. He had his tea last night.”
+
+The men stared at him in bewilderment.
+
+“Don't you see?” said Bill, still in a hoarse whisper; “ain't you ever
+seen them eyes afore? Don't you know what he used to say about dying?
+It's Jem Dadd come back to us. Jem Dadd got another man's body, as he
+always said he would.”
+
+“Rot!” said Roberts, trying to speak bravely, but he got up, and, with
+the others, huddled together at the end of the fo'c's'le, and stared in
+a bewildered fashion at the sodden face and short, squat figure of our
+visitor. For his part, having finished his meal, he pushed his plate
+from him, and, leaning back on the locker, looked at the empty bunks.
+
+Roberts caught his eye, and, with a nod and a wave of his hand,
+indicated the bunks. The fellow rose from the locker, and, amid a
+breathless silence, climbed into one of them—Jem Dadd's!
+
+He slept in the dead sailor's bed that night, the only man in the
+fo'c's'le who did sleep properly, and turned out heavily and lumpishly
+in the morning for breakfast.
+
+The skipper had him on deck after the meal, but could make nothing of
+him. To all his questions he replied in the strange tongue of the night
+before, and, though our fellows had been to many ports, and knew a word
+or two of several languages, none of them recognized it. The skipper
+gave it up at last, and, left to himself, he stared about him for some
+time, regardless of our interest in his movements, and then, leaning
+heavily against the side of the ship, stayed there so long that we
+thought he must have fallen asleep.
+
+“He's half-dead now!” whispered Roberts.
+
+“Hush!” said Bill, “mebbe he's been in the water a week or two, and
+can't quite make it out. See how he's looking at it now.”
+
+He stayed on deck all day in the sun, but, as night came on, returned to
+the warmth of the fo'c's'le. The food we gave him remained untouched,
+and he took little or no notice of us, though I fancied that he saw the
+fear we had of him. He slept again in the dead man's bunk, and when
+morning came still lay there.
+
+Until dinner-time, nobody interfered with him, and then Roberts, pushed
+forward by the others, approached him with some food. He motioned, it
+away with a dirty, bloated hand, and, making signs for water, drank it
+eagerly.
+
+For two days he stayed there quietly, the black eyes always open, the
+stubby fingers always on the move. On the third morning Bill, who had
+conquered his fear sufficiently to give him water occasionally, called
+softly to us.
+
+“Come and look at him,” said he. “What's the matter with him?”
+
+“He's dying!” said the cook, with a shudder.
+
+“He can't be going to die yet!” said Bill, blankly.
+
+As he spoke the man's eyes seemed to get softer and more life-like, and
+he looked at us piteously and helplessly. From face to face he gazed in
+mute inquiry, and then, striking his chest feebly with his fist, uttered
+two words.
+
+We looked at each other blankly, and he repeated them eagerly, and again
+touched his chest.
+
+“It's his name,” said the cook, and we all repeated them.
+
+He smiled in an exhausted fashion, and then, rallying his energies, held
+up a forefinger; as we stared at this new riddle, he lowered it, and
+held up all four fingers, doubled.
+
+“Come away,” quavered the cook; “he's putting a spell on us.”
+
+We drew back at that, and back farther still, as he repeated the
+motions. Then Bill's face cleared suddenly, and he stepped towards him.
+
+“He means his wife and younkers!” he shouted eagerly. “This ain't no Jem
+Dadd!”
+
+It was good then to see how our fellows drew round the dying sailor, and
+strove to cheer him. Bill, to show he understood the finger business,
+nodded cheerily, and held his hand at four different heights from the
+floor. The last was very low, so low that the man set his lips together,
+and strove to turn his heavy head from us.
+
+“Poor devil!” said Bill, “he wants us to tell his wife and children
+what's become of him. He must ha' been dying when he come aboard. What
+was his name, again?”
+
+But the name was not easy to English lips, and we had already forgotten
+it.
+
+“Ask him again,” said the cook, “and write it down. Who's got a pen?”
+
+He went to look for one as Bill turned to the sailor to get him to
+repeat it. Then he turned round again, and eyed us blankly, for, by this
+time, the owner had himself forgotten it.
+
+
+
+
+THE FOUR PIGEONS
+
+
+
+
+The old man took up his mug and shifted along the bench until he was in
+the shade of the elms that stood before the Cauliflower. The action also
+had the advantage of bringing him opposite the two strangers who were
+refreshing themselves after the toils of a long walk in the sun.
+
+“My hearing ain't wot it used to be,” he said, tremulously. “When you
+asked me to have a mug o' ale I 'ardly heard you; and if you was to ask
+me to 'ave another, I mightn't hear you at all.”
+
+One of the men nodded.
+
+“Not over there,” piped the old man. “That's why I come over here,” he
+added, after a pause. “It 'ud be rude like to take no notice; if you was
+to ask me.”
+
+He looked round as the landlord approached, and pushed his mug gently in
+his direction. The landlord, obeying a nod from the second stranger,
+filled it.
+
+“It puts life into me,” said the old man, raising it to his lips and
+bowing. “It makes me talk.”
+
+“Time we were moving, Jack,” said the first traveller. The second,
+assenting to this as an abstract proposition, expressed, however, a
+determination to finish his pipe first.
+
+I heard you saying something about shooting, continued the old man, and
+that reminds me of some shooting we 'ad here once in Claybury. We've
+always 'ad a lot o' game in these parts, and if it wasn't for a low,
+poaching fellow named Bob Pretty—Claybury's disgrace I call 'im—we'd
+'ave a lot more.
+
+It happened in this way. Squire Rockett was going abroad to foreign
+parts for a year, and he let the Hall to a gentleman from London named
+Sutton. A real gentleman 'e was, open-'anded and free, and just about
+October he 'ad a lot of 'is friends come down from London to 'elp 'im
+kill the pheasants.
+
+The first day they frightened more than they killed, but they enjoyed
+theirselves all right until one gentleman, who 'adn't shot a single
+thing all day, shot pore Bill Chambers wot was beating with about a
+dozen more.
+
+Bill got most of it in the shoulder and a little in the cheek, but the
+row he see fit to make you'd ha' thought he'd been killed. He laid on
+the ground groaning with 'is eyes shut, and everybody thought 'e was
+dying till Henery Walker stooped down and asked 'im whether 'e was hurt.
+
+It took four men to carry Bill 'ome, and he was that particular you
+wouldn't believe. They 'ad to talk in whispers, and when Peter Gubbins
+forgot 'imself and began to whistle he asked him where his 'art was.
+When they walked fast he said they jolted 'im, and when they walked slow
+'e asked 'em whether they'd gone to sleep or wot.
+
+Bill was in bed for nearly a week, but the gentleman was very nice about
+it and said that it was his fault. He was a very pleasant-spoken
+gentleman, and, arter sending Dr. Green to him and saying he'd pay the
+bill, 'e gave Bill Chambers ten pounds to make up for 'is sufferings.
+
+Bill 'ad intended to lay up for another week, and the doctor, wot 'ad
+been calling twice a day, said he wouldn't be responsible for 'is life
+if he didn't; but the ten pounds was too much for 'im, and one evening,
+just a week arter the accident, he turned up at this Cauliflower
+public-'ouse and began to spend 'is money.
+
+His face was bandaged up, and when 'e come in he walked feeble-like and
+spoke in a faint sort o' voice. Smith, the landlord, got 'im a
+easy-chair and a couple of pillers out o' the parlour, and Bill sat
+there like a king, telling us all his sufferings and wot it felt like to
+be shot.
+
+I always have said wot a good thing beer is, and it done Bill more good
+than doctor's medicine. When he came in he could 'ardly crawl, and at
+nine o'clock 'e was out of the easy-chair and dancing on the table as
+well as possible. He smashed three mugs and upset about two pints o'
+beer, but he just put his 'and in his pocket and paid for 'em without a
+word.
+
+“There's plenty more where that came from,” he ses, pulling out a
+handful o' money.
+
+Peter Gubbins looked at it, 'ardly able to speak. “It's worth while
+being shot to 'ave all that money,” he ses, at last.
+
+“Don't you worry yourself, Peter,” ses Bob Pretty; “there's plenty more
+of you as'll be shot afore them gentlemen at the Hall 'as finished.
+Bill's the fust, but 'e won't be the last—not by a long chalk.”
+
+“They're more careful now,” ses Dicky Weed, the tailor.
+
+“All right; 'ave it your own way,” ses Bob, nasty-like. “I don't know
+much about shooting, being on'y a pore labourin' man. All I know is I
+shouldn't like to go beating for them. I'm too fond o' my wife and
+family.”
+
+“There won't be no more shot,” ses Sam Jones.
+
+“We're too careful,” ses Peter Gubbins.
+
+“Bob Pretty don't know everything,” ses Dicky Weed.
+
+“I'll bet you what you like there'll be some more of you shot,” ses Bob
+Pretty, in a temper. “Now, then.”
+
+“'Ow much'll you bet, Bob,” ses Sam Jones, with a wink at the others. “I
+can see you winking, Sam Jones,” ses Bob Pretty, “but I'll do more than
+bet. The last bet I won is still owing to me. Now, look 'ere; I'll pay
+you sixpence a week all the time you're beating if you promise to give
+me arf of wot you get if you're shot. I can't say fairer than that.”
+
+“Will you give me sixpence a week, too?” ses Henery Walker, jumping up.
+
+“I will,” ses Bob; “and anybody else that likes. And wot's more, I'll
+pay in advance. Fust sixpences now.”
+
+Claybury men 'ave never been backward when there's been money to be made
+easy, and they all wanted to join Bob Pretty's club, as he called it.
+But fust of all 'e asked for a pen and ink, and then he got Smith, the
+land-lord, being a scholard, to write out a paper for them to sign.
+Henery Walker was the fust to write 'is name, and then Sam Jones, Peter
+Gubbins, Ralph Thomson, Jem Hall, and Walter Bell wrote theirs. Bob
+stopped 'em then, and said six 'ud be enough to go on with; and then 'e
+paid up the sixpences and wished 'em luck.
+
+Wot they liked a'most as well as the sixpences was the idea o' getting
+the better o' Bob Pretty. As I said afore, he was a poacher, and that
+artful that up to that time nobody 'ad ever got the better of 'im.
+
+They made so much fun of 'im the next night that Bob turned sulky and
+went off 'ome, and for two or three nights he 'ardly showed his face;
+and the next shoot they 'ad he went off to Wickham and nobody saw 'im
+all day.
+
+That very day Henery Walker was shot. Several gentlemen fired at a
+rabbit that was started, and the next thing they knew Henery Walker was
+lying on the ground calling out that 'is leg 'ad been shot off.
+
+He made more fuss than Bill Chambers a'most, 'specially when they
+dropped 'im off a hurdle carrying him 'ome, and the things he said to
+Dr. Green for rubbing his 'ands as he came into the bedroom was
+disgraceful.
+
+The fust Bob Pretty 'eard of it was up at the Cauliflower at eight
+o'clock that evening, and he set down 'is beer and set off to see Henery
+as fast as 'is legs could carry 'im. Henery was asleep when 'e got
+there, and, do all he could, Bob Pretty couldn't wake 'im till he sat
+down gentle on 'is bad leg.
+
+“It's on'y me, old pal,” he ses, smiling at 'im as Henery woke up and
+shouted at 'im to get up.
+
+Henery Walker was going to say something bad, but 'e thought better of
+it, and he lay there arf busting with rage, and watching Bob out of the
+corner of one eye.
+
+“I quite forgot you was on my club till Smith reminded me of it,” ses
+Bob. “Don't you take a farthing less than ten pounds, Henery.”
+
+Henery Walker shut his eyes again. “I forgot to tell you I made up my
+mind this morning not to belong to your club any more, Bob,” he ses.
+
+“Why didn't you come and tell me, Henery, instead of leaving it till it
+was too late?” ses Bob, shaking his 'ead at 'im.
+
+“I shall want all that money,” ses Henery in a weak voice. “I might 'ave
+to have a wooden leg, Bob.”
+
+“Don't meet troubles arf way, Henery,” ses Bob, in a kind voice. “I've
+no doubt Mr. Sutton'll throw in a wooden leg if you want it, and look
+here, if he does, I won't trouble you for my arf of it.”
+
+He said good-night to Henery and went off, and when Mrs. Walker went up
+to see 'ow Henery was getting on he was carrying on that alarming that
+she couldn't do nothing with 'im.
+
+He was laid up for over a week, though it's my opinion he wasn't much
+hurt, and the trouble was that nobody knew which gentleman 'ad shot 'im.
+Mr. Sutton talked it over with them, and at last, arter a good deal o'
+trouble, and Henery pulling up 'is trousers and showing them 'is leg
+till they was fair sick of the sight of it, they paid 'im ten pounds,
+the same as they 'ad Bill.
+
+It took Bob Pretty two days to get his arf, but he kept very quiet about
+it, not wishing to make a fuss in the village for fear Mr. Sutton should
+get to hear of the club. At last he told Henery Walker that 'e was going
+to Wickham to see 'is lawyer about it, and arter Smith the landlord 'ad
+read the paper to Henery and explained 'ow he'd very likely 'ave to pay
+more than the whole ten pounds then, 'e gave Bob his arf and said he
+never wanted to see 'im again as long as he lived.
+
+Bob stood treat up at the Cauliflower that night, and said 'ow bad he'd
+been treated. The tears stood in 'is eyes a'most, and at last 'e said
+that if 'e thought there was going to be any more fuss of that kind he'd
+wind up the club.
+
+“It's the best thing you can do,” ses Sam Jones; “I'm not going to
+belong to it any longer, so I give you notice. If so be as I get shot I
+want the money for myself.”
+
+“Me, too,” ses Peter Gubbins; “it 'ud fair break my 'art to give Bob
+Pretty five pounds. I'd sooner give it to my wife.”
+
+All the other chaps said the same thing, but Bob pointed out to them
+that they 'ad taken their sixpences on'y the night afore, and they must
+stay in for the week. He said that was the law. Some of 'em talked about
+giving 'im 'is sixpences back, but Bob said if they did they must pay up
+all the sixpences they had 'ad for three weeks. The end of it was they
+said they'd stay in for that week and not a moment longer.
+
+The next day Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins altered their minds. Sam found
+a couple o' shillings that his wife 'ad hidden in her Sunday bonnet, and
+Peter Gubbins opened 'is boy's money-box to see 'ow much there was in
+it. They came up to the Cauliflower to pay Bob their eighteen-pences,
+but he wasn't there, and when they went to his 'ouse Mrs. Pretty said as
+'ow he'd gone off to Wickham and wouldn't be back till Saturday. So they
+'ad to spend the money on beer instead.
+
+That was on Tuesday, and things went on all right till Friday, when Mr.
+Sutton 'ad another shoot. The birds was getting scarce and the gentlemen
+that anxious to shoot them there was no 'olding them. Once or twice the
+keepers spoke to 'em about carefulness, and said wot large families
+they'd got, but it wasn't much good. They went on blazing away, and just
+at the corner of the wood Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins was both hit; Sam
+in the leg and Peter in the arm.
+
+The noise that was made was awful—everybody shouting that they 'adn't
+done it, and all speaking at once, and Mr. Sutton was dancing about
+a'most beside 'imself with rage. Pore Sam and Peter was 'elped along by
+the others; Sam being carried and Peter led, and both of 'em with the
+idea of getting all they could out of it, making such 'orrible noises
+that Mr. Sutton couldn't hear 'imself calling his friends names.
+
+“There seems to be wounded men calling out all over the place,” he ses,
+in a temper.
+
+“I think there is another one over there, sir,” ses one o' the keepers,
+pointing.
+
+Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins both left off to listen, and then they all
+heard it distinctly. A dreadful noise it was, and when Mr. Sutton and
+one or two more follered it up they found poor Walter Bell lying on 'is
+face in a bramble.
+
+“Wot's the matter?” ses Mr. Sutton, shouting at 'im.
+
+“I've been shot from behind,” ses Walter. “I'd got something in my boot,
+and I was just stooping down to fasten it up agin when I got it.
+
+“But there oughtn't to be anybody 'ere,” ses Mr. Sutton to one of the
+keepers.
+
+“They get all over the place, sir,” ses the 'keeper, scratching his
+'ead. “I fancied I 'eard a gun go off here a minute or two arter the
+others was shot.”
+
+“I believe he's done it 'imself,” says Mr. Sutton, stamping his foot.
+
+“I don't see 'ow he could, sir,” ses the keeper, touching his cap and
+looking at Walter as was still lying with 'is face on 'is arms.
+
+They carried Walter 'ome that way on a hurdle, and Dr. Green spent all
+the rest o' that day picking shots out o' them three men and telling 'em
+to keep still. He 'ad to do Sam Jones by candle-light, with Mrs. Jones
+'olding the candle with one hand and crying with the other. Twice the
+doctor told her to keep it steady, and poor Sam 'ad only just passed the
+remark, “How 'ot it was for October,” when they discovered that the bed
+was on fire. The doctor said that Sam was no trouble. He got off of the
+bed by 'imself, and, when it was all over and the fire put out, the
+doctor found him sitting on the stairs with the leg of a broken chair in
+'is hand calling for 'is wife.
+
+Of course, there was a terrible to-do about it in Claybury, and up at
+the Hall, too. All of the gentlemen said as 'ow they hadn't done it, and
+Mr. Sutton was arf crazy with rage. He said that they 'ad made 'im the
+laughing-stock of the neighbourhood, and that they oughtn't to shoot
+with anything but pop-guns. They got to such high words over it that two
+of the gentlemen went off 'ome that very night.
+
+There was a lot of talk up at the Cauliflower, too, and more than one
+pointed out 'ow lucky Bob Pretty was in getting four men out of the six
+in his club. As I said afore, Bob was away at the time, but he came back
+the next night and we 'ad the biggest row here you could wish for to
+see.
+
+Henery Walker began it. “I s'pose you've 'eard the dreadful news, Bob
+Pretty?” he ses, looking at 'im.
+
+“I 'ave,” ses Bob; “and my 'art bled for 'em. I told you wot those
+gentlemen was like, didn't I? But none of you would believe me. Now you
+can see as I was right.”
+
+“It's very strange,” ses Henery Walker, looking round; “it's very
+strange that all of us wot's been shot belonged to Bob Pretty's precious
+club.”
+
+“It's my luck, Henery,” ses Bob, “always was lucky from a child.”
+
+“And I s'pose you think you're going to 'ave arf of the money they get?”
+ses Henery Walker.
+
+“Don't talk about money while them pore chaps is suffering,” ses Bob.
+“I'm surprised at you, Henery.”
+
+“You won't 'ave a farthing of it,” ses Henery Walker; “and wot's more,
+Bob Pretty, I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back.”
+
+“Don't you believe it, Henery,” ses Bob, smiling at 'im.
+
+“I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back,” ses Henery, “and you know why.
+I know wot your club was for now, and we was all a pack o' silly fools
+not to see it afore.”
+
+“Speak for yourself, Henery,” ses John Biggs, who thought Henery was
+looking at 'im.
+
+“I've been putting two and two together,” ses Henery, looking round,
+“and it's as plain as the nose on your face. Bob Pretty hid up in the
+wood and shot us all himself!”
+
+For a moment you might 'ave heard a pin drop, and then there was such a
+noise nobody could hear theirselves speak. Everybody was shouting his
+'ardest, and the on'y quiet one there was Bob Pretty 'imself.
+
+“Poor Henery; he's gorn mad,” he ses, shaking his 'ead.
+
+“You're a murderer,” ses Ralph Thomson, shaking 'is fist at him.
+
+“Henery Walker's gorn mad,” ses Bob agin. “Why, I ain't been near the
+place. There's a dozen men'll swear that I was at Wickham each time
+these misfortunate accidents 'appened.”
+
+“Men like you, they'd swear anything for a pot o' beer,” ses Henery.
+“But I'm not going to waste time talking to you, Bob Pretty. I'm going
+straight off to tell Mr. Sutton.”
+
+“I shouldn't do that if I was you, Henery,” ses Bob.
+
+“I dessay,” ses Henery Walker; “but then you see I am.”
+
+“I thought you'd gorn mad, Henery,” ses Bob, taking a drink o' beer that
+somebody 'ad left on the table by mistake, “and now I'm sure of it. Why,
+if you tell Mr. Sutton that it wasn't his friends that shot them pore
+fellers he won't pay them anything. 'Tain't likely 'e would, is it?”
+
+Henery Walker, wot 'ad been standing up looking fierce at 'im, sat down
+agin, struck all of a heap.
+
+“And he might want your ten pounds back, Henery,” said Bob in a soft
+voice. “And seeing as 'ow you was kind enough to give five to me, and
+spent most of the other, it 'ud come 'ard on you, wouldn't it? Always
+think afore you speak, Henery. I always do.”
+
+Henery Walker got up and tried to speak, but 'e couldn't, and he didn't
+get 'is breath back till Bob said it was plain to see that he 'adn't got
+a word to say for 'imself. Then he shook 'is fist at Bob and called 'im
+a low, thieving, poaching murderer.
+
+“You're not yourself, Henery,” ses Bob. “When you come round you'll be
+sorry for trying to take away the character of a pore labourin' man with
+a ailing wife and a large family. But if you take my advice you won't
+say anything more about your wicked ideas; if you do, these pore fellers
+won't get a farthing. And you'd better keep quiet about the club mates
+for their sakes. Other people might get the same crazy ideas in their
+silly 'eads as Henery. Keepers especially.”
+
+That was on'y common sense; but, as John Biggs said, it did seem 'ard to
+think as 'ow Bob Pretty should be allowed to get off scot-free, and with
+Henery Walker's five pounds too. “There's one thing,” he ses to Bob;
+“you won't 'ave any of these other pore chaps money; and, if they're
+men, they ought to make it up to Henery Walker for the money he 'as
+saved 'em by finding you out.”
+
+“They've got to pay me fust,” ses Bob. “I'm a pore man, but I'll stick
+up for my rights. As for me shooting 'em, they'd ha' been 'urt a good
+deal more if I'd done it—especially Mr. Henery Walker. Why, they're
+hardly 'urt at all.”
+
+“Don't answer 'im, Henery,” ses John Biggs. “You save your breath to go
+and tell Sam Jones and the others about it. It'll cheer 'em up.”
+
+“And tell 'em about my arf, in case they get too cheerful and go
+overdoing it,” ses Bob Pretty, stopping at the door. “Good-night all.”
+
+Nobody answered 'im; and arter waiting a little bit Henery Walker set
+off to see Sam Jones and the others. John Biggs was quite right about
+its making 'em cheerful, but they see as plain as Bob 'imself that it
+'ad got to be kept quiet. “Till we've spent the money, at any rate,” ses
+Walter Bell; “then p'r'aps Mr. Sutton might get Bob locked up for it.”
+
+Mr. Sutton went down to see 'em all a day or two afterwards. The
+shooting-party was broken up and gone 'ome, but they left some money
+behind 'em. Ten pounds each they was to 'ave, same as the others, but
+Mr. Sutton said that he 'ad heard 'ow the other money was wasted at the
+Cauliflower, and 'e was going to give it out to 'em ten shillings a week
+until the money was gorn. He 'ad to say it over and over agin afore they
+understood 'im, and Walter Bell 'ad to stuff the bedclo'es in 'is mouth
+to keep civil.
+
+Peter Gubbins, with 'is arm tied up in a sling, was the fust one to turn
+up at the Cauliflower, and he was that down-'arted about it we couldn't
+do nothing with 'im. He 'ad expected to be able to pull out ten golden
+sovereigns, and the disapp'intment was too much for 'im.
+
+“I wonder 'ow they heard about it,” ses Dicky Weed.
+
+“I can tell you,” ses Bob Pretty, wot 'ad been sitting up in a corner by
+himself, nodding and smiling at Peter, wot wouldn't look at 'im. “A
+friend o' mine at Wickham wrote to him about it. He was so disgusted at
+the way Bill Chambers and Henery Walker come up 'ere wasting their
+'ard-earned money, that he sent 'im a letter, signed 'A Friend of the
+Working Man,' telling 'im about it and advising 'im what to do.”
+
+“A friend o' yours?” ses John Biggs, staring at 'im. “What for?”
+
+“I don't know,” ses Bob; “he's a wunnerful good scholard, and he likes
+writin' letters. He's going to write another to-morrer, unless I go over
+and stop 'im.”
+
+“Another?” ses Peter, who 'ad been tellin' everybody that 'e wouldn't
+speak to 'im agin as long as he lived. “Wot about?”
+
+“About the idea that I shot you all,” ses Bob. “I want my character
+cleared. O' course, they can't prove anything against me—I've got my
+witnesses. But, taking one thing with another, I see now that it does
+look suspicious, and I don't suppose any of you'll get any more of your
+money. Mr. Sutton is so sick o' being laughed at, he'll jump at
+anything.”
+
+“You dursn't do it, Bob,” ses Peter, all of a tremble.
+
+“It ain't me, Peter, old pal,” ses Bob, “it's my friend. But I don't
+mind stopping 'im for the sake of old times if I get my arf. He'd listen
+to me, I feel sure.”
+
+At fust Peter said he wouldn't get a farthing out of 'im if his friend
+wrote letters till Dooms-day; but by-and-by he thought better of it, and
+asked Bob to stay there while he went down to see Sam and Walter about
+it. When 'e came back he'd got the fust week's money for Bob Pretty; but
+he said he left Walter Bell carrying on like a madman, and, as for Sam
+Jones, he was that upset 'e didn't believe he'd last out the night.
+
+
+
+
+THE TEMPTATION OF SAMUEL BURGE
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Higgs, jeweller, sat in the small parlour behind his shop, gazing
+hungrily at a supper-table which had been laid some time before. It was
+a quarter to ten by the small town clock on the mantelpiece, and the
+jeweller rubbing his hands over the fire tried in vain to remember what
+etiquette had to say about starting a meal before the arrival of an
+expected guest.
+
+“He must be coming by the last train after all, sir,” said the
+housekeeper entering the room and glancing at the clock. “I suppose
+these London gentlemen keep such late hours they don't understand us
+country folk wanting to get to bed in decent time. You must be wanting
+your supper, sir.”
+
+Mr. Higgs sighed. “I shall be glad of my supper,” he said slowly, “but I
+dare say our friend is hungrier still. Travelling is hungry work.”
+
+“Perhaps he is thinking over his words for the seventh day,” said the
+housekeeper solemnly. “Forgetting hunger and thirst and all our poor
+earthly feelings in the blessedness of his work.”
+
+“Perhaps so,” assented the other, whose own earthly feelings were
+particularly strong just at that moment.
+
+“Brother Simpson used to forget all about meal-times when he stayed
+here,” said the housekeeper, clasping her hands. “He used to sit by the
+window with his eyes half-closed and shake his head at the smell from
+the kitchen and call it flesh-pots of Egypt. He said that if it wasn't
+for keeping up his strength for the work, luscious bread and fair water
+was all he wanted. I expect Brother Burge will be a similar sort of
+man.”
+
+“Brother Clark wrote and told me that he only lives for the work,” said
+the jeweller, with another glance at the clock. “The chapel at
+Clerkenwell is crowded to hear him. It's a blessed favour and privilege
+to have such a selected instrument staying in the house. I'm curious to
+see him; from what Brother Clark said I rather fancy that he was a
+little bit wild in his younger days.”
+
+“Hallelujah!” exclaimed the housekeeper with fervour. “I mean to think
+as he's seen the error of his ways,” she added sharply, as her master
+looked up.
+
+“There he is,” said the latter, as the bell rang.
+
+The housekeeper went to the side-door, and drawing back the bolt
+admitted the gentleman whose preaching had done so much for the small
+but select sect known as the Seventh Day Primitive Apostles. She came
+back into the room followed by a tall stout man, whose upper lip and
+short stubby beard streaked with grey seemed a poor match for the beady
+eyes which lurked behind a pair of clumsy spectacles.
+
+“Brother Samuel Burge?” inquired the jeweller, rising.
+
+The visitor nodded, and regarding him with a smile charged with
+fraternal love, took his hand in a huge grip and shook it fervently.
+
+“I am glad to see you, Brother Higgs,” he said, regarding him fondly.
+“Oh, 'ow my eyes have yearned to be set upon you! Oh, 'ow my ears 'ave
+longed to hearken unto the words of your voice!”
+
+He breathed thickly, and taking a seat sat with his hands upon his
+knees, looking at a fine piece of cold beef which the housekeeper had
+just placed upon the table.
+
+“Is Brother Clark well?” inquired the jeweller, placing a chair for him
+at the table and taking up his carving-knife.
+
+“Dear Brother Clark is in excellent 'ealth, I thank you,” said the
+other, taking the proffered chair. “Oh! what a man he is; what a
+instrument for good. Always stretching out them blessed hands of 'is to
+make one of the fallen a Seventh Day Primitive.”
+
+“And success attends his efforts?” said the jeweller.
+
+“Success, Brother!” repeated Mr. Burge, eating rapidly and gesticulating
+with his knife. “Success ain't no name for it. Why, since this day last
+week he has saved three pick-pockets, two Salvationists, one bigamist
+and a Roman Catholic.”
+
+Brother Higgs murmured his admiration. “You are also a power for good,”
+he said wistfully. “Brother Clark tells me in his letter that your
+exhortations have been abundantly blessed.”
+
+Mr. Burge shook his head. “A lot of it falls by the wayside,” he said
+modestly, “but some of it is an eye-opener to them as don't entirely
+shut their ears. Only the day before yesterday I 'ad two jemmies and a
+dark lantern sent me with a letter saying as 'ow the owner had no
+further use for 'em.”
+
+The jeweller's eyes glistened with admiration not quite untinged with
+envy. “Have you expounded the Word for long?” he inquired.
+
+“Six months,” replied the other. “It come to me quite natural—I was on
+the penitent bench on the Saturday, and the Wednesday afterwards I
+preached as good a sermon as ever I've preached in my life. Brother
+Clark said it took 'is breath away.”
+
+“And he's a judge too,” said the admiring jeweller.
+
+“Now,” continued Brother Burge, helping himself plentifully to pickled
+walnuts. “Now there ain't standing room in our Bethel when I'm
+expounding. People come to hear me from all parts—old and young—rich and
+poor—and the Apostles that don't come early 'ave to stand outside and
+catch the crumbs I throw 'em through the winders.”
+
+“It is enough,” sighed Brother Higgs, whose own audience was frequently
+content to be on the wrong side of the window, “it is enough to make a
+man vain.”
+
+“I struggle against it, Brother,” said Mr. Burge, passing his cup up for
+some more tea. “I fight against it hard, but once the Evil One was
+almost too much for me; and in spite of myself, and knowing besides that
+it was a plot of 'is, I nearly felt uplifted.”
+
+Brother Higgs, passing him some more beef, pressed for details.
+
+“He sent me two policemen,” replied the other, scowling darkly at the
+meanness of the trick. “One I might 'ave stood, but two come to being
+pretty near too much for me. They sat under me while I gave 'em the Word
+'ot and strong, and the feeling I had standing up there and telling
+policemen what they ought to do I shall never forget.”
+
+“But why should policemen make you proud?” asked his puzzled listener.
+
+Mr. Burge looked puzzled in his turn. “Why, hasn't Brother Clark told
+you about me?” he inquired.
+
+Mr. Higgs shook his head. “He sort of—suggested that—that you had been a
+little bit wild before you came to us,” he murmured apologetically.
+
+“A—little—bit—wild?” repeated Brother Burge, in horrified accents. “ME?
+a little bit wild?”
+
+“No doubt he exaggerated a little,” said the jeweller hurriedly. “Being
+such a good man himself, no doubt things would seem wild to him that
+wouldn't to us—to me, I mean.”
+
+“A little bit wild,” said his visitor again. “Sam Burge, the Converted
+Burglar, a little bit wild. Well, well!”
+
+“Converted what?” shouted the jeweller, half-rising from his chair.
+
+“Burglar,” said the other shortly. “Why, I should think I know more
+about the inside o' gaols than anybody in England; I've pretty near
+killed three policemen, besides breaking a gent's leg and throwing a
+footman out of window, and then Brother Clark goes and says I've been a
+little bit wild. I wonder what he would 'ave?”
+
+“But you—you've quite reformed now?” said the jeweller, resuming his
+seat and making a great effort to hide his consternation.
+
+“I 'ope so,” said Mr. Burge, with alarming humility; “but it's an
+uncertain world, and far be it from me to boast. That's why I've come
+here.”
+
+Mr. Higgs, only half-comprehending, sat back gasping.
+
+“If I can stand this,” pursued Brother Burge, gesticulating wildly in
+the direction of the shop, “if I can stand being here with all these
+'ere pretty little things to be 'ad for the trouble of picking of 'em
+up, I can stand anything. Tempt me, I says to Brother Clark. Put me in
+the way o' temptation, I says. Let me see whether the Evil One or me is
+the strongest; let me 'ave a good old up and down with the Powers o'
+Darkness, and see who wins.”
+
+Mr. Higgs, gripping the edge of the table with both hands, gazed at this
+new Michael in speechless consternation.
+
+“I think I see his face now,” said Brother Burge, with tender
+enthusiasm. “All in a glow it was, and he patted me on the shoulder and
+says, 'I'll send you on a week's mission to Duncombe,' he says, and 'you
+shall stop with Brother Higgs who 'as a shop full o' cunning wrought
+vanities in silver and gold.'”
+
+“But suppose,” said the jeweller, finding his voice by a great effort,
+“suppose victory is not given unto you.”
+
+“It won't make any difference,” replied his visitor. “Brother Clark
+promised that it shouldn't. 'If you fall, Brother,' he says, 'we'll help
+you up again. When you are tired of sin come back to us—there's always a
+welcome.'”
+
+“But—” began the dismayed jeweller.
+
+“We can only do our best,” said Brother Burge, “the rest we must leave.
+I 'ave girded my loins for the fray, and taken much spiritual sustenance
+on the way down from this little hymn-book.”
+
+Mr. Higgs paid no heed. He sat marvelling over the fatuousness of
+Brother Clark and trying to think of ways and means out of the dilemma
+into which that gentleman's perverted enthusiasm had placed him. He
+wondered whether it would be possible to induce Brother Burge to sleep
+elsewhere by offering to bear his hotel expenses, and at last, after
+some hesitation, broached the subject.
+
+“What!” exclaimed the other, pushing his plate from him and regarding
+him with great severity. “Go and sleep at a hotel? After Brother Clark
+has been and took all this trouble? Why, I wouldn't think of doing such
+a thing.”
+
+“Brother Clark has no right to expose you to such a trial,” said Mr.
+Higgs with great warmth.
+
+“I wonder what he'd say if he 'eard you,” remarked Mr. Burge sternly.
+“After his going and making all these arrangements, for you to try and
+go and upset 'em. To ask me to shun the fight like a coward; to ask me
+to go and hide in the rear-ranks in a hotel with everything locked up,
+or a Coffer Pallis with nothing to steal.”
+
+“I should sleep far more comfortably if I knew that you were not
+undergoing this tremendous strain,” said the unhappy Mr. Higgs, “and
+besides that, if you did give way, it would be a serious business for me
+—that's what I want you to look at. I am afraid that if—if unhappily you
+did fall, I couldn't prevent you.”
+
+“I'm sure you couldn't,” said the other cordially. “That's the beauty of
+it; that's when the Evil One's whispers get louder and louder. Why, I
+could choke you between my finger and thumb. If unfortunately my fallen
+nature should be too strong for me, don't interfere whatever you do. I
+mightn't be myself.”
+
+Mr. Higgs rose and faced him gasping.
+
+“Not even—call for—the police—I suppose,” he jerked out.
+
+“That would be interfering,” said Brother Burge coldly.
+
+The jeweller tried to think. It was past eleven. The housekeeper had
+gone to spend the night with an ailing sister, and a furtive glance at
+Brother Burge's small shifty eyes and fat unwholesome face was
+sufficient to deter him from leaving him alone with his property, while
+he went to ask the police to give an eye to his house for the night.
+Besides, it was more than probable that Mr. Burge would decline to allow
+such a proceeding. With a growing sense of his peril he resolved to try
+flattery.
+
+“It was a great thing for the Brethren to secure a man like you,” he
+said.
+
+“I never thought they'd ha' done it,” said Mr. Burge frankly. “I've 'ad
+all sorts trying to convert me; crying over me and praying over me. I
+remember the first dear good man that called me a lorst lamb. He didn't
+say anything else for a month.”
+
+“So upset,” hazarded the jeweller.
+
+“I broke his jor, pore feller,” said Brother Burge, a sad but withal
+indulgent smile lighting up his face at the vagaries of his former
+career. “What time do you go to bed, Brother?”
+
+“Any time,” said the other reluctantly. “I suppose you are tired with
+your journey?”
+
+Mr. Burge assented, and rising from his chair yawned loudly and
+stretched himself. In the small room with his huge arms raised he looked
+colossal.
+
+“I suppose,” said the jeweller, still seeking to re-assure himself, “I
+suppose dear Brother Clark felt pretty certain of you, else he wouldn't
+have sent you here?”
+
+“Brother Clark said 'What is a jeweller's shop compared with a 'uman
+soul, a priceless 'uman soul?'” replied Mr. Burge. “What is a few
+gew-gaws to decorate them that perish, and make them vain, when you come
+to consider the opportunity of such a trial, and the good it'll do and
+the draw it'll be—if I do win—and testify to the congregation to that
+effect? Why, there's sermons for a lifetime in it.”
+
+“So there is,” said the jeweller, trying to look cheerful. “You've got a
+good face, Brother Burge, and you'll do a lot of good by your preaching.
+There is honesty written in every feature.”
+
+Mr. Burge turned and surveyed himself in the small pier-glass. “Yes,” he
+said, somewhat discontentedly, “I don't look enough like a burglar to
+suit some of 'em.”
+
+“Some people are hard to please,” said the other warmly.
+
+Mr. Burge started and eyed him thoughtfully, and then as Mr. Higgs after
+some hesitation walked into the shop to turn the gas out, stood in the
+doorway watching him. A smothered sigh as he glanced round the shop bore
+witness to the state of his feelings.
+
+The jeweller hesitated again in the parlour, and then handing Brother
+Burge his candle turned out the gas, and led the way slowly upstairs to
+the room which had been prepared for the honoured visitor. He shook
+hands at the door and bade him an effusive good-night, his voice
+trembling despite himself as he expressed a hope that Mr. Burge would
+sleep well. He added casually that he himself was a very light sleeper.
+
+To-night sleep of any kind was impossible. He had given up the front
+room to his guest, and his own window looked out on an over-grown
+garden. He sat trying to read, with his ears alert for the slightest
+sound. Brother Burge seemed to be a long time undressing. For half an
+hour after he had retired he could hear him moving restlessly about his
+room.
+
+Twelve o'clock struck from the tower of the parish church, and was
+followed almost directly by the tall clock standing in the hall
+down-stairs. Scarcely had the sounds died away than a low moaning from
+the next room caused the affrighted jeweller to start from his chair and
+place his ear against the wall. Two or three hollow groans came through
+the plaster, followed by ejaculations which showed clearly that Brother
+Burge was at that moment engaged in a terrified combat with the Powers
+of Darkness to decide whether he should, or should not, rifle his host's
+shop. His hands clenched and his ear pressed close to the wall, the
+jeweller listened to a monologue which increased in interest with every
+word.
+
+“I tell you I won't,” said the voice in the next room with a groan, “I
+won't. Get thee behind me—Get thee—No, and don't shove me over to the
+door; if you can't get behind me without doing that, stay where you are.
+Yes, I know it's a fortune as well as what you do; but it ain't mine.”
+
+The listener caught his breath painfully.
+
+“Diamond rings,” continued Brother Burge in a suffocating voice. “Stop
+it, I tell you. No, I won't just go and look at 'em.”
+
+A series of groans which the jeweller noticed to his horror got weaker
+and weaker testified to the greatness of the temptation. He heard
+Brother Burge rise, and then a succession of panting snarls seemed to
+indicate a fierce bodily encounter.
+
+“I don't—want to look at 'em,” said Brother Burge in an exhausted voice.
+“What's—the good of—looking at 'em? It's like you, you know diamonds are
+my weakness. What does it matter if he is asleep? What's my knife got to
+do with you?”
+
+Brother Higgs reeled back and a mist passed before his eyes. He came to
+himself at the sound of a door opening, and impelled with a vague idea
+of defending his property, snatched up his candle and looked out on to
+the landing.
+
+The light fell on Brother Burge, fully dressed and holding his boots in
+his hand. For a moment they gazed at each other in silence; then the
+jeweller found his voice.
+
+“I thought you were ill, Brother,” he faltered.
+
+An ugly scowl lit up the other's features. “Don't you tell me any of
+your lies,” he said fiercely. “You're watching me; that's what you're
+doing. Spying on me.”
+
+“I thought that you were being tempted,” confessed the trembling Mr.
+Higgs.
+
+An expression of satisfaction which he strove to suppress appeared on
+Mr. Burge's face.
+
+“So I was,” he said sternly. “So I was; but that's my business. I don't
+want your assistance; I can fight my own battles. You go to bed—I'm
+going to tell the congregation I won the fight single-'anded.”
+
+“So you have, Brother,” said the other eagerly; “but it's doing me good
+to see it. It's a lesson to me; a lesson to all of us the way you
+wrestled.”
+
+“I thought you was asleep,” growled Brother Burge, turning back to his
+room and speaking over his shoulder. “You get back to bed; the fight
+ain't half over yet. Get back to bed and keep quiet.”
+
+The door closed behind him, and Mr. Higgs, still trembling, regained his
+room and looked in agony at the clock. It was only half-past twelve and
+the sun did not rise until six. He sat and shivered until a second
+instalment of groans in the next room brought him in desperation to his
+feet.
+
+Brother Burge was in the toils again, and the jeweller despite his fears
+could not help realizing what a sensation the story of his temptation
+would create. Brother Burge was now going round and round his room like
+an animal in a cage, and sounds as of a soul wrought almost beyond
+endurance smote upon the listener's quivering ear. Then there was a long
+silence more alarming even than the noise of the conflict. Had Brother
+Burge won, and was he now sleeping the sleep of the righteous, or—— Mr.
+Higgs shivered and put his other ear to the wall. Then he heard his
+guest move stealthily across the floor; the boards creaked and the
+handle of the door turned.
+
+Mr. Higgs started, and with a sudden flash of courage born of anger and
+desperation seized a small brass poker from the fire-place, and taking
+the candle in his other hand went out on to the landing again. Brother
+Burge was closing his door softly, and his face when he turned it upon
+the jeweller was terrible in its wrath. His small eyes snapped with
+fury, and his huge hands opened and shut convulsively.
+
+“What, agin!” he said in a low growl. “After all I told you!”
+
+Mr. Higgs backed slowly as he advanced.
+
+“No noise,” said Mr. Burge in a dreadful whisper. “One scream and I'll—
+What were you going to do with that poker?”
+
+He took a stealthy step forward.
+
+“I—I,” began the jeweller. His voice failed him. “Burglars,” he mouthed,
+“downstairs.”
+
+“What?” said the other, pausing.
+
+Mr. Higgs threw truth to the winds. “I heard them in the shop,” he said,
+recovering, “that's why I took up the poker. Can't you hear them?”
+
+Mr. Burge listened for the fraction of a second. “Nonsense,” he said
+huskily.
+
+“I heard them talking,” said the other recklessly. “Let's go down and
+call the police.”
+
+“Call 'em from the winder,” said Brother Burge, backing with some haste,
+“they might 'ave pistols or something, and they're ugly customers when
+they're disturbed.”
+
+He stood with strained face listening.
+
+“Here they come,” whispered the jeweller with a sudden movement of
+alarm.
+
+Brother Burge turned, and bolting into his room clapped the door to and
+locked it. The jeweller stood dumbfounded on the landing; then he heard
+the window go up and the voice of Brother Burge, much strengthened by
+the religious exercises of the past six months, bellowing lustily for
+the police.
+
+For a few seconds Mr. Higgs stood listening and wondering what
+explanation he should give. Still thinking, he ran downstairs, and,
+throwing open the pantry window, unlocked the door leading into the shop
+and scattered a few of his cherished possessions about the floor. By the
+time he had done this, people were already beating upon the street-door
+and exchanging hurried remarks with Mr. Burge at the window above. The
+jeweller shot back the bolts, and half-a-dozen neighbours, headed by the
+butcher opposite, clad in his nightgown and armed with a cleaver, burst
+into the passage. A constable came running up just as the pallid face of
+Brother Burge peered over the balusters. The constable went upstairs
+three at a time, and twisting his hand in the ex-burglar's neck-cloth
+bore him backwards.
+
+“I've got one,” he shouted. “Come up and hold him while I look round.”
+
+The butcher was beside him in a moment; Brother Burge struggling wildly,
+called loudly upon the name of Brother Higgs.
+
+“That's all right, constable,” said the latter, “that's a friend of
+mine.”
+
+“Friend o' yours, sir?” said the disappointed officer, still holding
+him.
+
+The jeweller nodded. “Mr. Samuel Burge the Converted Burglar,” he said
+mechanically.
+
+“Conver——” gasped the astonished constable. “Converted burglar? Here!”
+
+“He is a preacher now,” added Mr. Higgs.
+
+“Preacher?” retorted the constable. “Why it's as plain as a pikestaff.
+Confederates: his part was to go down and let 'em in.”
+
+Mr. Burge raised a piteous outcry. “I hope you may be forgiven for them
+words,” he cried piously.
+
+“What time did you go up to bed?” pursued the constable.
+
+“About half-past eleven,” replied Mr. Higgs.
+
+The other grunted with satisfaction. “And he's fully dressed, with his
+boots off,” he remarked. “Did you hear him go out of his room at all?”
+
+“He did go out,” said the jeweller truth-fully, “but——”
+
+“I thought so,” said the constable, turning to his prisoner with
+affectionate solicitude. “Now you come along o' me. Come quietly,
+because it'll be the best for you in the end.”
+
+“You won't get your skull split open then,” added the butcher, toying
+with his cleaver.
+
+The jeweller hesitated. He had no desire to be left alone with Mr. Burge
+again; and a sense of humour, which many years' association with the
+Primitive Apostles had not quite eradicated, strove for hearing.
+
+“Think of the sermon it'll make,” he said encouragingly to the frantic
+Mr. Burge, “think of the congregation!”
+
+Brother Burge replied in language which he had not used in public since
+he had joined the Apostles. The butcher and another man stood guard over
+him while the constable searched the premises and made all secure again.
+Then with a final appeal to Mr. Higgs who was keeping in the background,
+he was pitched to the police-station by the energetic constable and five
+zealous assistants.
+
+A diffidence, natural in the circumstances, prevented him from narrating
+the story of his temptation to the magistrates next morning, and Mr.
+Higgs was equally reticent. He was put back while the police
+communicated with London, and in the meantime Brother Clark and a band
+of Apostles flanked down to his support.
+
+On his second appearance before the magistrates he was confronted with
+his past; and his past to the great astonishment of the Brethren being
+free from all blemish with the solitary exception of fourteen days for
+stealing milk-cans, he was discharged with a caution. The disillusioned
+Primitive Apostles also gave him his freedom.
+
+
+
+
+THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER
+
+
+
+
+Old Jem Lister, of the Susannah, was possessed of two devils—the love of
+strong drink and avarice—and the only thing the twain had in common was
+to get a drink without paying for it. When Mr. Lister paid for a drink,
+the demon of avarice masquerading as conscience preached a teetotal
+lecture, and when he showed signs of profiting by it, the demon of drink
+would send him hanging round public-house doors cadging for drinks in a
+way which his shipmates regarded as a slur upon the entire ship's
+company. Many a healthy thirst reared on salt beef and tickled with
+strong tobacco had been spoiled by the sight of Mr. Lister standing by
+the entrance, with a propitiatory smile, waiting to be invited in to
+share it, and on one occasion they had even seen him (him, Jem Lister,
+A.B.) holding a horse's head, with ulterior motives.
+
+It was pointed out to Mr. Lister at last that his conduct was reflecting
+discredit upon men who were fully able to look after themselves in that
+direction, without having any additional burden thrust upon them. Bill
+Henshaw was the spokesman, and on the score of violence (miscalled
+firmness) his remarks left little to be desired. On the score of
+profanity, Bill might recall with pride that in the opinion of his
+fellows he had left nothing unsaid.
+
+“You ought to ha' been a member o' Parliament, Bill,” said Harry Lea,
+when he had finished.
+
+“It wants money,” said Henshaw, shaking his head.
+
+Mr. Lister laughed, a senile laugh, but not lacking in venom.
+
+“That's what we've got to say,” said Henshaw, turning upon him suddenly.
+“If there's anything I hate in this world, it's a drinking miser. You
+know our opinion, and the best thing you can do is to turn over a new
+leaf now.”
+
+“Take us all in to the Goat and Compasses,” urged Lea; “bring out some
+o' those sovrins you've been hoarding.”
+
+Mr. Lister gazed at him with frigid scorn, and finding that the
+conversation still seemed to centre round his unworthy person, went up
+on deck and sat glowering over the insults which had been heaped upon
+him. His futile wrath when Bill dogged his footsteps ashore next day and
+revealed his character to a bibulous individual whom he had almost
+persuaded to be a Christian—from his point of view—bordered upon the
+maudlin, and he wandered back to the ship, wild-eyed and dry of throat.
+
+For the next two months it was safe to say that every drink he had he
+paid for. His eyes got brighter and his complexion clearer, nor was he
+as pleased as one of the other sex might have been when the
+self-satisfied Henshaw pointed out these improvements to his companions,
+and claimed entire responsibility for them. It is probable that Mr.
+Lister, under these circumstances, might in time have lived down his
+taste for strong drink, but that at just that time they shipped a new
+cook.
+
+He was a big, cadaverous young fellow, who looked too closely after his
+own interests to be much of a favourite with the other men forward. On
+the score of thrift, it was soon discovered that he and Mr. Lister had
+much in common, and the latter, pleased to find a congenial spirit, was
+disposed to make the most of him, and spent, despite the heat, much of
+his spare time in the galley.
+
+“You keep to it,” said the greybeard impressively; “money was made to be
+took care of; if you don't spend your money you've always got it. I've
+always been a saving man—what's the result?”
+
+The cook, waiting some time in patience to be told, gently inquired what
+it was.
+
+“'Ere am I,” said Mr. Lister, good-naturedly helping him to cut a
+cabbage, “at the age of sixty-two with a bank-book down below in my
+chest, with one hundered an' ninety pounds odd in it.”
+
+“One 'undered and ninety pounds!” repeated the cook, with awe.
+
+“To say nothing of other things,” continued Mr. Lister, with joyful
+appreciation of the effect he was producing. “Altogether I've got a
+little over four 'undered pounds.”
+
+The cook gasped, and with gentle firmness took the cabbage from him as
+being unfit work for a man of such wealth.
+
+“It's very nice,” he said, slowly. “It's very nice. You'll be able to
+live on it in your old age.”
+
+Mr. Lister shook his head mournfully, and his eyes became humid.
+
+“There's no old age for me,” he said, sadly; “but you needn't tell
+them,” and he jerked his thumb towards the forecastle.
+
+“No, no,” said the cook.
+
+“I've never been one to talk over my affairs,” said Mr. Lister, in a low
+voice. “I've never yet took fancy enough to anybody so to do. No, my
+lad, I'm saving up for somebody else.”
+
+“What are you going to live on when you're past work then?” demanded the
+other.
+
+Mr. Lister took him gently by the sleeve, and his voice sank with the
+solemnity of his subject: “I'm not going to have no old age,” he said,
+resignedly.
+
+“Not going to live!” repeated the cook, gazing uneasily at a knife by
+his side. “How do you know?”
+
+“I went to a orsepittle in London,” said Mr. Lister. “I've been to two
+or three altogether, while the money I've spent on doctors is more than
+I like to think of, and they're all surprised to think that I've lived
+so long. I'm so chock-full o' complaints, that they tell me I can't live
+more than two years, and I might go off at any moment.”
+
+“Well, you've got money,” said the cook, “why don't you knock off work
+now and spend the evenin' of your life ashore? Why should you save up
+for your relatives?”
+
+“I've got no relatives,” said Mr. Lister; “I'm all alone. I 'spose I
+shall leave my money to some nice young feller, and I hope it'll do 'im
+good.”
+
+With the dazzling thoughts which flashed through the cook's brain the
+cabbage dropped violently into the saucepan, and a shower of cooling
+drops fell on both men.
+
+“I 'spose you take medicine?” he said, at length.
+
+“A little rum,” said Mr. Lister, faintly; “the doctors tell me that it
+is the only thing that keeps me up—o' course, the chaps down there “—he
+indicated the forecastle again with a jerk of his head—“accuse me o'
+taking too much.”
+
+“What do ye take any notice of 'em for?” inquired the other,
+indignantly.
+
+“I 'spose it is foolish,” admitted Mr. Lister; “but I don't like being
+misunderstood. I keep my troubles to myself as a rule, cook. I don't
+know what's made me talk to you like this. I 'eard the other day you was
+keeping company with a young woman.”
+
+“Well, I won't say as I ain't,” replied the other, busying himself over
+the fire.
+
+“An' the best thing, too, my lad,” said the old man, warmly. “It keeps
+you stiddy, keeps you out of public-'ouses; not as they ain't good in
+moderation—I 'ope you'll be 'appy.”
+
+A friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled the remainder
+of the crew not a little.
+
+The cook thanked him, and noticed that Mr. Lister was fidgeting with a
+piece of paper.
+
+“A little something I wrote the other day,” said the old man, catching
+his eye. “If I let you see it, will you promise not to tell a soul about
+it, and not to give me no thanks?”
+
+The wondering cook promised, and, the old man being somewhat emphatic on
+the subject, backed his promise with a home made affidavit of singular
+power and profanity.
+
+“Here it is, then,” said Mr. Lister.
+
+The cook took the paper, and as he read the letters danced before him.
+He blinked his eyes and started again, slowly. In plain black and white
+and nondescript-coloured finger-marks, Mr. Lister, after a general
+statement as to his bodily and mental health, left the whole of his
+estate to the cook. The will was properly dated and witnessed, and the
+cook's voice shook with excitement and emotion as he offered to hand it
+back.
+
+“I don't know what I've done for you to do this,” he said.
+
+Mr. Lister waved it away again. “Keep it,” he said, simply; “while
+you've got it on you, you'll know it's safe.”
+
+From this moment a friendship sprang up between the two men which
+puzzled the remainder of the crew not a little. The attitude of the cook
+was as that of a son to a father: the benignancy of Mr. Lister beautiful
+to behold. It was noticed, too, that he had abandoned the reprehensible
+practice of hanging round tavern doors in favour of going inside and
+drinking the cook's health.
+
+For about six months the cook, although always in somewhat straitened
+circumstances, was well content with the tacit bargain, and then, bit by
+bit, the character of Mr. Lister was revealed to him. It was not a nice
+character, but subtle; and when he made the startling discovery that a
+will could be rendered invalid by the simple process of making another
+one the next day, he became as a man possessed. When he ascertained that
+Mr. Lister when at home had free quarters at the house of a married
+niece, he used to sit about alone, and try and think of ways and means
+of securing capital sunk in a concern which seemed to show no signs of
+being wound-up.
+
+“I've got a touch of the 'art again, lad,” said the elderly invalid, as
+they sat alone in the forecastle one night at Seacole.
+
+“You move about too much,” said the cook. “Why not turn in and rest?”
+
+Mr. Lister, who had not expected this, fidgeted. “I think I'll go ashore
+a bit and try the air,” he said, suggestively. “I'll just go as far as
+the Black Horse and back. You won't have me long now, my lad.”
+
+“No, I know,” said the cook; “that's what's worrying me a bit.” “Don't
+worry about me,” said the old man, pausing with his hand on the other's
+shoulder; “I'm not worth it. Don't look so glum, lad.”
+
+“I've got something on my mind, Jem,” said the cook, staring straight in
+front of him.
+
+“What is it?” inquired Mr. Lister.
+
+“You know what you told me about those pains in your inside?” said the
+cook, without looking at him.
+
+Jem groaned and felt his side.
+
+“And what you said about its being a relief to die,” continued the
+other, “only you was afraid to commit suicide?”
+
+“Well?” said Mr. Lister.
+
+“It used to worry me,” continued the cook, earnestly. “I used to say to
+myself, 'Poor old Jem,' I ses, 'why should 'e suffer like this when he
+wants to die? It seemed 'ard.'”
+
+“It is 'ard,” said Mr. Lister, “but what about it?”
+
+The other made no reply, but looking at him for the first time, surveyed
+him with a troubled expression.
+
+“What about it?” repeated Mr. Lister, with some emphasis.
+
+“You did say you wanted to die, didn't you?” said the cook. “Now suppose
+suppose——”
+
+“Suppose what?” inquired the old man, sharply. “Why don't you say what
+you're agoing to say?”
+
+“Suppose,” said the cook, “some one what liked you, Jem—what liked you,
+mind—'eard you say this over and over again, an' see you sufferin' and
+'eard you groanin' and not able to do nothin' for you except lend you a
+few shillings here and there for medicine, or stand you a few glasses o'
+rum; suppose they knew a chap in a chemist's shop?”
+
+“Suppose they did?” said the other, turning pale.
+
+“A chap what knows all about p'isons,” continued the cook, “p'isons what
+a man can take without knowing it in 'is grub. Would it be wrong, do you
+think, if that friend I was speaking about put it in your food to put
+you out of your misery?”
+
+“Wrong,” said Mr. Lister, with glassy eyes. “Wrong. Look 'ere, cook—”
+
+“I don't mean anything to give him pain,” said the other, waving his
+hand; “you ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you, Jem?”
+
+“Do you mean to say!” shouted Mr. Lister.
+
+“I don't mean to say anything,” said the cook. “Answer my question. You
+ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you?”
+
+“Have—you—been—putting—p'ison—in—my—wittles?” demanded Mr. Lister, in
+trembling accents.
+
+“If I 'ad, Jem, supposin' that I 'ad,” said the cook, in accents of
+reproachful surprise, “do you mean to say that you'd mind?”
+
+“MIND,” said Mr. Lister, with fervour. “I'd 'ave you 'ung!”
+
+“But you said you wanted to die,” said the surprised cook.
+
+Mr. Lister swore at him with startling vigour. “I'll 'ave you 'ung,” he
+repeated, wildly.
+
+“Me,” said the cook, artlessly. “What for?”
+
+“For giving me p'ison,” said Mr. Lister, frantically. “Do you think you
+can deceive me by your roundabouts? Do you think I can't see through
+you?”
+
+The other with a sphinx-like smile sat unmoved. “Prove it,” he said,
+darkly. “But supposin' if anybody 'ad been givin' you p'ison, would you
+like to take something to prevent its acting?”
+
+“I'd take gallons of it,” said Mr. Lister, feverishly.
+
+The other sat pondering, while the old man watched him anxiously. “It's
+a pity you don't know your own mind, Jem,” he said, at length; “still,
+you know your own business best. But it's very expensive stuff.”
+
+“How much?” inquired the other.
+
+“Well, they won't sell more than two shillings-worth at a time,” said
+the cook, trying to speak carelessly, “but if you like to let me 'ave
+the money, I'll go ashore to the chemist's and get the first lot now.”
+
+Mr. Lister's face was a study in emotions, which the other tried in vain
+to decipher.
+
+Then he slowly extracted the amount from his trousers-pocket, and handed
+it over with-out a word.
+
+“I'll go at once,” said the cook, with a little feeling, “and I'll never
+take a man at his word again, Jem.”
+
+He ran blithely up on deck, and stepping ashore, spat on the coins for
+luck and dropped them in his pocket. Down below, Mr. Lister, with his
+chin in his hand, sat in a state of mind pretty evenly divided between
+rage and fear.
+
+The cook, who was in no mood for company, missed the rest of the crew by
+two public-houses, and having purchased a baby's teething powder and
+removed the label, had a congratulatory drink or two before going on
+board again. A chatter of voices from the forecastle warned him that the
+crew had returned, but the tongues ceased abruptly as he descended, and
+three pairs of eyes surveyed him in grim silence.
+
+“What's up?” he demanded.
+
+“Wot 'ave you been doin' to poor old Jem?” demanded Henshaw, sternly.
+
+“Nothin',” said the other, shortly.
+
+“You ain't been p'isoning 'im?” demanded Henshaw.
+
+“Certainly not,” said the cook, emphatically.
+
+“He ses you told 'im you p'isoned 'im,” said Henshaw, solemnly, “and 'e
+give you two shillings to get something to cure 'im. It's too late now.”
+
+“What?” stammered the bewildered cook. He looked round anxiously at the
+men.
+
+They were all very grave, and the silence became oppressive. “Where is
+he?” he demanded.
+
+Henshaw and the others exchanged glances. “He's gone mad,” said he,
+slowly.
+
+“Mad?” repeated the horrified cook, and, seeing the aversion of the
+crew, in a broken voice he narrated the way in which he had been
+victimized.
+
+“Well, you've done it now,” said Henshaw, when he had finished. “He's
+gone right orf 'is 'ed.”
+
+“Where is he?” inquired the cook.
+
+“Where you can't follow him,” said the other, slowly.
+
+“Heaven?” hazarded the unfortunate cook. “No; skipper's bunk,” said Lea.
+
+“Oh, can't I foller 'im?” said the cook, starting up. “I'll soon 'ave
+'im out o' that.”
+
+“Better leave 'im alone,” said Henshaw. “He was that wild we couldn't do
+nothing with 'im, singing an' larfin' and crying all together—I
+certainly thought he was p'isoned.”
+
+“I'll swear I ain't touched him,” said the cook.
+
+“Well, you've upset his reason,” said Henshaw; “there'll be an awful row
+when the skipper comes aboard and finds 'im in 'is bed.
+
+“'Well, come an' 'elp me to get 'im out,” said the cook.
+
+“I ain't going to be mixed up in it,” said Henshaw, shaking his head.
+
+“Don't you, Bill,” said the other two.
+
+“Wot the skipper'll say I don't know,” said Henshaw; “anyway, it'll be
+said to you, not——”
+
+“I'll go and get 'im out if 'e was five madmen,” said the cook,
+compressing his lips.
+
+“You'll harve to carry 'im out, then,” said Henshaw. “I don't wish you
+no 'arm, cook, and perhaps it would be as well to get 'im out afore the
+skipper or mate comes aboard. If it was me, I know what I should do.”
+
+“What?” inquired the cook, breathlessly.
+
+“Draw a sack over his head,” said Henshaw, impressively; “he'll scream
+like blazes as soon as you touch him, and rouse the folks ashore if you
+don't. Besides that, if you draw it well down it'll keep his arms fast.”
+
+The cook thanked him fervently, and routing out a sack, rushed hastily
+on deck, his departure being the signal for Mr. Henshaw and his friends
+to make preparations for retiring for the night so hastily as almost to
+savour of panic.
+
+The cook, after a hasty glance ashore, went softly below with the sack
+over his arm and felt his way in the darkness to the skipper's bunk. The
+sound of deep and regular breathing reassured him, and without undue
+haste he opened the mouth of the sack and gently raised the sleeper's
+head.
+
+“Eh? Wha——” began a sleepy voice.
+
+The next moment the cook had bagged him, and gripping him tightly round
+the middle, turned a deaf ear to the smothered cries of his victim as he
+strove to lift him out of the bunk. In the exciting time which followed,
+he had more than one reason for thinking that he had caught a centipede.
+
+“Now, you keep still,” he cried, breathlessly. “I'm not going to hurt
+you.”
+
+He got his burden out of bed at last, and staggered to the foot of the
+companion-ladder with it. Then there was a halt, two legs sticking
+obstinately across the narrow way and refusing to be moved, while a
+furious humming proceeded from the other end of the sack.
+
+Four times did the exhausted cook get his shoulder under his burden and
+try and push it up the ladder, and four times did it wriggle and fight
+its way down again. Half crazy with fear and rage, he essayed it for the
+fifth time, and had got it half-way up when there was a sudden
+exclamation of surprise from above, and the voice of the mate sharply
+demanding an explanation.
+
+“What the blazes are you up to?” he cried.
+
+“It's all right, sir,” said the panting cook; “old Jem's had a drop too
+much and got down aft, and I'm getting 'im for'ard again.”
+
+“Jem?” said the astonished mate. “Why, he's sitting up here on the
+fore-hatch. He came aboard with me.”
+
+“Sitting,” began the horrified cook; “sit—oh, lor!”
+
+He stood with his writhing burden wedged between his body and the
+ladder, and looked up despairingly at the mate.
+
+“I'm afraid I've made a mistake,” he said in a trembling voice.
+
+The mate struck a match and looked down.
+
+“Take that sack off,” he demanded, sternly.
+
+The cook placed his burden upon its feet, and running up the ladder
+stood by the mate shivering. The latter struck another match, and the
+twain watched in breathless silence the writhings of the strange
+creature below as the covering worked slowly upwards. In the fourth
+match it got free, and revealed the empurpled visage of the master of
+the Susannah. For the fraction of a second the cook gazed at him in
+speechless horror, and then, with a hopeless cry, sprang ashore and ran
+for it, hotly pursued by his enraged victim. At the time of sailing he
+was still absent, and the skipper, loth to part two such friends, sent
+Mr. James Lister, at the urgent request of the anxious crew, to look for
+him.
+
+
+
+
+THE WHITE CAT
+
+
+
+
+The traveller stood looking from the tap-room window of the Cauliflower
+at the falling rain. The village street below was empty, and everything
+was quiet with the exception of the garrulous old man smoking with much
+enjoyment on the settle behind him.
+
+“It'll do a power o' good,” said the ancient, craning his neck round the
+edge of the settle and turning a bleared eye on the window. “I ain't
+like some folk; I never did mind a drop o' rain.”
+
+The traveller grunted and, returning to the settle opposite the old man,
+fell to lazily stroking a cat which had strolled in attracted by the
+warmth of the small fire which smouldered in the grate.
+
+“He's a good mouser,” said the old man, “but I expect that Smith the
+landlord would sell 'im to anybody for arf a crown; but we 'ad a cat in
+Claybury once that you couldn't ha' bought for a hundred golden
+sovereigns.”
+
+The traveller continued to caress the cat.
+
+“A white cat, with one yaller eye and one blue one,” continued the old
+man. “It sounds queer, but it's as true as I sit 'ere wishing that I 'ad
+another mug o' ale as good as the last you gave me.”
+
+The traveller, with a start that upset the cat's nerves, finished his
+own mug, and then ordered both to be refilled. He stirred the fire into
+a blaze, and, lighting his pipe and putting one foot on to the hob,
+prepared to listen.
+
+It used to belong to old man Clark, young Joe Clark's uncle, said the
+ancient, smacking his lips delicately over the ale and extending a
+tremulous claw to the tobacco-pouch pushed towards him; and he was never
+tired of showing it off to people. He used to call it 'is blue-eyed
+darling, and the fuss 'e made o' that cat was sinful.
+
+Young Joe Clark couldn't bear it, but being down in 'is uncle's will for
+five cottages and a bit o' land bringing in about forty pounds a year,
+he 'ad to 'ide his feelings and pretend as he loved it. He used to take
+it little drops o' cream and tit-bits o' meat, and old Clark was so
+pleased that 'e promised 'im that he should 'ave the cat along with all
+the other property when 'e was dead.
+
+Young Joe said he couldn't thank 'im enough, and the old man, who 'ad
+been ailing a long time, made 'im come up every day to teach 'im 'ow to
+take care of it arter he was gone. He taught Joe 'ow to cook its meat
+and then chop it up fine; 'ow it liked a clean saucer every time for its
+milk; and 'ow he wasn't to make a noise when it was asleep.
+
+“Take care your children don't worry it, Joe,” he ses one day, very
+sharp. “One o' your boys was pulling its tail this morning, and I want
+you to clump his 'ead for 'im.”
+
+“Which one was it?” ses Joe.
+
+“The slobbery-nosed one,” ses old Clark.
+
+“I'll give 'im a clout as soon as I get 'ome,” ses Joe, who was very
+fond of 'is children.
+
+“Go and fetch 'im and do it 'ere,” ses the old man; “that'll teach 'im
+to love animals.”
+
+Joe went off 'ome to fetch the boy, and arter his mother 'ad washed his
+face, and wiped his nose, an' put a clean pinneyfore on 'im, he took 'im
+to 'is uncle's and clouted his 'ead for 'im. Arter that Joe and 'is wife
+'ad words all night long, and next morning old Clark, coming in from the
+garden, was just in time to see 'im kick the cat right acrost the
+kitchen.
+
+He could 'ardly speak for a minute, and when 'e could Joe see plain wot
+a fool he'd been. Fust of all 'e called Joe every name he could think
+of— which took 'im a long time—and then he ordered 'im out of 'is house.
+
+“You shall 'ave my money wen your betters have done with it,” he ses,
+“and not afore. That's all you've done for yourself.”
+
+Joe Clark didn't know wot he meant at the time, but when old Clark died
+three months arterwards 'e found out. His uncle 'ad made a new will and
+left everything to old George Barstow for as long as the cat lived,
+providing that he took care of it. When the cat was dead the property
+was to go to Joe.
+
+The cat was only two years old at the time, and George Barstow, who was
+arf crazy with joy, said it shouldn't be 'is fault if it didn't live
+another twenty years.
+
+The funny thing was the quiet way Joe Clark took it. He didn't seem to
+be at all cut up about it, and when Henery Walker said it was a shame,
+'e said he didn't mind, and that George Barstow was a old man, and he
+was quite welcome to 'ave the property as long as the cat lived.
+
+“It must come to me by the time I'm an old man,” he ses, “ard that's all
+I care about.”
+
+Henery Walker went off, and as 'e passed the cottage where old Clark
+used to live, and which George Barstow 'ad moved into, 'e spoke to the
+old man over the palings and told 'im wot Joe Clark 'ad said. George
+Barstow only grunted and went on stooping and prying over 'is front
+garden.
+
+“Bin and lost something?” ses Henery Walker, watching 'im.
+
+“No; I'm finding,” ses George Barstow, very fierce, and picking up
+something. “That's the fifth bit o' powdered liver I've found in my
+garden this morning.”
+
+Henery Walker went off whistling, and the opinion he'd 'ad o' Joe Clark
+began to improve. He spoke to Joe about it that arternoon, and Joe said
+that if 'e ever accused 'im o' such a thing again he'd knock 'is 'ead
+off. He said that he 'oped the cat 'ud live to be a hundred, and that
+'e'd no more think of giving it poisoned meat than Henery Walker would
+of paying for 'is drink so long as 'e could get anybody else to do it
+for 'im.
+
+They 'ad bets up at this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse that evening as
+to 'ow long that cat 'ud live. Nobody gave it more than a month, and
+Bill Chambers sat and thought o' so many ways o' killing it on the sly
+that it was wunnerful to hear 'im.
+
+George Barstow took fright when he 'eard of them, and the care 'e took
+o' that cat was wunnerful to behold. Arf its time it was shut up in the
+back bedroom, and the other arf George Barstow was fussing arter it till
+that cat got to hate 'im like pison. Instead o' giving up work as he'd
+thought to do, 'e told Henery Walker that 'e'd never worked so 'ard in
+his life.
+
+“Wot about fresh air and exercise for it?” ses Henery.
+
+“Wot about Joe Clark?” ses George Bar-stow. “I'm tied 'and and foot. I
+dursent leave the house for a moment. I ain't been to the Cauliflower
+since I've 'ad it, and three times I got out o' bed last night to see if
+it was safe.”
+
+“Mark my words,” ses Henery Walker; “if that cat don't 'ave exercise,
+you'll lose it.
+
+“I shall lose it if it does 'ave exercise,” ses George Barstow, “that I
+know.”
+
+He sat down thinking arter Henery Walker 'ad gone, and then he 'ad a
+little collar and chain made for it, and took it out for a walk. Pretty
+nearly every dog in Claybury went with 'em, and the cat was in such a
+state o' mind afore they got 'ome he couldn't do anything with it. It
+'ad a fit as soon as they got indoors, and George Barstow, who 'ad read
+about children's fits in the almanac, gave it a warm bath. It brought it
+round immediate, and then it began to tear round the room and up and
+downstairs till George Barstow was afraid to go near it.
+
+It was so bad that evening, sneezing, that George Barstow sent for Bill
+Chambers, who'd got a good name for doctoring animals, and asked 'im to
+give it something. Bill said he'd got some powders at 'ome that would
+cure it at once, and he went and fetched 'em and mixed one up with a bit
+o' butter.
+
+“That's the way to give a cat medicine,” he ses; “smear it with the
+butter and then it'll lick it off, powder and all.”
+
+He was just going to rub it on the cat when George Barstow caught 'old
+of 'is arm and stopped 'im.
+
+“How do I know it ain't pison?” he ses. “You're a friend o' Joe Clark's,
+and for all I know he may ha' paid you to pison it.”
+
+“I wouldn't do such a thing,” ses Bill. “You ought to know me better
+than that.”
+
+“All right,” ses George Barstow; “you eat it then, and I'll give you two
+shillings in stead o' one. You can easy mix some more.”
+
+“Not me,” ses Bill Chambers, making a face.
+
+“Well, three shillings, then,” ses George Barstow, getting more and more
+suspicious like; “four shillings—five shillings.”
+
+Bill Chambers shook his 'ead, and George Barstow, more and more certain
+that he 'ad caught 'im trying to kill 'is cat and that 'e wouldn't eat
+the stuff, rose 'im up to ten shillings.
+
+Bill looked at the butter and then 'e looked at the ten shillings on the
+table, and at last he shut 'is eyes and gulped it down and put the money
+in 'is pocket.
+
+“You see, I 'ave to be careful, Bill,” ses George Barstow, rather upset.
+
+Bill Chambers didn't answer 'im. He sat there as white as a sheet, and
+making such extraordinary faces that George was arf afraid of 'im.
+
+“Anything wrong, Bill?” he ses at last.
+
+Bill sat staring at 'im, and then all of a sudden he clapped 'is
+'andkerchief to 'is mouth and, getting up from his chair, opened the
+door and rushed out. George Barstow thought at fust that he 'ad eaten
+pison for the sake o' the ten shillings, but when 'e remembered that
+Bill Chambers 'ad got the most delikit stummick in Claybury he altered
+'is mind.
+
+The cat was better next morning, but George Barstow had 'ad such a
+fright about it 'e wouldn't let it go out of 'is sight, and Joe Clark
+began to think that 'e would 'ave to wait longer for that property than
+'e had thought, arter all. To 'ear 'im talk anybody'd ha' thought that
+'e loved that cat. We didn't pay much attention to it up at the
+Cauliflower 'ere, except maybe to wink at 'im—a thing he couldn't a
+bear—but at 'ome, o' course, his young 'uns thought as everything he
+said was Gospel; and one day, coming 'ome from work, as he was passing
+George Barstow's he was paid out for his deceitfulness.
+
+“I've wronged you, Joe Clark,” ses George Barstow, coming to the door,
+“and I'm sorry for it.”
+
+“Oh!” ses Joe, staring.
+
+“Give that to your little Jimmy,” ses George Barstow, giving 'im a
+shilling. “I've give 'im one, but I thought arterwards it wasn't
+enough.”
+
+“What for?” ses Joe, staring at 'im agin.
+
+“For bringing my cat 'ome,” ses George Barstow. “'Ow it got out I can't
+think, but I lost it for three hours, and I'd about given it up when
+your little Jimmy brought it to me in 'is arms. He's a fine little chap
+and 'e does you credit.”
+
+Joe Clark tried to speak, but he couldn't get a word out, and Henery
+Walker, wot 'ad just come up and 'eard wot passed, took hold of 'is arm
+and helped 'im home. He walked like a man in a dream, but arf-way he
+stopped and cut a stick from the hedge to take 'ome to little Jimmy. He
+said the boy 'ad been asking him for a stick for some time, but up till
+then 'e'd always forgotten it.
+
+At the end o' the fust year that cat was still alive, to everybody's
+surprise; but George Barstow took such care of it 'e never let it out of
+'is sight. Every time 'e went out he took it with 'im in a hamper, and,
+to prevent its being pisoned, he paid Isaac Sawyer, who 'ad the biggest
+family in Claybury, sixpence a week to let one of 'is boys taste its
+milk before it had it.
+
+The second year it was ill twice, but the horse-doctor that George
+Barstow got for it said that it was as 'ard as nails, and with care it
+might live to be twenty. He said that it wanted more fresh air and
+exercise; but when he 'eard 'ow George Barstow come by it he said that
+p'r'aps it would live longer indoors arter all.
+
+At last one day, when George Barstow 'ad been living on the fat o' the
+land for nearly three years, that cat got out agin. George 'ad raised
+the front-room winder two or three inches to throw something outside,
+and, afore he knew wot was 'appening, the cat was out-side and going up
+the road about twenty miles an hour.
+
+George Barstow went arter it, but he might as well ha' tried to catch
+the wind. The cat was arf wild with joy at getting out agin, and he
+couldn't get within arf a mile of it.
+
+He stayed out all day without food or drink, follering it about until it
+came on dark, and then, o' course, he lost sight of it, and, hoping
+against 'ope that it would come home for its food, he went 'ome and
+waited for it. He sat up all night dozing in a chair in the front room
+with the door left open, but it was all no use; and arter thinking for a
+long time wot was best to do, he went out and told some o' the folks it
+was lost and offered a reward of five pounds for it.
+
+You never saw such a hunt then in all your life. Nearly every man,
+woman, and child in Claybury left their work or school and went to try
+and earn that five pounds. By the arternoon George Barstow made it ten
+pounds provided the cat was brought 'ome safe and sound, and people as
+was too old to walk stood at their cottage doors to snap it up as it
+came by.
+
+Joe Clark was hunting for it 'igh and low, and so was 'is wife and the
+boys. In fact, I b'lieve that everybody in Claybury excepting the parson
+and Bob Pretty was trying to get that ten pounds.
+
+O' course, we could understand the parson—'is pride wouldn't let 'im;
+but a low, poaching, thieving rascal like Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose
+at ten pounds was more than we could make out. Even on the second day,
+when George Barstow made it ten pounds down and a shilling a week for a
+year besides, he didn't offer to stir; all he did was to try and make
+fun o' them as was looking for it.
+
+“Have you looked everywhere you can think of for it, Bill?” he ses to
+Bill Chambers. “Yes, I 'ave,” ses Bill.
+
+“Well, then, you want to look everywhere else,” ses Bob Pretty. “I know
+where I should look if I wanted to find it.”
+
+“Why don't you find it, then?” ses Bill.
+
+“'Cos I don't want to make mischief,” ses Bob Pretty. “I don't want to
+be unneighbourly to Joe Clark by interfering at all.”
+
+“Not for all that money?” ses Bill.
+
+“Not for fifty pounds,” ses Bob Pretty; “you ought to know me better
+than that, Bill Chambers.”
+
+“It's my belief that you know more about where that cat is than you
+ought to,” ses Joe Gubbins.
+
+“You go on looking for it, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty, grinning; “it's good
+exercise for you, and you've only lost two days' work.”
+
+“I'll give you arf a crown if you let me search your 'ouse, Bob,” ses
+Bill Chambers, looking at 'im very 'ard.
+
+“I couldn't do it at the price, Bill,” ses Bob Pretty, shaking his 'ead.
+“I'm a pore man, but I'm very partikler who I 'ave come into my 'ouse.”
+
+O' course, everybody left off looking at once when they heard about Bob—
+not that they believed that he'd be such a fool as to keep the cat in
+his 'ouse; and that evening, as soon as it was dark, Joe Clark went
+round to see 'im.
+
+“Don't tell me as that cat's found, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty, as Joe opened
+the door.
+
+“Not as I've 'eard of,” said Joe, stepping inside. “I wanted to speak to
+you about it; the sooner it's found the better I shall be pleased.”
+
+“It does you credit, Joe Clark,” ses Bob Pretty.
+
+“It's my belief that it's dead,” ses Joe, looking at 'im very 'ard; “but
+I want to make sure afore taking over the property.”
+
+Bob Pretty looked at 'im and then he gave a little cough. “Oh, you want
+it to be found dead,” he ses. “Now, I wonder whether that cat's worth
+most dead or alive?”
+
+Joe Clark coughed then. “Dead, I should think,” he ses at last. “George
+Barstow's just 'ad bills printed offering fifteen pounds for it,” ses
+Bob Pretty.
+
+“I'll give that or more when I come into the property,” ses Joe Clark.
+
+“There's nothing like ready-money, though, is there?” ses Bob.
+
+“I'll promise it to you in writing, Bob,” ses Joe, trembling.
+
+“There's some things that don't look well in writing, Joe,” says Bob
+Pretty, considering; “besides, why should you promise it to me?”
+
+“O' course, I meant if you found it,” ses Joe.
+
+“Well, I'll do my best, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty; “and none of us can do no
+more than that, can they?”
+
+They sat talking and argufying over it for over an hour, and twice Bob
+Pretty got up and said 'e was going to see whether George Barstow
+wouldn't offer more. By the time they parted they was as thick as
+thieves, and next morning Bob Pretty was wearing Joe Clark's watch and
+chain, and Mrs. Pretty was up at Joe's 'ouse to see whether there was
+any of 'is furniture as she 'ad a fancy for.
+
+She didn't seem to be able to make up 'er mind at fust between a chest
+o' drawers that 'ad belonged to Joe's mother and a grand-father clock.
+She walked from one to the other for about ten minutes, and then Bob,
+who 'ad come in to 'elp her, told 'er to 'ave both.
+
+“You're quite welcome,” he ses; “ain't she, Joe?”
+
+Joe Clark said “Yes,” and arter he 'ad helped them carry 'em 'ome the
+Prettys went back and took the best bedstead to pieces, cos Bob said as
+it was easier to carry that way. Mrs. Clark 'ad to go and sit down at
+the bottom o' the garden with the neck of 'er dress undone to give
+herself air, but when she saw the little Prettys each walking 'ome with
+one of 'er best chairs on their 'eads she got and walked up and down
+like a mad thing.
+
+“I'm sure I don't know where we are to put it all,” ses Bob Pretty to
+Joe Gubbins, wot was looking on with other folks, “but Joe Clark is that
+generous he won't 'ear of our leaving anything.”
+
+“Has 'e gorn mad?” ses Bill Chambers, staring at 'im.
+
+“Not as I knows on,” ses Bob Pretty. “It's 'is good-'artedness, that's
+all. He feels sure that that cat's dead, and that he'll 'ave George
+Barstow's cottage and furniture. I told 'im he'd better wait till he'd
+made sure, but 'e wouldn't.”
+
+Before they'd finished the Prettys 'ad picked that 'ouse as clean as a
+bone, and Joe Clark 'ad to go and get clean straw for his wife and
+children to sleep on; not that Mrs. Clark 'ad any sleep that night, nor
+Joe neither.
+
+Henery Walker was the fust to see what it really meant, and he went
+rushing off as fast as 'e could run to tell George Barstow. George
+couldn't believe 'im at fust, but when 'e did he swore that if a 'air of
+that cat's head was harmed 'e'd 'ave the law o' Bob Pretty, and arter
+Henery Walker 'ad gone 'e walked round to tell 'im so.
+
+“You're not yourself, George Barstow, else you wouldn't try and take
+away my character like that,” ses Bob Pretty.
+
+“Wot did Joe Clark give you all them things for?” ses George, pointing
+to the furniture.
+
+“Took a fancy to me, I s'pose,” ses Bob. “People do sometimes. There's
+something about me at times that makes 'em like me.”
+
+“He gave 'em to you to kill my cat,” ses George Barstow. “It's plain
+enough for any-body to see.”
+
+Bob Pretty smiled. “I expect it'll turn up safe and sound one o' these
+days,” he ses, “and then you'll come round and beg my pardon. P'r'aps—”
+
+“P'r'aps wot?” ses George Barstow, arter waiting a bit.
+
+“P'r'aps somebody 'as got it and is keeping it till you've drawed the
+fifteen pounds out o' the bank,” ses Bob, looking at 'im very hard.
+
+“I've taken it out o' the bank,” ses George, starting; “if that cat's
+alive, Bob, and you've got it, there's the fifteen pounds the moment you
+'and it over.”
+
+“Wot d'ye mean—me got it?” ses Bob Pretty. “You be careful o' my
+character.”
+
+“I mean if you know where it is,” ses George Barstow trembling all over.
+
+“I don't say I couldn't find it, if that's wot you mean,” ses Bob. “I
+can gin'rally find things when I want to.”
+
+“You find me that cat, alive and well, and the money's yours, Bob,” ses
+George, 'ardly able to speak, now that 'e fancied the cat was still
+alive.
+
+Bob Pretty shook his 'ead. “No; that won't do,” he ses. “S'pose I did
+'ave the luck to find that pore animal, you'd say I'd had it all the
+time and refuse to pay.”
+
+“I swear I wouldn't, Bob,” ses George Barstow, jumping up.
+
+“Best thing you can do if you want me to try and find that cat,” says
+Bob Pretty, “is to give me the fifteen pounds now, and I'll go and look
+for it at once. I can't trust you, George Barstow.”
+
+“And I can't trust you,” ses George Barstow.
+
+“Very good,” ses Bob, getting up; “there's no 'arm done. P'r'aps Joe
+Clark 'll find the cat is dead and p'r'aps you'll find it's alive. It's
+all one to me.”
+
+George Barstow walked off 'ome, but he was in such a state o' mind 'e
+didn't know wot to do. Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose at fifteen pounds
+like that made 'im think that Joe Clark 'ad promised to pay 'im more if
+the cat was dead; and at last, arter worrying about it for a couple o'
+hours, 'e came up to this 'ere Cauliflower and offered Bob the fifteen
+pounds.
+
+“Wot's this for?” ses Bob.
+
+“For finding my cat,” ses George.
+
+“Look here,” ses Bob, handing it back, “I've 'ad enough o' your insults;
+I don't know where your cat is.”
+
+“I mean for trying to find it, Bob,” ses George Barstow.
+
+“Oh, well, I don't mind that,” ses Bob, taking it. “I'm a 'ard-working
+man, and I've got to be paid for my time; it's on'y fair to my wife and
+children. I'll start now.”
+
+He finished up 'is beer, and while the other chaps was telling George
+Barstow wot a fool he was Joe Clark slipped out arter Bob Pretty and
+began to call 'im all the names he could think of.
+
+“Don't you worry,” ses Bob; “the cat ain't found yet.”
+
+“Is it dead?” ses Joe Clark, 'ardly able to speak.
+
+“'Ow should I know?” ses Bob; “that's wot I've got to try and find out.
+That's wot you gave me your furniture for, and wot George Barstow gave
+me the fifteen pounds for, ain't it? Now, don't you stop me now, 'cos
+I'm goin' to begin looking.”
+
+He started looking there and then, and for the next two or three days
+George Barstow and Joe Clark see 'im walking up and down with his 'ands
+in 'is pockets looking over garden fences and calling “Puss.” He asked
+everybody 'e see whether they 'ad seen a white cat with one blue eye and
+one yaller one, and every time 'e came into the Cauliflower he put his
+'ead over the bar and called “Puss,” 'cos, as 'e said, it was as likely
+to be there as anywhere else.
+
+It was about a week after the cat 'ad disappeared that George Barstow
+was standing at 'is door talking to Joe Clark, who was saying the cat
+must be dead and 'e wanted 'is property, when he sees a man coming up
+the road carrying a basket stop and speak to Bill Chambers. Just as 'e
+got near them an awful “miaow” come from the basket and George Barstow
+and Joe Clark started as if they'd been shot.
+
+“He's found it?” shouts Bill Chambers, pointing to the man.
+
+“It's been living with me over at Ling for a week pretty nearly,” ses
+the man. “I tried to drive it away several times, not knowing that there
+was fifteen pounds offered for it.”
+
+George Barstow tried to take 'old of the basket.
+
+“I want that fifteen pounds fust,” ses the man.
+
+“That's on'y right and fair, George,” ses Bob Pretty, who 'ad just come
+up. “You've got all the luck, mate. We've been hunting 'igh and low for
+that cat for a week.”
+
+Then George Barstow tried to explain to the man and call Bob Pretty
+names at the same time; but it was all no good. The man said it 'ad
+nothing to do with 'im wot he 'ad paid to Bob Pretty; and at last they
+fetched Policeman White over from Cudford, and George Barstow signed a
+paper to pay five shillings a week till the reward was paid.
+
+George Barstow 'ad the cat for five years arter that, but he never let
+it get away agin. They got to like each other in time and died within a
+fortnight of each other, so that Joe Clark got 'is property arter all.
+
+                                  ――――
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAINS ALL ***
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+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Captains All, by W.W. Jacobs</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Captains All</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: W.W. Jacobs</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 30, 2006 [eBook #11191]<br />
+[Most recently updated: December 17, 2022]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAINS ALL ***</div>
+
+      <div class="line-block outermost">
+        <div class="center line">
+          <span class="bold x-large">CAPTAINS ALL</span>
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+           
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+          <cite class="italics">By</cite>
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+           
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+          <span class="large">W. W. JACOBS</span>
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+           
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+           
+        </div>
+        <div class="center line">
+          <span>1911</span>
+        </div>
+      </div>
+      <div class="container margin transition">
+        <p class="center pfirst">
+          <span>????</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="id1">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <span>CONTENTS</span>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="container contents">
+          <ul class="compact simple toc-list">
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#illustrations" id="id13">ILLUSTRATIONS</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id2" id="id14">CAPTAINS ALL</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#the-boatswains-mate"
+                id="id15">THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#the-nest-egg" id="id16">THE
+                NEST EGG</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#the-constables-move"
+                id="id17">THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#bobs-redemption" id="id18">BOB'S
+                REDEMPTION</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#over-the-side" id="id19">OVER
+                THE SIDE</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#the-four-pigeons" id="id20">THE
+                FOUR PIGEONS</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#the-temptation-of-samuel-burge" id="id21">THE TEMPTATION
+                OF SAMUEL BURGE</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#the-madness-of-mr-lister"
+                id="id22">THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+            <li class="level-2 toc-entry">
+              <p class="first pfirst">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#the-white-cat" id="id23">THE
+                WHITE CAT</a>
+              </p>
+            </li>
+          </ul>
+        </div>
+      </div>
+      <div class="container margin transition">
+        <p class="center pfirst">
+          <span>????</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="align-center auto-scaled block figure" style="width: 68%">
+        <img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%"
+        alt=" " src="images/cover.jpg" />
+      </div>
+      <div class="align-center auto-scaled block figure" style="width: 68%">
+        <img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%"
+        alt=" " src="images/frontispiece.jpg" />
+      </div>
+      <div class="container margin transition">
+        <p class="center pfirst">
+          <span>????</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="illustrations">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id13"><span>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <blockquote>
+          <div>
+            <div class="line-block outermost">
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id3">“Captains All.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id4">“The Boatswain's
+                Mate.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#i-gives-you-the-two-quid-afore-you-go-into-the-house-continued-the-boatswain">“'I
+                Gives You the Two Quid Afore You Go Into The House,' Continued
+                the Boatswain.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id5">“The Nest Egg.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#he-said-it-was-a-bad-road-and-a-little-shop-and-ad-got-a-look-about-it-he-didnt-like">“He
+                Said It Was a Bad Road and A Little Shop, And 'ad Got A Look
+                About It he Didn't Like.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id6">“The Constable's
+                Move.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#mr-grummit-suddenly-remembering-himself-stopped-short-and-attacked-the-bed-with-extraordinary-fury">“Mr.
+                Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short And
+                Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id7">“Bob's Redemption.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#afore-george-had-settled-with-the-cabman-there-was-a-policeman-moving-the-crowd-on">“Afore
+                George Had Settled With the Cabman, There Was A Policeman Moving
+                the Crowd On.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id8">“Over the Side.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id9">“The Four Pigeons.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#the-fust-bob-pretty-eard-of-it-was-up-at-the-cauliflower-at-eight-oclock-that-evening">“The
+                Fust Bob Pretty 'eard of It Was up at The cauliflower at Eight
+                O'clock That Evening.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id10">“The Temptation of
+                Samuel Burge.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id11">“The Madness of Mr.
+                Lister.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#a-friendship-sprang-up-between-the-two-men-which-puzzled-the-remainder-of-the-crew-not-a-little">“A
+                Friendship Sprang up Between the Two Men Which Puzzled The
+                Remainder of the Crew Not a Little.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal" href="#id12">“The White Cat.”</a>
+              </div>
+              <div class="line">
+                <a class="reference internal"
+                href="#he-ad-a-little-collar-and-chain-made-for-it-and-took-it-out-for-a-walk">“He
+                'ad a Little Collar and Chain Made for It, And Took It Out for a
+                Walk.”</a>
+              </div>
+            </div>
+          </div>
+        </blockquote>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="id2">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id14"><span>CAPTAINS ALL</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-171">
+          <span id="id3"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/001.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">E</span><span
+          class="dropspan">very sailorman grumbles</span><span> about the sea,
+          said the night-watchman, thoughtfully. It's human nature to grumble,
+          and I s'pose they keep on grumbling and sticking to it because there
+          ain't much else they can do. There's not many shore-going berths that
+          a sailorman is fit for, and those that they are—such as a
+          night-watchman's, for instance—wants such a good character that
+          there's few as are to equal it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sometimes they get things to do ashore. I knew one man that took
+          up butchering, and 'e did very well at it till the police took him up.
+          Another man I knew gave up the sea to marry a washerwoman, and they
+          hadn't been married six months afore she died, and back he 'ad to go
+          to sea agin, pore chap.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>A man who used to grumble awful about the sea was old Sam
+          Small—a man I've spoke of to you before. To hear 'im go on about the
+          sea, arter he 'ad spent four or five months' money in a fortnight, was
+          'artbreaking. He used to ask us wot was going to happen to 'im in his
+          old age, and when we pointed out that he wouldn't be likely to 'ave
+          any old age if he wasn't more careful of 'imself he used to fly into a
+          temper and call us everything 'e could lay his tongue to.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>One time when 'e was ashore with Peter Russet and Ginger Dick he
+          seemed to 'ave got it on the brain. He started being careful of 'is
+          money instead o' spending it, and three mornings running he bought a
+          newspaper and read the advertisements, to see whether there was any
+          comfortable berth for a strong, good-'arted man wot didn't like work.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He actually went arter one situation, and, if it hadn't ha' been
+          for seventy-nine other men, he said he believed he'd ha' had a good
+          chance of getting it. As it was, all 'e got was a black eye for
+          shoving another man, and for a day or two he was so down-'arted that
+          'e was no company at all for the other two.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For three or four days 'e went out by 'imself, and then, all of
+          a sudden, Ginger Dick and Peter began to notice a great change in him.
+          He seemed to 'ave got quite cheerful and 'appy. He answered 'em back
+          pleasant when they spoke to 'im, and one night he lay in 'is bed
+          whistling comic songs until Ginger and Peter Russet 'ad to get out o'
+          bed to him. When he bought a new necktie and a smart cap and washed
+          'imself twice in one day they fust began to ask each other wot was up,
+          and then they asked him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Up?” ses Sam; “nothing.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's in love,” ses Peter Russet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're a liar,” ses Sam, without turning round.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He'll 'ave it bad at 'is age,” ses Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sam didn't say nothing, but he kept fidgeting about as though
+          'e'd got something on his mind. Fust he looked out o' the winder, then
+          he 'ummed a tune, and at last, looking at 'em very fierce, he took a
+          tooth-brush wrapped in paper out of 'is pocket and began to clean 'is
+          teeth.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He is in love,” ses Ginger, as soon as he could speak.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Or else 'e's gorn mad,” ses Peter, watching 'im. “Which is it,
+          Sam?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sam made believe that he couldn't answer 'im because o' the
+          tooth-brush, and arter he'd finished he 'ad such a raging toothache
+          that 'e sat in a corner holding 'is face and looking the pictur' o'
+          misery. They couldn't get a word out of him till they asked 'im to go
+          out with them, and then he said 'e was going to bed. Twenty minutes
+          arterwards, when Ginger Dick stepped back for 'is pipe, he found he
+          'ad gorn.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He tried the same game next night, but the other two wouldn't
+          'ave it, and they stayed in so long that at last 'e lost 'is temper,
+          and, arter wondering wot Ginger's father and mother could ha' been
+          a-thinking about, and saying that he believed Peter Russet 'ad been
+          changed at birth for a sea-sick monkey, he put on 'is cap and went
+          out. Both of 'em follered 'im sharp, but when he led 'em to a
+          mission-hall, and actually went inside, they left 'im and went off on
+          their own.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They talked it over that night between themselves, and next
+          evening they went out fust and hid themselves round the corner. Ten
+          minutes arterwards old Sam came out, walking as though 'e was going to
+          catch a train; and smiling to think 'ow he 'ad shaken them off. At the
+          corner of Commercial Road he stopped and bought 'imself a button-hole
+          for 'is coat, and Ginger was so surprised that 'e pinched Peter Russet
+          to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam walked straight on whistling, and every now and then
+          looking down at 'is button-hole, until by-and-by he turned down a
+          street on the right and went into a little shop. Ginger Dick and Peter
+          waited for 'im at the corner, but he was inside for so long that at
+          last they got tired o' waiting and crept up and peeped through the
+          winder.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It was a little tobacconist's shop, with newspapers and penny
+          toys and such-like; but, as far as Ginger could see through two rows
+          o' pipes and the Police News, it was empty. They stood there with
+          their noses pressed against the glass for some time, wondering wot had
+          'appened to Sam, but by-and-by a little boy went in and then they
+          began to 'ave an idea wot Sam's little game was.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>As the shop-bell went the door of a little parlour at the back
+          of the shop opened, and a stout and uncommon good-looking woman of
+          about forty came out. Her 'ead pushed the Police News out o' the way
+          and her 'and came groping into the winder arter a toy.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger 'ad a good look at 'er out o' the corner of one eye,
+          while he pretended to be looking at a tobacco-jar with the other. As
+          the little boy came out 'im and Peter Russet went in.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I want a pipe, please,” he ses, smiling at 'er; “a clay
+          pipe—one o' your best.” The woman handed 'im down a box to choose
+          from, and just then Peter, wot 'ad been staring in at the arf-open
+          door at a boot wot wanted lacing up, gave a big start and ses, “Why!
+          Halloa!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot's the matter?” ses the woman, looking at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'd know that foot anywhere,” ses Peter, still staring at it;
+          and the words was hardly out of 'is mouth afore the foot 'ad moved
+          itself away and tucked itself under its chair. “Why, that's my dear
+          old friend Sam Small, ain't it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Do you know the captin?” ses the woman, smiling at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Cap——?” ses Peter. “Cap——? Oh, yes; why, he's the biggest
+          friend I've got.” “'Ow strange!” ses the woman.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We've been wanting to see 'im for some time,” ses Ginger. “He
+          was kind enough to lend me arf a crown the other day, and I've been
+          wanting to pay 'im.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Captin Small,” ses the woman, pushing open the door, “here's
+          some old friends o' yours.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam turned 'is face round and looked at 'em, and if looks
+          could ha' killed, as the saying is, they'd ha' been dead men there and
+          then.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh, yes,” he ses, in a choking voice; “'ow are you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Pretty well, thank you, captin,” ses Ginger, grinning at 'im;
+          “and 'ow's yourself arter all this long time?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He held out 'is hand and Sam shook it, and then shook 'ands with
+          Peter Russet, who was grinning so 'ard that he couldn't speak.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“These are two old friends o' mine, Mrs. Finch,” ses old Sam,
+          giving 'em a warning look; “Captin Dick and Captin Russet, two o' the
+          oldest and best friends a man ever 'ad.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Captin Dick 'as got arf a crown for you,” ses Peter Russet,
+          still grinning.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There now,” ses Ginger, looking vexed, “if I ain't been and
+          forgot it; I've on'y got arf a sovereign.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I can give you change, sir,” ses Mrs. Finch. “P'r'aps you'd
+          like to sit down for five minutes?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger thanked 'er, and 'im and Peter Russet took a chair apiece
+          in front o' the fire and began asking old Sam about 'is 'ealth, and
+          wot he'd been doing since they saw 'im last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Fancy your reckernizing his foot,” ses Mrs. Finch, coming in
+          with the change.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'd know it anywhere,” ses Peter, who was watching Ginger
+          pretending to give Sam Small the 'arf-dollar, and Sam pretending in a
+          most lifelike manner to take it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger Dick looked round the room. It was a comfortable little
+          place, with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs,
+          and a row of pink vases on the mantelpiece. Then 'e looked at Mrs.
+          Finch, and thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty,
+          troublesome sailormen to look arter, Captin Small,” he ses.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's wonderful the way he manages 'em,” ses Peter Russet to
+          Mrs. Finch. “Like a lion he is.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A roaring lion,” ses Ginger, looking at Sam. “He don't know wot
+          fear is.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sam began to smile, and Mrs. Finch looked at 'im so pleased that
+          Peter Russet, who 'ad been looking at 'er and the room, and thinking
+          much the same way as Ginger, began to think that they was on the wrong
+          tack.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Afore 'e got stout and old,” he ses, shaking his 'ead, “there
+          wasn't a smarter skipper afloat.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We all 'ave our day,” ses Ginger, shaking his 'ead too.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I dessay he's good for another year or two afloat, yet,” ses
+          Peter Russet, considering. “With care,” ses Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam was going to say something, but 'e stopped himself just
+          in time. “They will 'ave their joke,” he ses, turning to Mrs. Finch
+          and trying to smile. “I feel as young as ever I did.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Finch said that anybody with arf an eye could see that, and
+          then she looked at a kettle that was singing on the 'ob.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I s'pose you gentlemen wouldn't care for a cup o' cocoa?” she
+          ses, turning to them.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger Dick and Peter both said that they liked it better than
+          anything else, and, arter she 'ad got out the cups and saucers and a
+          tin o' cocoa, Ginger held the kettle and poured the water in the cups
+          while she stirred them, and old Sam sat looking on 'elpless.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It does seem funny to see you drinking cocoa, captin,” ses
+          Ginger, as old Sam took his cup.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ho!” ses Sam, firing up; “and why, if I might make so bold as
+          to ask?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Cos I've generally seen you drinking something out of a
+          bottle,” ses Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Now, look 'ere,” ses Sam, starting up and spilling some of the
+          hot cocoa over 'is lap.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A ginger-beer bottle,” ses Peter Russet, making faces at Ginger
+          to keep quiet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes, o' course, that's wot I meant,” ses Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam wiped the cocoa off 'is knees without saying a word, but
+          his weskit kept going up and down till Peter Russet felt quite sorry
+          for 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's nothing like it,” he ses to Mrs. Finch. “It was by
+          sticking to ginger-beer and milk and such-like that Captain Small 'ad
+          command of a ship afore 'e was twenty-five.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Lor'!” ses Mrs. Finch.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She smiled at old Sam till Peter got uneasy agin, and began to
+          think p'r'aps 'e'd been praising 'im too much.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Of course, I'm speaking of long ago now,” he ses.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Years and years afore you was born, ma'am,” ses Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam was going to say something, but Mrs. Finch looked so
+          pleased that 'e thought better of it. Some o' the cocoa 'e was
+          drinking went the wrong way, and then Ginger patted 'im on the back
+          and told 'im to be careful not to bring on 'is brownchitis agin. Wot
+          with temper and being afraid to speak for fear they should let Mrs.
+          Finch know that 'e wasn't a captin, he could 'ardly bear 'imself, but
+          he very near broke out when Peter Russet advised 'im to 'ave his
+          weskit lined with red flannel. They all stayed on till closing time,
+          and by the time they left they 'ad made theirselves so pleasant that
+          Mrs. Finch said she'd be pleased to see them any time they liked to
+          look in.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sam Small waited till they 'ad turned the corner, and then he
+          broke out so alarming that they could 'ardly do anything with 'im.
+          Twice policemen spoke to 'im and advised 'im to go home afore they
+          altered their minds; and he 'ad to hold 'imself in and keep quiet
+          while Ginger and Peter Russet took 'is arms and said they were seeing
+          him 'ome.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He started the row agin when they got in-doors, and sat up in
+          'is bed smacking 'is lips over the things he'd like to 'ave done to
+          them if he could. And then, arter saying 'ow he'd like to see Ginger
+          boiled alive like a lobster, he said he knew that 'e was a
+          noble-'arted feller who wouldn't try and cut an old pal out, and that
+          it was a case of love at first sight on top of a tram-car.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She's too young for you,” ses Ginger; “and too good-looking
+          besides.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's the nice little bisness he's fallen in love with, Ginger,”
+          ses Peter Russet. “I'll toss you who 'as it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger, who was siting on the foot o' Sam's bed, said “no” at
+          fust, but arter a time he pulled out arf a dollar and spun it in the
+          air.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>That was the last 'e see of it, although he 'ad Sam out o' bed
+          and all the clothes stripped off of it twice. He spent over arf an
+          hour on his 'ands and knees looking for it, and Sam said when he was
+          tired of playing bears p'r'aps he'd go to bed and get to sleep like a
+          Christian.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They 'ad it all over agin next morning, and at last, as nobody
+          would agree to keep quiet and let the others 'ave a fair chance, they
+          made up their minds to let the best man win. Ginger Dick bought a
+          necktie that took all the colour out o' Sam's, and Peter Russet went
+          in for a collar so big that 'e was lost in it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They all strolled into the widow's shop separate that night.
+          Ginger Dick 'ad smashed his pipe and wanted another; Peter Russet
+          wanted some tobacco; and old Sam Small walked in smiling, with a
+          little silver brooch for 'er, that he said 'e had picked up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It was a very nice brooch, and Mrs. Finch was so pleased with it
+          that Ginger and Peter sat there as mad as they could be because they
+          'adn't thought of the same thing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Captain Small is very lucky at finding things,” ses Ginger, at
+          last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's got the name for it,” ses Peter Russet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's a handy 'abit,” ses Ginger; “it saves spending money. Who
+          did you give that gold bracelet to you picked up the other night,
+          captin?” he ses, turning to Sam.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Gold bracelet?” ses Sam. “I didn't pick up no gold bracelet.
+          Wot are you talking about?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“All right, captin; no offence,” ses Ginger, holding up his
+          'and. “I dreamt I saw one on your mantelpiece, I s'pose. P'r'aps I
+          oughtn't to ha' said anything about it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam looked as though he'd like to eat 'im, especially as he
+          noticed Mrs. Finch listening and pretending not to. “Oh! that one,” he
+          ses, arter a bit o' hard thinking. “Oh! I found out who it belonged
+          to. You wouldn't believe 'ow pleased they was at getting it back
+          agin.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger Dick coughed and began to think as 'ow old Sam was
+          sharper than he 'ad given 'im credit for, but afore he could think of
+          anything else to say Mrs. Finch looked at old Sam and began to talk
+          about 'is ship, and to say 'ow much she should like to see over it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I wish I could take you,” ses Sam, looking at the other two out
+          o' the corner of his eye, “but my ship's over at Dunkirk, in France.
+          I've just run over to London for a week or two to look round.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And mine's there too,” ses Peter Russet, speaking a'most afore
+          old Sam 'ad finished; “side by side they lay in the harbour.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh, dear,” ses Mrs. Finch, folding her 'ands and shaking her
+          'cad. “I should like to go over a ship one arternoon. I'd quite made
+          up my mind to it, knowing three captins.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She smiled and looked at Ginger; and Sam and Peter looked at 'im
+          too, wondering whether he was going to berth his ship at Dunkirk
+          alongside o' theirs.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ah, I wish I 'ad met you a fortnight ago,” ses Ginger, very
+          sad. “I gave up my ship, the High flyer, then, and I'm waiting for one
+          my owners are 'aving built for me at New-castle. They said the High
+          flyer wasn't big enough for me. She was a nice little ship, though. I
+          believe I've got 'er picture somewhere about me!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He felt in 'is pocket and pulled out a little, crumpled-up
+          photograph of a ship he'd been fireman aboard of some years afore, and
+          showed it to 'er.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's me standing on the bridge,” he ses, pointing out a
+          little dot with the stem of 'is pipe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's your figger,” ses Mrs. Finch, straining her eyes. “I
+          should know it anywhere.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You've got wonderful eyes, ma'am,” ses old Sam, choking with
+          'is pipe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Anybody can see that,” ses Ginger. “They're the largest and the
+          bluest I've ever seen.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Finch told 'im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter
+          Russet could see 'ow pleased she was.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Truth is truth,” ses Ginger. “I'm a plain man, and I speak my
+          mind.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Blue is my fav'rit' colour,” ses old Sam, in a tender voice.
+          “True blue.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Peter Russet began to feel out of it. “I thought brown was,” he
+          ses.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ho!” ses Sam, turning on 'im; “and why?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I 'ad my reasons,” ses Peter, nodding, and shutting 'is mouth
+          very firm.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought brown was 'is fav'rit colour too,” ses Ginger. “I
+          don't know why. It's no use asking me; because if you did I couldn't
+          tell you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Brown's a very nice colour,” ses Mrs. Finch, wondering wot was
+          the matter with old Sam.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Blue,” ses Ginger; “big blue eyes—they're the ones for me.
+          Other people may 'ave their blacks and their browns,” he ses, looking
+          at Sam and Peter Russet, “but give me blue.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They went on like that all the evening, and every time the
+          shop-bell went and the widow 'ad to go out to serve a customer they
+          said in w'ispers wot they thought of each other; and once when she
+          came back rather sudden Ginger 'ad to explain to 'er that 'e was
+          showing Peter Russet a scratch on his knuckle.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger Dick was the fust there next night, and took 'er a little
+          chiney teapot he 'ad picked up dirt cheap because it was cracked right
+          acrost the middle; but, as he explained that he 'ad dropped it in
+          hurrying to see 'er, she was just as pleased. She stuck it up on the
+          mantelpiece, and the things she said about Ginger's kindness and
+          generosity made Peter Russet spend good money that he wanted for
+          'imself on a painted flower-pot next evening.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>With three men all courting 'er at the same time Mrs. Finch had
+          'er hands full, but she took to it wonderful considering. She was so
+          nice and kind to 'em all that even arter a week's 'ard work none of
+          'em was really certain which she liked best.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They took to going in at odd times o' the day for tobacco and
+          such-like. They used to go alone then, but they all met and did the
+          polite to each other there of an evening, and then quarrelled all the
+          way 'ome.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then all of a sudden, without any warning, Ginger Dick and Peter
+          Russet left off going there. The fust evening Sam sat expecting them
+          every minute, and was so surprised that he couldn't take any advantage
+          of it; but on the second, beginning by squeezing Mrs. Finch's 'and at
+          ha'-past seven, he 'ad got best part of his arm round 'er waist by a
+          quarter to ten. He didn't do more that night because she told him to
+          be'ave 'imself, and threatened to scream if he didn't leave off.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was arf-way home afore 'e thought of the reason for Ginger
+          Dick and Peter Russet giving up, and then he went along smiling to
+          'imself to such an extent that people thought 'e was mad. He went off
+          to sleep with the smile still on 'is lips, and when Peter and Ginger
+          came in soon arter closing time and 'e woke up and asked them where
+          they'd been, 'e was still smiling.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I didn't 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you at Mrs. Finch's
+          to-night,” he ses.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No,” ses Ginger, very short. “We got tired of it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So un'ealthy sitting in that stuffy little room every evening,”
+          ses Peter.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam put his 'ead under the bedclothes and laughed till the
+          bed shook; and every now and then he'd put his 'ead out and look at
+          Peter and Ginger and laugh agin till he choked.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I see 'ow it is,” he ses, sitting up and wiping his eyes on the
+          sheet. “Well, we cant all win.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot d'ye mean?” ses Ginger, very disagreeable.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She wouldn't 'ave you, Sam, thats wot I mean. And I don't
+          wonder at it. I wouldn't 'ave you if I was a gal.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're dreaming, ses Peter Russet, sneering at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That flower-pot o' yours'll come in handy,” ses Sam, thinking
+          'ow he 'ad put 'is arm round the widow's waist; “and I thank you
+          kindly for the teapot, Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You don't mean to say as you've asked 'er to marry you?” ses
+          Ginger, looking at Peter Russet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not quite; but I'm going to,” ses Sam, “and I'll bet you even
+          arf-crowns she ses 'yes.'”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger wouldn't take 'im, and no more would Peter, not even when
+          he raised it to five shillings; and the vain way old Sam lay there
+          boasting and talking about 'is way with the gals made 'em both feel
+          ill.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I wouldn't 'ave her if she asked me on 'er bended knees,” ses
+          Ginger, holding up his 'ead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Nor me,” ses Peter. “You're welcome to 'er, Sam. When I think
+          of the evenings I've wasted over a fat old woman I feel——”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That'll do,” ses old Sam, very sharp; “that ain't the way to
+          speak of a lady, even if she 'as said 'no.'”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“All right, Sam,” ses Ginger. “You go in and win if you think
+          you're so precious clever.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam said that that was wot 'e was going to do, and he spent
+          so much time next morning making 'imself look pretty that the other
+          two could 'ardly be civil to him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He went off a'most direckly arter breakfast, and they didn't see
+          'im agin till twelve o'clock that night. He 'ad brought a bottle o'
+          whisky in with 'im, and he was so 'appy that they see plain wot had
+          'appened.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She said 'yes' at two o'clock in the arternoon,” ses old Sam,
+          smiling, arter they had 'ad a glass apiece. “I'd nearly done the trick
+          at one o'clock, and then the shop-bell went, and I 'ad to begin all
+          over agin. Still, it wasn't unpleasant.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Do you mean to tell us you've asked 'er to marry you?” ses
+          Ginger, 'olding out 'is glass to be filled agin.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I do,” ses Sam; “but I 'ope there's no ill-feeling. You never
+          'ad a chance, neither of you; she told me so.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Ginger Dick and Peter Russet stared at each other.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She said she 'ad been in love with me all along,” ses Sam,
+          filling their glasses agin to cheer 'em up. “We went out arter tea and
+          bought the engagement-ring, and then she got somebody to mind the shop
+          and we went to the Pagoda music-'all.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I 'ope you didn't pay much for the ring, Sam,” ses Ginger, who
+          always got very kind-'arted arter two or three glasses o' whisky. “If
+          I'd known you was going to be in such a hurry I might ha' told you
+          before.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We ought to ha' done,” ses Peter, shaking his 'ead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Told me?” ses Sam, staring at 'em. “Told me wot?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why me and Peter gave it up,” ses Ginger; “but, o' course,
+          p'r'aps you don't mind.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Mind wot?” ses Sam.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's wonderful 'ow quiet she kept it,” ses Peter.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam stared at 'em agin, and then he asked 'em to speak in
+          plain English wot they'd got to say, and not to go taking away the
+          character of a woman wot wasn't there to speak up for herself.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's nothing agin 'er character,” ses Ginger. “It's a credit to
+          her, looked at properly,” ses Peter Russet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And Sam'll 'ave the pleasure of bringing of 'em up,” ses
+          Ginger.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Bringing of 'em up?” ses Sam, in a trembling voice and turning
+          pale; “bringing who up?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why, 'er children,” ses Ginger. “Didn't she tell you? She's got
+          nine of 'em.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sam pretended not to believe 'em at fust, and said they was
+          jealous; but next day he crept down to the greengrocer's shop in the
+          same street, where Ginger had 'appened to buy some oranges one day,
+          and found that it was only too true. Nine children, the eldest of 'em
+          only fifteen, was staying with diff'rent relations owing to
+          scarlet-fever next door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Sam crept back 'ome like a man in a dream, with a bag of
+          oranges he didn't want, and, arter making a present of the
+          engagement-ring to Ginger—if 'e could get it—he took the fust train to
+          Tilbury and signed on for a v'y'ge to China.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-boatswains-mate">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id15"><span>THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-172">
+          <span id="id4"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/002.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">M</span><span
+          class="dropspan">r. George Benn, retired</span><span> boat-swain,
+          sighed noisily, and with a despondent gesture, turned to the door and
+          stood with the handle in his hand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the
+          tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair, eyed him with some heat.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My feelings'll never change,” said the boatswain.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Nor mine either,” said the landlady, sharply. “It's a strange
+          thing, Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third
+          mug.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's only to get my courage up,” pleaded the boatswain. “Next
+          time I'll do it afore I 'ave a drop; that'll prove to you I'm in
+          earnest.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could
+          make a selection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road
+          seemed hot and dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a
+          man whose hand has been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on
+          unheeding. His steps lagged, but his brain was active.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a
+          shady bank took a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his
+          pipe. The heat and the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung
+          from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes closed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and,
+          feeling in his pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder. He
+          saw a tall man carrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the
+          erect carriage, the keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty
+          in detecting the old soldier.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed
+          him pleasantly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?” he inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept
+          that luxury.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Lobster, ain't you?” he said, affably.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The tall man nodded. “Was,” he replied. “Now I'm my own
+          commander-in-chief.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Padding it?” suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him
+          and refilling his pipe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to
+          conversation dropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside
+          him. “I've got plenty of time,” he remarked.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence. A dim
+          idea which had been in his mind for some time began to clarify. He
+          stole a glance at his companion—a man of about thirty-eight, clear
+          eyes, with humorous wrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a
+          cheerful expression more than tinged with recklessness.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ain't over and above fond o' work?” suggested the boatswain,
+          when he had finished his inspection.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I love it,” said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the
+          air, “but we can't have all we want in this world; it wouldn't be good
+          for us.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed. Then he
+          rattled his pocket.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Would arf a quid be any good to you?” he inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Look here,” began the soldier; “just because I asked you for a
+          pipe o' baccy—”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No offence,” said the other, quickly. “I mean if you earned
+          it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. “Gardening
+          and windows?” he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain shook his head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Scrubbing, p'r'aps?” said the soldier, with a sigh of
+          resignation. “Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they
+          accused me of pouching the soap. Hang 'em!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And you didn't?” queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed
+          at him darkly. “I can't give it back to you,” he said, slowly,
+          “because I've smoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because
+          I've only got twopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey,
+          and next time a poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,”
+          expostulated the boat-swain. “I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.
+          Good reasons they was.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I spoke of arf a sovereign just now,” continued the boatswain,
+          impressively, “and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit
+          o' burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of
+          your honesty.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Burgling?” gasped the astonished soldier. “Honesty? 'Struth;
+          are you drunk or am I?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Meaning,” said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with
+          his hand, “for you to pretend to be a burglar.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We're both drunk, that's what it is,” said the other,
+          resignedly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain fidgeted. “If you don't agree, mum's the word and
+          no 'arm done,” he said, holding out his hand.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Mum's the word,” said the soldier, taking it. “My name's Ned
+          Travers, and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing
+          against it. Mind that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Might 'appen to anybody,” said Mr. Benn, soothingly. “You fill
+          your pipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of
+          adversity, stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown
+          away. Then he resumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the
+          other “fire away.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet,” said Mr. Benn,
+          slowly, “but it's in my mind's eye. It's been there off and on like
+          for some time.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge.
+          “Two miles from here, where I live,” he said, after several vigorous
+          puffs, “there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a
+          lady wot I've got my eye on.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier sat up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She won't 'ave me,” said the boatswain, with an air of mild
+          surprise.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier leaned back again.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She's a lone widder,” continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head,
+          “and the Beehive is in a lonely place. It's right through the village,
+          and the nearest house is arf a mile off.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Silly place for a pub,” commented Mr. Travers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've been telling her 'ow unsafe it is,” said the boatswain.
+          “I've been telling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she
+          only laughs at me. She don't believe it; d'ye see? Likewise I'm a
+          small man—small, but stiff. She likes tall men.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Most women do,” said Mr. Travers, sitting upright and
+          instinctively twisting his moustache. “When I was in the ranks—”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My idea is,” continued the boatswain, slightly raising his
+          voice, “to kill two birds with one stone—prove to her that she does
+          want being protected, and that I'm the man to protect her. D'ye take
+          my meaning, mate?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps.
+          “Like a lump o' wood,” he said, approvingly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My opinion is,” said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, “that
+          she loves me without knowing it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They often do,” said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his
+          head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed,” said the
+          other.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It does you credit,” remarked Mr. Travers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've got a good head,” said Mr. Benn, “else I shouldn't 'ave
+          got my rating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it
+          over in my mind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with
+          it. Now, if you do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all
+          right, damme I'll make it a quid.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Go on, Vanderbilt,” said Mr. Travers; “I'm listening.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain gazed at him fixedly. “You meet me 'ere in this
+          spot at eleven o'clock to-night,” he said, solemnly; “and I'll take
+          you to her 'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of. You
+          goes upstairs and alarms her, and she screams for help. I'm watching
+          the house, faithful-like, and hear 'er scream. I dashes in at the
+          winder, knocks you down, and rescues her. D'ye see?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I hear,” corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She clings to me,” continued the boat-swain, with a rapt
+          expression of face, “in her gratitood, and, proud of my strength and
+          pluck, she marries me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“An' I get a five years' honeymoon,” said the soldier.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder.
+          “In the excitement of the moment you spring up and escape,” he said,
+          with a kindly smile. “I've thought it all out. You can run much faster
+          than I can; any-ways, you will. The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off,
+          as I said, and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's,
+          ten miles away.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself. “Time I was
+          toddling,” he said, with a yawn. “Thanks for amusing me, mate.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You won't do it?” said the boatswain, eyeing him with much
+          concern.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm hanged if I do,” said the soldier, emphatically. “Accidents
+          will happen, and then where should I be?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If they did,” said the boatswain, “I'd own up and clear you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You might,” said Mr. Travers, “and then again you mightn't. So
+          long, mate.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I—I'll make it two quid,” said the boat-swain, trembling with
+          eagerness. “I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the
+          job.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his
+          shoulder. “Thankee,” he said, with mock gratitude.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Look 'ere,” said the boatswain, springing up and catching him
+          by the sleeve; “I'll give it to you in writing. Come, you ain't
+          faint-hearted? Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing.
+          If I give it to you in writing, and there should be an accident, it's
+          worse for me than it is for you, ain't it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his
+          head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house,”
+          continued the boatswain, hastily following up the impression he had
+          made. “I'd give 'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me. That's my
+          confidence in you; I likes the look of you. Soldier or sailor, when
+          there is a man's work to be done, give 'em to me afore anybody.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 69%" id="figure-173">
+          <span
+          id="i-gives-you-the-two-quid-afore-you-go-into-the-house-continued-the-boatswain"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/003.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the
+          ground. “Go on,” he said, slowly. “Write it out fair and square and
+          sign it, and I'm your man.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle
+          of papers from his pocket. “There's letters there with my name and
+          address on 'em,” he said. “It's all fair, square, and above-board.
+          When you've cast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in
+          silence, with various side glances at his companion as that enthusiast
+          sucked his pencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition. The
+          document finished—after several failures had been retrieved and burnt
+          by the careful Mr. Travers—the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and
+          handing it over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he
+          read it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Seems all right,” said the soldier, folding it up and putting
+          it in his waistcoat-pocket. “I'll be here at eleven to-night.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Eleven it is,” said the boatswain, briskly, “and, between
+          pals—here's arf a dollar to go on with.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He patted him on the shoulder again, and with a caution to keep
+          out of sight as much as possible till night walked slowly home. His
+          step was light, but he carried a face in which care and exultation
+          were strangely mingled.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>By ten o'clock that night care was in the ascendant, and by
+          eleven, when he discerned the red glow of Mr. Travers's pipe set as a
+          beacon against a dark background of hedge, the boatswain was ready to
+          curse his inventive powers. Mr. Travers greeted him cheerily and,
+          honestly attributing the fact to good food and a couple of pints of
+          beer he had had since the boatswain left him, said that he was ready
+          for anything.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Benn grunted and led the way in silence. There was no moon,
+          but the night was clear, and Mr. Travers, after one or two
+          light-hearted attempts at conversation, abandoned the effort and fell
+          to whistling softly instead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Except for one lighted window the village slept in darkness, but
+          the boatswain, who had been walking with the stealth of a Red Indian
+          on the war-path, breathed more freely after they had left it behind. A
+          renewal of his antics a little farther on apprised Mr. Travers that
+          they were approaching their destination, and a minute or two later
+          they came to a small inn standing just off the road. “All shut up and
+          Mrs. Waters abed, bless her,” whispered the boatswain, after walking
+          care-fully round the house. “How do you feel?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm all right,” said Mr. Travers. “I feel as if I'd been
+          burgling all my life. How do you feel?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Narvous,” said Mr. Benn, pausing under a small window at the
+          rear of the house. “This is the one.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers stepped back a few paces and gazed up at the house.
+          All was still. For a few moments he stood listening and then re-joined
+          the boatswain.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Good-bye, mate,” he said, hoisting himself on to the sill.
+          “Death or victory.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain whispered and thrust a couple of sovereigns into
+          his hand. “Take your time; there's no hurry,” he muttered. “I want to
+          pull myself together. Frighten 'er enough, but not too much. When she
+          screams I'll come in.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers slipped inside and then thrust his head out of the
+          window. “Won't she think it funny you should be so handy?” he
+          inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No; it's my faithful 'art,” said the boat-swain, “keeping watch
+          over her every night, that's the ticket. She won't know no better.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers grinned, and removing his boots passed them out to
+          the other. “We don't want her to hear me till I'm upstairs,” he
+          whispered. “Put 'em outside, handy for me to pick up.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain obeyed, and Mr. Travers—who was by no means a good
+          hand at darning socks—shivered as he trod lightly over a stone floor.
+          Then, following the instructions of Mr. Benn, he made his way to the
+          stairs and mounted noiselessly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>But for a slight stumble half-way up his progress was very
+          creditable for an amateur. He paused and listened and, all being
+          silent, made his way to the landing and stopped out-side a door.
+          Despite himself his heart was beating faster than usual.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He pushed the door open slowly and started as it creaked.
+          Nothing happening he pushed again, and standing just inside saw, by a
+          small ewer silhouetted against the casement, that he was in a bedroom.
+          He listened for the sound of breathing, but in vain.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Quiet sleeper,” he reflected; “or perhaps it is an empty room.
+          Now, I wonder whether—”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The sound of an opening door made him start violently, and he
+          stood still, scarcely breathing, with his ears on the alert. A light
+          shone on the landing, and peeping round the door he saw a woman coming
+          along the corridor—a younger and better-looking woman than he had
+          expected to see. In one hand she held aloft a candle, in the other she
+          bore a double-barrelled gun. Mr. Travers withdrew into the room and,
+          as the light came nearer, slipped into a big cupboard by the side of
+          the fireplace and, standing bolt upright, waited. The light came into
+          the room.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Must have been my fancy,” said a pleasant voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Bless her,” smiled Mr. Travers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>His trained ear recognized the sound of cocking triggers. The
+          next moment a heavy body bumped against the door of the cupboard and
+          the key turned in the lock.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Got you!” said the voice, triumphantly. “Keep still; if you try
+          and break out I shall shoot you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“All right,” said Mr. Travers, hastily; “I won't move.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Better not,” said the voice. “Mind, I've got a gun pointing
+          straight at you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Point it downwards, there's a good girl,” said Mr. Travers,
+          earnestly; “and take your finger off the trigger. If anything happened
+          to me you'd never forgive yourself.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's all right so long as you don't move,” said the voice; “and
+          I'm not a girl,” it added, sternly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes, you are,” said the prisoner. “I saw you. I thought it was
+          an angel at first. I saw your little bare feet and—”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>A faint scream interrupted him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You'll catch cold,” urged Mr. Travers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you trouble about me,” said the voice, tartly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I won't give any trouble,” said Mr. Travers, who began to think
+          it was time for the boatswain to appear on the scene. “Why don't you
+          call for help? I'll go like a lamb.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't want your advice,” was the reply. “I know what to do.
+          Now, don't you try and break out. I'm going to fire one barrel out of
+          the window, but I've got the other one for you if you move.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My dear girl,” protested the horrified Mr. Travers, “you'll
+          alarm the neighbourhood.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Just what I want to do,” said the voice. “Keep still, mind.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers hesitated. The game was up, and it was clear that in
+          any case the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be
+          disclosed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Stop!” he said, earnestly. “Don't do anything rash. I'm not a
+          burglar; I'm doing this for a friend of yours—Mr. Benn.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What?” said an amazed voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“True as I stand here,” asseverated Mr. Travers. “Here, here's
+          my instructions. I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the
+          back window you'll see him in the garden waiting.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched
+          from his fingers. He regained an upright position and stood listening
+          to the startled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read
+          the boatswain's permit:</span>
+        </p>
+        <blockquote>
+          <div>
+            <blockquote>
+              <div>
+                <p class="pfirst">
+                  <span>“This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of
+                  sound mind and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a
+                  burglar at Mrs. Waters's. He ain't a burglar, and I shall be
+                  outside all the time. It's all above-board and ship-shape.</span>
+                </p>
+                <p class="pnext">
+                  <span>“(Signed) George Benn”</span>
+                </p>
+              </div>
+            </blockquote>
+            <p class="pfirst">
+              <span>“Sound mind—above-board—ship-shape,” repeated a dazed voice.
+              “Where is he?”</span>
+            </p>
+          </div>
+        </blockquote>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span>“Out at the back,” replied Mr. Travers. “If you go to the window
+          you can see him. Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a
+          good girl.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was no reply, but a board creaked. He waited for what
+          seemed a long time, and then the board creaked again.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Did you see him?” he inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I did,” was the sharp reply. “You both ought to be ashamed of
+          yourselves. You ought to be punished.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head,”
+          remarked Mr. Travers. “What are you going to do?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was no reply.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What are you going to do?” repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat
+          uneasily. “You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as
+          I can judge through this crack.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody
+          moving hastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily
+          donned.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You ought to have done it before,” commented the thoughtful Mr.
+          Travers. “It's enough to give you your death of cold.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Mind your business,” said the voice, sharply. “Now, if I let
+          you out, will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Honour bright,” said Mr. Travers, fervently.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget,” proceeded
+          the other, grimly. “I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down
+          and tell him I've killed you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Eh?” said the amazed Mr. Travers. “Oh, Lord!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“H'sh! Stop that laughing,” commanded the voice. “He'll hear
+          you. Be quiet!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth,
+          clapped his hand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey. Mrs. Waters,
+          stepping back with the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come on to the landing,” said Mr. Travers, eagerly. “We don't
+          want anybody else to hear. Fire into this.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up
+          against the balusters. “You stay here,” said Mrs. Waters. He nodded.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with the
+          explosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge,
+          she rushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door,
+          tottered outside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh! oh! oh!” she cried.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What—what's the matter?” gasped the boatswain.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The widow struggled in his arms. “A burglar,” she said, in a
+          tense whisper. “But it's all right; I've killed him.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Kill—” stuttered the other. “Kill——Killed him?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, “First shot,” she said,
+          with a satisfied air.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain wrung his hands. “Good heavens!” he said, moving
+          slowly towards the door. “Poor fellow!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come back,” said the widow, tugging at his coat.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I was—was going to see—whether I could do anything for 'im,”
+          quavered the boatswain. “Poor fellow!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You stay where you are,” commanded Mrs. Waters. “I don't want
+          any witnesses. I don't want this house to have a bad name. I'm going
+          to keep it quiet.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Quiet?” said the shaking boatswain. “How?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“First thing to do,” said the widow, thoughtfully, “is to get
+          rid of the body. I'll bury him in the garden, I think. There's a very
+          good bit of ground behind those potatoes. You'll find the spade in the
+          tool-house.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“While you're digging the grave,” continued Mrs. 'Waters,
+          calmly, “I'll go in and clean up the mess.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain reeled and then fumbled with trembling fingers at
+          his collar.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Like a man in a dream he stood watching as she ran to the
+          tool-house and returned with a spade and pick; like a man in a dream
+          he followed her on to the garden.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Be careful,” she said, sharply; “you're treading down my
+          potatoes.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain stopped dead and stared at her. Apparently
+          unconscious of his gaze, she began to pace out the measurements and
+          then, placing the tools in his hands, urged him to lose no time.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll bring him down when you're gone,” she said, looking
+          towards the house.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand.
+          “How are you going to get it downstairs?” he breathed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Drag it,” said Mrs. Waters, briefly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Suppose he isn't dead?” said the boat-swain, with a gleam of
+          hope.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Fiddlesticks!” said Mrs. Waters. “Do you think I don't know?
+          Now, don't waste time talking; and mind you dig it deep. I'll put a
+          few cabbages on top afterwards—I've got more than I want.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She re-entered the house and ran lightly upstairs. The candle
+          was still alight and the gun was leaning against the bed-post; but the
+          visitor had disappeared. Conscious of an odd feeling of
+          disappointment, she looked round the empty room.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come and look at him,” entreated a voice, and she turned and
+          beheld the amused countenance of her late prisoner at the door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've been watching from the back window,” he said, nodding.
+          “You're a wonder; that's what you are. Come and look at him.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Waters followed, and leaning out of the window watched with
+          simple pleasure the efforts of the amateur sexton. Mr. Benn was
+          digging like one possessed, only pausing at intervals to straighten
+          his back and to cast a fearsome glance around him. The only thing that
+          marred her pleasure was the behaviour of Mr. Travers, who was
+          struggling for a place with all the fervour of a citizen at the Lord
+          Mayor's show.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Get back,” she said, in a fierce whisper. “He'll see you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim
+          looked up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Is that you, Mrs. Waters?” inquired the boatswain, fearfully.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes, of course it is,” snapped the widow. “Who else should it
+          be, do you think? Go on! What are you stopping for?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctly
+          audible. The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside the
+          widow's. For a long time they watched in silence.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?” called the boatswain,
+          looking up so suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully
+          against the side of the window. “It's a bit creepy, all alone.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm all right,” said Mrs. Waters.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant
+          bushes,” pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely. “How you can stay
+          there alone I can't think. I thought I saw something looking over your
+          shoulder just now. Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught hold
+          of you! The widow gave a sudden faint scream.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If you do that again!” she said, turning fiercely on Mr.
+          Travers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He put it into my head,” said the culprit, humbly; “I should
+          never have thought of such a thing by myself. I'm one of the quietest
+          and best-behaved——”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Make haste, Mr. Benn,” said the widow, turning to the window
+          again; “I've got a lot to do when you've finished.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The boatswain groaned and fell to digging again, and Mrs.
+          Waters, after watching a little while longer, gave Mr. Travers some
+          pointed instructions about the window and went down to the garden
+          again.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That will do, I think,” she said, stepping into the hole and
+          regarding it critically. “Now you'd better go straight off home, and,
+          mind, not a word to a soul about this.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She put her hand on his shoulder, and noticing with pleasure
+          that he shuddered at her touch led the way to the gate. The boat-swain
+          paused for a moment, as though about to speak, and then, apparently
+          thinking better of it, bade her good-bye in a hoarse voice and walked
+          feebly up the road. Mrs. Waters stood watching until his steps died
+          away in the distance, and then, returning to the garden, took up the
+          spade and stood regarding with some dismay the mountainous result of
+          his industry. Mr. Travers, who was standing just inside the back door,
+          joined her.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Let me,” he said, gallantly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The day was breaking as he finished his task. The clean, sweet
+          air and the exercise had given him an appetite to which the smell of
+          cooking bacon and hot coffee that proceeded from the house had set a
+          sharper edge. He took his coat from a bush and put it on. Mrs. Waters
+          appeared at the door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You had better come in and have some breakfast before you go,”
+          she said, brusquely; “there's no more sleep for me now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers obeyed with alacrity, and after a satisfying wash in
+          the scullery came into the big kitchen with his face shining and took
+          a seat at the table. The cloth was neatly laid, and Mrs. Waters, fresh
+          and cool, with a smile upon her pleasant face, sat behind the tray.
+          She looked at her guest curiously, Mr. Travers's spirits being
+          somewhat higher than the state of his wardrobe appeared to justify.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why don't you get some settled work?” she inquired, with gentle
+          severity, as he imparted snatches of his history between bites.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Easier said than done,” said Mr. Travers, serenely. “But don't
+          you run away with the idea that I'm a beggar, because I'm not. I pay
+          my way, such as it is. And, by-the-bye, I s'pose I haven't earned that
+          two pounds Benn gave me?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>His face lengthened, and he felt uneasily in his pocket.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll give them to him when I'm tired of the joke,” said the
+          widow, holding out her hand and watching him closely.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Travers passed the coins over to her. “Soft hand you've
+          got,” he said, musingly. “I don't wonder Benn was desperate. I dare
+          say I should have done the same in his place.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Waters bit her lip and looked out at the window; Mr.
+          Travers resumed his breakfast.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's only one job that I'm really fit for, now that I'm too
+          old for the Army,” he said, confidentially, as, breakfast finished, he
+          stood at the door ready to depart.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Playing at burglars?” hazarded Mrs. Waters.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Landlord of a little country public-house,” said Mr. Travers,
+          simply.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Waters fell back and regarded him with open-eyed amazement.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Good morning,” she said, as soon as she could trust her voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Good-bye,” said Mr. Travers, reluctantly. “I should like to
+          hear how old Benn takes this joke, though.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Waters retreated into the house and stood regarding him.
+          “If you're passing this way again and like to look in—I'll tell you,”
+          she said, after a long pause. “Good-bye.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll look in in a week's time,” said Mr. Travers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. “It would be the
+          best joke of all,” he said, turning away.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What would?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The soldier confronted her again.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“For old Benn to come round here one evening and find me
+          landlord. Think it over.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Waters met his gaze soberly. “I'll think it over when you
+          have gone,” she said, softly. “Now go.”</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-nest-egg">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id16"><span>THE NEST EGG</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 46%" id="figure-174">
+          <span id="id5"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/004.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">A</span><span
+          class="dropspan">rtfulness,” said the</span><span> night-watch-man,
+          smoking placidly, “is a gift; but it don't pay always. I've met some
+          artful ones in my time—plenty of 'em; but I can't truthfully say as
+          'ow any of them was the better for meeting me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He rose slowly from the packing-case on which he had been
+          sitting and, stamping down the point of a rusty nail with his heel,
+          resumed his seat, remarking that he had endured it for some time under
+          the impression that it was only a splinter.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've surprised more than one in my time,” he continued, slowly.
+          “When I met one of these 'ere artful ones I used fust of all to
+          pretend to be more stupid than wot I really am.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stopped and stared fixedly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“More stupid than I looked,” he said. He stopped again.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“More stupid than wot they thought I looked,” he said, speaking
+          with marked deliberation. And I'd let 'em go on and on until I thought
+          I had 'ad about enough, and then turn round on 'em. Nobody ever got
+          the better o' me except my wife, and that was only before we was
+          married. Two nights arterwards she found a fish-hook in my
+          trouser-pocket, and arter that I could ha' left untold gold there—if
+          I'd ha' had it. It spoilt wot some people call the honey-moon, but it
+          paid in the long run.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>One o' the worst things a man can do is to take up artfulness
+          all of a sudden. I never knew it to answer yet, and I can tell you of
+          a case that'll prove my words true.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It's some years ago now, and the chap it 'appened to was a young
+          man, a shipmate o' mine, named Charlie Tagg. Very steady young chap he
+          was, too steady for most of 'em. That's 'ow it was me and 'im got to
+          be such pals.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He'd been saving up for years to get married, and all the advice
+          we could give 'im didn't 'ave any effect. He saved up nearly every
+          penny of 'is money and gave it to his gal to keep for 'im, and the
+          time I'm speaking of she'd got seventy-two pounds of 'is and
+          seventeen-and-six of 'er own to set up house-keeping with.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then a thing happened that I've known to 'appen to sailormen
+          afore. At Sydney 'e got silly on another gal, and started walking out
+          with her, and afore he knew wot he was about he'd promised to marry
+          'er too.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sydney and London being a long way from each other was in 'is
+          favour, but the thing that troubled 'im was 'ow to get that
+          seventy-two pounds out of Emma Cook, 'is London gal, so as he could
+          marry the other with it. It worried 'im all the way home, and by the
+          time we got into the London river 'is head was all in a maze with it.
+          Emma Cook 'ad got it all saved up in the bank, to take a little shop
+          with when they got spliced, and 'ow to get it he could not think.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He went straight off to Poplar, where she lived, as soon as the
+          ship was berthed. He walked all the way so as to 'ave more time for
+          thinking, but wot with bumping into two old gentlemen with bad
+          tempers, and being nearly run over by a cabman with a white 'orse and
+          red whiskers, he got to the house without 'aving thought of anything.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They was just finishing their tea as 'e got there, and they all
+          seemed so pleased to see 'im that it made it worse than ever for 'im.
+          Mrs. Cook, who 'ad pretty near finished, gave 'im her own cup to drink
+          out of, and said that she 'ad dreamt of 'im the night afore last, and
+          old Cook said that he 'ad got so good-looking 'e shouldn't 'ave known
+          him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I should 'ave passed 'im in the street,” he ses. “I never see
+          such an alteration.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They'll be a nice-looking couple,” ses his wife, looking at a
+          young chap, named George Smith, that 'ad been sitting next to Emma.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie Tagg filled 'is mouth with bread and butter, and
+          wondered 'ow he was to begin. He squeezed Emma's 'and just for the
+          sake of keeping up appearances, and all the time 'e was thinking of
+          the other gal waiting for 'im thousands o' miles away.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You've come 'ome just in the nick o' time,” ses old Cook; “if
+          you'd done it o' purpose you couldn't 'ave arranged it better.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Somebody's birthday?” ses Charlie, trying to smile.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Old Cook shook his 'ead. “Though mine is next Wednesday,” he
+          ses, “and thank you for thinking of it. No; you're just in time for
+          the biggest bargain in the chandlery line that anybody ever 'ad a
+          chance of. If you 'adn't ha' come back we should have 'ad to ha' done
+          it without you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Eighty pounds,” ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Charlie. “With the
+          money Emma's got saved and your wages this trip you'll 'ave plenty.
+          You must come round arter tea and 'ave a look at it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Little place not arf a mile from 'ere,” ses old Cook. “Properly
+          worked up, the way Emma'll do it, it'll be a little fortune. I wish
+          I'd had a chance like it in my young time.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He sat shaking his 'ead to think wot he'd lost, and Charlie Tagg
+          sat staring at 'im and wondering wot he was to do.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My idea is for Charlie to go for a few more v'y'ges arter
+          they're married while Emma works up the business,” ses Mrs. Cook;
+          “she'll be all right with young Bill and Sarah Ann to 'elp her and
+          keep 'er company while he's away.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We'll see as she ain't lonely,” ses George Smith, turning to
+          Charlie.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie Tagg gave a bit of a cough and said it wanted
+          considering. He said it was no good doing things in a 'urry and then
+          repenting of 'em all the rest of your life. And 'e said he'd been
+          given to understand that chandlery wasn't wot it 'ad been, and some of
+          the cleverest people 'e knew thought that it would be worse before it
+          was better. By the time he'd finished they was all looking at 'im as
+          though they couldn't believe their ears.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You just step round and 'ave a look at the place,” ses old
+          Cook; “if that don't make you alter your tune, call me a sinner.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie Tagg felt as though 'e could ha' called 'im a lot o'
+          worse things than that, but he took up 'is hat and Mrs. Cook and Emma
+          got their bonnets on and they went round.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't think much of it for eighty pounds,” ses Charlie,
+          beginning his artfulness as they came near a big shop, with
+          plate-glass and a double front.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Eh?” ses old Cook, staring at 'im. “Why, that ain't the place.
+          Why, you wouldn't get that for eight 'undred.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, I don't think much of it,” ses Charlie; “if it's worse
+          than that I can't look at it—I can't, indeed.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You ain't been drinking, Charlie?” ses old Cook, in a puzzled
+          voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Certainly not,” ses Charlie.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was pleased to see 'ow anxious they all looked, and when they
+          did come to the shop 'e set up a laugh that old Cook said chilled the
+          marrer in 'is bones. He stood looking in a 'elpless sort o' way at his
+          wife and Emma, and then at last he ses, “There it is; and a fair
+          bargain at the price.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I s'pose you ain't been drinking?” ses Charlie.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot's the matter with it?” ses Mrs. Cook flaring up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come inside and look at it,” ses Emma, taking 'old of his arm.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not me,” ses Charlie, hanging back. “Why, I wouldn't take it at
+          a gift.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stood there on the kerbstone, and all they could do 'e
+          wouldn't budge. He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and 'ad
+          got a look about it he didn't like. They walked back 'ome like a
+          funeral procession, and Emma 'ad to keep saying “H's!” in w'ispers to
+          'er mother all the way.</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 67%" id="figure-175">
+          <span
+          id="he-said-it-was-a-bad-road-and-a-little-shop-and-ad-got-a-look-about-it-he-didnt-like"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/005.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't know wot Charlie does want, I'm sure,” ses Mrs. Cook,
+          taking off 'er bonnet as soon as she got indoors and pitching it on
+          the chair he was just going to set down on.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's so awk'ard,” ses old Cook, rubbing his 'cad. “Fact is,
+          Charlie, we pretty near gave 'em to understand as we'd buy it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's as good as settled,” ses Mrs. Cook, trembling all over
+          with temper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They won't settle till they get the money,” ses Charlie. “You
+          may make your mind easy about that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Emma's drawn it all out of the bank ready,” ses old Cook, eager
+          like.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie felt 'ot and cold all over. “I'd better take care of
+          it,” he ses, in a trembling voice. “You might be robbed.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So might you be,” ses Mrs. Cook. “Don't you worry; it's in a
+          safe place.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Sailormen are always being robbed,” ses George Smith, who 'ad
+          been helping young Bill with 'is sums while they 'ad gone to look at
+          the shop. “There's more sailormen robbed than all the rest put
+          together.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They won't rob Charlie,” ses Mrs. Cook, pressing 'er lips
+          together. “I'll take care o' that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie tried to laugh, but 'e made such a queer noise that
+          young Bill made a large blot on 'is exercise-book, and old Cook, wot
+          was lighting his pipe, burnt 'is fingers through not looking wot 'e
+          was doing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You see,” ses Charlie, “if I was robbed, which ain't at all
+          likely, it 'ud only be me losing my own money; but if you was robbed
+          of it you'd never forgive yourselves.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I dessay I should get over it,” ses Mrs. Cook, sniffing. “I'd
+          'ave a try, at all events.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie started to laugh agin, and old Cook, who had struck
+          another match, blew it out and waited till he'd finished.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“The whole truth is,” ses Charlie, looking round, “I've got
+          something better to do with the money. I've got a chance offered me
+          that'll make me able to double it afore you know where you are.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not afore I know where I am,” ses Mrs. Cook, with a laugh that
+          was worse than Charlie's.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“The chance of a lifetime,” ses Charlie, trying to keep 'is
+          temper. “I can't tell you wot it is, because I've promised to keep it
+          secret for a time. You'll be surprised when I do tell you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I wait till then till I'm surprised,” ses Mrs. Cook, “I
+          shall 'ave to wait a long time. My advice to you is to take that shop
+          and ha' done with it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie sat there arguing all the evening, but it was no good,
+          and the idea o' them people sitting there and refusing to let 'im have
+          his own money pretty near sent 'im crazy. It was all 'e could do to
+          kiss Emma good-night, and 'e couldn't have 'elped slamming the front
+          door if he'd been paid for it. The only comfort he 'ad got left was
+          the Sydney gal's photygraph, and he took that out and looked at it
+          under nearly every lamp-post he passed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He went round the next night and 'ad an-other try to get 'is
+          money, but it was no use; and all the good he done was to make Mrs.
+          Cook in such a temper that she 'ad to go to bed before he 'ad arf
+          finished. It was no good talking to old Cook and Emma, because they
+          daren't do anything without 'er, and it was no good calling things up
+          the stairs to her because she didn't answer. Three nights running Mrs.
+          Cook went off to bed afore eight o'clock, for fear she should say
+          something to 'im as she'd be sorry for arterwards; and for three
+          nights Charlie made 'imself so disagreeable that Emma told 'im plain
+          the sooner 'e went back to sea agin the better she should like it. The
+          only one who seemed to enjoy it was George Smith, and 'e used to bring
+          bits out o' newspapers and read to 'em, showing 'ow silly people was
+          done out of their money.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>On the fourth night Charlie dropped it and made 'imself so
+          amiable that Mrs. Cook stayed up and made 'im a Welsh rare-bit for 'is
+          supper, and made 'im drink two glasses o' beer instead o' one, while
+          old Cook sat and drank three glasses o' water just out of temper, and
+          to show that 'e didn't mind. When she started on the chandler's shop
+          agin Charlie said he'd think it over, and when 'e went away Mrs. Cook
+          called 'im her sailor-boy and wished 'im pleasant dreams.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>But Charlie Tagg 'ad got better things to do than to dream, and
+          'e sat up in bed arf the night thinking out a new plan he'd thought of
+          to get that money. When 'e did fall asleep at last 'e dreamt of taking
+          a little farm in Australia and riding about on 'orseback with the
+          Sydney gal watching his men at work.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>In the morning he went and hunted up a shipmate of 'is, a young
+          feller named Jack Bates. Jack was one o' these 'ere chaps, nobody's
+          enemy but their own, as the saying is; a good-'arted, free-'anded chap
+          as you could wish to see. Everybody liked 'im, and the ship's cat
+          loved 'im. He'd ha' sold the shirt off 'is back to oblige a pal, and
+          three times in one week he got 'is face scratched for trying to
+          prevent 'usbands knocking their wives about.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie Tagg went to 'im because he was the only man 'e could
+          trust, and for over arf an hour he was telling Jack Bates all 'is
+          troubles, and at last, as a great favour, he let 'im see the Sydney
+          gal's photygraph, and told him that all that pore gal's future
+          'appiness depended upon 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll step round to-night and rob 'em of that seventy-two
+          pounds,” ses Jack; “it's your money, and you've a right to it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie shook his 'ead. “That wouldn't do,” he ses; “besides, I
+          don't know where they keep it. No; I've got a better plan than that.
+          Come round to the Crooked Billet, so as we can talk it over in peace
+          and quiet.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stood Jack three or four arf-pints afore 'e told 'im his
+          plan, and Jack was so pleased with it that he wanted to start at once,
+          but Charlie persuaded 'im to wait.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And don't you spare me, mind, out o' friendship,” ses Charlie,
+          “because the blacker you paint me the better I shall like it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You trust me, mate,” ses Jack Bates; “if I don't get that
+          seventy-two pounds for you, you may call me a Dutchman. Why, it's fair
+          robbery, I call it, sticking to your money like that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They spent the rest o' the day together, and when evening came
+          Charlie went off to the Cooks'. Emma 'ad arf expected they was going
+          to a theayter that night, but Charlie said he wasn't feeling the
+          thing, and he sat there so quiet and miserable they didn't know wot to
+          make of 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Ave you got any trouble on your mind, Charlie,” ses Mrs. Cook,
+          “or is it the tooth-ache?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It ain't the toothache,” ses Charlie.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He sat there pulling a long face and staring at the floor, but
+          all Mrs. Cook and Emma could do 'e wouldn't tell them wot was the
+          matter with 'im. He said 'e didn't want to worry other people with 'is
+          troubles; let everybody bear their own, that was 'is motto. Even when
+          George Smith offered to go to the theayter with Emma instead of 'im he
+          didn't fire up, and, if it 'adn't ha' been for Mrs. Cook, George
+          wouldn't ha' been sorry that 'e spoke.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Theayters ain't for me,” ses Charlie, with a groan. “I'm more
+          likely to go to gaol, so far as I can see, than a theayter.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Cook and Emma both screamed and Sarah Ann did 'er first
+          highstericks, and very well, too, considering that she 'ad only just
+          turned fifteen.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Gaol!” ses old Cook, as soon as they 'ad quieted Sarah Ann with
+          a bowl o' cold water that young Bill 'ad the presence o' mind to go
+          and fetch. “Gaol! What for?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You wouldn't believe if I was to tell you.” ses Charlie,
+          getting up to go, “and besides, I don't want any of you to think as
+          'ow I am worse than wot I am.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He shook his 'cad at them sorrowful-like, and afore they could
+          stop 'im he 'ad gone. Old Cook shouted arter 'im, but it was no use,
+          and the others was running into the scullery to fill the bowl agin for
+          Emma.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Cook went round to 'is lodgings next morning, but found
+          that 'e was out. They began to fancy all sorts o' things then, but
+          Charlie turned up agin that evening more miserable than ever.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I went round to see you this morning,” ses Mrs. Cook, “but you
+          wasn't at 'ome.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I never am, 'ardly,” ses Charlie. “I can't be—it ain't safe.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why not?” ses Mrs. Cook, fidgeting.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I was to tell you, you'd lose your good opinion of me,” ses
+          Charlie.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It wouldn't be much to lose,” ses Mrs. Cook, firing up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie didn't answer 'er. When he did speak he spoke to the old
+          man, and he was so down-'arted that 'e gave 'im the chills a'most, He
+          'ardly took any notice of Emma, and, when Mrs. Cook spoke about the
+          shop agin, said that chandlers' shops was for happy people, not for
+          'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>By the time they sat down to supper they was nearly all as
+          miserable as Charlie 'imself. From words he let drop they all seemed
+          to 'ave the idea that the police was arter 'im, and Mrs. Cook was just
+          asking 'im for wot she called the third and last time, but wot was
+          more likely the hundred and third, wot he'd done, when there was a
+          knock at the front door, so loud and so sudden that old Cook and young
+          Bill both cut their mouths at the same time.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Anybody 'ere o' the name of Emma Cook?” ses a man's voice, when
+          young Bill opened the door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“She's inside,” ses the boy, and the next moment Jack Bates
+          followed 'im into the room, and then fell back with a start as 'e saw
+          Charlie Tagg.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ho, 'ere you are, are you?” he ses, looking at 'im very black.
+          “Wot's the matter?” ses Mrs. Cook, very sharp.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I didn't expect to 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you 'ere, my
+          lad,” ses Jack, still staring at Charlie, and twisting 'is face up
+          into awful scowls. “Which is Emma Cook?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Miss Cook is my name,” ses Emma, very sharp. “Wot d'ye want?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Very good,” ses Jack Bates, looking at Charlie agin; “then
+          p'r'aps you'll do me the kindness of telling that lie o' yours agin
+          afore this young lady.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's the truth,” ses Charlie, looking down at 'is plate.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If somebody don't tell me wot all this is about in two minutes,
+          I shall do something desprit,” ses Mrs. Cook, getting up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“This 'ere—er—man,” ses Jack Bates, pointing at Charlie, “owes
+          me seventy-five pounds and won't pay. When I ask 'im for it he ses a
+          party he's keeping company with, by the name of Emma Cook, 'as got it,
+          and he can't get it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So she has,” ses Charlie, without looking up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot does 'e owe you the money for?” ses Mrs. Cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Cos I lent it to 'im,” ses Jack.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Lent it? What for?” ses Mrs. Cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Cos I was a fool, I s'pose,” ses jack Bates; “a good-natured
+          fool. Anyway, I'm sick and tired of asking for it, and if I don't get
+          it to-night I'm going to see the police about it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He sat down on a chair with 'is hat cocked over one eye, and
+          they all sat staring at 'im as though they didn't know wot to say
+          next.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So this is wot you meant when you said you'd got the chance of
+          a lifetime, is it?” ses Mrs. Cook to Charlie. “This is wot you wanted
+          it for, is it? Wot did you borrow all that money for?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Spend,” ses Charlie, in a sulky voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Spend!” ses Mrs. Cook, with a scream; “wot in?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Drink and cards mostly,” ses Jack Bates, remembering wot
+          Charlie 'ad told 'im about blackening 'is character.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>You might ha' heard a pin drop a'most, and Charlie sat there
+          without saying a word.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Charlie's been led away,” ses Mrs. Cook, looking 'ard at Jack
+          Bates. “I s'pose you lent 'im the money to win it back from 'im at
+          cards, didn't you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And gave 'im too much licker fust,” ses old Cook. “I've 'eard
+          of your kind. If Charlie takes my advice 'e won't pay you a farthing.
+          I should let you do your worst if I was 'im; that's wot I should do.
+          You've got a low face; a nasty, ugly, low face.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“One o' the worst I ever see,” ses Mrs. Cook. “It looks as
+          though it might ha' been cut out o' the Police News.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Owever could you ha' trusted a man with a face like that,
+          Charlie?” ses old Cook. “Come away from 'im, Bill; I don't like such a
+          chap in the room.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Jack Bates began to feel very awk'ard. They was all glaring at
+          'im as though they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such
+          treatment. And, as a matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You go out o' that door,” ses old Cook, pointing to it. “Go and
+          do your worst. You won't get any money 'ere.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Stop a minute,” ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ran
+          upstairs. Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in the
+          bedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh and
+          looking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?” she ses.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets
+          took out about a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given
+          'im for I O U's. Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel
+          on the table.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's your money,” she ses; “take it and go.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's seventy-two pounds there,” ses Emma, who was very pale;
+          “and 'ere's a ring you can have to 'elp make up the rest.” And she
+          drew Charlie's ring off and throwed it on the table. “I've done with
+          'im for good,” she ses, with a look at 'er mother.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Jack Bates took up the money and the ring and stood there
+          looking at 'er and trying to think wot to say. He'd always been
+          uncommon partial to the sex, and it did seem 'ard to stand there and
+          take all that on account of Charlie Tagg.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I only wanted my own,” he ses, at last, shuffling about the
+          floor.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, you've got it,” ses Mrs. Cook, “and now you can go.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're pi'soning the air of my front parlour,” ses old Cook,
+          opening the winder a little at the top.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“P'r'aps I ain't so bad as you think I am,” ses Jack Bates,
+          still looking at Emma, and with that 'e walked over to Charlie and
+          dumped down the money on the table in front of 'im. “Take it,” he ses,
+          “and don't borrow any more. I make you a free gift of it. P'r'aps my
+          'art ain't as black as my face,” he ses, turning to Mrs. Cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but
+          old Cook smiled at 'im and put the winder up agin. And Charlie Tagg
+          sat there arf mad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack
+          Bates without any salt, as the saying is.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I—I can't take it,” he ses at last, with a stammer.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Can't take it? Why not?” ses old Cook, staring. “This gentleman
+          'as given it to you.” “A free gift,” ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jack
+          very sweet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I can't take it,” ses Charlie, winking at Jack to take the
+          money up and give it to 'im quiet, as arranged. “I 'ave my pride.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So 'ave I,” ses Jack. “Are you going to take it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Charlie gave another look. “No,” he ses, “I cant take a favour.
+          I borrowed the money and I'll pay it back.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Very good,” ses Jack, taking it up. “It's my money, ain't it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes,” ses Charlie, taking no notice of Mrs. Cook and 'er
+          husband, wot was both talking to 'im at once, and trying to persuade
+          'im to alter his mind.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Then I give it to Miss Emma Cook,” ses Jack Bates, putting it
+          into her hands. “Good-night everybody and good luck.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He slammed the front door behind 'im and they 'eard 'im go off
+          down the road as if 'e was going for fire-engines. Charlie sat there
+          for a moment struck all of a heap, and then 'e jumped up and dashed
+          arter 'im. He just saw 'im disappearing round a corner, and he didn't
+          see 'im agin for a couple o' year arterwards, by which time the Sydney
+          gal had 'ad three or four young men arter 'im, and Emma, who 'ad
+          changed her name to Smith, was doing one o' the best businesses in the
+          chandlery line in Poplar.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-constables-move">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id17"><span>THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 69%" id="figure-176">
+          <span id="id6"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/006.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">M</span><span
+          class="dropspan">r. Bob Grummit sat in the</span><span> kitchen with
+          his corduroy-clad legs stretched on the fender. His wife's half-eaten
+          dinner was getting cold on the table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in
+          need of cheering up, emptied her half-empty glass of beer and wiped
+          his lips with the back of his hand.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come away, I tell you,” he called. “D'ye hear? Come away.
+          You'll be locked up if you don't.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short
+          pipe in his mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at
+          his wife as she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the
+          furniture which was being carried in next door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come away or else you'll be locked up,” repeated Mr. Grummit.
+          “You mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the
+          winds, stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut
+          sideboard with bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the
+          personal supervision of Police-Constable Evans.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They'll be 'aving a pianner next,” said the indignant Mr.
+          Grummit, peering from the depths of the room.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They've got one,” responded his wife; “there's the end if it
+          stickin' up in the van.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly. “Did you
+          throw all them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?”
+          he demanded.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs,” replied his
+          wife. “I 'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and
+          things.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners,” said the incensed
+          Mr. Grummit, “sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to
+          throw good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the
+          triumphal entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the
+          narrow footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all
+          points, and Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Showing off,” explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; “and
+          she's got fingers like carrots.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and
+          live in it,” said the indignant Grummit; “and to come and live next to
+          me!— that's what I can't get over. To come and live next door to a man
+          wot has been fined twice, and both times wrong. Why, for two pins I'd
+          go in and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it. He won't live 'ere
+          long, you take my word for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why not?” inquired his wife.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why?” repeated Mr. Grummit. “Why? Why, becos I'll make the
+          place too 'ot to hold him. Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich
+          without 'im a-coming and living next door to me?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's
+          bullet-shaped head worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly
+          bad. The day after the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered
+          with tins which he recognized as old acquaintances, and since that
+          time they had travelled backwards and forwards with monotonous
+          regularity. They sometimes made as many as three journeys a day, and
+          on one occasion the heavens opened to drop a battered tin bucket on
+          the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying his bootlace. Five minutes
+          later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans, who had come out to admire
+          the sunset.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I heard something fall,” said the constable, eyeing the pail
+          curiously.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You threw it,” said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Me? Nonsense,” said the other, easily. “I was having tea in the
+          parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his
+          young lady.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Any more of 'em?” demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at
+          this list of witnesses for an alibi.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly,” said the
+          constable. “I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a
+          reward for it. It'll hold enough water for your wants.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time
+          concocting impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic
+          partner, went off to discuss affairs with his intimates at the
+          Bricklayers' Arms. The company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr.
+          Evans ought to be boiled, were miserably deficient in ideas as to the
+          means by which such a desirable end was to be attained.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing,” said an
+          elderly labourer. “The police don't like being laughed at.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Ow?” demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's plenty o' ways,” said the old man.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on
+          my back, I know.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat
+          balanced by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence. His back
+          still ached, but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only
+          ways he could imagine of making the constable look foolish contained
+          an almost certain risk of hard labour for himself.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins—to
+          the secret disappointment of Mr. Evans—remained untouched in his yard.
+          For the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit
+          expressed it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've been talking to old Bill Smith,” he said, suddenly, as he
+          came in one night.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he
+          was looking almost cheerful.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's given me a tip,” said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; “a
+          copper mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's
+          invited.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot of it?” inquired his wife. “You wasn't think of asking him
+          in, was you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully. “If a copper comes
+          in without being told to,” he continued, “he gets into trouble for it.
+          Now d'ye see?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But he won't come,” said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit winked. “Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough,” he
+          retorted. “Where's the copper-stick?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Have you gone mad?” demanded his wife, “or do you think I
+          'ave?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You go up into the bedroom,” said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his
+          remarks with his forefinger. “I come up and beat the bed black and
+          blue with the copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!'
+          'Murder!' and things like that. Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill
+          ain't sure about that part. Evans comes bursting in to save your
+          life—I'll leave the door on the latch—and there you are. He's sure to
+          get into trouble for it. Bill said so. He's made a study o' that sort
+          o' thing.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband
+          began to lose patience. At last, against her better sense, she rose
+          and fetched the weapon in question.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And you be careful what you're hitting,” she said, as they went
+          upstairs to bed. “We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You pitch into me with your tongue,” said Mr. Grummit, amiably.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable
+          and his wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall,
+          complied, and in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto
+          told Mr. Grummit things that had been rankling in her mind for some
+          months. She raked up misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten,
+          and, not content with that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family,
+          beginning with her mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's
+          youngest sister. The hand that held the copper-stick itched.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Any more to say?” demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly
+          remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with
+          extraordinary fury. The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts
+          of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband.</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-177">
+          <span
+          id="mr-grummit-suddenly-remembering-himself-stopped-short-and-attacked-the-bed-with-extraordinary-fury"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/007.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I can hear 'im moving,” whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take
+          breath.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Mur—der!” wailed his wife. “Help! Help!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the
+          attack; Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a
+          temporary relief in moans.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Is—he——deaf?” panted the wife-beater, “or wot?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another
+          frenzied scream. A loud knocking sounded on the wall.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Hel—lp!” moaned Mrs. Grummit.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Halloa, there!” came the voice of the constable. “Why don't you
+          keep that baby quiet? We can't get a wink of sleep.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face
+          to his wife.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He—he's afraid—to come in,” he gasped. “Keep it up, old gal.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but
+          the heart had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the
+          task as hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Here he is,” cried the jubilant Grummit. “Now!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was
+          flung open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the
+          neighbours on the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty
+          blow sent Mr. Grummit sprawling.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Hit my sister, will you?” he roared, as the astounded Mr.
+          Grummit rose. “Take that!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife,
+          tugging at her brother, endeavoured to explain. It was not, however,
+          until Mr. Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by
+          refusing to rise that she could make herself heard.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Joke?” repeated her brother, incredulously. “Joke?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from
+          amazement to mirth. He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of
+          the injured Grummit only added to his distress.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Best joke I ever heard in my life,” he said, wiping his eyes.
+          “Don't look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Get off 'ome,” responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open,”
+          said the other. “Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing
+          near the window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the
+          neighbours outside. Strong men patted him on the back and urged him
+          gruffly to say what he had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit
+          turned from the window, and in a slow and stately fashion prepared to
+          retire for the night. Even the sudden and startling disappearance of
+          Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed failed to move him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“The bed's broke, Bob,” she said faintly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Beds won't last for ever,” he said, shortly; “sleep on the
+          floor.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the
+          bedclothes and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time
+          she was fast asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in
+          devising further impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe
+          next door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work.
+          The constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr.
+          Grummit felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I heard you last night,” said the constable, playfully. “My
+          word! Good gracious!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot's the matter with you?” demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping
+          short.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The constable stared at him. “She has been knocking you about,”
+          he gasped. “Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it
+          sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked
+          up? I should be pleased to take her.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. “Wot would it
+          cost if I set about you?” he demanded, huskily.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Two months,” said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; “p'r'aps three.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The
+          constable, lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a
+          dispassionate smile. “That would be besides what you'd get from me,”
+          he said, softly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come out in the road,” said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's agin the rules,” said Mr. Evans; “sorry I can't. Why not
+          go and ask your wife's brother to oblige you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after
+          a frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of
+          such acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded
+          offer to make them laugh the other side of their face. The rest of the
+          day he spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the
+          anxious inquiries of his fellow-workmen.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being
+          able to give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour
+          having weighed on his spirits all day. To avoid the annoyance of the
+          piano next door, which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up “The
+          Last Rose of Summer” note by note, he went out at the back, and the
+          first thing he saw was Mr. Evans mending his path with tins and other
+          bric-a-brac.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Nothing like it,” said the constable, looking up. “Your missus
+          gave 'em to us this morning. A little gravel on top, and there you
+          are.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after
+          endeavouring in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an
+          inverted wash-tub and lit his pipe. His one hope was that Constable
+          Evans was going to try and cultivate a garden.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the
+          back window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias
+          and calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground. He
+          could not sleep for thinking of them.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs.
+          Grummit that Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain,
+          went off to his work. The cloud which had been on his spirits for some
+          time had lifted, and he whistled as he walked. The sight of flowers in
+          front windows added to his good humour.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was still in good spirits when he left off work that
+          afternoon, but some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to
+          the Brick-layers' firms instead. He stayed there until closing time,
+          and then, being still disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill
+          Smith, who lived the other side of Tunwich. By the time he started for
+          home it was nearly midnight.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in
+          darkness. The clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last
+          stroke was just dying away as he turned a corner and ran almost into
+          the arms of the man he had been trying to avoid.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Halloa!” said Constable Evans, sharply. “Here, I want a word
+          with you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit quailed. “With me, sir?” he said, with involuntary
+          respect.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What have you been doing to my flowers?” demanded the other,
+          hotly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Flowers?” repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to
+          him. “Flowers? What flowers?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You know well enough,” retorted the constable. “You got over my
+          fence last night and smashed all my flowers down.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You be careful wot you're saying,” urged Mr. Grummit. “Why, I
+          love flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful
+          flowers wot you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You know all about it,” said the constable, choking. “I shall
+          take out a summons against you for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ho!” said Mr. Grummit. “And wot time do you say it was when I
+          done it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Never you mind the time,” said the other.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Cos it's important,” said Mr. Grummit.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My wife's brother—the one you're so fond of—slept in my 'ouse
+          last night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of
+          it, it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I wasn't a policeman,” said Mr. Evans, speaking with great
+          deliberation, “I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the
+          biggest hiding you've ever had in your life.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If you wasn't a policeman,” said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, “I'd
+          arf murder you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble,” said
+          the constable.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to
+          quod,” sighed Mr. Grummit.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I wouldn't put you there,” said the constable, earnestly; “I
+          swear I wouldn't.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Everything's beautiful and quiet,” said Mr. Grummit, trembling
+          with eagerness, “and I wouldn't say a word to a soul. I'll take my
+          solemn davit I wouldn't.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“When I think o' my garden—” began the constable. With a sudden
+          movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by
+          the coat, began to hustle him along the road. In the twinkling of an
+          eye they had closed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr.
+          Grummit, forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck
+          before him. The constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on;
+          his uniform was torn and covered with blood and dirt, and his good
+          looks marred for a fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and,
+          recovering his helmet, tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He
+          stuck the battered relic on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back—awed,
+          despite himself.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It was a fair fight,” he stammered.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The constable waved him away. “Get out o' my sight before I
+          change my mind,” he said, fiercely; “and mind, if you say a word about
+          this it'll be the worse for you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Do you think I've gone mad?” said the other. He took another
+          look at his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the
+          road home. The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to
+          inspect damages.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against
+          the lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the
+          absence of a prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was
+          hanging by a thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just
+          picked it up and placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry
+          broke upon his ear.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in
+          the direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and
+          cries of “Police!” became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run,
+          and turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the
+          gate of a large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening
+          to-wards them. The constable arrived out of breath.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Better late than never,” said the owner of the house,
+          sarcastically.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand
+          on the fence.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them,”
+          continued the householder. “Halloa!” he added, as somebody opened the
+          hall door and the constable's damaged condition became visible in the
+          gas-light. “Are you hurt?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes,” said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To
+          gain time he blew a loud call on his whistle.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“The rascals!” continued the other. “I think I should know the
+          big chap with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Evans blew his whistle again—thoughtfully. The opportunity
+          seemed too good to lose.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Did they get anything?” he inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not a thing,” said the owner, triumphantly. “I was disturbed
+          just in time.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The constable gave a slight gulp. “I saw the three running by
+          the side of the road,” he said, slowly. “Their behaviour seemed
+          suspicious, so I collared the big one, but they set on me like wild
+          cats. They had me down three times; the last time I laid my head open
+          against the kerb, and when I came to my senses again they had gone.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a
+          murmur of sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head. A sergeant and
+          a constable, both running, appeared round the corner and made towards'
+          them.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Get back to the station and make your report,” said the former,
+          as Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story.
+          “You've done your best; I can see that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero,
+          limped painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals
+          might make good their escape. If not, he reflected that the word of a
+          policeman was at least equal to that of three burglars.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head
+          dressed, was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or
+          two. He was off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having
+          devoted a column to the affair, headed “A Gallant Constable,” modestly
+          secluded himself from the public gaze for the whole of that time.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he
+          could have repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly
+          trying. The constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever
+          closed. Once Mr. Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on
+          the front parlour window, and the only response was the sudden
+          lowering of the blind. It was not until a week afterwards that his
+          eyes were gladdened by a sight of the constable sitting in his yard;
+          and fearing that even then he might escape him, he ran out on tip-toe
+          and put his face over the fence before the latter was aware of his
+          presence.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot about that 'ere burglary?” he demanded in truculent tones.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Good evening, Grummit,” said the constable, with a patronizing
+          air.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot about that burglary?” repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl.
+          “I don't believe you ever saw a burglar.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully. “You'd better
+          run indoors, my good man,” he said, slowly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Telling all them lies about burglars,” continued the indignant
+          Mr. Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it. “Why, I gave you
+          that black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open,
+          I——”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You've been drinking,” said the other, severely.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You mean to say I didn't?” demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily. “I don't know what
+          you're talking about,” he said, calmly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them
+          burglars,” continued the constable, “why, say it and I'll take you
+          with pleasure. Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o'
+          their voices.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple
+          of yards and breathed heavily.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“About your height, too, he was,” mused the constable. “I hope
+          for your sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to
+          me just now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit shook his head. “Not a word,” he faltered.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's all right, then,” said Mr. Evans. “I shouldn't like to
+          be hard on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave
+          utterance to a feeble “Oh!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No,” said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly. “It ain't
+          good enough for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning. A
+          sergeant can't live in a common place like this.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence
+          again. “A— a sergeant?” he stammered.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud. “For my
+          bravery with them burglars the other night, Grummit,” he said,
+          modestly. “I might have waited years if it hadn't been for them.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit,
+          without any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="bobs-redemption">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id18"><span>BOB'S REDEMPTION</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 48%" id="figure-178">
+          <span id="id7"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/008.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">G</span><span
+          class="dropspan">RATITOODE!” said the</span><span> night-watchman,
+          with a hard laugh. “Hmf! Don't talk to me about gratitoode; I've seen
+          too much of it. If people wot I've helped in my time 'ad only done arf
+          their dooty—arf, mind you—I should be riding in my carriage.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Forgetful of the limitations of soap-boxes he attempted to
+          illustrate his remark by lolling, and nearly went over backwards.
+          Recovering himself by an effort he gazed sternly across the river and
+          smoked fiercely. It was evident that he was brooding over an ill-used
+          past.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>'Arry Thomson was one of them, he said, at last. For over six
+          months I wrote all 'is love-letters for him, 'e being an iggernerant
+          sort of man and only being able to do the kisses at the end, which he
+          always insisted on doing 'imself: being jealous. Only three weeks
+          arter he was married 'e come up to where I was standing one day and
+          set about me without saying a word. I was a single man at the time and
+          I didn't understand it. My idea was that he 'ad gone mad, and, being
+          pretty artful and always 'aving a horror of mad people, I let 'im
+          chase me into a police-station. Leastways, I would ha' let 'im, but he
+          didn't come, and I all but got fourteen days for being drunk and
+          disorderly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then there was Bill Clark. He 'ad been keeping comp'ny with a
+          gal and got tired of it, and to oblige 'im I went to her and told 'er
+          he was a married man with five children. Bill was as pleased as Punch
+          at fust, but as soon as she took up with another chap he came round to
+          see me and said as I'd ruined his life. We 'ad words about
+          it—naturally—and I did ruin it then to the extent of a couple o' ribs.
+          I went to see 'im in the horsepittle—place I've always been fond
+          of—and the langwidge he used to me was so bad that they sent for the
+          Sister to 'ear it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>That's on'y two out of dozens I could name. Arf the
+          unpleasantnesses in my life 'ave come out of doing kindnesses to
+          people, and all the gratitoode I've 'ad for it I could put in a
+          pint-pot with a pint o' beer already in it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The only case o' real gratitoode I ever heard of 'appened to a
+          shipmate o' mine—a young chap named Bob Evans. Coming home from
+          Auckland in a barque called the Dragon Fly he fell overboard, and
+          another chap named George Crofts, one o' the best swimmers I ever
+          knew, went overboard arter 'im and saved his life.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>We was hardly moving at the time, and the sea was like a duck
+          pond, but to 'ear Bob Evans talk you'd ha' thought that George Crofts
+          was the bravest-'arted chap that ever lived. He 'adn't liked him
+          afore, same as the rest of us, George being a sly, mean sort o' chap;
+          but arter George 'ad saved his life 'e couldn't praise 'im enough. He
+          said that so long as he 'ad a crust George should share it, and
+          wotever George asked 'im he should have.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The unfortnit part of it was that George took 'im at his word,
+          and all the rest of the v'y'ge he acted as though Bob belonged to 'im,
+          and by the time we got into the London river Bob couldn't call his
+          soul 'is own. He used to take a room when he was ashore and live very
+          steady, as 'e was saving up to get married, and as soon as he found
+          that out George invited 'imself to stay with him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It won't cost you a bit more,” he ses, “not if you work it
+          properly.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob didn't work it properly, but George having saved his life,
+          and never letting 'im forget it, he didn't like to tell him so. He
+          thought he'd let 'im see gradual that he'd got to be careful because
+          of 'is gal, and the fust evening they was ashore 'e took 'im along
+          with 'im there to tea.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Gerty Mitchell—that was the gal's name—'adn't heard of Bob's
+          accident, and when she did she gave a little scream, and putting 'er
+          arms round his neck, began to kiss 'im right in front of George and
+          her mother.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You ought to give him one too,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, pointing to
+          George.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George wiped 'is mouth on the back of his 'and, but Gerty
+          pretended not to 'ear.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Fancy if you'd been drownded!” she ses, hugging Bob agin.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He was pretty near,” ses George, shaking his 'ead. “I'm a pore
+          swimmer, but I made up my mind either to save 'im or else go down to a
+          watery grave myself.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He wiped his mouth on the back of his 'and agin, but all the
+          notice Gerty took of it was to send her young brother Ted out for some
+          beer. Then they all 'ad supper together, and Mrs. Mitchell drank good
+          luck to George in a glass o' beer, and said she 'oped that 'er own boy
+          would grow up like him. “Let 'im grow up a good and brave man, that's
+          all I ask,” she ses. “I don't care about 'is looks.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He might have both,” ses George, sharp-like. “Why not?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Mitchell said she supposed he might, and then she cuffed
+          young Ted's ears for making a noise while 'e was eating, and then
+          cuffed 'im agin for saying that he'd finished 'is supper five minutes
+          ago.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George and Bob walked 'ome together, and all the way there
+          George said wot a pretty gal Gerty was and 'ow lucky it was for Bob
+          that he 'adn't been drownded. He went round to tea with 'im the next
+          day to Mrs. Mitchell's, and arter tea, when Bob and Gerty said they
+          was going out to spend the evening together, got 'imself asked too.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They took a tram-car and went to a music-hall, and Bob paid for
+          the three of 'em. George never seemed to think of putting his 'and in
+          his pocket, and even arter the music-hall, when they all went into a
+          shop and 'ad stewed eels, he let Bob pay.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>As I said afore, Bob Evans was chock-full of gratefulness, and
+          it seemed only fair that he shouldn't grumble at spending a little
+          over the man wot 'ad risked 'is life to save his; but wot with keeping
+          George at his room, and paying for 'im every time they went out, he
+          was spending a lot more money than 'e could afford.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're on'y young once, Bob,” George said to him when 'e made a
+          remark one arternoon as to the fast way his money was going, “and if
+          it hadn't ha' been for me you'd never 'ave lived to grow old.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Wot with spending the money and always 'aving George with them
+          when they went out, it wasn't long afore Bob and Gerty 'ad a quarrel.
+          “I don't like a pore-spirited man,” she ses. “Two's company and
+          three's none, and, besides, why can't he pay for 'imself? He's big
+          enough. Why should you spend your money on 'im? He never pays a
+          farthing.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob explained that he couldn't say anything because 'e owed his
+          life to George, but 'e might as well 'ave talked to a lamp-post. The
+          more he argued the more angry Gerty got, and at last she ses, “Two's
+          company and three's none, and if you and me can't go out without
+          George Crofts, then me and 'im 'll go out with-out you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She was as good as her word, too, and the next night, while Bob
+          'ad gone out to get some 'bacca, she went off alone with George. It
+          was ten o'clock afore they came back agin, and Gerty's eyes were all
+          shining and 'er cheeks as pink as roses. She shut 'er mother up like a
+          concertina the moment she began to find fault with 'er, and at supper
+          she sat next to George and laughed at everything 'e said.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George and Bob walked all the way 'ome arter supper without
+          saying a word, but arter they got to their room George took a
+          side-look at Bob, and then he ses, suddenlike, “Look 'ere! I saved
+          your life, didn't I?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You did,” ses Bob, “and I thank you for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I saved your life,” ses George agin, very solemn. “If it hadn't
+          ha' been for me you couldn't ha' married anybody.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's true,” ses Bob.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Me and Gerty 'ave been having a talk,” ses George, bending down
+          to undo his boots. “We've been getting on very well together; you
+          can't 'elp your feelings, and the long and the short of it is, the
+          pore gal has fallen in love with me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob didn't say a word.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If you look at it this way it's fair enough,” ses George. “I
+          gave you your life and you give me your gal. We're quits now. You
+          don't owe me anything and I don't owe you anything. That's the way
+          Gerty puts it, and she told me to tell you so.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If—if she don't want me I'm agreeable,” ses Bob, in a choking
+          voice. “We'll call it quits, and next time I tumble overboard I 'ope
+          you won't be handy.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He took Gerty's photygraph out of 'is box and handed it to
+          George. “You've got more right to it now than wot I 'ave,” he ses. “I
+          shan't go round there any more; I shall look out for a ship
+          to-morrow.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Crofts said that perhaps it was the best thing he could
+          do, and 'e asked 'im in a offhand sort o' way 'ow long the room was
+          paid up for.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mrs. Mitchell 'ad a few words to say about it next day, but
+          Gerty told 'er to save 'er breath for walking upstairs. The on'y thing
+          that George didn't like when they went out was that young Ted was with
+          them, but Gerty said she preferred it till she knew 'im better; and
+          she 'ad so much to say about his noble behaviour in saving life that
+          George gave way. They went out looking at the shops, George thinking
+          that that was the cheapest way of spending an evening, and they were
+          as happy as possible till Gerty saw a brooch she liked so much in a
+          window that he couldn't get 'er away.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It is a beauty,” she ses. “I don't know when I've seen a brooch
+          I liked better. Look here! Let's all guess the price and then go in
+          and see who's right.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They 'ad their guesses, and then they went in and asked, and as
+          soon as Gerty found that it was only three-and-sixpence she began to
+          feel in her pocket for 'er purse, just like your wife does when you go
+          out with 'er, knowing all the time that it's on the mantelpiece with
+          twopence-ha'penny and a cough lozenge in it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I must ha' left it at 'ome,” she ses, looking at George.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Just wot I've done,” ses George, arter patting 'is pockets.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Gerty bit 'er lips and, for a minute or two, be civil to George
+          she could not. Then she gave a little smile and took 'is arm agin, and
+          they walked on talking and laughing till she turned round of a sudden
+          and asked a big chap as was passing wot 'e was shoving 'er for.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Shoving you?” ses he. “Wot do you think I want to shove you
+          for?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you talk to me,” ses Gerty, firing up. “George, make 'im
+          beg my pardon.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You ought to be more careful,” ses George, in a gentle sort o'
+          way.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Make 'im beg my pardon,” ses Gerty, stamping 'er foot; “if he
+          don't, knock 'im down.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes, knock 'im down,” ses the big man, taking hold o' George's
+          cap and rumpling his 'air.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Pore George, who was never much good with his fists, hit 'im in
+          the chest, and the next moment he was on 'is back in the middle o' the
+          road wondering wot had 'appened to 'im. By the time 'e got up the
+          other man was arf a mile away; and young Ted stepped up and wiped 'im
+          down with a pocket-'andkerchief while Gerty explained to 'im 'ow she
+          saw 'im slip on a piece o' banana peel.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's 'ard lines,” she ses; “but never mind, you frightened 'im
+          away, and I don't wonder at it. You do look terrible when you're
+          angry, George; I didn't know you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She praised 'im all the way 'ome, and if it 'adn't been for his
+          mouth and nose George would 'ave enjoyed it more than 'e did. She told
+          'er mother how 'e had flown at a big man wot 'ad insulted her, and
+          Mrs. Mitchell shook her 'ead at 'im and said his bold spirit would
+          lead 'im into trouble afore he 'ad done.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They didn't seem to be able to make enough of 'im, and next day
+          when he went round Gerty was so upset at the sight of 'is bruises that
+          he thought she was going to cry. When he had 'ad his tea she gave 'im
+          a cigar she had bought for 'im herself, and when he 'ad finished
+          smoking it she smiled at him, and said that she was going to take 'im
+          out for a pleasant evening to try and make up to 'im for wot he 'ad
+          suffered for 'er.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We're all going to stand treat to each other,” she ses. “Bob
+          always would insist on paying for everything, but I like to feel a bit
+          independent. Give and take—that's the way I like to do things.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's nothing like being independent,” ses George. “Bob ought
+          to ha' known that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm sure it's the best plan,” ses Gerty. “Now, get your 'at on.
+          We're going to a theayter, and Ted shall pay the 'bus fares.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George wanted to ask about the theayter, but 'e didn't like to,
+          and arter Gerty was dressed they went out and Ted paid the 'bus fares
+          like a man.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Here you are,” ses Gerty, as the 'bus stopped outside the
+          theayter. “Hurry up and get the tickets, George; ask for three upper
+          circles.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She bustled George up to the pay place, and as soon as she 'ad
+          picked out the seats she grabbed 'old of the tickets and told George
+          to make haste.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Twelve shillings it is,” ses the man, as George put down arf a
+          crown.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Twelve?” ses George, beginning to stammer. “Twelve? Twelve?
+          Twel—?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Twelve shillings,” ses the man; “three upper circles you've
+          'ad.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George was going to fetch Gerty back and 'ave cheaper seats, but
+          she 'ad gone inside with young Ted, and at last, arter making an awful
+          fuss, he paid the rest o' the money and rushed in arter her, arf crazy
+          at the idea o' spending so much money.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Make 'aste,” ses Gerty, afore he could say anything; “the band
+          'as just begun.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She started running upstairs, and she was so excited that, when
+          they got their seats and George started complaining about the price,
+          she didn't pay any attention to wot he was saying, but kept pointing
+          out ladies' dresses to 'im in w'ispers and wondering wot they 'ad paid
+          for them. George gave it up at last, and then he sat wondering whether
+          he 'ad done right arter all in taking Bob's gal away from him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Gerty enjoyed it very much, but when the curtain came down after
+          the first act she leaned back in her chair and looked up at George and
+          said she felt faint and thought she'd like to 'ave an ice-cream. “And
+          you 'ave one too, dear,” she ses, when young Ted 'ad got up and
+          beckoned to the gal, “and Ted 'ud like one too, I'm sure.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She put her 'ead on George's shoulder and looked up at 'im. Then
+          she put her 'and on his and stroked it, and George, reckoning that
+          arter all ice-creams were on'y a ha'penny or at the most a penny each,
+          altered 'is mind about not spending any more money and ordered three.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The way he carried on when the gal said they was three shillings
+          was alarming. At fust 'e thought she was 'aving a joke with 'im, and
+          it took another gal and the fireman and an old gentleman wot was
+          sitting behind 'im to persuade 'im different. He was so upset that 'e
+          couldn't eat his arter paying for it, and Ted and Gerty had to finish
+          it for 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They're expensive, but they're worth the money,” ses Gerty.
+          “You are good to me, George. I could go on eating 'em all night, but
+          you mustn't fling your money away like this always.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll see to that,” ses George, very bitter.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought we was going to stand treat to each other? That was
+          the idea, I understood.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So we are,” ses Gerty. “Ted stood the 'bus fares, didn't he?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He did,” ses George, “wot there was of 'em; but wot about you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Me?” ses Gerty, drawing her 'ead back and staring at 'im. “Why,
+          'ave you forgot that cigar already, George?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George opened 'is mouth, but 'e couldn't speak a word. He sat
+          looking at 'er and making a gasping noise in 'is throat, and
+          fortunately just as 'e got 'is voice back the curtain went up agin,
+          and everybody said, “H'sh!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He couldn't enjoy the play at all, 'e was so upset, and he began
+          to see more than ever 'ow wrong he 'ad been in taking Bob's gal away
+          from 'im. He walked downstairs into the street like a man in a dream,
+          with Gerty sticking to 'is arm and young Ted treading on 'is heels
+          behind.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Now, you mustn't waste any more money, George,” ses Gerty, when
+          they got outside. “We'll walk 'ome.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George 'ad got arf a mind to say something about a 'bus, but he
+          remembered in time that very likely young Ted hadn't got any more
+          money. Then Gerty said she knew a short cut, and she took them,
+          walking along little, dark, narrow streets and places, until at last,
+          just as George thought they must be pretty near 'ome, she began to dab
+          her eyes with 'er pocket-'andkerchief and say she'd lost 'er way.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You two go 'ome and leave me,” she ses, arf crying. “I can't
+          walk another step.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Where are we?” ses George, looking round.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't know,” ses Gerty. “I couldn't tell you if you paid me.
+          I must 'ave taken a wrong turning. Oh, hurrah! Here's a cab!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Afore George could stop 'er she held up 'er umbrella, and a
+          'ansom cab, with bells on its horse, crossed the road and pulled up in
+          front of 'em. Ted nipped in first and Gerty followed 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Tell 'im the address, dear, and make 'aste and get in,” ses
+          Gerty.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George told the cabman, and then he got in and sat on Ted's
+          knee, partly on Gerty's umbrella, and mostly on nothing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You are good to me, George,” ses Gerty, touching the back of
+          'is neck with the brim of her hat. “It ain't often I get a ride in a
+          cab. All the time I was keeping company with Bob we never 'ad one
+          once. I only wish I'd got the money to pay for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George, who was going to ask a question, stopped 'imself, and
+          then he kept striking matches and trying to read all about cab fares
+          on a bill in front of 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Ow are we to know 'ow many miles it is?” he ses, at last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't know,” ses Gerty; “leave it to the cabman. It's his
+          bisness, ain't it? And if 'e don't know he must suffer for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was hardly a soul in Gerty's road when they got there, but
+          afore George 'ad settled with the cabman there was a policeman moving
+          the crowd on and arf the winders in the road up. By the time George
+          had paid 'im and the cabman 'ad told him wot 'e looked like, Gerty and
+          Ted 'ad disappeared indoors, all the lights was out, and, in a state
+          o' mind that won't bear thinking of, George walked 'ome to his
+          lodging.</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 69%" id="figure-179">
+          <span
+          id="afore-george-had-settled-with-the-cabman-there-was-a-policeman-moving-the-crowd-on"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/009.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob was asleep when he got there, but 'e woke 'im up and told
+          'im about it, and then arter a time he said that he thought Bob ought
+          to pay arf because he 'ad saved 'is life.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Cert'nly not,” ses Bob. “We're quits now; that was the
+          arrangement. I only wish it was me spending the money on her; I
+          shouldn't grumble.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George didn't get a wink o' sleep all night for thinking of the
+          money he 'ad spent, and next day when he went round he 'ad almost made
+          up 'is mind to tell Bob that if 'e liked to pay up the money he could
+          'ave Gerty back; but she looked so pretty, and praised 'im up so much
+          for 'is generosity, that he began to think better of it. One thing 'e
+          was determined on, and that was never to spend money like that agin
+          for fifty Gertys.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was a very sensible man there that evening that George
+          liked very much. His name was Uncle Joe, and when Gerty was praising
+          George to 'is face for the money he 'ad been spending, Uncle Joe,
+          instead o' looking pleased, shook his 'ead over it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Young people will be young people, I know,” he ses, “but still
+          I don't approve of extravagance. Bob Evans would never 'ave spent all
+          that money over you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Bob Evans ain't everybody,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, standing up for
+          Gerty.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He was steady, anyway,” ses Uncle Joe. “Besides, Gerty ought
+          not to ha' let Mr. Crofts spend his money like that. She could ha'
+          prevented it if she'd ha' put 'er foot down and insisted on it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was so solemn about it that everybody began to feel a bit
+          upset, and Gerty borrowed Ted's pocket-'andkerchief, and then wiped
+          'er eyes on the cuff of her dress instead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, well,” ses Uncle Joe; “I didn't mean to be 'ard, but
+          don't do it no more. You are young people, and can't afford it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We must 'ave a little pleasure sometimes,” ses Gerty.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Yes, I know,” ses Uncle Joe; “but there's moderation in
+          everything. Look 'ere, it's time somebody paid for Mr. Crofts.
+          To-morrow's Saturday, and, if you like, I'll take you all to the
+          Crystal Palace.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Gerty jumped up off of 'er chair and kissed 'im, while Mrs.
+          Mitchell said she knew 'is bark was worse than 'is bite, and asked 'im
+          who was wasting his money now?</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You meet me at London Bridge Station at two o'clock,” ses Uncle
+          Joe, getting up to go. “It ain't extravagance for a man as can afford
+          it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He shook 'ands with George Crofts and went, and, arter George
+          'ad stayed long enough to hear a lot o' things about Uncle Joe which
+          made 'im think they'd get on very well together, he went off too.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They all turned up very early the next arternoon, and Gerty was
+          dressed so nice that George couldn't take his eyes off of her. Besides
+          her there was Mrs. Mitchell and Ted and a friend of 'is named Charlie
+          Smith.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They waited some time, but Uncle Joe didn't turn up, and they
+          all got looking at the clock and talking about it, and 'oping he
+          wouldn't make 'em miss the train.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Here he comes!” ses Ted, at last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Uncle Joe came rushing in, puffing and blowing as though he'd
+          bust. “Take 'em on by this train, will you?” he ses, catching 'old o'
+          George by the arm. “I've just been stopped by a bit o' business I must
+          do, and I'll come on by the next, or as soon arter as I can.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He rushed off again, puffing and blowing his 'ardest, in such a
+          hurry that he forgot to give George the money for the tickets.
+          However, George borrowed a pencil of Mrs. Mitchell in the train, and
+          put down on paper 'ow much they cost, and Mrs. Mitchell said if George
+          didn't like to remind 'im she would.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They left young Ted and Charlie to stay near the station when
+          they got to the Palace, Uncle Joe 'aving forgotten to say where he'd
+          meet 'em, but train arter train came in without 'im, and at last the
+          two boys gave it up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We're sure to run across 'im sooner or later,” ses Gerty.
+          “Let's 'ave something to eat; I'm so hungry.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George said something about buns and milk, but Gerty took 'im up
+          sharp. “Buns and milk?” she ses. “Why, uncle would never forgive us if
+          we spoilt his treat like that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She walked into a refreshment place and they 'ad cold meat and
+          bread and pickles and beer and tarts and cheese, till even young Ted
+          said he'd 'ad enough, but still they couldn't see any signs of Uncle
+          Joe. They went on to the roundabouts to look for 'im, and then into
+          all sorts o' shows at sixpence a head, but still there was no signs of
+          'im, and George had 'ad to start on a fresh bit o' paper to put down
+          wot he'd spent.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I suppose he must ha' been detained on important business,” ses
+          Gerty, at last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Unless it's one of 'is jokes,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, shaking her
+          'ead. “You know wot your uncle is, Gerty.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There now, I never thought o' that,” ses Gerty, with a start;
+          “p'r'aps it is.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Joke?” ses George, choking and staring from one to the other.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I was wondering where he'd get the money from,” ses Mrs.
+          Mitchell to Gerty. “I see it all now; I never see such a man for a bit
+          o' fun in all my born days. And the solemn way he went on last night,
+          too. Why, he must ha' been laughing in 'is sleeve all the time. It's
+          as good as a play.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Look here!” ses George, 'ardly able to speak; “do you mean to
+          tell me he never meant to come?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm afraid not,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, “knowing wot he is. But
+          don't you worry; I'll give him a bit o' my mind when I see 'im.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Crofts felt as though he'd burst, and then 'e got his
+          breath, and the things 'e said about Uncle Joe was so awful that Mrs.
+          Mitchell told the boys to go away.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“How dare you talk of my uncle like that?” ses Gerty, firing up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You forget yourself, George,” ses Mrs. Mitchell. “You'll like
+          'im when you get to know 'im better.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you call me George,” ses George Crofts, turning on 'er.
+          “I've been done, that's wot I've been. I 'ad fourteen pounds when I
+          was paid off, and it's melting like butter.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, we've enjoyed ourselves,” ses Gerty, “and that's what
+          money was given us for. I'm sure those two boys 'ave had a splendid
+          time, thanks to you. Don't go and spoil all by a little bit o'
+          temper.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Temper!” ses George, turning on her. “I've done with you, I
+          wouldn't marry you if you was the on'y gal in the world. I wouldn't
+          marry you if you paid me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh, indeed!” ses Gerty; “but if you think you can get out of it
+          like that you're mistaken. I've lost my young man through you, and I'm
+          not going to lose you too. I'll send my two big cousins round to see
+          you to-morrow.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They won't put up with no nonsense, I can tell you,” ses Mrs.
+          Mitchell.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She called the boys to her, and then she and Gerty, arter
+          holding their 'eads very high and staring at George, went off and left
+          'im alone. He went straight off 'ome, counting 'is money all the way
+          and trying to make it more, and, arter telling Bob 'ow he'd been
+          treated, and trying hard to get 'im to go shares in his losses, packed
+          up his things and cleared out, all boiling over with temper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob was so dazed he couldn't make head or tail out of it, but 'e
+          went round to see Gerty the first thing next morning, and she
+          explained things to him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't know when I've enjoyed myself so much,” she ses, wiping
+          her eyes, “but I've had enough gadding about for once, and if you come
+          round this evening we'll have a nice quiet time together looking at
+          the furniture shops.”</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="over-the-side">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id19"><span>OVER THE SIDE</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 46%" id="figure-180">
+          <span id="id8"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/010.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">O</span><span
+          class="dropspan">f all classes of men, those</span><span> who follow
+          the sea are probably the most prone to superstition. Afloat upon the
+          black waste of waters, at the mercy of wind and sea, with vast depths
+          and strange creatures below them, a belief in the supernatural is
+          easier than ashore, under the cheerful gas-lamps. Strange stories of
+          the sea are plentiful, and an incident which happened within my own
+          experience has made me somewhat chary of dubbing a man fool or coward
+          because he has encountered something he cannot explain. There are
+          stories of the supernatural with prosaic sequels; there are others to
+          which the sequel has never been published.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I was fifteen years old at the time, and as my father, who had a
+          strong objection to the sea, would not apprentice me to it, I shipped
+          before the mast on a sturdy little brig called the Endeavour, bound
+          for Riga. She was a small craft, but the skipper was as fine a seaman
+          as one could wish for, and, in fair weather, an easy man to sail
+          under. Most boys have a rough time of it when they first go to sea,
+          but, with a strong sense of what was good for me, I had attached
+          myself to a brawny, good-natured infant, named Bill Smith, and it was
+          soon understood that whoever hit me struck Bill by proxy. Not that the
+          crew were particularly brutal, but a sound cuffing occasionally is
+          held by most seamen to be beneficial to a lad's health and morals. The
+          only really spiteful fellow among them was a man named Jem Dadd. He
+          was a morose, sallow-looking man, of about forty, with a strong taste
+          for the supernatural, and a stronger taste still for frightening his
+          fellows with it. I have seen Bill almost afraid to go on deck of a
+          night for his trick at the wheel, after a few of his reminiscences.
+          Rats were a favourite topic with him, and he would never allow one to
+          be killed if he could help it, for he claimed for them that they were
+          the souls of drowned sailors, hence their love of ships and their
+          habit of leaving them when they became unseaworthy. He was a firm
+          believer in the transmigration of souls, some idea of which he had, no
+          doubt, picked up in Eastern ports, and gave his shivering auditors to
+          understand that his arrangements for his own immediate future were
+          already perfected.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>We were six or seven days out when a strange thing happened.
+          Dadd had the second watch one night, and Bill was to relieve him. They
+          were not very strict aboard the brig in fair weather, and when a man's
+          time was up he just made the wheel fast, and, running for'ard, shouted
+          down the fo'c's'le. On this night I happened to awake suddenly, in
+          time to see Bill slip out of his bunk and stand by me, rubbing his red
+          eyelids with his knuckles.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Dadd's giving me a long time,” he whispered, seeing that I was
+          awake; “it's a whole hour after his time.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He pattered up on deck, and I was just turning over, thankful
+          that I was too young to have a watch to keep, when he came softly down
+          again, and, taking me by the shoulders, shook me roughly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Jack,” he whispered. “Jack.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I raised myself on my elbows, and, in the light of the smoking
+          lamp, saw that he was shaking all over.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come on deck,” he said, thickly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I put on my clothes, and followed him quietly to the sweet, cool
+          air above. It was a beautiful clear night, but, from his manner, I
+          looked nervously around for some cause of alarm. I saw nothing. The
+          deck was deserted, except for the solitary figure at the wheel.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Look at him,” whispered Bill, bending a contorted face to mine.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I walked aft a few steps, and Bill followed slowly. Then I saw
+          that Jem Dadd was leaning forward clumsily on the wheel, with his
+          hands clenched on the spokes.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's asleep,” said I, stopping short.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill breathed hard. “He's in a queer sleep,” said he; “kind o'
+          trance more like. Go closer.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I took fast hold of Bill's sleeve, and we both went. The light
+          of the stars was sufficient to show that Dadd's face was very white,
+          and that his dim, black eyes were wide open, and staring in a very
+          strange and dreadful manner straight before him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Dadd,” said I, softly, “Dadd!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was no reply, and, with a view of arousing him, I tapped
+          one sinewy hand as it gripped the wheel, and even tried to loosen it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He remained immovable, and, suddenly with a great cry, my
+          courage deserted me, and Bill and I fairly bolted down into the cabin
+          and woke the skipper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then we saw how it was with Jem, and two strong seamen forcibly
+          loosened the grip of those rigid fingers, and, laying him on the deck,
+          covered him with a piece of canvas. The rest of the night two men
+          stayed at the wheel, and, gazing fearfully at the outline of the
+          canvas, longed for dawn.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It came at last, and, breakfast over, the body was sewn up in
+          canvas, and the skipper held a short service compiled from a Bible
+          which belonged to the mate, and what he remembered of the Burial
+          Service proper. Then the corpse went overboard with a splash, and the
+          men, after standing awkwardly together for a few minutes, slowly
+          dispersed to their duties.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For the rest of that day we were all very quiet and restrained;
+          pity for the dead man being mingled with a dread of taking the wheel
+          when night came.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“The wheel's haunted,” said the cook, solemnly; “mark my words,
+          there's more of you will be took the same way Dadd was.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook, like myself, had no watch to keep.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The men bore up pretty well until night came on again, and then
+          they unanimously resolved to have a double watch. The cook, sorely
+          against his will, was impressed into the service, and I, glad to
+          oblige my patron, agreed to stay up with Bill.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Some of the pleasure had vanished by the time night came, and I
+          seemed only just to have closed my eyes when Bill came, and, with a
+          rough shake or two, informed me that the time had come. Any hope that
+          I might have had of escaping the ordeal was at once dispelled by his
+          expectant demeanour, and the helpful way in which he assisted me with
+          my clothes, and, yawning terribly, I followed him on deck.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The night was not so clear as the preceding one, and the air was
+          chilly, with a little moisture in it. I buttoned up my jacket, and
+          thrust my hands in my pockets.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Everything quiet?” asked Bill as he stepped up and took the
+          wheel.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ay, ay,” said Roberts, “quiet as the grave,” and, followed by
+          his willing mate, he went below.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I sat on the deck by Bill's side as, with a light touch on the
+          wheel, he kept the brig to her course. It was weary work sitting
+          there, doing nothing, and thinking of the warm berth below, and I
+          believe that I should have fallen asleep, but that my watchful
+          companion stirred me with his foot whenever he saw me nodding.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I suppose I must have sat there, shivering and yawning, for
+          about an hour, when, tired of inactivity, I got up and went and leaned
+          over the side of the vessel. The sound of the water gurgling and
+          lapping by was so soothing that I began to doze.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I was recalled to my senses by a smothered cry from Bill, and,
+          running to him, I found him staring to port in an intense and
+          uncomfortable fashion. At my approach, he took one hand from the
+          wheel, and gripped my arm so tightly that I was like to have screamed
+          with the pain of it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Jack,” said he, in a shaky voice, “while you was away something
+          popped its head up, and looked over the ship's side.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You've been dreaming,” said I, in a voice which was a very fair
+          imitation of Bill's own.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Dreaming,” repeated Bill, “dreaming! Ah, look there!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He pointed with outstretched finger, and my heart seemed to stop
+          beating as I saw a man's head appear above the side. For a brief space
+          it peered at us in silence, and then a dark figure sprang like a cat
+          on to the deck, and stood crouching a short distance away.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>A mist came before my eyes, and my tongue failed me, but Bill
+          let off a roar, such as I have never heard before or since. It was
+          answered from below, both aft and for'ard, and the men came running up
+          on deck just as they left their beds.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What's up?” shouted the skipper, glancing aloft.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For answer, Bill pointed to the intruder, and the men, who had
+          just caught sight of him, came up and formed a compact knot by the
+          wheel.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come over the side, it did,” panted Bill, “come over like a
+          ghost out of the sea.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The skipper took one of the small lamps from the binnacle, and,
+          holding it aloft, walked boldly up to the cause of alarm. In the
+          little patch of light we saw a ghastly black-bearded man, dripping
+          with water, regarding us with unwinking eyes, which glowed red in the
+          light of the lamp.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Where did you come from?” asked the skipper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The figure shook its head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Where did you come from?” he repeated, walking up, and laying
+          his hand on the other's shoulder.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then the intruder spoke, but in a strange fashion and in strange
+          words. We leaned forward to listen, but, even when he repeated them,
+          we could make nothing of them.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's a furriner,” said Roberts.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Blest if I've ever 'eard the lingo afore,” said Bill. “Does
+          anybody rekernize it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Nobody did, and the skipper, after another attempt, gave it up,
+          and, falling back upon the universal language of signs, pointed first
+          to the man and then to the sea. The other understood him, and, in a
+          heavy, slovenly fashion, portrayed a man drifting in an open boat, and
+          clutching and clambering up the side of a passing ship. As his meaning
+          dawned upon us, we rushed to the stern, and, leaning over, peered into
+          the gloom, but the night was dark, and we saw nothing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well,” said the skipper, turning to Bill, with a mighty yawn,
+          “take him below, and give him some grub, and the next time a gentleman
+          calls on you, don't make such a confounded row about it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He went below, followed by the mate, and after some slight
+          hesitation, Roberts stepped up to the intruder, and signed to him to
+          follow. He came stolidly enough, leaving a trail of water on the deck,
+          and, after changing into the dry things we gave him, fell to, but
+          without much appearance of hunger, upon some salt beef and biscuits,
+          regarding us between bites with black, lack-lustre eyes.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He seems as though he's a-walking in his sleep,” said the cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He ain't very hungry,” said one of the men; “he seems to mumble
+          his food.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Hungry!” repeated Bill, who had just left the wheel. “Course he
+          ain't famished. He had his tea last night.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The men stared at him in bewilderment.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you see?” said Bill, still in a hoarse whisper; “ain't
+          you ever seen them eyes afore? Don't you know what he used to say
+          about dying? It's Jem Dadd come back to us. Jem Dadd got another man's
+          body, as he always said he would.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Rot!” said Roberts, trying to speak bravely, but he got up,
+          and, with the others, huddled together at the end of the fo'c's'le,
+          and stared in a bewildered fashion at the sodden face and short, squat
+          figure of our visitor. For his part, having finished his meal, he
+          pushed his plate from him, and, leaning back on the locker, looked at
+          the empty bunks.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Roberts caught his eye, and, with a nod and a wave of his hand,
+          indicated the bunks. The fellow rose from the locker, and, amid a
+          breathless silence, climbed into one of them—Jem Dadd's!</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He slept in the dead sailor's bed that night, the only man in
+          the fo'c's'le who did sleep properly, and turned out heavily and
+          lumpishly in the morning for breakfast.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The skipper had him on deck after the meal, but could make
+          nothing of him. To all his questions he replied in the strange tongue
+          of the night before, and, though our fellows had been to many ports,
+          and knew a word or two of several languages, none of them recognized
+          it. The skipper gave it up at last, and, left to himself, he stared
+          about him for some time, regardless of our interest in his movements,
+          and then, leaning heavily against the side of the ship, stayed there
+          so long that we thought he must have fallen asleep.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's half-dead now!” whispered Roberts.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Hush!” said Bill, “mebbe he's been in the water a week or two,
+          and can't quite make it out. See how he's looking at it now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stayed on deck all day in the sun, but, as night came on,
+          returned to the warmth of the fo'c's'le. The food we gave him remained
+          untouched, and he took little or no notice of us, though I fancied
+          that he saw the fear we had of him. He slept again in the dead man's
+          bunk, and when morning came still lay there.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Until dinner-time, nobody interfered with him, and then Roberts,
+          pushed forward by the others, approached him with some food. He
+          motioned, it away with a dirty, bloated hand, and, making signs for
+          water, drank it eagerly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For two days he stayed there quietly, the black eyes always
+          open, the stubby fingers always on the move. On the third morning
+          Bill, who had conquered his fear sufficiently to give him water
+          occasionally, called softly to us.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come and look at him,” said he. “What's the matter with him?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's dying!” said the cook, with a shudder.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He can't be going to die yet!” said Bill, blankly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>As he spoke the man's eyes seemed to get softer and more
+          life-like, and he looked at us piteously and helplessly. From face to
+          face he gazed in mute inquiry, and then, striking his chest feebly
+          with his fist, uttered two words.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>We looked at each other blankly, and he repeated them eagerly,
+          and again touched his chest.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's his name,” said the cook, and we all repeated them.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He smiled in an exhausted fashion, and then, rallying his
+          energies, held up a forefinger; as we stared at this new riddle, he
+          lowered it, and held up all four fingers, doubled.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Come away,” quavered the cook; “he's putting a spell on us.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>We drew back at that, and back farther still, as he repeated the
+          motions. Then Bill's face cleared suddenly, and he stepped towards
+          him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He means his wife and younkers!” he shouted eagerly. “This
+          ain't no Jem Dadd!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It was good then to see how our fellows drew round the dying
+          sailor, and strove to cheer him. Bill, to show he understood the
+          finger business, nodded cheerily, and held his hand at four different
+          heights from the floor. The last was very low, so low that the man set
+          his lips together, and strove to turn his heavy head from us.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Poor devil!” said Bill, “he wants us to tell his wife and
+          children what's become of him. He must ha' been dying when he come
+          aboard. What was his name, again?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>But the name was not easy to English lips, and we had already
+          forgotten it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Ask him again,” said the cook, “and write it down. Who's got a
+          pen?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He went to look for one as Bill turned to the sailor to get him
+          to repeat it. Then he turned round again, and eyed us blankly, for, by
+          this time, the owner had himself forgotten it.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-four-pigeons">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id20"><span>THE FOUR PIGEONS</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 44%" id="figure-181">
+          <span id="id9"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/011.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">T</span><span
+          class="dropspan">he old man took up his mug</span><span> and shifted
+          along the bench until he was in the shade of the elms that stood
+          before the Cauliflower. The action also had the advantage of bringing
+          him opposite the two strangers who were refreshing themselves after
+          the toils of a long walk in the sun.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“My hearing ain't wot it used to be,” he said, tremulously.
+          “When you asked me to have a mug o' ale I 'ardly heard you; and if you
+          was to ask me to 'ave another, I mightn't hear you at all.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>One of the men nodded.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not over there,” piped the old man. “That's why I come over
+          here,” he added, after a pause. “It 'ud be rude like to take no
+          notice; if you was to ask me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He looked round as the landlord approached, and pushed his mug
+          gently in his direction. The landlord, obeying a nod from the second
+          stranger, filled it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It puts life into me,” said the old man, raising it to his lips
+          and bowing. “It makes me talk.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Time we were moving, Jack,” said the first traveller. The
+          second, assenting to this as an abstract proposition, expressed,
+          however, a determination to finish his pipe first.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I heard you saying something about shooting, continued the old
+          man, and that reminds me of some shooting we 'ad here once in
+          Claybury. We've always 'ad a lot o' game in these parts, and if it
+          wasn't for a low, poaching fellow named Bob Pretty—Claybury's disgrace
+          I call 'im—we'd 'ave a lot more.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It happened in this way. Squire Rockett was going abroad to
+          foreign parts for a year, and he let the Hall to a gentleman from
+          London named Sutton. A real gentleman 'e was, open-'anded and free,
+          and just about October he 'ad a lot of 'is friends come down from
+          London to 'elp 'im kill the pheasants.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The first day they frightened more than they killed, but they
+          enjoyed theirselves all right until one gentleman, who 'adn't shot a
+          single thing all day, shot pore Bill Chambers wot was beating with
+          about a dozen more.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill got most of it in the shoulder and a little in the cheek,
+          but the row he see fit to make you'd ha' thought he'd been killed. He
+          laid on the ground groaning with 'is eyes shut, and everybody thought
+          'e was dying till Henery Walker stooped down and asked 'im whether 'e
+          was hurt.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It took four men to carry Bill 'ome, and he was that particular
+          you wouldn't believe. They 'ad to talk in whispers, and when Peter
+          Gubbins forgot 'imself and began to whistle he asked him where his
+          'art was. When they walked fast he said they jolted 'im, and when they
+          walked slow 'e asked 'em whether they'd gone to sleep or wot.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill was in bed for nearly a week, but the gentleman was very
+          nice about it and said that it was his fault. He was a very
+          pleasant-spoken gentleman, and, arter sending Dr. Green to him and
+          saying he'd pay the bill, 'e gave Bill Chambers ten pounds to make up
+          for 'is sufferings.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill 'ad intended to lay up for another week, and the doctor,
+          wot 'ad been calling twice a day, said he wouldn't be responsible for
+          'is life if he didn't; but the ten pounds was too much for 'im, and
+          one evening, just a week arter the accident, he turned up at this
+          Cauliflower public-'ouse and began to spend 'is money.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>His face was bandaged up, and when 'e come in he walked
+          feeble-like and spoke in a faint sort o' voice. Smith, the landlord,
+          got 'im a easy-chair and a couple of pillers out o' the parlour, and
+          Bill sat there like a king, telling us all his sufferings and wot it
+          felt like to be shot.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>I always have said wot a good thing beer is, and it done Bill
+          more good than doctor's medicine. When he came in he could 'ardly
+          crawl, and at nine o'clock 'e was out of the easy-chair and dancing on
+          the table as well as possible. He smashed three mugs and upset about
+          two pints o' beer, but he just put his 'and in his pocket and paid for
+          'em without a word.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's plenty more where that came from,” he ses, pulling out
+          a handful o' money.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Peter Gubbins looked at it, 'ardly able to speak. “It's worth
+          while being shot to 'ave all that money,” he ses, at last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you worry yourself, Peter,” ses Bob Pretty; “there's
+          plenty more of you as'll be shot afore them gentlemen at the Hall 'as
+          finished. Bill's the fust, but 'e won't be the last—not by a long
+          chalk.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They're more careful now,” ses Dicky Weed, the tailor.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“All right; 'ave it your own way,” ses Bob, nasty-like. “I don't
+          know much about shooting, being on'y a pore labourin' man. All I know
+          is I shouldn't like to go beating for them. I'm too fond o' my wife
+          and family.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There won't be no more shot,” ses Sam Jones.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We're too careful,” ses Peter Gubbins.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Bob Pretty don't know everything,” ses Dicky Weed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll bet you what you like there'll be some more of you shot,”
+          ses Bob Pretty, in a temper. “Now, then.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Ow much'll you bet, Bob,” ses Sam Jones, with a wink at the
+          others. “I can see you winking, Sam Jones,” ses Bob Pretty, “but I'll
+          do more than bet. The last bet I won is still owing to me. Now, look
+          'ere; I'll pay you sixpence a week all the time you're beating if you
+          promise to give me arf of wot you get if you're shot. I can't say
+          fairer than that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Will you give me sixpence a week, too?” ses Henery Walker,
+          jumping up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I will,” ses Bob; “and anybody else that likes. And wot's more,
+          I'll pay in advance. Fust sixpences now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Claybury men 'ave never been backward when there's been money to
+          be made easy, and they all wanted to join Bob Pretty's club, as he
+          called it. But fust of all 'e asked for a pen and ink, and then he got
+          Smith, the land-lord, being a scholard, to write out a paper for them
+          to sign. Henery Walker was the fust to write 'is name, and then Sam
+          Jones, Peter Gubbins, Ralph Thomson, Jem Hall, and Walter Bell wrote
+          theirs. Bob stopped 'em then, and said six 'ud be enough to go on
+          with; and then 'e paid up the sixpences and wished 'em luck.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Wot they liked a'most as well as the sixpences was the idea o'
+          getting the better o' Bob Pretty. As I said afore, he was a poacher,
+          and that artful that up to that time nobody 'ad ever got the better of
+          'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They made so much fun of 'im the next night that Bob turned
+          sulky and went off 'ome, and for two or three nights he 'ardly showed
+          his face; and the next shoot they 'ad he went off to Wickham and
+          nobody saw 'im all day.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>That very day Henery Walker was shot. Several gentlemen fired at
+          a rabbit that was started, and the next thing they knew Henery Walker
+          was lying on the ground calling out that 'is leg 'ad been shot off.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He made more fuss than Bill Chambers a'most, 'specially when
+          they dropped 'im off a hurdle carrying him 'ome, and the things he
+          said to Dr. Green for rubbing his 'ands as he came into the bedroom
+          was disgraceful.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The fust Bob Pretty 'eard of it was up at the Cauliflower at
+          eight o'clock that evening, and he set down 'is beer and set off to
+          see Henery as fast as 'is legs could carry 'im. Henery was asleep when
+          'e got there, and, do all he could, Bob Pretty couldn't wake 'im till
+          he sat down gentle on 'is bad leg.</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-182">
+          <span
+          id="the-fust-bob-pretty-eard-of-it-was-up-at-the-cauliflower-at-eight-oclock-that-evening"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/012.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's on'y me, old pal,” he ses, smiling at 'im as Henery woke
+          up and shouted at 'im to get up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker was going to say something bad, but 'e thought
+          better of it, and he lay there arf busting with rage, and watching Bob
+          out of the corner of one eye.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I quite forgot you was on my club till Smith reminded me of
+          it,” ses Bob. “Don't you take a farthing less than ten pounds,
+          Henery.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker shut his eyes again. “I forgot to tell you I made
+          up my mind this morning not to belong to your club any more, Bob,” he
+          ses.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why didn't you come and tell me, Henery, instead of leaving it
+          till it was too late?” ses Bob, shaking his 'ead at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I shall want all that money,” ses Henery in a weak voice. “I
+          might 'ave to have a wooden leg, Bob.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't meet troubles arf way, Henery,” ses Bob, in a kind voice.
+          “I've no doubt Mr. Sutton'll throw in a wooden leg if you want it, and
+          look here, if he does, I won't trouble you for my arf of it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He said good-night to Henery and went off, and when Mrs. Walker
+          went up to see 'ow Henery was getting on he was carrying on that
+          alarming that she couldn't do nothing with 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was laid up for over a week, though it's my opinion he wasn't
+          much hurt, and the trouble was that nobody knew which gentleman 'ad
+          shot 'im. Mr. Sutton talked it over with them, and at last, arter a
+          good deal o' trouble, and Henery pulling up 'is trousers and showing
+          them 'is leg till they was fair sick of the sight of it, they paid 'im
+          ten pounds, the same as they 'ad Bill.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It took Bob Pretty two days to get his arf, but he kept very
+          quiet about it, not wishing to make a fuss in the village for fear Mr.
+          Sutton should get to hear of the club. At last he told Henery Walker
+          that 'e was going to Wickham to see 'is lawyer about it, and arter
+          Smith the landlord 'ad read the paper to Henery and explained 'ow he'd
+          very likely 'ave to pay more than the whole ten pounds then, 'e gave
+          Bob his arf and said he never wanted to see 'im again as long as he
+          lived.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob stood treat up at the Cauliflower that night, and said 'ow
+          bad he'd been treated. The tears stood in 'is eyes a'most, and at last
+          'e said that if 'e thought there was going to be any more fuss of that
+          kind he'd wind up the club.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's the best thing you can do,” ses Sam Jones; “I'm not going
+          to belong to it any longer, so I give you notice. If so be as I get
+          shot I want the money for myself.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Me, too,” ses Peter Gubbins; “it 'ud fair break my 'art to give
+          Bob Pretty five pounds. I'd sooner give it to my wife.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>All the other chaps said the same thing, but Bob pointed out to
+          them that they 'ad taken their sixpences on'y the night afore, and
+          they must stay in for the week. He said that was the law. Some of 'em
+          talked about giving 'im 'is sixpences back, but Bob said if they did
+          they must pay up all the sixpences they had 'ad for three weeks. The
+          end of it was they said they'd stay in for that week and not a moment
+          longer.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The next day Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins altered their minds.
+          Sam found a couple o' shillings that his wife 'ad hidden in her Sunday
+          bonnet, and Peter Gubbins opened 'is boy's money-box to see 'ow much
+          there was in it. They came up to the Cauliflower to pay Bob their
+          eighteen-pences, but he wasn't there, and when they went to his 'ouse
+          Mrs. Pretty said as 'ow he'd gone off to Wickham and wouldn't be back
+          till Saturday. So they 'ad to spend the money on beer instead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>That was on Tuesday, and things went on all right till Friday,
+          when Mr. Sutton 'ad another shoot. The birds was getting scarce and
+          the gentlemen that anxious to shoot them there was no 'olding them.
+          Once or twice the keepers spoke to 'em about carefulness, and said wot
+          large families they'd got, but it wasn't much good. They went on
+          blazing away, and just at the corner of the wood Sam Jones and Peter
+          Gubbins was both hit; Sam in the leg and Peter in the arm.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The noise that was made was awful—everybody shouting that they
+          'adn't done it, and all speaking at once, and Mr. Sutton was dancing
+          about a'most beside 'imself with rage. Pore Sam and Peter was 'elped
+          along by the others; Sam being carried and Peter led, and both of 'em
+          with the idea of getting all they could out of it, making such
+          'orrible noises that Mr. Sutton couldn't hear 'imself calling his
+          friends names.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There seems to be wounded men calling out all over the place,”
+          he ses, in a temper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I think there is another one over there, sir,” ses one o' the
+          keepers, pointing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins both left off to listen, and then
+          they all heard it distinctly. A dreadful noise it was, and when Mr.
+          Sutton and one or two more follered it up they found poor Walter Bell
+          lying on 'is face in a bramble.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot's the matter?” ses Mr. Sutton, shouting at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've been shot from behind,” ses Walter. “I'd got something in
+          my boot, and I was just stooping down to fasten it up agin when I got
+          it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But there oughtn't to be anybody 'ere,” ses Mr. Sutton to one
+          of the keepers.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They get all over the place, sir,” ses the 'keeper, scratching
+          his 'ead. “I fancied I 'eard a gun go off here a minute or two arter
+          the others was shot.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I believe he's done it 'imself,” says Mr. Sutton, stamping his
+          foot.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't see 'ow he could, sir,” ses the keeper, touching his
+          cap and looking at Walter as was still lying with 'is face on 'is
+          arms.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They carried Walter 'ome that way on a hurdle, and Dr. Green
+          spent all the rest o' that day picking shots out o' them three men and
+          telling 'em to keep still. He 'ad to do Sam Jones by candle-light,
+          with Mrs. Jones 'olding the candle with one hand and crying with the
+          other. Twice the doctor told her to keep it steady, and poor Sam 'ad
+          only just passed the remark, “How 'ot it was for October,” when they
+          discovered that the bed was on fire. The doctor said that Sam was no
+          trouble. He got off of the bed by 'imself, and, when it was all over
+          and the fire put out, the doctor found him sitting on the stairs with
+          the leg of a broken chair in 'is hand calling for 'is wife.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Of course, there was a terrible to-do about it in Claybury, and
+          up at the Hall, too. All of the gentlemen said as 'ow they hadn't done
+          it, and Mr. Sutton was arf crazy with rage. He said that they 'ad made
+          'im the laughing-stock of the neighbourhood, and that they oughtn't to
+          shoot with anything but pop-guns. They got to such high words over it
+          that two of the gentlemen went off 'ome that very night.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>There was a lot of talk up at the Cauliflower, too, and more
+          than one pointed out 'ow lucky Bob Pretty was in getting four men out
+          of the six in his club. As I said afore, Bob was away at the time, but
+          he came back the next night and we 'ad the biggest row here you could
+          wish for to see.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker began it. “I s'pose you've 'eard the dreadful
+          news, Bob Pretty?” he ses, looking at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I 'ave,” ses Bob; “and my 'art bled for 'em. I told you wot
+          those gentlemen was like, didn't I? But none of you would believe me.
+          Now you can see as I was right.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's very strange,” ses Henery Walker, looking round; “it's
+          very strange that all of us wot's been shot belonged to Bob Pretty's
+          precious club.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's my luck, Henery,” ses Bob, “always was lucky from a
+          child.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And I s'pose you think you're going to 'ave arf of the money
+          they get?” ses Henery Walker.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't talk about money while them pore chaps is suffering,” ses
+          Bob. “I'm surprised at you, Henery.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You won't 'ave a farthing of it,” ses Henery Walker; “and wot's
+          more, Bob Pretty, I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you believe it, Henery,” ses Bob, smiling at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back,” ses Henery, “and you
+          know why. I know wot your club was for now, and we was all a pack o'
+          silly fools not to see it afore.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Speak for yourself, Henery,” ses John Biggs, who thought Henery
+          was looking at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've been putting two and two together,” ses Henery, looking
+          round, “and it's as plain as the nose on your face. Bob Pretty hid up
+          in the wood and shot us all himself!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For a moment you might 'ave heard a pin drop, and then there was
+          such a noise nobody could hear theirselves speak. Everybody was
+          shouting his 'ardest, and the on'y quiet one there was Bob Pretty
+          'imself.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Poor Henery; he's gorn mad,” he ses, shaking his 'ead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're a murderer,” ses Ralph Thomson, shaking 'is fist at him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Henery Walker's gorn mad,” ses Bob agin. “Why, I ain't been
+          near the place. There's a dozen men'll swear that I was at Wickham
+          each time these misfortunate accidents 'appened.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Men like you, they'd swear anything for a pot o' beer,” ses
+          Henery. “But I'm not going to waste time talking to you, Bob Pretty.
+          I'm going straight off to tell Mr. Sutton.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I shouldn't do that if I was you, Henery,” ses Bob.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I dessay,” ses Henery Walker; “but then you see I am.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought you'd gorn mad, Henery,” ses Bob, taking a drink o'
+          beer that somebody 'ad left on the table by mistake, “and now I'm sure
+          of it. Why, if you tell Mr. Sutton that it wasn't his friends that
+          shot them pore fellers he won't pay them anything. 'Tain't likely 'e
+          would, is it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker, wot 'ad been standing up looking fierce at 'im,
+          sat down agin, struck all of a heap.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And he might want your ten pounds back, Henery,” said Bob in a
+          soft voice. “And seeing as 'ow you was kind enough to give five to me,
+          and spent most of the other, it 'ud come 'ard on you, wouldn't it?
+          Always think afore you speak, Henery. I always do.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker got up and tried to speak, but 'e couldn't, and he
+          didn't get 'is breath back till Bob said it was plain to see that he
+          'adn't got a word to say for 'imself. Then he shook 'is fist at Bob
+          and called 'im a low, thieving, poaching murderer.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're not yourself, Henery,” ses Bob. “When you come round
+          you'll be sorry for trying to take away the character of a pore
+          labourin' man with a ailing wife and a large family. But if you take
+          my advice you won't say anything more about your wicked ideas; if you
+          do, these pore fellers won't get a farthing. And you'd better keep
+          quiet about the club mates for their sakes. Other people might get the
+          same crazy ideas in their silly 'eads as Henery. Keepers especially.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>That was on'y common sense; but, as John Biggs said, it did seem
+          'ard to think as 'ow Bob Pretty should be allowed to get off
+          scot-free, and with Henery Walker's five pounds too. “There's one
+          thing,” he ses to Bob; “you won't 'ave any of these other pore chaps
+          money; and, if they're men, they ought to make it up to Henery Walker
+          for the money he 'as saved 'em by finding you out.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“They've got to pay me fust,” ses Bob. “I'm a pore man, but I'll
+          stick up for my rights. As for me shooting 'em, they'd ha' been 'urt a
+          good deal more if I'd done it—especially Mr. Henery Walker. Why,
+          they're hardly 'urt at all.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't answer 'im, Henery,” ses John Biggs. “You save your
+          breath to go and tell Sam Jones and the others about it. It'll cheer
+          'em up.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And tell 'em about my arf, in case they get too cheerful and go
+          overdoing it,” ses Bob Pretty, stopping at the door. “Good-night all.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Nobody answered 'im; and arter waiting a little bit Henery
+          Walker set off to see Sam Jones and the others. John Biggs was quite
+          right about its making 'em cheerful, but they see as plain as Bob
+          'imself that it 'ad got to be kept quiet. “Till we've spent the money,
+          at any rate,” ses Walter Bell; “then p'r'aps Mr. Sutton might get Bob
+          locked up for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Sutton went down to see 'em all a day or two afterwards. The
+          shooting-party was broken up and gone 'ome, but they left some money
+          behind 'em. Ten pounds each they was to 'ave, same as the others, but
+          Mr. Sutton said that he 'ad heard 'ow the other money was wasted at
+          the Cauliflower, and 'e was going to give it out to 'em ten shillings
+          a week until the money was gorn. He 'ad to say it over and over agin
+          afore they understood 'im, and Walter Bell 'ad to stuff the bedclo'es
+          in 'is mouth to keep civil.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Peter Gubbins, with 'is arm tied up in a sling, was the fust one
+          to turn up at the Cauliflower, and he was that down-'arted about it we
+          couldn't do nothing with 'im. He 'ad expected to be able to pull out
+          ten golden sovereigns, and the disapp'intment was too much for 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I wonder 'ow they heard about it,” ses Dicky Weed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I can tell you,” ses Bob Pretty, wot 'ad been sitting up in a
+          corner by himself, nodding and smiling at Peter, wot wouldn't look at
+          'im. “A friend o' mine at Wickham wrote to him about it. He was so
+          disgusted at the way Bill Chambers and Henery Walker come up 'ere
+          wasting their 'ard-earned money, that he sent 'im a letter, signed 'A
+          Friend of the Working Man,' telling 'im about it and advising 'im what
+          to do.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A friend o' yours?” ses John Biggs, staring at 'im. “What for?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't know,” ses Bob; “he's a wunnerful good scholard, and he
+          likes writin' letters. He's going to write another to-morrer, unless I
+          go over and stop 'im.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Another?” ses Peter, who 'ad been tellin' everybody that 'e
+          wouldn't speak to 'im agin as long as he lived. “Wot about?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“About the idea that I shot you all,” ses Bob. “I want my
+          character cleared. O' course, they can't prove anything against
+          me—I've got my witnesses. But, taking one thing with another, I see
+          now that it does look suspicious, and I don't suppose any of you'll
+          get any more of your money. Mr. Sutton is so sick o' being laughed at,
+          he'll jump at anything.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You dursn't do it, Bob,” ses Peter, all of a tremble.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It ain't me, Peter, old pal,” ses Bob, “it's my friend. But I
+          don't mind stopping 'im for the sake of old times if I get my arf.
+          He'd listen to me, I feel sure.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>At fust Peter said he wouldn't get a farthing out of 'im if his
+          friend wrote letters till Dooms-day; but by-and-by he thought better
+          of it, and asked Bob to stay there while he went down to see Sam and
+          Walter about it. When 'e came back he'd got the fust week's money for
+          Bob Pretty; but he said he left Walter Bell carrying on like a madman,
+          and, as for Sam Jones, he was that upset 'e didn't believe he'd last
+          out the night.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-temptation-of-samuel-burge">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id21"><span>THE TEMPTATION OF SAMUEL
+          BURGE</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 50%" id="figure-183">
+          <span id="id10"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/013.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">M</span><span
+          class="dropspan">r. Higgs, jeweller, sat</span><span> in the small
+          parlour behind his shop, gazing hungrily at a supper-table which had
+          been laid some time before. It was a quarter to ten by the small town
+          clock on the mantelpiece, and the jeweller rubbing his hands over the
+          fire tried in vain to remember what etiquette had to say about
+          starting a meal before the arrival of an expected guest.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He must be coming by the last train after all, sir,” said the
+          housekeeper entering the room and glancing at the clock. “I suppose
+          these London gentlemen keep such late hours they don't understand us
+          country folk wanting to get to bed in decent time. You must be wanting
+          your supper, sir.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs sighed. “I shall be glad of my supper,” he said
+          slowly, “but I dare say our friend is hungrier still. Travelling is
+          hungry work.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Perhaps he is thinking over his words for the seventh day,”
+          said the housekeeper solemnly. “Forgetting hunger and thirst and all
+          our poor earthly feelings in the blessedness of his work.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Perhaps so,” assented the other, whose own earthly feelings
+          were particularly strong just at that moment.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Brother Simpson used to forget all about meal-times when he
+          stayed here,” said the housekeeper, clasping her hands. “He used to
+          sit by the window with his eyes half-closed and shake his head at the
+          smell from the kitchen and call it flesh-pots of Egypt. He said that
+          if it wasn't for keeping up his strength for the work, luscious bread
+          and fair water was all he wanted. I expect Brother Burge will be a
+          similar sort of man.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Brother Clark wrote and told me that he only lives for the
+          work,” said the jeweller, with another glance at the clock. “The
+          chapel at Clerkenwell is crowded to hear him. It's a blessed favour
+          and privilege to have such a selected instrument staying in the house.
+          I'm curious to see him; from what Brother Clark said I rather fancy
+          that he was a little bit wild in his younger days.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Hallelujah!” exclaimed the housekeeper with fervour. “I mean to
+          think as he's seen the error of his ways,” she added sharply, as her
+          master looked up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There he is,” said the latter, as the bell rang.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The housekeeper went to the side-door, and drawing back the bolt
+          admitted the gentleman whose preaching had done so much for the small
+          but select sect known as the Seventh Day Primitive Apostles. She came
+          back into the room followed by a tall stout man, whose upper lip and
+          short stubby beard streaked with grey seemed a poor match for the
+          beady eyes which lurked behind a pair of clumsy spectacles.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Brother Samuel Burge?” inquired the jeweller, rising.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The visitor nodded, and regarding him with a smile charged with
+          fraternal love, took his hand in a huge grip and shook it fervently.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I am glad to see you, Brother Higgs,” he said, regarding him
+          fondly. “Oh, 'ow my eyes have yearned to be set upon you! Oh, 'ow my
+          ears 'ave longed to hearken unto the words of your voice!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He breathed thickly, and taking a seat sat with his hands upon
+          his knees, looking at a fine piece of cold beef which the housekeeper
+          had just placed upon the table.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Is Brother Clark well?” inquired the jeweller, placing a chair
+          for him at the table and taking up his carving-knife.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Dear Brother Clark is in excellent 'ealth, I thank you,” said
+          the other, taking the proffered chair. “Oh! what a man he is; what a
+          instrument for good. Always stretching out them blessed hands of 'is
+          to make one of the fallen a Seventh Day Primitive.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And success attends his efforts?” said the jeweller.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Success, Brother!” repeated Mr. Burge, eating rapidly and
+          gesticulating with his knife. “Success ain't no name for it. Why,
+          since this day last week he has saved three pick-pockets, two
+          Salvationists, one bigamist and a Roman Catholic.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Brother Higgs murmured his admiration. “You are also a power for
+          good,” he said wistfully. “Brother Clark tells me in his letter that
+          your exhortations have been abundantly blessed.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge shook his head. “A lot of it falls by the wayside,” he
+          said modestly, “but some of it is an eye-opener to them as don't
+          entirely shut their ears. Only the day before yesterday I 'ad two
+          jemmies and a dark lantern sent me with a letter saying as 'ow the
+          owner had no further use for 'em.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The jeweller's eyes glistened with admiration not quite untinged
+          with envy. “Have you expounded the Word for long?” he inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Six months,” replied the other. “It come to me quite natural—I
+          was on the penitent bench on the Saturday, and the Wednesday
+          afterwards I preached as good a sermon as ever I've preached in my
+          life. Brother Clark said it took 'is breath away.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And he's a judge too,” said the admiring jeweller.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Now,” continued Brother Burge, helping himself plentifully to
+          pickled walnuts. “Now there ain't standing room in our Bethel when I'm
+          expounding. People come to hear me from all parts—old and young—rich
+          and poor—and the Apostles that don't come early 'ave to stand outside
+          and catch the crumbs I throw 'em through the winders.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It is enough,” sighed Brother Higgs, whose own audience was
+          frequently content to be on the wrong side of the window, “it is
+          enough to make a man vain.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I struggle against it, Brother,” said Mr. Burge, passing his
+          cup up for some more tea. “I fight against it hard, but once the Evil
+          One was almost too much for me; and in spite of myself, and knowing
+          besides that it was a plot of 'is, I nearly felt uplifted.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Brother Higgs, passing him some more beef, pressed for details.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He sent me two policemen,” replied the other, scowling darkly
+          at the meanness of the trick. “One I might 'ave stood, but two come to
+          being pretty near too much for me. They sat under me while I gave 'em
+          the Word 'ot and strong, and the feeling I had standing up there and
+          telling policemen what they ought to do I shall never forget.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But why should policemen make you proud?” asked his puzzled
+          listener.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge looked puzzled in his turn. “Why, hasn't Brother Clark
+          told you about me?” he inquired.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs shook his head. “He sort of—suggested that—that you
+          had been a little bit wild before you came to us,” he murmured
+          apologetically.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A—little—bit—wild?” repeated Brother Burge, in horrified
+          accents. “ME? a little bit wild?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No doubt he exaggerated a little,” said the jeweller hurriedly.
+          “Being such a good man himself, no doubt things would seem wild to him
+          that wouldn't to us—to me, I mean.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A little bit wild,” said his visitor again. “Sam Burge, the
+          Converted Burglar, a little bit wild. Well, well!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Converted what?” shouted the jeweller, half-rising from his
+          chair.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Burglar,” said the other shortly. “Why, I should think I know
+          more about the inside o' gaols than anybody in England; I've pretty
+          near killed three policemen, besides breaking a gent's leg and
+          throwing a footman out of window, and then Brother Clark goes and says
+          I've been a little bit wild. I wonder what he would 'ave?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But you—you've quite reformed now?” said the jeweller, resuming
+          his seat and making a great effort to hide his consternation.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I 'ope so,” said Mr. Burge, with alarming humility; “but it's
+          an uncertain world, and far be it from me to boast. That's why I've
+          come here.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs, only half-comprehending, sat back gasping.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I can stand this,” pursued Brother Burge, gesticulating
+          wildly in the direction of the shop, “if I can stand being here with
+          all these 'ere pretty little things to be 'ad for the trouble of
+          picking of 'em up, I can stand anything. Tempt me, I says to Brother
+          Clark. Put me in the way o' temptation, I says. Let me see whether the
+          Evil One or me is the strongest; let me 'ave a good old up and down
+          with the Powers o' Darkness, and see who wins.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs, gripping the edge of the table with both hands, gazed
+          at this new Michael in speechless consternation.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I think I see his face now,” said Brother Burge, with tender
+          enthusiasm. “All in a glow it was, and he patted me on the shoulder
+          and says, 'I'll send you on a week's mission to Duncombe,' he says,
+          and 'you shall stop with Brother Higgs who 'as a shop full o' cunning
+          wrought vanities in silver and gold.'”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But suppose,” said the jeweller, finding his voice by a great
+          effort, “suppose victory is not given unto you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It won't make any difference,” replied his visitor. “Brother
+          Clark promised that it shouldn't. 'If you fall, Brother,' he says,
+          'we'll help you up again. When you are tired of sin come back to
+          us—there's always a welcome.'”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But—” began the dismayed jeweller.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“We can only do our best,” said Brother Burge, “the rest we must
+          leave. I 'ave girded my loins for the fray, and taken much spiritual
+          sustenance on the way down from this little hymn-book.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs paid no heed. He sat marvelling over the fatuousness
+          of Brother Clark and trying to think of ways and means out of the
+          dilemma into which that gentleman's perverted enthusiasm had placed
+          him. He wondered whether it would be possible to induce Brother Burge
+          to sleep elsewhere by offering to bear his hotel expenses, and at
+          last, after some hesitation, broached the subject.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What!” exclaimed the other, pushing his plate from him and
+          regarding him with great severity. “Go and sleep at a hotel? After
+          Brother Clark has been and took all this trouble? Why, I wouldn't
+          think of doing such a thing.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Brother Clark has no right to expose you to such a trial,” said
+          Mr. Higgs with great warmth.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I wonder what he'd say if he 'eard you,” remarked Mr. Burge
+          sternly. “After his going and making all these arrangements, for you
+          to try and go and upset 'em. To ask me to shun the fight like a
+          coward; to ask me to go and hide in the rear-ranks in a hotel with
+          everything locked up, or a Coffer Pallis with nothing to steal.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I should sleep far more comfortably if I knew that you were not
+          undergoing this tremendous strain,” said the unhappy Mr. Higgs, “and
+          besides that, if you did give way, it would be a serious business for
+          me —that's what I want you to look at. I am afraid that if—if
+          unhappily you did fall, I couldn't prevent you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm sure you couldn't,” said the other cordially. “That's the
+          beauty of it; that's when the Evil One's whispers get louder and
+          louder. Why, I could choke you between my finger and thumb. If
+          unfortunately my fallen nature should be too strong for me, don't
+          interfere whatever you do. I mightn't be myself.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs rose and faced him gasping.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not even—call for—the police—I suppose,” he jerked out.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That would be interfering,” said Brother Burge coldly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The jeweller tried to think. It was past eleven. The housekeeper
+          had gone to spend the night with an ailing sister, and a furtive
+          glance at Brother Burge's small shifty eyes and fat unwholesome face
+          was sufficient to deter him from leaving him alone with his property,
+          while he went to ask the police to give an eye to his house for the
+          night. Besides, it was more than probable that Mr. Burge would decline
+          to allow such a proceeding. With a growing sense of his peril he
+          resolved to try flattery.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It was a great thing for the Brethren to secure a man like
+          you,” he said.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I never thought they'd ha' done it,” said Mr. Burge frankly.
+          “I've 'ad all sorts trying to convert me; crying over me and praying
+          over me. I remember the first dear good man that called me a lorst
+          lamb. He didn't say anything else for a month.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So upset,” hazarded the jeweller.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I broke his jor, pore feller,” said Brother Burge, a sad but
+          withal indulgent smile lighting up his face at the vagaries of his
+          former career. “What time do you go to bed, Brother?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Any time,” said the other reluctantly. “I suppose you are tired
+          with your journey?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge assented, and rising from his chair yawned loudly and
+          stretched himself. In the small room with his huge arms raised he
+          looked colossal.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I suppose,” said the jeweller, still seeking to re-assure
+          himself, “I suppose dear Brother Clark felt pretty certain of you,
+          else he wouldn't have sent you here?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Brother Clark said 'What is a jeweller's shop compared with a
+          'uman soul, a priceless 'uman soul?'” replied Mr. Burge. “What is a
+          few gew-gaws to decorate them that perish, and make them vain, when
+          you come to consider the opportunity of such a trial, and the good
+          it'll do and the draw it'll be—if I do win—and testify to the
+          congregation to that effect? Why, there's sermons for a lifetime in
+          it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So there is,” said the jeweller, trying to look cheerful.
+          “You've got a good face, Brother Burge, and you'll do a lot of good by
+          your preaching. There is honesty written in every feature.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge turned and surveyed himself in the small pier-glass.
+          “Yes,” he said, somewhat discontentedly, “I don't look enough like a
+          burglar to suit some of 'em.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Some people are hard to please,” said the other warmly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge started and eyed him thoughtfully, and then as Mr.
+          Higgs after some hesitation walked into the shop to turn the gas out,
+          stood in the doorway watching him. A smothered sigh as he glanced
+          round the shop bore witness to the state of his feelings.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The jeweller hesitated again in the parlour, and then handing
+          Brother Burge his candle turned out the gas, and led the way slowly
+          upstairs to the room which had been prepared for the honoured visitor.
+          He shook hands at the door and bade him an effusive good-night, his
+          voice trembling despite himself as he expressed a hope that Mr. Burge
+          would sleep well. He added casually that he himself was a very light
+          sleeper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>To-night sleep of any kind was impossible. He had given up the
+          front room to his guest, and his own window looked out on an
+          over-grown garden. He sat trying to read, with his ears alert for the
+          slightest sound. Brother Burge seemed to be a long time undressing.
+          For half an hour after he had retired he could hear him moving
+          restlessly about his room.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Twelve o'clock struck from the tower of the parish church, and
+          was followed almost directly by the tall clock standing in the hall
+          down-stairs. Scarcely had the sounds died away than a low moaning from
+          the next room caused the affrighted jeweller to start from his chair
+          and place his ear against the wall. Two or three hollow groans came
+          through the plaster, followed by ejaculations which showed clearly
+          that Brother Burge was at that moment engaged in a terrified combat
+          with the Powers of Darkness to decide whether he should, or should
+          not, rifle his host's shop. His hands clenched and his ear pressed
+          close to the wall, the jeweller listened to a monologue which
+          increased in interest with every word.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I tell you I won't,” said the voice in the next room with a
+          groan, “I won't. Get thee behind me—Get thee—No, and don't shove me
+          over to the door; if you can't get behind me without doing that, stay
+          where you are. Yes, I know it's a fortune as well as what you do; but
+          it ain't mine.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The listener caught his breath painfully.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Diamond rings,” continued Brother Burge in a suffocating voice.
+          “Stop it, I tell you. No, I won't just go and look at 'em.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>A series of groans which the jeweller noticed to his horror got
+          weaker and weaker testified to the greatness of the temptation. He
+          heard Brother Burge rise, and then a succession of panting snarls
+          seemed to indicate a fierce bodily encounter.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't—want to look at 'em,” said Brother Burge in an
+          exhausted voice. “What's—the good of—looking at 'em? It's like you,
+          you know diamonds are my weakness. What does it matter if he is
+          asleep? What's my knife got to do with you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Brother Higgs reeled back and a mist passed before his eyes. He
+          came to himself at the sound of a door opening, and impelled with a
+          vague idea of defending his property, snatched up his candle and
+          looked out on to the landing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The light fell on Brother Burge, fully dressed and holding his
+          boots in his hand. For a moment they gazed at each other in silence;
+          then the jeweller found his voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought you were ill, Brother,” he faltered.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>An ugly scowl lit up the other's features. “Don't you tell me
+          any of your lies,” he said fiercely. “You're watching me; that's what
+          you're doing. Spying on me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought that you were being tempted,” confessed the trembling
+          Mr. Higgs.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>An expression of satisfaction which he strove to suppress
+          appeared on Mr. Burge's face.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So I was,” he said sternly. “So I was; but that's my business.
+          I don't want your assistance; I can fight my own battles. You go to
+          bed—I'm going to tell the congregation I won the fight single-'anded.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“So you have, Brother,” said the other eagerly; “but it's doing
+          me good to see it. It's a lesson to me; a lesson to all of us the way
+          you wrestled.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought you was asleep,” growled Brother Burge, turning back
+          to his room and speaking over his shoulder. “You get back to bed; the
+          fight ain't half over yet. Get back to bed and keep quiet.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The door closed behind him, and Mr. Higgs, still trembling,
+          regained his room and looked in agony at the clock. It was only
+          half-past twelve and the sun did not rise until six. He sat and
+          shivered until a second instalment of groans in the next room brought
+          him in desperation to his feet.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Brother Burge was in the toils again, and the jeweller despite
+          his fears could not help realizing what a sensation the story of his
+          temptation would create. Brother Burge was now going round and round
+          his room like an animal in a cage, and sounds as of a soul wrought
+          almost beyond endurance smote upon the listener's quivering ear. Then
+          there was a long silence more alarming even than the noise of the
+          conflict. Had Brother Burge won, and was he now sleeping the sleep of
+          the righteous, or—— Mr. Higgs shivered and put his other ear to the
+          wall. Then he heard his guest move stealthily across the floor; the
+          boards creaked and the handle of the door turned.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs started, and with a sudden flash of courage born of
+          anger and desperation seized a small brass poker from the fire-place,
+          and taking the candle in his other hand went out on to the landing
+          again. Brother Burge was closing his door softly, and his face when he
+          turned it upon the jeweller was terrible in its wrath. His small eyes
+          snapped with fury, and his huge hands opened and shut convulsively.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What, agin!” he said in a low growl. “After all I told you!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs backed slowly as he advanced.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No noise,” said Mr. Burge in a dreadful whisper. “One scream
+          and I'll— What were you going to do with that poker?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He took a stealthy step forward.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I—I,” began the jeweller. His voice failed him. “Burglars,” he
+          mouthed, “downstairs.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What?” said the other, pausing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Higgs threw truth to the winds. “I heard them in the shop,”
+          he said, recovering, “that's why I took up the poker. Can't you hear
+          them?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge listened for the fraction of a second. “Nonsense,” he
+          said huskily.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I heard them talking,” said the other recklessly. “Let's go
+          down and call the police.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Call 'em from the winder,” said Brother Burge, backing with
+          some haste, “they might 'ave pistols or something, and they're ugly
+          customers when they're disturbed.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stood with strained face listening.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Here they come,” whispered the jeweller with a sudden movement
+          of alarm.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Brother Burge turned, and bolting into his room clapped the door
+          to and locked it. The jeweller stood dumbfounded on the landing; then
+          he heard the window go up and the voice of Brother Burge, much
+          strengthened by the religious exercises of the past six months,
+          bellowing lustily for the police.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For a few seconds Mr. Higgs stood listening and wondering what
+          explanation he should give. Still thinking, he ran downstairs, and,
+          throwing open the pantry window, unlocked the door leading into the
+          shop and scattered a few of his cherished possessions about the floor.
+          By the time he had done this, people were already beating upon the
+          street-door and exchanging hurried remarks with Mr. Burge at the
+          window above. The jeweller shot back the bolts, and half-a-dozen
+          neighbours, headed by the butcher opposite, clad in his nightgown and
+          armed with a cleaver, burst into the passage. A constable came running
+          up just as the pallid face of Brother Burge peered over the balusters.
+          The constable went upstairs three at a time, and twisting his hand in
+          the ex-burglar's neck-cloth bore him backwards.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've got one,” he shouted. “Come up and hold him while I look
+          round.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The butcher was beside him in a moment; Brother Burge struggling
+          wildly, called loudly upon the name of Brother Higgs.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's all right, constable,” said the latter, “that's a friend
+          of mine.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Friend o' yours, sir?” said the disappointed officer, still
+          holding him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The jeweller nodded. “Mr. Samuel Burge the Converted Burglar,”
+          he said mechanically.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Conver——” gasped the astonished constable. “Converted burglar?
+          Here!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He is a preacher now,” added Mr. Higgs.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Preacher?” retorted the constable. “Why it's as plain as a
+          pikestaff. Confederates: his part was to go down and let 'em in.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Burge raised a piteous outcry. “I hope you may be forgiven
+          for them words,” he cried piously.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What time did you go up to bed?” pursued the constable.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“About half-past eleven,” replied Mr. Higgs.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The other grunted with satisfaction. “And he's fully dressed,
+          with his boots off,” he remarked. “Did you hear him go out of his room
+          at all?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He did go out,” said the jeweller truth-fully, “but——”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I thought so,” said the constable, turning to his prisoner with
+          affectionate solicitude. “Now you come along o' me. Come quietly,
+          because it'll be the best for you in the end.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You won't get your skull split open then,” added the butcher,
+          toying with his cleaver.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The jeweller hesitated. He had no desire to be left alone with
+          Mr. Burge again; and a sense of humour, which many years' association
+          with the Primitive Apostles had not quite eradicated, strove for
+          hearing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Think of the sermon it'll make,” he said encouragingly to the
+          frantic Mr. Burge, “think of the congregation!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Brother Burge replied in language which he had not used in
+          public since he had joined the Apostles. The butcher and another man
+          stood guard over him while the constable searched the premises and
+          made all secure again. Then with a final appeal to Mr. Higgs who was
+          keeping in the background, he was pitched to the police-station by the
+          energetic constable and five zealous assistants.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>A diffidence, natural in the circumstances, prevented him from
+          narrating the story of his temptation to the magistrates next morning,
+          and Mr. Higgs was equally reticent. He was put back while the police
+          communicated with London, and in the meantime Brother Clark and a band
+          of Apostles flanked down to his support.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>On his second appearance before the magistrates he was
+          confronted with his past; and his past to the great astonishment of
+          the Brethren being free from all blemish with the solitary exception
+          of fourteen days for stealing milk-cans, he was discharged with a
+          caution. The disillusioned Primitive Apostles also gave him his
+          freedom.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-madness-of-mr-lister">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id22"><span>THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 46%" id="figure-184">
+          <span id="id11"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/014.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">O</span><span
+          class="dropspan">ld Jem Lister, of the</span><span> Susannah, was
+          possessed of two devils—the love of strong drink and avarice—and the
+          only thing the twain had in common was to get a drink without paying
+          for it. When Mr. Lister paid for a drink, the demon of avarice
+          masquerading as conscience preached a teetotal lecture, and when he
+          showed signs of profiting by it, the demon of drink would send him
+          hanging round public-house doors cadging for drinks in a way which his
+          shipmates regarded as a slur upon the entire ship's company. Many a
+          healthy thirst reared on salt beef and tickled with strong tobacco had
+          been spoiled by the sight of Mr. Lister standing by the entrance, with
+          a propitiatory smile, waiting to be invited in to share it, and on one
+          occasion they had even seen him (him, Jem Lister, A.B.) holding a
+          horse's head, with ulterior motives.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It was pointed out to Mr. Lister at last that his conduct was
+          reflecting discredit upon men who were fully able to look after
+          themselves in that direction, without having any additional burden
+          thrust upon them. Bill Henshaw was the spokesman, and on the score of
+          violence (miscalled firmness) his remarks left little to be desired.
+          On the score of profanity, Bill might recall with pride that in the
+          opinion of his fellows he had left nothing unsaid.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You ought to ha' been a member o' Parliament, Bill,” said Harry
+          Lea, when he had finished.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It wants money,” said Henshaw, shaking his head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister laughed, a senile laugh, but not lacking in venom.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's what we've got to say,” said Henshaw, turning upon him
+          suddenly. “If there's anything I hate in this world, it's a drinking
+          miser. You know our opinion, and the best thing you can do is to turn
+          over a new leaf now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Take us all in to the Goat and Compasses,” urged Lea; “bring
+          out some o' those sovrins you've been hoarding.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister gazed at him with frigid scorn, and finding that the
+          conversation still seemed to centre round his unworthy person, went up
+          on deck and sat glowering over the insults which had been heaped upon
+          him. His futile wrath when Bill dogged his footsteps ashore next day
+          and revealed his character to a bibulous individual whom he had almost
+          persuaded to be a Christian—from his point of view—bordered upon the
+          maudlin, and he wandered back to the ship, wild-eyed and dry of
+          throat.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For the next two months it was safe to say that every drink he
+          had he paid for. His eyes got brighter and his complexion clearer, nor
+          was he as pleased as one of the other sex might have been when the
+          self-satisfied Henshaw pointed out these improvements to his
+          companions, and claimed entire responsibility for them. It is probable
+          that Mr. Lister, under these circumstances, might in time have lived
+          down his taste for strong drink, but that at just that time they
+          shipped a new cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was a big, cadaverous young fellow, who looked too closely
+          after his own interests to be much of a favourite with the other men
+          forward. On the score of thrift, it was soon discovered that he and
+          Mr. Lister had much in common, and the latter, pleased to find a
+          congenial spirit, was disposed to make the most of him, and spent,
+          despite the heat, much of his spare time in the galley.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You keep to it,” said the greybeard impressively; “money was
+          made to be took care of; if you don't spend your money you've always
+          got it. I've always been a saving man—what's the result?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook, waiting some time in patience to be told, gently
+          inquired what it was.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Ere am I,” said Mr. Lister, good-naturedly helping him to cut
+          a cabbage, “at the age of sixty-two with a bank-book down below in my
+          chest, with one hundered an' ninety pounds odd in it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“One 'undered and ninety pounds!” repeated the cook, with awe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“To say nothing of other things,” continued Mr. Lister, with
+          joyful appreciation of the effect he was producing. “Altogether I've
+          got a little over four 'undered pounds.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook gasped, and with gentle firmness took the cabbage from
+          him as being unfit work for a man of such wealth.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's very nice,” he said, slowly. “It's very nice. You'll be
+          able to live on it in your old age.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister shook his head mournfully, and his eyes became humid.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's no old age for me,” he said, sadly; “but you needn't
+          tell them,” and he jerked his thumb towards the forecastle.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No, no,” said the cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've never been one to talk over my affairs,” said Mr. Lister,
+          in a low voice. “I've never yet took fancy enough to anybody so to do.
+          No, my lad, I'm saving up for somebody else.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What are you going to live on when you're past work then?”
+          demanded the other.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister took him gently by the sleeve, and his voice sank
+          with the solemnity of his subject: “I'm not going to have no old age,”
+          he said, resignedly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not going to live!” repeated the cook, gazing uneasily at a
+          knife by his side. “How do you know?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I went to a orsepittle in London,” said Mr. Lister. “I've been
+          to two or three altogether, while the money I've spent on doctors is
+          more than I like to think of, and they're all surprised to think that
+          I've lived so long. I'm so chock-full o' complaints, that they tell me
+          I can't live more than two years, and I might go off at any moment.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, you've got money,” said the cook, “why don't you knock
+          off work now and spend the evenin' of your life ashore? Why should you
+          save up for your relatives?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've got no relatives,” said Mr. Lister; “I'm all alone. I
+          'spose I shall leave my money to some nice young feller, and I hope
+          it'll do 'im good.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>With the dazzling thoughts which flashed through the cook's
+          brain the cabbage dropped violently into the saucepan, and a shower of
+          cooling drops fell on both men.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I 'spose you take medicine?” he said, at length.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A little rum,” said Mr. Lister, faintly; “the doctors tell me
+          that it is the only thing that keeps me up—o' course, the chaps down
+          there “—he indicated the forecastle again with a jerk of his
+          head—“accuse me o' taking too much.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What do ye take any notice of 'em for?” inquired the other,
+          indignantly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I 'spose it is foolish,” admitted Mr. Lister; “but I don't like
+          being misunderstood. I keep my troubles to myself as a rule, cook. I
+          don't know what's made me talk to you like this. I 'eard the other day
+          you was keeping company with a young woman.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, I won't say as I ain't,” replied the other, busying
+          himself over the fire.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“An' the best thing, too, my lad,” said the old man, warmly. “It
+          keeps you stiddy, keeps you out of public-'ouses; not as they ain't
+          good in moderation—I 'ope you'll be 'appy.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>A friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled the
+          remainder of the crew not a little.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook thanked him, and noticed that Mr. Lister was fidgeting
+          with a piece of paper.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A little something I wrote the other day,” said the old man,
+          catching his eye. “If I let you see it, will you promise not to tell a
+          soul about it, and not to give me no thanks?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The wondering cook promised, and, the old man being somewhat
+          emphatic on the subject, backed his promise with a home made affidavit
+          of singular power and profanity.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Here it is, then,” said Mr. Lister.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook took the paper, and as he read the letters danced
+          before him. He blinked his eyes and started again, slowly. In plain
+          black and white and nondescript-coloured finger-marks, Mr. Lister,
+          after a general statement as to his bodily and mental health, left the
+          whole of his estate to the cook. The will was properly dated and
+          witnessed, and the cook's voice shook with excitement and emotion as
+          he offered to hand it back.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't know what I've done for you to do this,” he said.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister waved it away again. “Keep it,” he said, simply;
+          “while you've got it on you, you'll know it's safe.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>From this moment a friendship sprang up between the two men
+          which puzzled the remainder of the crew not a little. The attitude of
+          the cook was as that of a son to a father: the benignancy of Mr.
+          Lister beautiful to behold. It was noticed, too, that he had abandoned
+          the reprehensible practice of hanging round tavern doors in favour of
+          going inside and drinking the cook's health.</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 67%" id="figure-185">
+          <span
+          id="a-friendship-sprang-up-between-the-two-men-which-puzzled-the-remainder-of-the-crew-not-a-little"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/015.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>For about six months the cook, although always in somewhat
+          straitened circumstances, was well content with the tacit bargain, and
+          then, bit by bit, the character of Mr. Lister was revealed to him. It
+          was not a nice character, but subtle; and when he made the startling
+          discovery that a will could be rendered invalid by the simple process
+          of making another one the next day, he became as a man possessed. When
+          he ascertained that Mr. Lister when at home had free quarters at the
+          house of a married niece, he used to sit about alone, and try and
+          think of ways and means of securing capital sunk in a concern which
+          seemed to show no signs of being wound-up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've got a touch of the 'art again, lad,” said the elderly
+          invalid, as they sat alone in the forecastle one night at Seacole.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You move about too much,” said the cook. “Why not turn in and
+          rest?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister, who had not expected this, fidgeted. “I think I'll
+          go ashore a bit and try the air,” he said, suggestively. “I'll just go
+          as far as the Black Horse and back. You won't have me long now, my
+          lad.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No, I know,” said the cook; “that's what's worrying me a bit.”
+          “Don't worry about me,” said the old man, pausing with his hand on the
+          other's shoulder; “I'm not worth it. Don't look so glum, lad.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've got something on my mind, Jem,” said the cook, staring
+          straight in front of him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What is it?” inquired Mr. Lister.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You know what you told me about those pains in your inside?”
+          said the cook, without looking at him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Jem groaned and felt his side.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And what you said about its being a relief to die,” continued
+          the other, “only you was afraid to commit suicide?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well?” said Mr. Lister.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It used to worry me,” continued the cook, earnestly. “I used to
+          say to myself, 'Poor old Jem,' I ses, 'why should 'e suffer like this
+          when he wants to die? It seemed 'ard.'”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It is 'ard,” said Mr. Lister, “but what about it?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The other made no reply, but looking at him for the first time,
+          surveyed him with a troubled expression.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What about it?” repeated Mr. Lister, with some emphasis.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You did say you wanted to die, didn't you?” said the cook. “Now
+          suppose suppose——”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Suppose what?” inquired the old man, sharply. “Why don't you
+          say what you're agoing to say?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Suppose,” said the cook, “some one what liked you, Jem—what
+          liked you, mind—'eard you say this over and over again, an' see you
+          sufferin' and 'eard you groanin' and not able to do nothin' for you
+          except lend you a few shillings here and there for medicine, or stand
+          you a few glasses o' rum; suppose they knew a chap in a chemist's
+          shop?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Suppose they did?” said the other, turning pale.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A chap what knows all about p'isons,” continued the cook,
+          “p'isons what a man can take without knowing it in 'is grub. Would it
+          be wrong, do you think, if that friend I was speaking about put it in
+          your food to put you out of your misery?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wrong,” said Mr. Lister, with glassy eyes. “Wrong. Look 'ere,
+          cook—”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't mean anything to give him pain,” said the other, waving
+          his hand; “you ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you, Jem?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Do you mean to say!” shouted Mr. Lister.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't mean to say anything,” said the cook. “Answer my
+          question. You ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Have—you—been—putting—p'ison—in—my—wittles?” demanded Mr.
+          Lister, in trembling accents.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“If I 'ad, Jem, supposin' that I 'ad,” said the cook, in accents
+          of reproachful surprise, “do you mean to say that you'd mind?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“MIND,” said Mr. Lister, with fervour. “I'd 'ave you 'ung!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“But you said you wanted to die,” said the surprised cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister swore at him with startling vigour. “I'll 'ave you
+          'ung,” he repeated, wildly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Me,” said the cook, artlessly. “What for?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“For giving me p'ison,” said Mr. Lister, frantically. “Do you
+          think you can deceive me by your roundabouts? Do you think I can't see
+          through you?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The other with a sphinx-like smile sat unmoved. “Prove it,” he
+          said, darkly. “But supposin' if anybody 'ad been givin' you p'ison,
+          would you like to take something to prevent its acting?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'd take gallons of it,” said Mr. Lister, feverishly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The other sat pondering, while the old man watched him
+          anxiously. “It's a pity you don't know your own mind, Jem,” he said,
+          at length; “still, you know your own business best. But it's very
+          expensive stuff.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“How much?” inquired the other.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, they won't sell more than two shillings-worth at a time,”
+          said the cook, trying to speak carelessly, “but if you like to let me
+          'ave the money, I'll go ashore to the chemist's and get the first lot
+          now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Mr. Lister's face was a study in emotions, which the other tried
+          in vain to decipher.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then he slowly extracted the amount from his trousers-pocket,
+          and handed it over with-out a word.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll go at once,” said the cook, with a little feeling, “and
+          I'll never take a man at his word again, Jem.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He ran blithely up on deck, and stepping ashore, spat on the
+          coins for luck and dropped them in his pocket. Down below, Mr. Lister,
+          with his chin in his hand, sat in a state of mind pretty evenly
+          divided between rage and fear.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook, who was in no mood for company, missed the rest of the
+          crew by two public-houses, and having purchased a baby's teething
+          powder and removed the label, had a congratulatory drink or two before
+          going on board again. A chatter of voices from the forecastle warned
+          him that the crew had returned, but the tongues ceased abruptly as he
+          descended, and three pairs of eyes surveyed him in grim silence.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What's up?” he demanded.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot 'ave you been doin' to poor old Jem?” demanded Henshaw,
+          sternly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Nothin',” said the other, shortly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You ain't been p'isoning 'im?” demanded Henshaw.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Certainly not,” said the cook, emphatically.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He ses you told 'im you p'isoned 'im,” said Henshaw, solemnly,
+          “and 'e give you two shillings to get something to cure 'im. It's too
+          late now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What?” stammered the bewildered cook. He looked round anxiously
+          at the men.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They were all very grave, and the silence became oppressive.
+          “Where is he?” he demanded.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henshaw and the others exchanged glances. “He's gone mad,” said
+          he, slowly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Mad?” repeated the horrified cook, and, seeing the aversion of
+          the crew, in a broken voice he narrated the way in which he had been
+          victimized.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, you've done it now,” said Henshaw, when he had finished.
+          “He's gone right orf 'is 'ed.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Where is he?” inquired the cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Where you can't follow him,” said the other, slowly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Heaven?” hazarded the unfortunate cook. “No; skipper's bunk,”
+          said Lea.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh, can't I foller 'im?” said the cook, starting up. “I'll soon
+          'ave 'im out o' that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Better leave 'im alone,” said Henshaw. “He was that wild we
+          couldn't do nothing with 'im, singing an' larfin' and crying all
+          together—I certainly thought he was p'isoned.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll swear I ain't touched him,” said the cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, you've upset his reason,” said Henshaw; “there'll be an
+          awful row when the skipper comes aboard and finds 'im in 'is bed.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Well, come an' 'elp me to get 'im out,” said the cook.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I ain't going to be mixed up in it,” said Henshaw, shaking his
+          head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you, Bill,” said the other two.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot the skipper'll say I don't know,” said Henshaw; “anyway,
+          it'll be said to you, not——”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll go and get 'im out if 'e was five madmen,” said the cook,
+          compressing his lips.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You'll harve to carry 'im out, then,” said Henshaw. “I don't
+          wish you no 'arm, cook, and perhaps it would be as well to get 'im out
+          afore the skipper or mate comes aboard. If it was me, I know what I
+          should do.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What?” inquired the cook, breathlessly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Draw a sack over his head,” said Henshaw, impressively; “he'll
+          scream like blazes as soon as you touch him, and rouse the folks
+          ashore if you don't. Besides that, if you draw it well down it'll keep
+          his arms fast.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook thanked him fervently, and routing out a sack, rushed
+          hastily on deck, his departure being the signal for Mr. Henshaw and
+          his friends to make preparations for retiring for the night so hastily
+          as almost to savour of panic.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook, after a hasty glance ashore, went softly below with
+          the sack over his arm and felt his way in the darkness to the
+          skipper's bunk. The sound of deep and regular breathing reassured him,
+          and without undue haste he opened the mouth of the sack and gently
+          raised the sleeper's head.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Eh? Wha——” began a sleepy voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The next moment the cook had bagged him, and gripping him
+          tightly round the middle, turned a deaf ear to the smothered cries of
+          his victim as he strove to lift him out of the bunk. In the exciting
+          time which followed, he had more than one reason for thinking that he
+          had caught a centipede.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Now, you keep still,” he cried, breathlessly. “I'm not going to
+          hurt you.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He got his burden out of bed at last, and staggered to the foot
+          of the companion-ladder with it. Then there was a halt, two legs
+          sticking obstinately across the narrow way and refusing to be moved,
+          while a furious humming proceeded from the other end of the sack.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Four times did the exhausted cook get his shoulder under his
+          burden and try and push it up the ladder, and four times did it
+          wriggle and fight its way down again. Half crazy with fear and rage,
+          he essayed it for the fifth time, and had got it half-way up when
+          there was a sudden exclamation of surprise from above, and the voice
+          of the mate sharply demanding an explanation.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What the blazes are you up to?” he cried.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's all right, sir,” said the panting cook; “old Jem's had a
+          drop too much and got down aft, and I'm getting 'im for'ard again.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Jem?” said the astonished mate. “Why, he's sitting up here on
+          the fore-hatch. He came aboard with me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Sitting,” began the horrified cook; “sit—oh, lor!”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stood with his writhing burden wedged between his body and
+          the ladder, and looked up despairingly at the mate.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm afraid I've made a mistake,” he said in a trembling voice.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The mate struck a match and looked down.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Take that sack off,” he demanded, sternly.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cook placed his burden upon its feet, and running up the
+          ladder stood by the mate shivering. The latter struck another match,
+          and the twain watched in breathless silence the writhings of the
+          strange creature below as the covering worked slowly upwards. In the
+          fourth match it got free, and revealed the empurpled visage of the
+          master of the Susannah. For the fraction of a second the cook gazed at
+          him in speechless horror, and then, with a hopeless cry, sprang ashore
+          and ran for it, hotly pursued by his enraged victim. At the time of
+          sailing he was still absent, and the skipper, loth to part two such
+          friends, sent Mr. James Lister, at the urgent request of the anxious
+          crew, to look for him.</span>
+        </p>
+      </div>
+      <div class="level-2 section" id="the-white-cat">
+        <h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">
+          <a class="toc-backref" href="#id23"><span>THE WHITE CAT</span></a>
+        </h2>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 51%" id="figure-186">
+          <span id="id12"></span><img class="align-center block"
+          style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/016.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <div class="clearpage">
+        </div>
+        <p class="pfirst">
+          <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 6.00em">T</span><span
+          class="dropspan">he traveller stood looking</span><span> from the
+          tap-room window of the Cauliflower at the falling rain. The village
+          street below was empty, and everything was quiet with the exception of
+          the garrulous old man smoking with much enjoyment on the settle behind
+          him.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It'll do a power o' good,” said the ancient, craning his neck
+          round the edge of the settle and turning a bleared eye on the window.
+          “I ain't like some folk; I never did mind a drop o' rain.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The traveller grunted and, returning to the settle opposite the
+          old man, fell to lazily stroking a cat which had strolled in attracted
+          by the warmth of the small fire which smouldered in the grate.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's a good mouser,” said the old man, “but I expect that Smith
+          the landlord would sell 'im to anybody for arf a crown; but we 'ad a
+          cat in Claybury once that you couldn't ha' bought for a hundred golden
+          sovereigns.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The traveller continued to caress the cat.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“A white cat, with one yaller eye and one blue one,” continued
+          the old man. “It sounds queer, but it's as true as I sit 'ere wishing
+          that I 'ad another mug o' ale as good as the last you gave me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The traveller, with a start that upset the cat's nerves,
+          finished his own mug, and then ordered both to be refilled. He stirred
+          the fire into a blaze, and, lighting his pipe and putting one foot on
+          to the hob, prepared to listen.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It used to belong to old man Clark, young Joe Clark's uncle,
+          said the ancient, smacking his lips delicately over the ale and
+          extending a tremulous claw to the tobacco-pouch pushed towards him;
+          and he was never tired of showing it off to people. He used to call it
+          'is blue-eyed darling, and the fuss 'e made o' that cat was sinful.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Young Joe Clark couldn't bear it, but being down in 'is uncle's
+          will for five cottages and a bit o' land bringing in about forty
+          pounds a year, he 'ad to 'ide his feelings and pretend as he loved it.
+          He used to take it little drops o' cream and tit-bits o' meat, and old
+          Clark was so pleased that 'e promised 'im that he should 'ave the cat
+          along with all the other property when 'e was dead.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Young Joe said he couldn't thank 'im enough, and the old man,
+          who 'ad been ailing a long time, made 'im come up every day to teach
+          'im 'ow to take care of it arter he was gone. He taught Joe 'ow to
+          cook its meat and then chop it up fine; 'ow it liked a clean saucer
+          every time for its milk; and 'ow he wasn't to make a noise when it was
+          asleep.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Take care your children don't worry it, Joe,” he ses one day,
+          very sharp. “One o' your boys was pulling its tail this morning, and I
+          want you to clump his 'ead for 'im.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Which one was it?” ses Joe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“The slobbery-nosed one,” ses old Clark.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll give 'im a clout as soon as I get 'ome,” ses Joe, who was
+          very fond of 'is children.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Go and fetch 'im and do it 'ere,” ses the old man; “that'll
+          teach 'im to love animals.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Joe went off 'ome to fetch the boy, and arter his mother 'ad
+          washed his face, and wiped his nose, an' put a clean pinneyfore on
+          'im, he took 'im to 'is uncle's and clouted his 'ead for 'im. Arter
+          that Joe and 'is wife 'ad words all night long, and next morning old
+          Clark, coming in from the garden, was just in time to see 'im kick the
+          cat right acrost the kitchen.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He could 'ardly speak for a minute, and when 'e could Joe see
+          plain wot a fool he'd been. Fust of all 'e called Joe every name he
+          could think of— which took 'im a long time—and then he ordered 'im out
+          of 'is house.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You shall 'ave my money wen your betters have done with it,” he
+          ses, “and not afore. That's all you've done for yourself.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Joe Clark didn't know wot he meant at the time, but when old
+          Clark died three months arterwards 'e found out. His uncle 'ad made a
+          new will and left everything to old George Barstow for as long as the
+          cat lived, providing that he took care of it. When the cat was dead
+          the property was to go to Joe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cat was only two years old at the time, and George Barstow,
+          who was arf crazy with joy, said it shouldn't be 'is fault if it
+          didn't live another twenty years.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The funny thing was the quiet way Joe Clark took it. He didn't
+          seem to be at all cut up about it, and when Henery Walker said it was
+          a shame, 'e said he didn't mind, and that George Barstow was a old
+          man, and he was quite welcome to 'ave the property as long as the cat
+          lived.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It must come to me by the time I'm an old man,” he ses, “ard
+          that's all I care about.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker went off, and as 'e passed the cottage where old
+          Clark used to live, and which George Barstow 'ad moved into, 'e spoke
+          to the old man over the palings and told 'im wot Joe Clark 'ad said.
+          George Barstow only grunted and went on stooping and prying over 'is
+          front garden.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Bin and lost something?” ses Henery Walker, watching 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“No; I'm finding,” ses George Barstow, very fierce, and picking
+          up something. “That's the fifth bit o' powdered liver I've found in my
+          garden this morning.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker went off whistling, and the opinion he'd 'ad o'
+          Joe Clark began to improve. He spoke to Joe about it that arternoon,
+          and Joe said that if 'e ever accused 'im o' such a thing again he'd
+          knock 'is 'ead off. He said that he 'oped the cat 'ud live to be a
+          hundred, and that 'e'd no more think of giving it poisoned meat than
+          Henery Walker would of paying for 'is drink so long as 'e could get
+          anybody else to do it for 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They 'ad bets up at this 'ere Cauliflower public-'ouse that
+          evening as to 'ow long that cat 'ud live. Nobody gave it more than a
+          month, and Bill Chambers sat and thought o' so many ways o' killing it
+          on the sly that it was wunnerful to hear 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Barstow took fright when he 'eard of them, and the care
+          'e took o' that cat was wunnerful to behold. Arf its time it was shut
+          up in the back bedroom, and the other arf George Barstow was fussing
+          arter it till that cat got to hate 'im like pison. Instead o' giving
+          up work as he'd thought to do, 'e told Henery Walker that 'e'd never
+          worked so 'ard in his life.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot about fresh air and exercise for it?” ses Henery.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot about Joe Clark?” ses George Bar-stow. “I'm tied 'and and
+          foot. I dursent leave the house for a moment. I ain't been to the
+          Cauliflower since I've 'ad it, and three times I got out o' bed last
+          night to see if it was safe.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Mark my words,” ses Henery Walker; “if that cat don't 'ave
+          exercise, you'll lose it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I shall lose it if it does 'ave exercise,” ses George Barstow,
+          “that I know.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He sat down thinking arter Henery Walker 'ad gone, and then he
+          'ad a little collar and chain made for it, and took it out for a walk.
+          Pretty nearly every dog in Claybury went with 'em, and the cat was in
+          such a state o' mind afore they got 'ome he couldn't do anything with
+          it. It 'ad a fit as soon as they got indoors, and George Barstow, who
+          'ad read about children's fits in the almanac, gave it a warm bath. It
+          brought it round immediate, and then it began to tear round the room
+          and up and downstairs till George Barstow was afraid to go near it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 70%" id="figure-187">
+          <span
+          id="he-ad-a-little-collar-and-chain-made-for-it-and-took-it-out-for-a-walk"></span><img
+          class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" "
+          src="images/017.jpg" />
+        </div>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It was so bad that evening, sneezing, that George Barstow sent
+          for Bill Chambers, who'd got a good name for doctoring animals, and
+          asked 'im to give it something. Bill said he'd got some powders at
+          'ome that would cure it at once, and he went and fetched 'em and mixed
+          one up with a bit o' butter.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's the way to give a cat medicine,” he ses; “smear it with
+          the butter and then it'll lick it off, powder and all.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He was just going to rub it on the cat when George Barstow
+          caught 'old of 'is arm and stopped 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“How do I know it ain't pison?” he ses. “You're a friend o' Joe
+          Clark's, and for all I know he may ha' paid you to pison it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I wouldn't do such a thing,” ses Bill. “You ought to know me
+          better than that.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“All right,” ses George Barstow; “you eat it then, and I'll give
+          you two shillings in stead o' one. You can easy mix some more.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not me,” ses Bill Chambers, making a face.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, three shillings, then,” ses George Barstow, getting more
+          and more suspicious like; “four shillings—five shillings.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill Chambers shook his 'ead, and George Barstow, more and more
+          certain that he 'ad caught 'im trying to kill 'is cat and that 'e
+          wouldn't eat the stuff, rose 'im up to ten shillings.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill looked at the butter and then 'e looked at the ten
+          shillings on the table, and at last he shut 'is eyes and gulped it
+          down and put the money in 'is pocket.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You see, I 'ave to be careful, Bill,” ses George Barstow,
+          rather upset.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill Chambers didn't answer 'im. He sat there as white as a
+          sheet, and making such extraordinary faces that George was arf afraid
+          of 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Anything wrong, Bill?” he ses at last.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bill sat staring at 'im, and then all of a sudden he clapped 'is
+          'andkerchief to 'is mouth and, getting up from his chair, opened the
+          door and rushed out. George Barstow thought at fust that he 'ad eaten
+          pison for the sake o' the ten shillings, but when 'e remembered that
+          Bill Chambers 'ad got the most delikit stummick in Claybury he altered
+          'is mind.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The cat was better next morning, but George Barstow had 'ad such
+          a fright about it 'e wouldn't let it go out of 'is sight, and Joe
+          Clark began to think that 'e would 'ave to wait longer for that
+          property than 'e had thought, arter all. To 'ear 'im talk anybody'd
+          ha' thought that 'e loved that cat. We didn't pay much attention to it
+          up at the Cauliflower 'ere, except maybe to wink at 'im—a thing he
+          couldn't a bear—but at 'ome, o' course, his young 'uns thought as
+          everything he said was Gospel; and one day, coming 'ome from work, as
+          he was passing George Barstow's he was paid out for his deceitfulness.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've wronged you, Joe Clark,” ses George Barstow, coming to the
+          door, “and I'm sorry for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh!” ses Joe, staring.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Give that to your little Jimmy,” ses George Barstow, giving 'im
+          a shilling. “I've give 'im one, but I thought arterwards it wasn't
+          enough.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“What for?” ses Joe, staring at 'im agin.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“For bringing my cat 'ome,” ses George Barstow. “'Ow it got out
+          I can't think, but I lost it for three hours, and I'd about given it
+          up when your little Jimmy brought it to me in 'is arms. He's a fine
+          little chap and 'e does you credit.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Joe Clark tried to speak, but he couldn't get a word out, and
+          Henery Walker, wot 'ad just come up and 'eard wot passed, took hold of
+          'is arm and helped 'im home. He walked like a man in a dream, but
+          arf-way he stopped and cut a stick from the hedge to take 'ome to
+          little Jimmy. He said the boy 'ad been asking him for a stick for some
+          time, but up till then 'e'd always forgotten it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>At the end o' the fust year that cat was still alive, to
+          everybody's surprise; but George Barstow took such care of it 'e never
+          let it out of 'is sight. Every time 'e went out he took it with 'im in
+          a hamper, and, to prevent its being pisoned, he paid Isaac Sawyer, who
+          'ad the biggest family in Claybury, sixpence a week to let one of 'is
+          boys taste its milk before it had it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>The second year it was ill twice, but the horse-doctor that
+          George Barstow got for it said that it was as 'ard as nails, and with
+          care it might live to be twenty. He said that it wanted more fresh air
+          and exercise; but when he 'eard 'ow George Barstow come by it he said
+          that p'r'aps it would live longer indoors arter all.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>At last one day, when George Barstow 'ad been living on the fat
+          o' the land for nearly three years, that cat got out agin. George 'ad
+          raised the front-room winder two or three inches to throw something
+          outside, and, afore he knew wot was 'appening, the cat was out-side
+          and going up the road about twenty miles an hour.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Barstow went arter it, but he might as well ha' tried to
+          catch the wind. The cat was arf wild with joy at getting out agin, and
+          he couldn't get within arf a mile of it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He stayed out all day without food or drink, follering it about
+          until it came on dark, and then, o' course, he lost sight of it, and,
+          hoping against 'ope that it would come home for its food, he went 'ome
+          and waited for it. He sat up all night dozing in a chair in the front
+          room with the door left open, but it was all no use; and arter
+          thinking for a long time wot was best to do, he went out and told some
+          o' the folks it was lost and offered a reward of five pounds for it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>You never saw such a hunt then in all your life. Nearly every
+          man, woman, and child in Claybury left their work or school and went
+          to try and earn that five pounds. By the arternoon George Barstow made
+          it ten pounds provided the cat was brought 'ome safe and sound, and
+          people as was too old to walk stood at their cottage doors to snap it
+          up as it came by.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Joe Clark was hunting for it 'igh and low, and so was 'is wife
+          and the boys. In fact, I b'lieve that everybody in Claybury excepting
+          the parson and Bob Pretty was trying to get that ten pounds.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>O' course, we could understand the parson—'is pride wouldn't let
+          'im; but a low, poaching, thieving rascal like Bob Pretty turning up
+          'is nose at ten pounds was more than we could make out. Even on the
+          second day, when George Barstow made it ten pounds down and a shilling
+          a week for a year besides, he didn't offer to stir; all he did was to
+          try and make fun o' them as was looking for it.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Have you looked everywhere you can think of for it, Bill?” he
+          ses to Bill Chambers. “Yes, I 'ave,” ses Bill.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, then, you want to look everywhere else,” ses Bob Pretty.
+          “I know where I should look if I wanted to find it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Why don't you find it, then?” ses Bill.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Cos I don't want to make mischief,” ses Bob Pretty. “I don't
+          want to be unneighbourly to Joe Clark by interfering at all.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not for all that money?” ses Bill.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not for fifty pounds,” ses Bob Pretty; “you ought to know me
+          better than that, Bill Chambers.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's my belief that you know more about where that cat is than
+          you ought to,” ses Joe Gubbins.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You go on looking for it, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty, grinning; “it's
+          good exercise for you, and you've only lost two days' work.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll give you arf a crown if you let me search your 'ouse,
+          Bob,” ses Bill Chambers, looking at 'im very 'ard.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I couldn't do it at the price, Bill,” ses Bob Pretty, shaking
+          his 'ead. “I'm a pore man, but I'm very partikler who I 'ave come into
+          my 'ouse.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>O' course, everybody left off looking at once when they heard
+          about Bob— not that they believed that he'd be such a fool as to keep
+          the cat in his 'ouse; and that evening, as soon as it was dark, Joe
+          Clark went round to see 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't tell me as that cat's found, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty, as Joe
+          opened the door.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not as I've 'eard of,” said Joe, stepping inside. “I wanted to
+          speak to you about it; the sooner it's found the better I shall be
+          pleased.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It does you credit, Joe Clark,” ses Bob Pretty.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's my belief that it's dead,” ses Joe, looking at 'im very
+          'ard; “but I want to make sure afore taking over the property.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob Pretty looked at 'im and then he gave a little cough. “Oh,
+          you want it to be found dead,” he ses. “Now, I wonder whether that
+          cat's worth most dead or alive?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Joe Clark coughed then. “Dead, I should think,” he ses at last.
+          “George Barstow's just 'ad bills printed offering fifteen pounds for
+          it,” ses Bob Pretty.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll give that or more when I come into the property,” ses Joe
+          Clark.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's nothing like ready-money, though, is there?” ses Bob.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'll promise it to you in writing, Bob,” ses Joe, trembling.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“There's some things that don't look well in writing, Joe,” says
+          Bob Pretty, considering; “besides, why should you promise it to me?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“O' course, I meant if you found it,” ses Joe.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Well, I'll do my best, Joe,” ses Bob Pretty; “and none of us
+          can do no more than that, can they?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>They sat talking and argufying over it for over an hour, and
+          twice Bob Pretty got up and said 'e was going to see whether George
+          Barstow wouldn't offer more. By the time they parted they was as thick
+          as thieves, and next morning Bob Pretty was wearing Joe Clark's watch
+          and chain, and Mrs. Pretty was up at Joe's 'ouse to see whether there
+          was any of 'is furniture as she 'ad a fancy for.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>She didn't seem to be able to make up 'er mind at fust between a
+          chest o' drawers that 'ad belonged to Joe's mother and a grand-father
+          clock. She walked from one to the other for about ten minutes, and
+          then Bob, who 'ad come in to 'elp her, told 'er to 'ave both.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're quite welcome,” he ses; “ain't she, Joe?”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Joe Clark said “Yes,” and arter he 'ad helped them carry 'em
+          'ome the Prettys went back and took the best bedstead to pieces, cos
+          Bob said as it was easier to carry that way. Mrs. Clark 'ad to go and
+          sit down at the bottom o' the garden with the neck of 'er dress undone
+          to give herself air, but when she saw the little Prettys each walking
+          'ome with one of 'er best chairs on their 'eads she got and walked up
+          and down like a mad thing.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I'm sure I don't know where we are to put it all,” ses Bob
+          Pretty to Joe Gubbins, wot was looking on with other folks, “but Joe
+          Clark is that generous he won't 'ear of our leaving anything.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Has 'e gorn mad?” ses Bill Chambers, staring at 'im.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Not as I knows on,” ses Bob Pretty. “It's 'is good-'artedness,
+          that's all. He feels sure that that cat's dead, and that he'll 'ave
+          George Barstow's cottage and furniture. I told 'im he'd better wait
+          till he'd made sure, but 'e wouldn't.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Before they'd finished the Prettys 'ad picked that 'ouse as
+          clean as a bone, and Joe Clark 'ad to go and get clean straw for his
+          wife and children to sleep on; not that Mrs. Clark 'ad any sleep that
+          night, nor Joe neither.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Henery Walker was the fust to see what it really meant, and he
+          went rushing off as fast as 'e could run to tell George Barstow.
+          George couldn't believe 'im at fust, but when 'e did he swore that if
+          a 'air of that cat's head was harmed 'e'd 'ave the law o' Bob Pretty,
+          and arter Henery Walker 'ad gone 'e walked round to tell 'im so.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You're not yourself, George Barstow, else you wouldn't try and
+          take away my character like that,” ses Bob Pretty.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot did Joe Clark give you all them things for?” ses George,
+          pointing to the furniture.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Took a fancy to me, I s'pose,” ses Bob. “People do sometimes.
+          There's something about me at times that makes 'em like me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He gave 'em to you to kill my cat,” ses George Barstow. “It's
+          plain enough for any-body to see.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob Pretty smiled. “I expect it'll turn up safe and sound one o'
+          these days,” he ses, “and then you'll come round and beg my pardon.
+          P'r'aps—”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“P'r'aps wot?” ses George Barstow, arter waiting a bit.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“P'r'aps somebody 'as got it and is keeping it till you've
+          drawed the fifteen pounds out o' the bank,” ses Bob, looking at 'im
+          very hard.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I've taken it out o' the bank,” ses George, starting; “if that
+          cat's alive, Bob, and you've got it, there's the fifteen pounds the
+          moment you 'and it over.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot d'ye mean—me got it?” ses Bob Pretty. “You be careful o' my
+          character.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I mean if you know where it is,” ses George Barstow trembling
+          all over.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I don't say I couldn't find it, if that's wot you mean,” ses
+          Bob. “I can gin'rally find things when I want to.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“You find me that cat, alive and well, and the money's yours,
+          Bob,” ses George, 'ardly able to speak, now that 'e fancied the cat
+          was still alive.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Bob Pretty shook his 'ead. “No; that won't do,” he ses. “S'pose
+          I did 'ave the luck to find that pore animal, you'd say I'd had it all
+          the time and refuse to pay.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I swear I wouldn't, Bob,” ses George Barstow, jumping up.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Best thing you can do if you want me to try and find that cat,”
+          says Bob Pretty, “is to give me the fifteen pounds now, and I'll go
+          and look for it at once. I can't trust you, George Barstow.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“And I can't trust you,” ses George Barstow.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Very good,” ses Bob, getting up; “there's no 'arm done. P'r'aps
+          Joe Clark 'll find the cat is dead and p'r'aps you'll find it's alive.
+          It's all one to me.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Barstow walked off 'ome, but he was in such a state o'
+          mind 'e didn't know wot to do. Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose at
+          fifteen pounds like that made 'im think that Joe Clark 'ad promised to
+          pay 'im more if the cat was dead; and at last, arter worrying about it
+          for a couple o' hours, 'e came up to this 'ere Cauliflower and offered
+          Bob the fifteen pounds.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Wot's this for?” ses Bob.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“For finding my cat,” ses George.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Look here,” ses Bob, handing it back, “I've 'ad enough o' your
+          insults; I don't know where your cat is.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I mean for trying to find it, Bob,” ses George Barstow.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Oh, well, I don't mind that,” ses Bob, taking it. “I'm a
+          'ard-working man, and I've got to be paid for my time; it's on'y fair
+          to my wife and children. I'll start now.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He finished up 'is beer, and while the other chaps was telling
+          George Barstow wot a fool he was Joe Clark slipped out arter Bob
+          Pretty and began to call 'im all the names he could think of.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Don't you worry,” ses Bob; “the cat ain't found yet.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“Is it dead?” ses Joe Clark, 'ardly able to speak.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“'Ow should I know?” ses Bob; “that's wot I've got to try and
+          find out. That's wot you gave me your furniture for, and wot George
+          Barstow gave me the fifteen pounds for, ain't it? Now, don't you stop
+          me now, 'cos I'm goin' to begin looking.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>He started looking there and then, and for the next two or three
+          days George Barstow and Joe Clark see 'im walking up and down with his
+          'ands in 'is pockets looking over garden fences and calling “Puss.” He
+          asked everybody 'e see whether they 'ad seen a white cat with one blue
+          eye and one yaller one, and every time 'e came into the Cauliflower he
+          put his 'ead over the bar and called “Puss,” 'cos, as 'e said, it was
+          as likely to be there as anywhere else.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>It was about a week after the cat 'ad disappeared that George
+          Barstow was standing at 'is door talking to Joe Clark, who was saying
+          the cat must be dead and 'e wanted 'is property, when he sees a man
+          coming up the road carrying a basket stop and speak to Bill Chambers.
+          Just as 'e got near them an awful “miaow” come from the basket and
+          George Barstow and Joe Clark started as if they'd been shot.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“He's found it?” shouts Bill Chambers, pointing to the man.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“It's been living with me over at Ling for a week pretty
+          nearly,” ses the man. “I tried to drive it away several times, not
+          knowing that there was fifteen pounds offered for it.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Barstow tried to take 'old of the basket.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“I want that fifteen pounds fust,” ses the man.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>“That's on'y right and fair, George,” ses Bob Pretty, who 'ad
+          just come up. “You've got all the luck, mate. We've been hunting 'igh
+          and low for that cat for a week.”</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>Then George Barstow tried to explain to the man and call Bob
+          Pretty names at the same time; but it was all no good. The man said it
+          'ad nothing to do with 'im wot he 'ad paid to Bob Pretty; and at last
+          they fetched Policeman White over from Cudford, and George Barstow
+          signed a paper to pay five shillings a week till the reward was paid.</span>
+        </p>
+        <p class="pnext">
+          <span>George Barstow 'ad the cat for five years arter that, but he
+          never let it get away agin. They got to like each other in time and
+          died within a fortnight of each other, so that Joe Clark got 'is
+          property arter all.</span>
+        </p>
+</div>
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,5486 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captains All and Others, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
+
+
+Title: Captains All and Others
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: October 30, 2006 [EBook #11191]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAINS ALL AND OTHERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAINS ALL
+
+Complete
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+Contents:
+   Captains All 
+   The Boatswain's Mate 
+   The Nest Egg 
+   The Constable's Move 
+   Bob's Redemption 
+   Over The Side 
+   The Four Pigeons 
+   The Temptation Of Samuel Burge 
+   The Madness Of Mr. Lister 
+   The White Cat 
+
+
+
+
+CAPTAINS ALL
+
+[Illustration: "Captains All."]
+
+Every sailorman grumbles about the sea, said the night-watchman,
+thoughtfully.  It's human nature to grumble, and I s'pose they keep on
+grumbling and sticking to it because there ain't much else they can do.
+There's not many shore-going berths that a sailorman is fit for, and
+those that they are--such as a night-watchman's, for instance--wants such
+a good character that there's few as are to equal it.
+
+Sometimes they get things to do ashore.  I knew one man that took up
+butchering, and 'e did very well at it till the police took him up.
+Another man I knew gave up the sea to marry a washerwoman, and they
+hadn't been married six months afore she died, and back he 'ad to go to
+sea agin, pore chap.
+
+A man who used to grumble awful about the sea was old Sam Small--a man
+I've spoke of to you before.  To hear 'im go on about the sea, arter he
+'ad spent four or five months' money in a fortnight, was 'artbreaking.
+He used to ask us wot was going to happen to 'im in his old age, and when
+we pointed out that he wouldn't be likely to 'ave any old age if he
+wasn't more careful of 'imself he used to fly into a temper and call us
+everything 'e could lay his tongue to.
+
+One time when 'e was ashore with Peter Russet and Ginger Dick he seemed
+to 'ave got it on the brain.  He started being careful of 'is money
+instead o' spending it, and three mornings running he bought a newspaper
+and read the advertisements, to see whether there was any comfortable
+berth for a strong, good-'arted man wot didn't like work.
+
+He actually went arter one situation, and, if it hadn't ha' been for
+seventy-nine other men, he said he believed he'd ha' had a good chance of
+getting it.  As it was, all 'e got was a black eye for shoving another
+man, and for a day or two he was so down-'arted that 'e was no company at
+all for the other two.
+
+For three or four days 'e went out by 'imself, and then, all of a sudden,
+Ginger Dick and Peter began to notice a great change in him.  He seemed
+to 'ave got quite cheerful and 'appy.  He answered 'em back pleasant when
+they spoke to 'im, and one night he lay in 'is bed whistling comic songs
+until Ginger and Peter Russet 'ad to get out o' bed to him.  When he
+bought a new necktie and a smart cap and washed 'imself twice in one day
+they fust began to ask each other wot was up, and then they asked him.
+
+"Up?" ses Sam; "nothing."
+
+"He's in love," ses Peter Russet.
+
+"You're a liar," ses Sam, without turning round.
+
+"He'll 'ave it bad at 'is age," ses Ginger.
+
+Sam didn't say nothing, but he kept fidgeting about as though 'e'd got
+something on his mind.  Fust he looked out o' the winder, then he 'ummed
+a tune, and at last, looking at 'em very fierce, he took a tooth-brush
+wrapped in paper out of 'is pocket and began to clean 'is teeth.
+
+"He is in love," ses Ginger, as soon as he could speak.
+
+"Or else 'e's gorn mad," ses Peter, watching 'im.  "Which is it, Sam?"
+
+Sam made believe that he couldn't answer 'im because o' the tooth-brush,
+and arter he'd finished he 'ad such a raging toothache that 'e sat in a
+corner holding 'is face and looking the pictur' o' misery.  They couldn't
+get a word out of him till they asked 'im to go out with them, and then
+he said 'e was going to bed.  Twenty minutes arterwards, when Ginger Dick
+stepped back for 'is pipe, he found he 'ad gorn.
+
+He tried the same game next night, but the other two wouldn't 'ave it,
+and they stayed in so long that at last 'e lost 'is temper, and, arter
+wondering wot Ginger's father and mother could ha' been a-thinking about,
+and saying that he believed Peter Russet 'ad been changed at birth for a
+sea-sick monkey, he put on 'is cap and went out.  Both of 'em follered
+'im sharp, but when he led 'em to a mission-hall, and actually went
+inside, they left 'im and went off on their own.
+
+They talked it over that night between themselves, and next evening they
+went out fust and hid themselves round the corner.  Ten minutes
+arterwards old Sam came out, walking as though 'e was going to catch a
+train; and smiling to think 'ow he 'ad shaken them off.  At the corner of
+Commercial Road he stopped and bought 'imself a button-hole for 'is coat,
+and Ginger was so surprised that 'e pinched Peter Russet to make sure
+that he wasn't dreaming.
+
+Old Sam walked straight on whistling, and every now and then looking down
+at 'is button-hole, until by-and-by he turned down a street on the right
+and went into a little shop.  Ginger Dick and Peter waited for 'im at the
+corner, but he was inside for so long that at last they got tired o'
+waiting and crept up and peeped through the winder.
+
+It was a little tobacconist's shop, with newspapers and penny toys and
+such-like; but, as far as Ginger could see through two rows o' pipes and
+the Police News, it was empty.  They stood there with their noses pressed
+against the glass for some time, wondering wot had 'appened to Sam, but
+by-and-by a little boy went in and then they began to 'ave an idea wot
+Sam's little game was.
+
+As the shop-bell went the door of a little parlour at the back of the
+shop opened, and a stout and uncommon good-looking woman of about forty
+came out.  Her 'ead pushed the _Police News_ out o' the way and her 'and
+came groping into the winder arter a toy.
+
+Ginger 'ad a good look at 'er out o' the corner of one eye, while he
+pretended to be looking at a tobacco-jar with the other.  As the little
+boy came out 'im and Peter Russet went in.
+
+"I want a pipe, please," he ses, smiling at 'er; "a clay pipe--one o' your
+best."  The woman handed 'im down a box to choose from, and just then
+Peter, wot 'ad been staring in at the arf-open door at a boot wot wanted
+lacing up, gave a big start and ses, "Why!  Halloa!"
+
+"Wot's the matter?" ses the woman, looking at 'im.
+
+"I'd know that foot anywhere," ses Peter, still staring at it; and the
+words was hardly out of 'is mouth afore the foot 'ad moved itself away
+and tucked itself under its chair.  "Why, that's my dear old friend Sam
+Small, ain't it?"
+
+"Do you know the captin?" ses the woman, smiling at 'im.
+
+"Cap----?" ses Peter.  "Cap----?  Oh, yes; why, he's the biggest friend
+I've got."  "'Ow strange!" ses the woman.
+
+"We've been wanting to see 'im for some time," ses Ginger.  "He was kind
+enough to lend me arf a crown the other day, and I've been wanting to pay
+'im."
+
+"Captin Small," ses the woman, pushing open the door, "here's some old
+friends o' yours."
+
+Old Sam turned 'is face round and looked at 'em, and if looks could ha'
+killed, as the saying is, they'd ha' been dead men there and then.
+
+"Oh, yes," he ses, in a choking voice; "'ow are you?"
+
+"Pretty well, thank you, captin," ses Ginger, grinning at 'im; "and 'ow's
+yourself arter all this long time?"
+
+He held out 'is hand and Sam shook it, and then shook 'ands with Peter
+Russet, who was grinning so 'ard that he couldn't speak.
+
+"These are two old friends o' mine, Mrs. Finch," ses old Sam, giving 'em
+a warning look; "Captin Dick and Captin Russet, two o' the oldest and
+best friends a man ever 'ad."
+
+"Captin Dick 'as got arf a crown for you," ses Peter Russet, still
+grinning.
+
+"There now," ses Ginger, looking vexed, "if I ain't been and forgot it;
+I've on'y got arf a sovereign."
+
+"I can give you change, sir," ses Mrs. Finch.  "P'r'aps you'd like to sit
+down for five minutes?"
+
+Ginger thanked 'er, and 'im and Peter Russet took a chair apiece in front
+o' the fire and began asking old Sam about 'is 'ealth, and wot he'd been
+doing since they saw 'im last.
+
+"Fancy your reckernizing his foot," ses Mrs. Finch, coming in with the
+change.
+
+"I'd know it anywhere," ses Peter, who was watching Ginger pretending to
+give Sam Small the 'arf-dollar, and Sam pretending in a most lifelike
+manner to take it.
+
+Ginger Dick looked round the room.  It was a comfortable little place,
+with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs, and a row
+of pink vases on the mantelpiece.  Then 'e looked at Mrs. Finch, and
+thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.
+
+"This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty, troublesome
+sailormen to look arter, Captin Small," he ses.
+
+"It's wonderful the way he manages 'em," ses Peter Russet to Mrs. Finch.
+"Like a lion he is."
+
+"A roaring lion," ses Ginger, looking at Sam.  "He don't know wot fear
+is."
+
+Sam began to smile, and Mrs. Finch looked at 'im so pleased that Peter
+Russet, who 'ad been looking at 'er and the room, and thinking much the
+same way as Ginger, began to think that they was on the wrong tack.
+
+"Afore 'e got stout and old," he ses, shaking his 'ead, "there wasn't a
+smarter skipper afloat."
+
+"We all 'ave our day," ses Ginger, shaking his 'ead too.
+
+"I dessay he's good for another year or two afloat, yet," ses Peter
+Russet, considering.  "With care," ses Ginger.
+
+Old Sam was going to say something, but 'e stopped himself just in time.
+"They will 'ave their joke," he ses, turning to Mrs. Finch and trying to
+smile.  "I feel as young as ever I did."
+
+Mrs. Finch said that anybody with arf an eye could see that, and then she
+looked at a kettle that was singing on the 'ob.
+
+"I s'pose you gentlemen wouldn't care for a cup o' cocoa?" she ses,
+turning to them.
+
+Ginger Dick and Peter both said that they liked it better than anything
+else, and, arter she 'ad got out the cups and saucers and a tin o' cocoa,
+Ginger held the kettle and poured the water in the cups while she stirred
+them, and old Sam sat looking on 'elpless.
+
+"It does seem funny to see you drinking cocoa, captin," ses Ginger, as
+old Sam took his cup.
+
+"Ho!" ses Sam, firing up; "and why, if I might make so bold as to ask?"
+
+"'Cos I've generally seen you drinking something out of a bottle," ses
+Ginger.
+
+"Now, look 'ere," ses Sam, starting up and spilling some of the hot cocoa
+over 'is lap.
+
+"A ginger-beer bottle," ses Peter Russet, making faces at Ginger to keep
+quiet.
+
+"Yes, o' course, that's wot I meant," ses Ginger.
+
+Old Sam wiped the cocoa off 'is knees without saying a word, but his
+weskit kept going up and down till Peter Russet felt quite sorry for 'im.
+
+"There's nothing like it," he ses to Mrs. Finch.  "It was by sticking to
+ginger-beer and milk and such-like that Captain Small 'ad command of a
+ship afore 'e was twenty-five."
+
+"Lor'!" ses Mrs. Finch.
+
+She smiled at old Sam till Peter got uneasy agin, and began to think
+p'r'aps 'e'd been praising 'im too much.
+
+"Of course, I'm speaking of long ago now," he ses.
+
+"Years and years afore you was born, ma'am," ses Ginger.
+
+Old Sam was going to say something, but Mrs. Finch looked so pleased that
+'e thought better of it.  Some o' the cocoa 'e was drinking went the
+wrong way, and then Ginger patted 'im on the back and told 'im to be
+careful not to bring on 'is brownchitis agin.  Wot with temper and being
+afraid to speak for fear they should let Mrs. Finch know that 'e wasn't a
+captin, he could 'ardly bear 'imself, but he very near broke out when
+Peter Russet advised 'im to 'ave his weskit lined with red flannel.  They
+all stayed on till closing time, and by the time they left they 'ad made
+theirselves so pleasant that Mrs. Finch said she'd be pleased to see them
+any time they liked to look in.
+
+Sam Small waited till they 'ad turned the corner, and then he broke out
+so alarming that they could 'ardly do anything with 'im.  Twice policemen
+spoke to 'im and advised 'im to go home afore they altered their minds;
+and he 'ad to hold 'imself in and keep quiet while Ginger and Peter
+Russet took 'is arms and said they were seeing him 'ome.
+
+He started the row agin when they got in-doors, and sat up in 'is bed
+smacking 'is lips over the things he'd like to 'ave done to them if he
+could.  And then, arter saying 'ow he'd like to see Ginger boiled alive
+like a lobster, he said he knew that 'e was a noble-'arted feller who
+wouldn't try and cut an old pal out, and that it was a case of love at
+first sight on top of a tram-car.
+
+"She's too young for you," ses Ginger; "and too good-looking besides."
+
+"It's the nice little bisness he's fallen in love with, Ginger," ses
+Peter Russet.  "I'll toss you who 'as it."
+
+Ginger, who was siting on the foot o' Sam's bed, said "no" at fust, but
+arter a time he pulled out arf a dollar and spun it in the air.
+
+That was the last 'e see of it, although he 'ad Sam out o' bed and all
+the clothes stripped off of it twice.  He spent over arf an hour on his
+'ands and knees looking for it, and Sam said when he was tired of playing
+bears p'r'aps he'd go to bed and get to sleep like a Christian.
+
+They 'ad it all over agin next morning, and at last, as nobody would
+agree to keep quiet and let the others 'ave a fair chance, they made up
+their minds to let the best man win.  Ginger Dick bought a necktie that
+took all the colour out o' Sam's, and Peter Russet went in for a collar
+so big that 'e was lost in it.
+
+They all strolled into the widow's shop separate that night.  Ginger Dick
+'ad smashed his pipe and wanted another; Peter Russet wanted some
+tobacco; and old Sam Small walked in smiling, with a little silver brooch
+for 'er, that he said 'e had picked up.
+
+It was a very nice brooch, and Mrs. Finch was so pleased with it that
+Ginger and Peter sat there as mad as they could be because they 'adn't
+thought of the same thing.
+
+"Captain Small is very lucky at finding things," ses Ginger, at last.
+
+"He's got the name for it," ses Peter Russet.
+
+"It's a handy 'abit," ses Ginger; "it saves spending money.  Who did you
+give that gold bracelet to you picked up the other night, captin?" he
+ses, turning to Sam.
+
+"Gold bracelet?" ses Sam.  "I didn't pick up no gold bracelet.  Wot are
+you talking about?"
+
+"All right, captin; no offence," ses Ginger, holding up his 'and.  "I
+dreamt I saw one  on your mantelpiece, I s'pose.  P'r'aps I oughtn't to
+ha' said anything about it."
+
+Old Sam looked as though he'd like to eat 'im, especially as he noticed
+Mrs. Finch listening and pretending not to.  "Oh! that one," he ses,
+arter a bit o' hard thinking.  "Oh! I found out who it belonged to.  You
+wouldn't believe 'ow pleased they was at getting it back agin."
+
+Ginger Dick coughed and began to think as 'ow old Sam was sharper than he
+'ad given 'im credit for, but afore he could think of anything else to
+say Mrs. Finch looked at old Sam and began to talk about 'is ship, and to
+say 'ow much she should like to see over it.
+
+"I wish I could take you," ses Sam, looking at the other two out o' the
+corner of his eye, "but my ship's over at Dunkirk, in France.  I've just
+run over to London for a week or two to look round."
+
+"And mine's there too," ses Peter Russet, speaking a'most afore old Sam
+'ad finished; "side by side they lay in the harbour."
+
+"Oh, dear," ses Mrs. Finch, folding her 'ands and shaking her 'cad.  "I
+should like to go over a ship one arternoon.  I'd quite made up my mind
+to it, knowing three captins."
+
+She smiled and looked at Ginger; and Sam and Peter looked at 'im too,
+wondering whether he was going to berth his ship at Dunkirk alongside o'
+theirs.
+
+"Ah, I wish I 'ad met you a fortnight ago," ses Ginger, very sad.  "I
+gave up my ship, the High flyer, then, and I'm waiting for one my owners
+are 'aving built for me at New-castle.  They said the High flyer wasn't
+big enough for me.  She was a nice little ship, though.  I believe I've
+got 'er picture somewhere about me!"
+
+He felt in 'is pocket and pulled out a little, crumpled-up photograph of
+a ship he'd been fireman aboard of some years afore, and showed it to
+'er.
+
+"That's me standing on the bridge," he ses, pointing out a little dot
+with the stem of 'is pipe.
+
+"It's your figger," ses Mrs. Finch, straining her eyes.  "I should know
+it anywhere."
+
+"You've got wonderful eyes, ma'am," ses old Sam, choking with 'is pipe.
+
+"Anybody can see that," ses Ginger.  "They're the largest and the bluest
+I've ever seen."
+
+Mrs. Finch told 'im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter Russet
+could see 'ow pleased she was.
+
+"Truth is truth," ses Ginger.  "I'm a plain man, and I speak my mind."
+
+"Blue is my fav'rit' colour," ses old Sam, in a tender voice.  "True
+blue."
+
+Peter Russet began to feel out of it.  "I thought brown was," he ses.
+
+"Ho!" ses Sam, turning on 'im; "and why?"
+
+"I 'ad my reasons," ses Peter, nodding, and shutting 'is mouth very firm.
+
+"I thought brown was 'is fav'rit colour too," ses Ginger.  "I don't know
+why.  It's no use asking me; because if you did I couldn't tell you."
+
+"Brown's a very nice colour," ses Mrs. Finch, wondering wot was the
+matter with old Sam.
+
+"Blue," ses Ginger; "big blue eyes--they're the ones for me.  Other
+people may 'ave their blacks and their browns," he ses, looking at Sam
+and Peter Russet, "but give me blue."
+
+They went on like that all the evening, and every time the shop-bell went
+and the widow 'ad to go out to serve a customer they said in w'ispers wot
+they thought of each other; and once when she came back rather sudden
+Ginger 'ad to explain to 'er that 'e was showing Peter Russet a scratch
+on his knuckle.
+
+Ginger Dick was the fust there next night, and took 'er a little chiney
+teapot he 'ad picked up dirt cheap because it was cracked right acrost
+the middle; but, as he explained that he 'ad dropped it in hurrying to
+see 'er, she was just as pleased.  She stuck it up on the mantelpiece,
+and the things she said about Ginger's kindness and generosity made Peter
+Russet spend good money that he wanted for 'imself on a painted
+flower-pot next evening.
+
+With three men all courting 'er at the same time Mrs. Finch had 'er hands
+full, but she took to it wonderful considering.  She was so nice and kind
+to 'em all that even arter a week's 'ard work none of 'em was really
+certain which she liked best.
+
+They took to going in at odd times o' the day for tobacco and such-like.
+They used to go alone then, but they all met and did the polite to each
+other there of an evening, and then quarrelled all the way 'ome.
+
+Then all of a sudden, without any warning, Ginger Dick and Peter Russet
+left off going there.  The fust evening Sam sat expecting them every
+minute, and was so surprised that he couldn't take any advantage of it;
+but on the second, beginning by squeezing Mrs. Finch's 'and at ha'-past
+seven, he 'ad got best part of his arm round 'er waist by a quarter to
+ten.  He didn't do more that night because she told him to be'ave
+'imself, and threatened to scream if he didn't leave off.
+
+He was arf-way home afore 'e thought of the reason for Ginger Dick and
+Peter Russet giving up, and then he went along smiling to 'imself to such
+an extent that people thought 'e was mad.  He went off to sleep with the
+smile still on 'is lips, and when Peter and Ginger came in soon arter
+closing time and 'e woke up and asked them where they'd been, 'e was
+still smiling.
+
+"I didn't 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you at Mrs. Finch's to-night," he
+ses.
+
+"No," ses Ginger, very short.  "We got tired of it."
+
+"So un'ealthy sitting in that stuffy little room every evening," ses
+Peter.
+
+Old Sam put his 'ead under the bedclothes and laughed till the bed shook;
+and every now and then he'd put his 'ead out and look at Peter and Ginger
+and laugh agin till he choked.
+
+"I see 'ow it is," he ses, sitting up and wiping his eyes on the sheet.
+"Well, we cant all win."
+
+"Wot d'ye mean?" ses Ginger, very disagreeable.
+
+"She wouldn't 'ave you, Sam, thats wot I mean. And I don't wonder at
+it.  I wouldn't 'ave you if I was a gal."
+
+"You're dreaming, ses Peter Russet, sneering at 'im.
+
+"That flower-pot o' yours'll come in handy," ses Sam, thinking 'ow he 'ad
+put 'is arm round the widow's waist; "and I thank you kindly for the
+teapot, Ginger.
+
+"You don't mean to say as you've asked 'er to marry you?" ses Ginger,
+looking at Peter Russet.
+
+"Not quite; but I'm going to," ses Sam, "and I'll bet you even arf-crowns
+she ses 'yes.'"
+
+Ginger wouldn't take 'im, and no more would Peter, not even when he raised
+it to five shillings; and the vain way old Sam lay there boasting and
+talking about 'is way with the gals made 'em both feel ill.
+
+"I wouldn't 'ave her if she asked me on 'er bended knees," ses Ginger,
+holding up his 'ead.
+
+"Nor me," ses Peter.  "You're welcome to 'er, Sam.  When I think of the
+evenings I've wasted over a fat old woman I feel----"
+
+"That'll do," ses old Sam, very sharp; "that ain't the way to speak of a
+lady, even if she 'as said 'no.'"
+
+"All right, Sam," ses Ginger.  "You go in and win if you think you're so
+precious clever."
+
+Old Sam said that that was wot 'e was going to do, and he spent so much
+time next morning making 'imself look pretty that the other two could
+'ardly be civil to him.
+
+He went off a'most direckly arter breakfast, and they didn't see 'im agin
+till twelve o'clock that night.  He 'ad brought a bottle o' whisky in
+with 'im, and he was so 'appy that they see plain wot had 'appened.
+
+"She said 'yes' at two o'clock in the arternoon," ses old Sam, smiling,
+arter they had 'ad a glass apiece.  "I'd nearly done the trick at one
+o'clock, and then the shop-bell went, and I 'ad to begin all over agin.
+Still, it wasn't unpleasant."
+
+"Do you mean to tell us you've asked 'er to marry you?" ses Ginger,
+'olding out 'is glass to be filled agin.
+
+"I do," ses Sam; "but I 'ope there's no ill-feeling.  You never 'ad a
+chance, neither of you; she told me so."
+
+Ginger Dick and Peter Russet stared at each other.
+
+"She said she 'ad been in love with me all along," ses Sam, filling their
+glasses agin to cheer 'em up.  "We went out arter tea and bought the
+engagement-ring, and then she got somebody to mind the shop and we went
+to the Pagoda music-'all."
+
+"I 'ope you didn't pay much for the ring, Sam," ses Ginger, who always
+got very kind-'arted arter two or three glasses o' whisky.  "If I'd known
+you was going to be in such a hurry I might ha' told you before."
+
+"We ought to ha' done," ses Peter, shaking his 'ead.
+
+"Told me?" ses Sam, staring at 'em.  "Told me wot?"
+
+"Why me and Peter gave it up," ses Ginger; "but, o' course, p'r'aps you
+don't mind."
+
+"Mind wot?" ses Sam.
+
+"It's wonderful 'ow quiet she kept it," ses Peter.
+
+Old Sam stared at 'em agin, and then he asked 'em to speak in plain
+English wot they'd got to say, and not to go taking away the character of
+a woman wot wasn't there to speak up for herself.
+
+"It's nothing agin 'er character," ses Ginger.  "It's a credit to her,
+looked at properly," ses Peter Russet.
+
+"And Sam'll 'ave the pleasure of bringing of 'em up," ses Ginger.
+
+"Bringing of 'em up?" ses Sam, in a trembling voice and turning pale;
+"bringing who up?"
+
+"Why, 'er children," ses Ginger.  "Didn't she tell you?  She's got nine
+of 'em."
+
+Sam pretended not to believe 'em at fust, and said they was jealous; but
+next day he crept down to the greengrocer's shop in the same street,
+where Ginger had 'appened to buy some oranges one day, and found that it
+was only too true.  Nine children, the eldest of 'em only fifteen, was
+staying with diff'rent relations owing to scarlet-fever next door.
+
+Old Sam crept back 'ome like a man in a dream, with a bag of oranges he
+didn't want, and, arter making a present of the engagement-ring to
+Ginger--if 'e could get it--he took the fust train to Tilbury and signed
+on for a v'y'ge to China.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE
+
+[Illustration: "The Boatswain's Mate"]
+
+Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with a
+despondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in his
+hand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair,
+eyed him with some heat.
+
+"My feelings'll never change," said the boatswain.
+
+"Nor mine either," said the landlady, sharply.  "It's a strange thing,
+Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third mug."
+
+"It's only to get my courage up," pleaded the boatswain.  "Next time I'll
+do it afore I 'ave a drop; that'll prove to you I'm in earnest."
+
+He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could make a
+selection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.
+
+After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road seemed hot
+and dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a man whose hand
+has been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on unheeding.  His
+steps lagged, but his brain was active.
+
+He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady bank
+took a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe.  The heat
+and the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the corner of
+his mouth, and his eyes closed.
+
+He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling in his
+pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder.  He saw a tall man
+carrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage, the
+keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting the old
+soldier.
+
+The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed him
+pleasantly.
+
+"Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?" he inquired.
+
+The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept that
+luxury.
+
+"Lobster, ain't you?" he said, affably.
+
+The tall man nodded.  "Was," he replied.  "Now I'm my own commander-in-
+chief."
+
+"Padding it?" suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him and
+refilling his pipe.
+
+The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversation
+dropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him.  "I've got
+plenty of time," he remarked.
+
+Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence.  A dim idea which
+had been in his mind for some time began to clarify.  He stole a glance
+at his companion--a man of about thirty-eight, clear eyes, with humorous
+wrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a cheerful expression
+more than tinged with recklessness.
+
+"Ain't over and above fond o' work?" suggested the boatswain, when he had
+finished his inspection.
+
+"I love it," said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, "but we
+can't have all we want in this world; it wouldn't be good for us."
+
+The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed.  Then he rattled his
+pocket.
+
+"Would arf a quid be any good to you?" he inquired.
+
+"Look here," began the soldier; "just because I asked you for a pipe o'
+baccy--"
+
+"No offence," said the other, quickly.  "I mean if you earned it?"
+
+The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth.  "Gardening and
+windows?" he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+
+The boatswain shook his head.
+
+"Scrubbing, p'r'aps?" said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation.
+"Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me of
+pouching the soap.  Hang 'em!"
+
+"And you didn't?" queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.
+
+The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at him
+darkly.  "I can't give it back to you," he said, slowly, "because I've
+smoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only got
+twopence, and that I want for myself.  So long, matey, and next time
+a poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil."
+
+"I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,"
+expostulated the boat-swain.  "I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.
+Good reasons they was."
+
+The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.
+
+"I spoke of arf a sovereign just now," continued the boatswain,
+impressively, "and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o'
+burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your
+honesty."
+
+"_Burgling?_" gasped the astonished soldier.  "_Honesty?_  'Struth; are
+you drunk or am I?"
+
+"Meaning," said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand,
+"for you to pretend to be a burglar."
+
+"We're both drunk, that's what it is," said the other, resignedly.
+
+The boatswain fidgeted.  "If you don't agree, mum's the word and no 'arm
+done," he said, holding out his hand.
+
+"Mum's the word," said the soldier, taking it.  "My name's Ned Travers,
+and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing against it.
+Mind that."
+
+"Might 'appen to anybody," said Mr. Benn, soothingly.  "You fill your
+pipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin."
+
+Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity,
+stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away.  Then he
+resumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other "fire
+away."
+
+"I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet," said Mr. Benn, slowly,
+"but it's in my mind's eye.  It's been there off and on like for some
+time."
+
+He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge.  "Two
+miles from here, where I live," he said, after several vigorous puffs,
+"there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wot
+I've got my eye on."
+
+The soldier sat up.
+
+"She won't 'ave me," said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise.
+
+The soldier leaned back again.
+
+"She's a lone widder," continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, "and the
+Beehive is in a lonely place.  It's right through the village, and the
+nearest house is arf a mile off."
+
+"Silly place for a pub," commented Mr. Travers.
+
+"I've been telling her 'ow unsafe it is," said the boatswain.  "I've been
+telling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she only laughs at
+me.  She don't believe it; d'ye see?  Likewise I'm a small man--small,
+but stiff.  She likes tall men."
+
+"Most women do," said Mr. Travers, sitting upright and instinctively
+twisting his moustache.  "When I was in the ranks--"
+
+"My idea is," continued the boatswain, slightly raising his voice, "to
+kill two birds with one stone--prove to her that she does want being
+protected, and that I'm the man to protect her.  D'ye take my meaning,
+mate?"
+
+The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps.  "Like a lump
+o' wood," he said, approvingly.
+
+"My opinion is," said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, "that she loves
+me without knowing it."
+
+"They often do," said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his head.
+
+"Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed," said the other.
+
+"It does you credit," remarked Mr. Travers.
+
+"I've got a good head," said Mr. Benn, "else I shouldn't 'ave got my
+rating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it over in my
+mind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with it.  Now, if
+you do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all right, damme I'll
+make it a quid."
+
+"Go on, Vanderbilt," said Mr. Travers; "I'm listening."
+
+The boatswain gazed at him fixedly.  "You meet me 'ere in this spot at
+eleven o'clock to-night," he said, solemnly; "and I'll take you to her
+'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of.  You goes upstairs
+and alarms her, and she screams for help.  I'm watching the house,
+faithful-like, and hear 'er scream.  I dashes in at the winder, knocks
+you down, and rescues her.  D'ye see?"
+
+"I hear," corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.
+
+"She clings to me," continued the boat-swain, with a rapt expression of
+face, "in her gratitood, and, proud of my strength and pluck, she marries
+me."
+
+"An' I get a five years' honeymoon," said the soldier.
+
+The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder.  "In the
+excitement of the moment you spring up and escape," he said, with a
+kindly smile.  "I've thought it all out.  You can run much faster than I
+can; any-ways, you will.  The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off, as I said,
+and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's, ten miles
+away."
+
+Mr. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself.  "Time I was
+toddling," he said, with a yawn.  "Thanks for amusing me, mate."
+
+"You won't do it?" said the boatswain, eyeing him with much concern.
+
+"I'm hanged if I do," said the soldier, emphatically.  "Accidents will
+happen, and then where should I be?"
+
+"If they did," said the boatswain, "I'd own up and clear you."
+
+"You might," said Mr. Travers, "and then again you mightn't.  So long,
+mate."
+
+"I--I'll make it two quid," said the boat-swain, trembling with
+eagerness.  "I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the job."
+
+The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his shoulder.
+"Thankee," he said, with mock gratitude.
+
+"Look 'ere," said the boatswain, springing up and catching him by the
+sleeve; "I'll give it to you in writing.  Come, you ain't faint-hearted?
+Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing.  If I give it to
+you in writing, and there should be an accident, it's worse for me than
+it is for you, ain't it?"
+
+Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his head.
+
+"I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house," continued the
+boatswain, hastily following up the impression he had made.  "I'd give
+'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me.  That's my confidence in you; I
+likes the look of you.  Soldier or sailor, when there is a man's work to
+be done, give 'em to me afore anybody."
+
+[Illustration: "'I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house,'
+continued the boatswain."]
+
+The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the ground.
+"Go on," he said, slowly.  "Write it out fair and square and sign it, and
+I'm your man."
+
+The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle of papers
+from his pocket.  "There's letters there with my name and address on
+'em," he said.  "It's all fair, square, and above-board.  When you've
+cast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing."
+
+Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in silence, with
+various side glances at his companion as that enthusiast sucked his
+pencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition.  The document
+finished--after several failures had been retrieved and burnt by the
+careful Mr. Travers--the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and handing
+it over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he read it.
+
+"Seems all right," said the soldier, folding it up and putting it in his
+waistcoat-pocket.  "I'll be here at eleven to-night."
+
+"Eleven it is," said the boatswain, briskly, "and, between pals--here's
+arf a dollar to go on with."
+
+He patted him on the shoulder again, and with a caution to keep out of
+sight as much as possible till night walked slowly home.  His step was
+light, but he carried a face in which care and exultation were strangely
+mingled.
+
+By ten o'clock that night care was in the ascendant, and by eleven, when
+he discerned the red glow of Mr. Travers's pipe set as a beacon against a
+dark background of hedge, the boatswain was ready to curse his inventive
+powers.  Mr. Travers greeted him cheerily and, honestly attributing the
+fact to good food and a couple of pints of beer he had had since the
+boatswain left him, said that he was ready for anything.
+
+Mr. Benn grunted and led the way in silence.  There was no moon, but the
+night was clear, and Mr. Travers, after one or two light-hearted attempts
+at conversation, abandoned the effort and fell to whistling softly
+instead.
+
+Except for one lighted window the village slept in darkness, but the
+boatswain, who had been walking with the stealth of a Red Indian on the
+war-path, breathed more freely after they had left it behind.  A renewal
+of his antics a little farther on apprised Mr. Travers that they were
+approaching their destination, and a minute or two later they came to a
+small inn standing just off the road.  "All shut up and Mrs. Waters abed,
+bless her," whispered the boatswain, after walking care-fully round the
+house.  "How do you feel?"
+
+"I'm all right," said Mr. Travers.  "I feel as if I'd been burgling all
+my life.  How do you feel?"
+
+"Narvous," said Mr. Benn, pausing under a small window at the rear of the
+house.  "This is the one."
+
+Mr. Travers stepped back a few paces and gazed up at the house.  All was
+still.  For a few moments he stood listening and then re-joined the
+boatswain.
+
+"Good-bye, mate," he said, hoisting himself on to the sill.  "Death or
+victory."
+
+The boatswain whispered and thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand.
+"Take your time; there's no hurry," he muttered.  "I want to pull myself
+together.  Frighten 'er enough, but not too much.  When she screams I'll
+come in."
+
+Mr. Travers slipped inside and then thrust his head out of the window.
+"Won't she think it funny you should be so handy?" he inquired.
+
+"No; it's my faithful 'art," said the boat-swain, "keeping watch over her
+every night, that's the ticket.  She won't know no better."
+
+Mr. Travers grinned, and removing his boots passed them out to the other.
+"We don't want her to hear me till I'm upstairs," he whispered.  "Put 'em
+outside, handy for me to pick up."
+
+The boatswain obeyed, and Mr. Travers--who was by no means a good hand at
+darning socks--shivered as he trod lightly over a stone floor.  Then,
+following the instructions of Mr. Benn, he made his way to the stairs and
+mounted noiselessly.
+
+But for a slight stumble half-way up his progress was very creditable for
+an amateur.  He paused and listened and, all being silent, made his way
+to the landing and stopped out-side a door.  Despite himself his heart
+was beating faster than usual.
+
+He pushed the door open slowly and started as it creaked.  Nothing
+happening he pushed again, and standing just inside saw, by a small ewer
+silhouetted against the casement, that he was in a bedroom.  He listened
+for the sound of breathing, but in vain.
+
+"Quiet sleeper," he reflected; "or perhaps it is an empty room.  Now, I
+wonder whether--"
+
+The sound of an opening door made him start violently, and he stood
+still, scarcely breathing, with his ears on the alert.  A light shone on
+the landing, and peeping round the door he saw a woman coming along the
+corridor--a younger and better-looking woman than he had expected to
+see.  In one hand she held aloft a candle, in the other she bore a
+double-barrelled gun.  Mr. Travers withdrew into the room and, as the
+light came nearer, slipped into a big cupboard by the side of the
+fireplace and, standing bolt upright, waited.  The light came into the
+room.
+
+"Must have been my fancy," said a pleasant voice.
+
+"Bless her," smiled Mr. Travers.
+
+His trained ear recognized the sound of cocking triggers.  The next
+moment a heavy body bumped against the door of the cupboard and the key
+turned in the lock.
+
+"Got you!" said the voice, triumphantly.  "Keep still; if you try and
+break out I shall shoot you."
+
+"All right," said Mr. Travers, hastily; "I won't move."
+
+"Better not," said the voice.  "Mind, I've got a gun pointing straight at
+you."
+
+"Point it downwards, there's a good girl," said Mr. Travers, earnestly;
+"and take your finger off the trigger.  If anything happened to me you'd
+never forgive yourself."
+
+"It's all right so long as you don't move," said the voice; "and I'm not
+a girl," it added, sternly.
+
+"Yes, you are," said the prisoner.  "I saw you.  I thought it was an
+angel at first.  I saw your little bare feet and--"
+
+A faint scream interrupted him.
+
+"You'll catch cold," urged Mr. Travers.
+
+"Don't you trouble about me," said the voice, tartly.
+
+"I won't give any trouble," said Mr. Travers, who began to think it was
+time for the boatswain to appear on the scene.  "Why don't you call for
+help?  I'll go like a lamb."
+
+"I don't want your advice," was the reply.  "I know what to do.  Now,
+don't you try and break out.  I'm going to fire one barrel out of the
+window, but I've got the other one for you if you move."
+
+"My dear girl," protested the horrified Mr. Travers, "you'll alarm the
+neighbourhood."
+
+"Just what I want to do," said the voice.  "Keep still, mind."
+
+Mr. Travers hesitated.  The game was up, and it was clear that in any
+case the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.
+
+"Stop!" he said, earnestly.  "Don't do anything rash.  I'm not a burglar;
+I'm doing this for a friend of yours--Mr. Benn."
+
+"What?" said an amazed voice.
+
+"True as I stand here," asseverated Mr. Travers.  "Here, here's my
+instructions.  I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the back
+window you'll see him in the garden waiting."
+
+He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched from his
+fingers.  He regained an upright position and stood listening to the
+startled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read the
+boatswain's permit:
+
+     "_This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind
+     and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burglar at Mrs.
+     Waters's.  He ain't a burglar, and I shall be outside all the time.
+     It's all above-board and ship-shape.
+
+     "(Signed) George Benn_"
+
+"Sound mind--above-board--ship-shape," repeated a dazed voice.  "Where is
+he?"
+
+"Out at the back," replied Mr. Travers.  "If you go to the window you can
+see him.  Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a good
+girl."
+
+There was no reply, but a board creaked.  He waited for what seemed a
+long time, and then the board creaked again.
+
+"Did you see him?" he inquired.
+
+"I did," was the sharp reply.  "You both ought to be ashamed of
+yourselves.  You ought to be punished."
+
+"There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head," remarked Mr.
+Travers.  "What are you going to do?"
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"What are you going to do?" repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat uneasily.
+"You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as I can judge
+through this crack."
+
+There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody moving
+hastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily donned.
+
+"You ought to have done it before," commented the thoughtful Mr. Travers.
+"It's enough to give you your death of cold."
+
+"Mind your business," said the voice, sharply.  "Now, if I let you out,
+will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?"
+
+"Honour bright," said Mr. Travers, fervently.
+
+"I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget," proceeded the
+other, grimly.  "I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down and
+tell him I've killed you."
+
+"Eh?"  said the amazed Mr. Travers.  "Oh, Lord!"
+
+"H'sh!  Stop that laughing," commanded the voice.  "He'll hear you.  Be
+quiet!"
+
+The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped his
+hand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey.  Mrs. Waters, stepping back
+with the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.
+
+"Come on to the landing," said Mr. Travers, eagerly.  "We don't want
+anybody else to hear.  Fire into this."
+
+He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against the
+balusters.  "You stay here," said Mrs. Waters.  He nodded.
+
+She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with the
+explosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, she
+rushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, tottered
+outside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.
+
+"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried.
+
+"What--what's the matter?" gasped the boatswain.
+
+The widow struggled in his arms.  "A burglar," she said, in a tense
+whisper.  "But it's all right; I've killed him."
+
+"Kill--" stuttered the other.  "Kill----_Killed him?_"
+
+Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, "First shot," she said, with a
+satisfied air.
+
+The boatswain wrung his hands.  "Good heavens!" he said, moving slowly
+towards the door.  "Poor fellow!"
+
+"Come back," said the widow, tugging at his coat.
+
+"I was--was going to see--whether I could do anything for 'im," quavered
+the boatswain.  "Poor fellow!"
+
+"You stay where you are," commanded Mrs. Waters.  "I don't want any
+witnesses.  I don't want this house to have a bad name.  I'm going to
+keep it quiet."
+
+"Quiet?" said the shaking boatswain.  "How?"
+
+"First thing to do," said the widow, thoughtfully, "is to get rid of the
+body.  I'll bury him in the garden, I think.  There's a very good bit of
+ground behind those potatoes.  You'll find the spade in the tool-house."
+
+The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.
+
+"While you're digging the grave," continued Mrs. 'Waters, calmly, "I'll
+go in and clean up the mess."
+
+The boatswain reeled and then fumbled with trembling fingers at his
+collar.
+
+Like a man in a dream he stood watching as she ran to the tool-house and
+returned with a spade and pick; like a man in a dream he followed her on
+to the garden.
+
+"Be careful," she said, sharply; "you're treading down my potatoes."
+
+The boatswain stopped dead and stared at her.  Apparently unconscious of
+his gaze, she began to pace out the measurements and then, placing the
+tools in his hands, urged him to lose no time.
+
+"I'll bring him down when you're gone," she said, looking towards the
+house.
+
+The boatswain wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand.  "How are
+you going to get it downstairs?" he breathed.
+
+"Drag it," said Mrs. Waters, briefly.
+
+"Suppose he isn't dead?" said the boat-swain, with a gleam of hope.
+
+"Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Waters.  "Do you think I don't know?  Now,
+don't waste time talking; and mind you dig it deep.  I'll put a few
+cabbages on top afterwards--I've got more than I want."
+
+She re-entered the house and ran lightly upstairs.  The candle was still
+alight and the gun was leaning against the bed-post; but the visitor had
+disappeared.  Conscious of an odd feeling of disappointment, she looked
+round the empty room.
+
+"Come and look at him," entreated a voice, and she turned and beheld the
+amused countenance of her late prisoner at the door.
+
+"I've been watching from the back window," he said, nodding.  "You're a
+wonder; that's what you are.  Come and look at him."
+
+Mrs. Waters followed, and leaning out of the window watched with simple
+pleasure the efforts of the amateur sexton.  Mr. Benn was digging like
+one possessed, only pausing at intervals to straighten his back and to
+cast a fearsome glance around him.  The only thing that marred her
+pleasure was the behaviour of Mr. Travers, who was struggling for a place
+with all the fervour of a citizen at the Lord Mayor's show.
+
+"Get back," she said, in a fierce whisper.  "He'll see you."
+
+Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim looked up.
+
+"Is that you, Mrs. Waters?" inquired the boatswain, fearfully.
+
+"Yes, of course it is," snapped the widow.  "Who else should it be, do
+you think?  Go on!  What are you stopping for?"
+
+Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctly audible.
+The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside the widow's.
+For a long time they watched in silence.
+
+"Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?" called the boatswain, looking up
+so suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully against the side of
+the window.  "It's a bit creepy, all alone."
+
+"I'm all right," said Mrs. Waters.
+
+"I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant bushes,"
+pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely.  "How you can stay there
+alone I can't think.  I thought I saw something looking over your
+shoulder just now.  Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught hold
+of you!  The widow gave a sudden faint scream.
+
+"If you do that again," she said, turning fiercely on Mr. Travers.
+
+"He put it into my head," said the culprit, humbly; "I should never have
+thought of such a thing by myself.  I'm one of the quietest and
+best-behaved----"
+
+"Make haste, Mr. Benn," said the widow, turning to the window again;
+"I've got a lot to do when you've finished."
+
+The boatswain groaned and fell to digging again, and Mrs. Waters, after
+watching a little while longer, gave Mr. Travers some pointed
+instructions about the window and went down to the garden again.
+
+"That will do, I think," she said, stepping into the hole and regarding
+it critically.  "Now you'd better go straight off home, and, mind, not a
+word to a soul about this."
+
+She put her hand on his shoulder, and noticing with pleasure that he
+shuddered at her touch led the way to the gate.  The boat-swain paused
+for a moment, as though about to speak, and then, apparently thinking
+better of it, bade her good-bye in a hoarse voice and walked feebly up
+the road.  Mrs. Waters stood watching until his steps died away in the
+distance, and then, returning to the garden, took up the spade and stood
+regarding with some dismay the mountainous result of his industry.  Mr.
+Travers, who was standing just inside the back door, joined her.
+
+"Let me," he said, gallantly.
+
+The day was breaking as he finished his task.  The clean, sweet air and
+the exercise had given him an appetite to which the smell of cooking
+bacon and hot coffee that proceeded from the house had set a sharper
+edge.  He took his coat from a bush and put it on.  Mrs. Waters appeared
+at the door.
+
+"You had better come in and have some breakfast before you go," she said,
+brusquely; "there's no more sleep for me now."
+
+Mr. Travers obeyed with alacrity, and after a satisfying wash in the
+scullery came into the big kitchen with his face shining and took a seat
+at the table.  The cloth was neatly laid, and Mrs. Waters, fresh and
+cool, with a smile upon her pleasant face, sat behind the tray.  She
+looked at her guest curiously, Mr. Travers's spirits being somewhat
+higher than the state of his wardrobe appeared to justify.
+
+"Why don't you get some settled work?" she inquired, with gentle
+severity, as he imparted snatches of his history between bites.
+
+"Easier said than done," said Mr. Travers, serenely.  "But don't you run
+away with the idea that I'm a beggar, because I'm not.  I pay my way,
+such as it is.  And, by-the-bye, I s'pose I haven't earned that two
+pounds Benn gave me?"
+
+His face lengthened, and he felt uneasily in his pocket.
+
+"I'll give them to him when I'm tired of the joke," said the widow,
+holding out her hand and watching him closely.
+
+Mr. Travers passed the coins over to her.  "Soft hand you've got," he
+said, musingly.  "I don't wonder Benn was desperate.  I dare say I should
+have done the same in his place."
+
+Mrs. Waters bit her lip and looked out at the window; Mr. Travers resumed
+his breakfast.
+
+"There's only one job that I'm really fit for, now that I'm too old for
+the Army," he said, confidentially, as, breakfast finished, he stood at
+the door ready to depart.
+
+"Playing at burglars?" hazarded Mrs. Waters.
+
+"Landlord of a little country public-house," said Mr. Travers, simply.
+
+Mrs. Waters fell back and regarded him with open-eyed amazement.
+
+"Good morning," she said, as soon as she could trust her voice.
+
+"Good-bye," said Mr. Travers, reluctantly.  "I should like to hear how
+old Benn takes this joke, though."
+
+Mrs. Waters retreated into the house and stood regarding him.  "If you're
+passing this way again and like to look in--I'll tell you," she said,
+after a long pause.  "Good-bye."
+
+"I'll look in in a week's time," said Mr. Travers.
+
+He took the proffered hand and shook it warmly.  "It would be the best
+joke of all," he said, turning away.
+
+"What would?"
+
+The soldier confronted her again.
+
+"For old Benn to come round here one evening and find me landlord.  Think
+it over."
+
+Mrs. Waters met his gaze soberly.  "I'll think it over when you have
+gone," she said, softly.  "Now go."
+
+
+
+
+
+THE NEST EGG
+
+[Illustration: "The Nest Egg."]
+
+"Artfulness," said the night-watch-man, smoking placidly, "is a gift; but
+it don't pay always.  I've met some artful ones in my time--plenty of
+'em; but I can't truthfully say as 'ow any of them was the better for
+meeting me."
+
+He rose slowly from the packing-case on which he had been sitting and,
+stamping down the point of a rusty nail with his heel, resumed his seat,
+remarking that he had endured it for some time under the impression that
+it was only a splinter.
+
+"I've surprised more than one in my time," he continued, slowly.  "When I
+met one of these 'ere artful ones I used fust of all to pretend to be
+more stupid than wot I really am."
+
+He stopped and stared fixedly.
+
+"More stupid than I looked," he said.  He stopped again.
+
+"More stupid than wot they thought I looked," he said, speaking with
+marked deliberation.  And I'd let 'em go on and on until I thought I had
+'ad about enough, and then turn round on 'em.  Nobody ever got the better
+o' me except my wife, and that was only before we was married.  Two
+nights arterwards she found a fish-hook in my trouser-pocket, and arter
+that I could ha' left untold gold there--if I'd ha' had it.  It spoilt
+wot some people call the honey-moon, but it paid in the long run.
+
+One o' the worst things a man can do is to take up artfulness all of a
+sudden.  I never knew it to answer yet, and I can tell you of a case
+that'll prove my words true.
+
+It's some years ago now, and the chap it 'appened to was a young man, a
+shipmate o' mine, named Charlie Tagg.  Very steady young chap he was, too
+steady for most of 'em.  That's 'ow it was me and 'im got to be such
+pals.
+
+He'd been saving up for years to get married, and all the advice we could
+give 'im didn't 'ave any effect.  He saved up nearly every penny of 'is
+money and gave it to his gal to keep for 'im, and the time I'm speaking
+of she'd got seventy-two pounds of 'is and seventeen-and-six of 'er own
+to set up house-keeping with.
+
+Then a thing happened that I've known to 'appen to sailormen afore.  At
+Sydney 'e got silly on another gal, and started walking out with her, and
+afore he knew wot he was about he'd promised to marry 'er too.
+
+Sydney and London being a long way from each other was in 'is favour, but
+the thing that troubled 'im was 'ow to get that seventy-two pounds out of
+Emma Cook, 'is London gal, so as he could marry the other with it.  It
+worried 'im all the way home, and by the time we got into the London
+river 'is head was all in a maze with it.  Emma Cook 'ad got it all saved
+up in the bank, to take a little shop with when they got spliced, and 'ow
+to get it he could not think.
+
+He went straight off to Poplar, where she lived, as soon as the ship was
+berthed.  He walked all the way so as to 'ave more time for thinking, but
+wot with bumping into two old gentlemen with bad tempers, and being
+nearly run over by a cabman with a white 'orse and red whiskers, he got
+to the house without 'aving thought of anything.
+
+They was just finishing their tea as 'e got there, and they all seemed so
+pleased to see 'im that it made it worse than ever for 'im.  Mrs. Cook,
+who 'ad pretty near finished, gave 'im her own cup to drink out of, and
+said that she 'ad dreamt of 'im the night afore last, and old Cook said
+that he 'ad got so good-looking 'e shouldn't 'ave known him.
+
+"I should 'ave passed 'im in the street," he ses.  "I never see such an
+alteration."
+
+"They'll be a nice-looking couple," ses his wife, looking at a young
+chap, named George Smith, that 'ad been sitting next to Emma.
+
+Charlie Tagg filled 'is mouth with bread and butter, and wondered 'ow he
+was to begin.  He squeezed Emma's 'and just for the sake of keeping up
+appearances, and all the time 'e was thinking of the other gal waiting
+for 'im thousands o' miles away.
+
+"You've come 'ome just in the nick o' time," ses old Cook; "if you'd done
+it o' purpose you couldn't 'ave arranged it better."
+
+"Somebody's birthday?" ses Charlie, trying to smile.
+
+Old Cook shook his 'ead.  "Though mine is next Wednesday," he ses, "and
+thank you for thinking of it.  No; you're just in time for the biggest
+bargain in the chandlery line that anybody ever 'ad a chance of.  If you
+'adn't ha' come back we should have 'ad to ha' done it without you."
+
+"Eighty pounds," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Charlie.  "With the money
+Emma's got saved and your wages this trip you'll 'ave plenty.  You must
+come round arter tea and 'ave a look at it."
+
+"Little place not arf a mile from 'ere," ses old Cook.  "Properly worked
+up, the way Emma'll do it, it'll be a little fortune.  I wish I'd had a
+chance like it in my young time."
+
+He sat shaking his 'ead to think wot he'd lost, and Charlie Tagg sat
+staring at 'im and wondering wot he was to do.
+
+"My idea is for Charlie to go for a few more v'y'ges arter they're
+married while Emma works up the business," ses Mrs. Cook; "she'll be all
+right with young Bill and Sarah Ann to 'elp her and keep 'er company
+while he's away."
+
+"We'll see as she ain't lonely," ses George Smith, turning to Charlie.
+
+Charlie Tagg gave a bit of a cough and said it wanted considering.  He
+said it was no good doing things in a 'urry and then repenting of 'em all
+the rest of your life.  And 'e said he'd been given to understand that
+chandlery wasn't wot it 'ad been, and some of the cleverest people 'e
+knew thought that it would be worse before it was better.  By the time
+he'd finished they was all looking at 'im as though they couldn't believe
+their ears.
+
+"You just step round and 'ave a look at the place," ses old Cook; "if
+that don't make you alter your tune, call me a sinner."
+
+Charlie Tagg felt as though 'e could ha' called 'im a lot o' worse things
+than that, but he took up 'is hat and Mrs. Cook and Emma got their
+bonnets on and they went round.
+
+"I don't think much of it for eighty pounds," ses Charlie, beginning his
+artfulness as they came near a big shop, with plate-glass and a double
+front.
+
+"Eh?" ses old Cook, staring at 'im.  "Why, that ain't the place.  Why,
+you wouldn't get that for eight 'undred."
+
+"Well, I don't think much of it," ses Charlie; "if it's worse than that I
+can't look at it--I can't, indeed."
+
+"You ain't been drinking, Charlie?" ses old Cook, in a puzzled voice.
+
+"Certainly not," ses Charlie.
+
+He was pleased to see 'ow anxious they all looked, and when they did come
+to the shop 'e set up a laugh that old Cook said chilled the marrer in
+'is bones.  He stood looking in a 'elpless sort o' way at his wife and
+Emma, and then at last he ses, "There it is; and a fair bargain at the
+price."
+
+"I s'pose you ain't been drinking?" ses Charlie.
+
+"Wot's the matter with it?" ses Mrs. Cook flaring up.
+
+"Come inside and look at it," ses Emma, taking 'old of his arm.
+
+"Not me," ses Charlie, hanging back.  "Why, I wouldn't take it at a
+gift."
+
+He stood there on the kerbstone, and all they could do 'e wouldn't budge.
+He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and 'ad got a look about it
+he didn't like.  They walked back 'ome like a funeral procession, and
+Emma 'ad to keep saying "_H's!_" in w'ispers to 'er mother all the way.
+
+[Illustration: "He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and 'ad got
+a look about it he didn't like."]
+
+"I don't know wot Charlie does want, I'm sure," ses Mrs. Cook, taking off
+'er bonnet as soon as she got indoors and pitching it on the chair he was
+just going to set down on.
+
+"It's so awk'ard," ses old Cook, rubbing his 'cad.  "Fact is, Charlie, we
+pretty near gave 'em to understand as we'd buy it."
+
+"It's as good as settled," ses Mrs. Cook, trembling all over with temper.
+
+"They won't settle till they get the money," ses Charlie.  "You may make
+your mind easy about that."
+
+"Emma's drawn it all out of the bank ready," ses old Cook, eager like.
+
+Charlie felt 'ot and cold all over.  "I'd better take care of it," he
+ses, in a trembling voice.  "You might be robbed."
+
+"So might you be," ses Mrs. Cook.  "Don't you worry; it's in a safe
+place."
+
+"Sailormen are always being robbed," ses George Smith, who 'ad been
+helping young Bill with 'is sums while they 'ad gone to look at the shop.
+"There's more sailormen robbed than all the rest put together."
+
+"They won't rob Charlie," ses Mrs. Cook, pressing 'er lips together.
+"I'll take care o' that."
+
+Charlie tried to laugh, but 'e made such a queer noise that young Bill
+made a large blot on 'is exercise-book, and old Cook, wot was lighting
+his pipe, burnt 'is fingers through not looking wot 'e was doing.
+
+"You see," ses Charlie, "if I was robbed, which ain't at all likely, it
+'ud only be me losing my own money; but if you was robbed of it you'd
+never forgive yourselves."
+
+"I dessay I should get over it," ses Mrs. Cook, sniffing.  "I'd 'ave a
+try, at all events."
+
+Charlie started to laugh agin, and old Cook, who had struck another
+match, blew it out and waited till he'd finished.
+
+"The whole truth is," ses Charlie, looking round, "I've got something
+better to do with the money.  I've got a chance offered me that'll make
+me able to double it afore you know where you are."
+
+"Not afore I know where I am," ses Mrs. Cook, with a laugh that was worse
+than Charlie's.
+
+"The chance of a lifetime," ses Charlie, trying to keep 'is temper.  "I
+can't tell you wot it is, because I've promised to keep it secret for a
+time.  You'll be surprised when I do tell you."
+
+"If I wait till then till I'm surprised," ses Mrs. Cook, "I shall 'ave to
+wait a long time.  My advice to you is to take that shop and ha' done
+with it."
+
+Charlie sat there arguing all the evening, but it was no good, and the
+idea o' them people sitting there and refusing to let 'im have his own
+money pretty near sent 'im crazy.  It was all 'e could do to kiss Emma
+good-night, and 'e couldn't have 'elped slamming the front door if he'd
+been paid for it.  The only comfort he 'ad got left was the Sydney gal's
+photygraph, and he took that out and looked at it under nearly every
+lamp-post he passed.
+
+He went round the next night and 'ad an-other try to get 'is money, but
+it was no use; and all the good he done was to make Mrs. Cook in such a
+temper that she 'ad to go to bed before he 'ad arf finished.  It was no
+good talking to old Cook and Emma, because they daren't do anything
+without 'er, and it was no good calling things up the stairs to her
+because she didn't answer.  Three nights running Mrs. Cook went off to
+bed afore eight o'clock, for fear she should say something to 'im as
+she'd be sorry for arterwards; and for three nights Charlie made 'imself
+so disagreeable that Emma told 'im plain the sooner 'e went back to sea
+agin the better she should like it.  The only one who seemed to enjoy it
+was George Smith, and 'e used to bring bits out o' newspapers and read to
+'em, showing 'ow silly people was done out of their money.
+
+On the fourth night Charlie dropped it and made 'imself so amiable that
+Mrs. Cook stayed up and made 'im a Welsh rare-bit for 'is supper, and
+made 'im drink two glasses o' beer instead o' one, while old Cook sat and
+drank three glasses o' water just out of temper, and to show that 'e
+didn't mind.  When she started on the chandler's shop agin Charlie said
+he'd think it over, and when 'e went away Mrs. Cook called 'im her
+sailor-boy and wished 'im pleasant dreams.
+
+But Charlie Tagg 'ad got better things to do than to dream, and 'e sat up
+in bed arf the night thinking out a new plan he'd thought of to get that
+money.  When 'e did fall asleep at last 'e dreamt of taking a little farm
+in Australia and riding about on 'orseback with the Sydney gal watching
+his men at work.
+
+In the morning he went and hunted up a shipmate of 'is, a young feller
+named Jack Bates.  Jack was one o' these 'ere chaps, nobody's enemy but
+their own, as the saying is; a good-'arted, free-'anded chap as you could
+wish to see.  Everybody liked 'im, and the ship's cat loved 'im.  He'd
+ha' sold the shirt off 'is back to oblige a pal, and three times in one
+week he got 'is face scratched for trying to prevent 'usbands knocking
+their wives about.
+
+Charlie Tagg went to 'im because he was the only man 'e could trust, and
+for over arf an hour he was telling Jack Bates all 'is troubles, and at
+last, as a great favour, he let 'im see the Sydney gal's photygraph, and
+told him that all that pore gal's future 'appiness depended upon 'im.
+
+"I'll step round to-night and rob 'em of that seventy-two pounds," ses
+Jack; "it's your money, and you've a right to it."
+
+Charlie shook his 'ead.  "That wouldn't do," he ses; "besides, I don't
+know where they keep it.  No; I've got a better plan than that.  Come
+round to the Crooked Billet, so as we can talk it over in peace and
+quiet."
+
+He stood Jack three or four arf-pints afore 'e told 'im his plan, and
+Jack was so pleased with it that he wanted to start at once, but Charlie
+persuaded 'im to wait.
+
+"And don't you spare me, mind, out o' friendship," ses Charlie, "because
+the blacker you paint me the better I shall like it."
+
+"You trust me, mate," ses Jack Bates; "if I don't get that seventy-two
+pounds for you, you may call me a Dutchman.  Why, it's fair robbery, I
+call it, sticking to your money like that."
+
+They spent the rest o' the day together, and when evening came Charlie
+went off to the Cooks'.  Emma 'ad arf expected they was going to a
+theayter that night, but Charlie said he wasn't feeling the thing, and he
+sat there so quiet and miserable they didn't know wot to make of 'im.
+
+"'Ave you got any trouble on your mind, Charlie," ses Mrs. Cook, "or is
+it the tooth-ache?"
+
+"It ain't the toothache," ses Charlie.
+
+He sat there pulling a long face and staring at the floor, but all Mrs.
+Cook and Emma could do 'e wouldn't tell them wot was the matter with 'im.
+He said 'e didn't want to worry other people with 'is troubles; let
+everybody bear their own, that was 'is motto.  Even when George Smith
+offered to go to the theayter with Emma instead of 'im he didn't fire up,
+and, if it 'adn't ha' been for Mrs. Cook, George wouldn't ha' been sorry
+that 'e spoke.
+
+"Theayters ain't for me," ses Charlie, with a groan.  "I'm more likely to
+go to gaol, so far as I can see, than a theayter."
+
+Mrs. Cook and Emma both screamed and Sarah Ann did 'er first
+highstericks, and very well, too, considering that she 'ad only just
+turned fifteen.
+
+"Gaol!" ses old Cook, as soon as they 'ad quieted Sarah Ann with a bowl
+o' cold water that young Bill 'ad the presence o' mind to go and fetch.
+"Gaol!  What for?"
+
+"You wouldn't believe if I was to tell you."  ses Charlie, getting up to
+go, "and besides, I don't want any of you to think as 'ow I am worse than
+wot I am."
+
+He shook his 'cad at them sorrowful-like, and afore they could stop 'im
+he 'ad gone.  Old Cook shouted arter 'im, but it was no use, and the
+others was running into the scullery to fill the bowl agin for Emma.
+
+Mrs. Cook went round to 'is lodgings next morning, but found that 'e was
+out.  They began to fancy all sorts o' things then, but Charlie turned up
+agin that evening more miserable than ever.
+
+"I went round to see you this morning," ses Mrs. Cook, "but you wasn't at
+'ome."
+
+"I never am, 'ardly," ses Charlie.  "I can't be--it ain't safe."
+
+"Why not?" ses Mrs. Cook, fidgeting.
+
+"If I was to tell you, you'd lose your good opinion of me," ses Charlie.
+
+"It wouldn't be much to lose," ses Mrs. Cook, firing up.
+
+Charlie didn't answer 'er.  When he did speak he spoke to the old man,
+and he was so down-'arted that 'e gave 'im the chills a'most, He 'ardly
+took any notice of Emma, and, when Mrs. Cook spoke about the shop agin,
+said that chandlers' shops was for happy people, not for 'im.
+
+By the time they sat down to supper they was nearly all as miserable as
+Charlie 'imself.  From words he let drop they all seemed to 'ave the idea
+that the police was arter 'im, and Mrs. Cook was just asking 'im for wot
+she called the third and last time, but wot was more likely the hundred
+and third, wot he'd done, when there was a knock at the front door, so
+loud and so sudden that old Cook and young Bill both cut their mouths at
+the same time.
+
+"Anybody 'ere o' the name of Emma Cook?" ses a man's voice, when young
+Bill opened the door.
+
+"She's inside," ses the boy, and the next moment Jack Bates followed 'im
+into the room, and then fell back with a start as 'e saw Charlie Tagg.
+
+"Ho, 'ere you are, are you?" he ses, looking at 'im very black.
+"Wot's the matter?" ses Mrs. Cook, very sharp.
+
+"I didn't expect to 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you 'ere, my lad," ses
+Jack, still staring at Charlie, and twisting 'is face up into awful
+scowls.  "Which is Emma Cook?"
+
+"Miss Cook is my name," ses Emma, very sharp.  "Wot d'ye want?"
+
+"Very good," ses Jack Bates, looking at Charlie agin; "then p'r'aps
+you'll do me the kindness of telling that lie o' yours agin afore this
+young lady."
+
+"It's the truth," ses Charlie, looking down at 'is plate.
+
+"If somebody don't tell me wot all this is about in two minutes, I shall
+do something desprit," ses Mrs. Cook, getting up.
+
+"This 'ere--er--man," ses Jack Bates, pointing at Charlie, "owes me
+seventy-five pounds and won't pay.  When I ask 'im for it he ses a party
+he's keeping company with, by the name of Emma Cook, 'as got it, and he
+can't get it."
+
+"So she has," ses Charlie, without looking up.
+
+"Wot does 'e owe you the money for?" ses Mrs. Cook.
+
+"'Cos I lent it to 'im," ses Jack.
+
+"Lent it?  What for?" ses Mrs. Cook.
+
+"'Cos I was a fool, I s'pose," ses jack Bates; "a good-natured fool.
+Anyway, I'm sick and tired of asking for it, and if I don't get it
+to-night I'm going to see the police about it."
+
+He sat down on a chair with 'is hat cocked over one eye, and they all sat
+staring at 'im as though they didn't know wot to say next.
+
+"So this is wot you meant when you said you'd got the chance of a
+lifetime, is it?" ses Mrs. Cook to Charlie.  "This is wot you wanted it
+for, is it?  Wot did you borrow all that money for?"
+
+"Spend," ses Charlie, in a sulky voice.
+
+"Spend!" ses Mrs. Cook, with a scream; "wot in?"
+
+"Drink and cards mostly," ses Jack Bates, remembering wot Charlie 'ad
+told 'im about blackening 'is character.
+
+You might ha' heard a pin drop a'most, and Charlie sat there without
+saying a word.
+
+"Charlie's been led away," ses Mrs. Cook, looking 'ard at Jack Bates.  "I
+s'pose you lent 'im the money to win it back from 'im at cards, didn't
+you?"
+
+"And gave 'im too much licker fust," ses old Cook.  "I've 'eard of your
+kind.  If Charlie takes my advice 'e won't pay you a farthing.  I should
+let you do your worst if I was 'im; that's wot I should do.  You've got a
+low face; a nasty, ugly, low face."
+
+"One o' the worst I ever see," ses Mrs. Cook.  "It looks as though it
+might ha' been cut out o' the Police News."
+
+"'Owever could you ha' trusted a man with a face like that, Charlie?" ses
+old Cook.  "Come away from 'im, Bill; I don't like such a chap in the
+room."
+
+Jack Bates began to feel very awk'ard.  They was all glaring at 'im as
+though they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such treatment.  And, as
+a matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face.
+
+"You go out o' that door," ses old Cook, pointing to it.  "Go and do your
+worst.  You won't get any money 'ere."
+
+"Stop a minute," ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ran
+upstairs.  Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in the
+bedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh and
+looking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt.
+
+"How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?" she ses.
+
+Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets took out
+about a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given 'im for
+I O U's.  Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel on the
+table.
+
+"There's your money," she ses; "take it and go."
+
+Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.
+
+"There's seventy-two pounds there," ses Emma, who was very pale; "and
+'ere's a ring you can have to 'elp make up the rest."  And she drew
+Charlie's ring off and throwed it on the table.  "I've done with 'im for
+good," she ses, with a look at 'er mother.
+
+Jack Bates took up the money and the ring and stood there looking at 'er
+and trying to think wot to say.  He'd always been uncommon partial to the
+sex, and it did seem 'ard to stand there and take all that on account of
+Charlie Tagg.
+
+"I only wanted my own," he ses, at last, shuffling about the floor.
+
+"Well, you've got it," ses Mrs. Cook, "and now you can go."
+
+"You're pi'soning the air of my front parlour," ses old Cook, opening the
+winder a little at the top.
+
+"P'r'aps I ain't so bad as you think I am," ses Jack Bates, still looking
+at Emma, and with that 'e walked over to Charlie and dumped down the
+money on the table in front of 'im.  "Take it," he ses, "and don't borrow
+any more.  I make you a free gift of it.  P'r'aps my 'art ain't as black
+as my face," he ses, turning to Mrs. Cook.
+
+They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but old Cook
+smiled at 'im and put the winder up agin.  And Charlie Tagg sat there arf
+mad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack Bates without any
+salt, as the saying is.
+
+"I--I can't take it," he ses at last, with a stammer.
+
+"Can't take it?  Why not?" ses old Cook, staring.  "This gentleman 'as
+given it to you."  "A free gift," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jack
+very sweet.
+
+"I can't take it," ses Charlie, winking at Jack to take the money up and
+give it to 'im quiet, as arranged.  "I 'ave my pride."
+
+"So 'ave I," ses Jack. "Are you going to take it?"
+
+Charlie gave another look. "No," he ses, "I cant take a favour.  I
+borrowed the money and I'll pay it back.
+
+"Very good," ses Jack, taking it up. "It's my money, ain't it?"
+
+"Yes," ses Charlie, taking no notice of Mrs. Cook and 'er husband, wot
+was both talking to 'im at once, and trying to persuade 'im to alter his
+mind.
+
+"Then I give it to Miss Emma Cook," ses Jack Bates, putting it into her
+hands.  "Good-night everybody and good luck."
+
+He slammed the front door behind 'im and they 'eard 'im go off down the
+road as if 'e was going for fire-engines.  Charlie sat there for a moment
+struck all of a heap, and then 'e jumped up and dashed arter 'im.  He
+just saw 'im disappearing round a corner, and he didn't see 'im agin for
+a couple o' year arterwards, by which time the Sydney gal had 'ad three
+or four young men arter 'im, and Emma, who 'ad changed her name to Smith,
+was doing one o' the best businesses in the chandlery line in Poplar.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE
+
+[Illustration: "The Constable's Move."]
+
+Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched
+on the fender.  His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the
+table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her
+half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
+
+"Come away, I tell you," he called.  "D'ye hear?  Come away.  You'll be
+locked up if you don't."
+
+He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his
+mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as
+she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture
+which was being carried in next door.
+
+"Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit.  "You
+mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law."
+
+Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds,
+stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with
+bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal
+supervision of Police-Constable Evans.
+
+"They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit,
+peering from the depths of the room.
+
+"They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up
+in the van."
+
+Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly.  "Did you throw all
+them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded.
+
+"He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife.  "I
+'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things."
+
+"That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr.
+Grummit, "sneaking other people's property.  I didn't tell you to throw
+good 'uns over, did I?  Wot d'ye mean by it?"
+
+Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal
+entrance of the piano.  The carman set it tenderly on the narrow
+footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and
+Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords.
+
+"Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got
+fingers like carrots."
+
+"It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in
+it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!--
+that's what I can't get over.  To come and live next door to a man wot
+has been fined twice, and both times wrong.  Why, for two pins I'd go in
+and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it.  He won't live 'ere long,
+you take my word for it."
+
+"Why not?" inquired his wife.
+
+"Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit.  "Why?  Why, becos I'll make the place too
+'ot to hold him.  Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im
+a-coming and living next door to me?"
+
+For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head
+worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad.  The day after
+the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he
+recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled
+backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity.  They sometimes made
+as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened
+to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying
+his bootlace.  Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans,
+who had come out to admire the sunset.
+
+"I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously.
+
+"You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously.
+
+"Me?  Nonsense," said the other, easily.  "I was having tea in the
+parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his
+young lady."
+
+"Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list
+of witnesses for an alibi.
+
+"It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable.
+"I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it.
+It'll hold enough water for your wants."
+
+Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting
+impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off
+to discuss affairs with his intimates at the _Bricklayers' Arms_.  The
+company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled,
+were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a
+desirable end was to be attained.
+
+"Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly
+labourer.  "The police don't like being laughed at."
+
+"'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity.
+
+"There's plenty o' ways," said the old man.
+
+"I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back,
+I know."
+
+Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced
+by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence.  His back still ached,
+but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could
+imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain
+risk of hard labour for himself.
+
+He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins--to the
+secret disappointment of Mr. Evans--remained untouched in his yard.  For
+the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed
+it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him.
+
+"I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in
+one night.
+
+Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was
+looking almost cheerful.
+
+"He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper
+mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited."
+
+"Wot of it?" inquired his wife.  "You wasn't think of asking him in, was
+you?"
+
+Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully.  "If a copper comes in
+without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it.  Now
+d'ye see?"
+
+"But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit.
+
+Mr. Grummit winked.  "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he
+retorted.  "Where's the copper-stick?"
+
+"Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?"
+
+"You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks
+with his forefinger.  "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the
+copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and
+things like that.  Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about
+that part.  Evans comes bursting in to save your life--I'll leave the
+door on the latch--and there you are.  He's sure to get into trouble for
+it.  Bill said so.  He's made a study o' that sort o' thing."
+
+Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to
+lose patience.  At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched
+the weapon in question.
+
+"And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs
+to bed.  "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?"
+
+"You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably.
+
+Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his
+wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and
+in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit
+things that had been rankling in her mind for some months.  She raked up
+misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with
+that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her
+mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister.  The hand
+that held the copper-stick itched.
+
+"Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her.
+
+Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly
+remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with
+extraordinary fury.  The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts
+of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband.
+
+[Illustration: "Mr. Grummit, suddenly remembering himself, stopped short
+and attacked the bed with extraordinary fury."]
+
+"I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath.
+
+"Mur--der!" wailed his wife.  "Help!  Help!"
+
+Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack;
+Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary
+relief in moans.
+
+"Is--he----deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?"
+
+He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied
+scream.  A loud knocking sounded on the wall.
+
+"Hel--lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit.
+
+"Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable.  "Why don't you keep
+that baby quiet?  We can't get a wink of sleep."
+
+Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his
+wife.
+
+"He--he's afraid--to come in," he gasped.  "Keep it up, old gal."
+
+He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart
+had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as
+hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang.
+
+"Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit.  "Now!"
+
+His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung
+open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on
+the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr.
+Grummit sprawling.
+
+"Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose.
+"Take that!"
+
+Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging
+at her brother, endeavoured to explain.  It was not, however, until Mr.
+Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise
+that she could make herself heard.
+
+"Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously.  "Joke?"
+
+Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained.
+
+Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to
+mirth.  He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured
+Grummit only added to his distress.
+
+"Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes.  "Don't
+look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it."
+
+"Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him.
+
+"There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the
+other.  "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done.  So long."
+
+He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the
+window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside.
+Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he
+had to say and laugh afterwards.  Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and
+in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night.  Even the
+sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed
+failed to move him.
+
+"The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly.
+
+"Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor."
+
+Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes
+and made up a bed in a corner of the room.  In a short time she was fast
+asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further
+impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door.
+
+He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work.  The
+constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit
+felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass.
+
+"I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully.  "My word!  Good
+gracious!"
+
+"Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short.
+
+The constable stared at him.  "She has been knocking you about," he
+gasped.  "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then!  I thought it
+sounded loud.  Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up?
+I should be pleased to take her."
+
+Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion.  "Wot would it cost if I
+set about you?" he demanded, huskily.
+
+"Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three."
+
+Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously.  The constable,
+lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile.
+"That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly.
+
+"Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence.
+
+"It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't.  Why not go and
+ask your wife's brother to oblige you?"
+
+He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a
+frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such
+acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer
+to make them laugh the other side of their face.  The rest of the day he
+spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious
+inquiries of his fellow-workmen.
+
+He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to
+give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed
+on his spirits all day.  To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door,
+which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "_The Last Rose of Summer_"
+note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr.
+Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac.
+
+"Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up.  "Your missus gave 'em
+to us this morning.  A little gravel on top, and there you are."
+
+He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring
+in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub
+and lit his pipe.  His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try
+and cultivate a garden.
+
+The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back
+window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and
+calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground.  He could
+not sleep for thinking of them.
+
+He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that
+Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his
+work.  The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted,
+and he whistled as he walked.  The sight of flowers in front windows
+added to his good humour.
+
+He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but
+some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers'
+firms instead.  He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still
+disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other
+side of Tunwich.  By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight.
+
+The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness.  The
+clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying
+away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had
+been trying to avoid.
+
+"Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply.  "Here, I want a word with you."
+
+Mr. Grummit quailed.  "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect.
+
+"What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly.
+
+"Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him.
+"Flowers?  What flowers?"
+
+"You know well enough," retorted the constable.  "You got over my fence
+last night and smashed all my flowers down."
+
+"You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit.  "Why, I love
+flowers.  You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot
+you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?"
+
+"You know all about it," said the constable, choking.  "I shall take out
+a summons against you for it."
+
+"Ho!" said Mr. Grummit.  "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?"
+
+"Never you mind the time," said the other.
+
+"Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit.
+
+"My wife's brother--the one you're so fond of--slept in my 'ouse last
+night.  He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it,
+it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence."
+
+"If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great
+deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the
+biggest hiding you've ever had in your life."
+
+"If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf
+murder you."
+
+The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part.
+
+"If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the
+constable.
+
+"If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod,"
+sighed Mr. Grummit.
+
+"I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I
+wouldn't."
+
+"Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with
+eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul.  I'll take my solemn
+davit I wouldn't."
+
+"When I think o' my garden--" began the constable.  With a sudden
+movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the
+coat, began to hustle him along the road.  In the twinkling of an eye
+they had closed.
+
+Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit,
+forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him.  The
+constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn
+and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a
+fortnight at least.  He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet,
+tried mechanically to punch it into shape.  He stuck the battered relic
+on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back--awed, despite himself.
+
+"It was a fair fight," he stammered.
+
+The constable waved him away.  "Get out o' my sight before I change my
+mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll
+be the worse for you."
+
+"Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other.  He took another look at
+his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home.
+The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages.
+
+They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the
+lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a
+prisoner, would satisfy the inspector.  A button which was hanging by a
+thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and
+placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear.
+
+He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the
+direction of the noise.  It became louder and more imperative, and cries
+of "Police!" became distinctly audible.  He quickened into a run, and
+turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a
+large house.  Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards
+them.  The constable arrived out of breath.
+
+"Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically.
+
+Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the
+fence.
+
+"They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the
+householder.  "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and
+the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light.  "Are
+you hurt?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly.  To gain
+time he blew a loud call on his whistle.
+
+"The rascals!" continued the other.  "I think I should know the big chap
+with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me."
+
+Mr. Evans blew his whistle again--thoughtfully.  The opportunity seemed
+too good to lose.
+
+"Did they get anything?" he inquired.
+
+"Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly.  "I was disturbed just in
+time."
+
+The constable gave a slight gulp.  "I saw the three running by the side
+of the road," he said, slowly.  "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I
+collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats.  They had me
+down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and
+when I came to my senses again they had gone."
+
+He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of
+sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head.  A sergeant and a constable,
+both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them.
+
+"Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as
+Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story.
+"You've done your best; I can see that."
+
+Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped
+painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make
+good their escape.  If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was
+at least equal to that of three burglars.
+
+He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed,
+was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two.  He was
+off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column
+to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself
+from the public gaze for the whole of that time.
+
+To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have
+repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying.  The
+constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed.  Once Mr.
+Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour
+window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind.  It
+was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight
+of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might
+escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before
+the latter was aware of his presence.
+
+"Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones.
+
+"Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air.
+
+"Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl.  "I don't
+believe you ever saw a burglar."
+
+Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully.  "You'd better run
+indoors, my good man," he said, slowly.
+
+"Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr.
+Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it.  "Why, I gave you that
+black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I----"
+
+"You've been drinking," said the other, severely.
+
+"You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously.
+
+Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily.  "I don't know what you're
+talking about," he said, calmly.
+
+Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood.
+
+"Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars,"
+continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure.
+Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices."
+
+Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards
+and breathed heavily.
+
+"About your height, too, he was," mused the constable.  "I hope for your
+sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just
+now."
+
+Mr. Grummit shook his head.  "Not a word," he faltered.
+
+"That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans.  "I shouldn't like to be hard
+on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer."
+
+Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to
+a feeble "Oh!"
+
+"No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly.  "It ain't good enough
+for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning.  A sergeant can't
+live in a common place like this."
+
+Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again.  "A--
+a sergeant?" he stammered.
+
+Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud.  "For my bravery
+with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly.  "I
+might have waited years if it hadn't been for them."
+
+He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without
+any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house.
+
+
+
+
+
+BOB'S REDEMPTION
+
+[Illustration: "Bob's Redemption."]
+
+"GRATITOODE!" said the night-watchman, with a hard laugh.  "_Hmf!_  Don't
+talk to me about gratitoode; I've seen too much of it.  If people wot
+I've helped in my time 'ad only done arf their dooty--arf, mind you--I
+should be riding in my carriage."
+
+Forgetful of the limitations of soap-boxes he attempted to illustrate his
+remark by lolling, and nearly went over backwards.  Recovering himself by
+an effort he gazed sternly across the river and smoked fiercely.  It was
+evident that he was brooding over an ill-used past.
+
+'Arry Thomson was one of them, he said, at last.  For over six months I
+wrote all 'is love-letters for him, 'e being an iggernerant sort of man
+and only being able to do the kisses at the end, which he always insisted
+on doing 'imself: being jealous.  Only three weeks arter he was married
+'e come up to where I was standing one day and set about me without
+saying a word.  I was a single man at the time and I didn't understand
+it.  My idea was that he 'ad gone mad, and, being pretty artful and
+always 'aving a horror of mad people, I let 'im chase me into a
+police-station.  Leastways, I would ha' let 'im, but he didn't come,
+and I all but got fourteen days for being drunk and disorderly.
+
+Then there was Bill Clark.  He 'ad been keeping comp'ny with a gal and
+got tired of it, and to oblige 'im I went to her and told 'er he was a
+married man with five children.  Bill was as pleased as Punch at fust,
+but as soon as she took up with another chap he came round to see me and
+said as I'd ruined his life.  We 'ad words about it--naturally--and I did
+ruin it then to the extent of a couple o' ribs.  I went to see 'im in the
+horsepittle--place I've always been fond of--and the langwidge he used to
+me was so bad that they sent for the Sister to 'ear it.
+
+That's on'y two out of dozens I could name.  Arf the unpleasantnesses in
+my life 'ave come out of doing kindnesses to people, and all the
+gratitoode I've 'ad for it I could put in a pint-pot with a pint o' beer
+already in it.
+
+The only case o' real gratitoode I ever heard of 'appened to a shipmate
+o' mine--a young chap named Bob Evans.  Coming home from Auckland in a
+barque called the _Dragon Fly_ he fell overboard, and another chap named
+George Crofts, one o' the best swimmers I ever knew, went overboard arter
+'im and saved his life.
+
+We was hardly moving at the time, and the sea was like a duck pond, but
+to 'ear Bob Evans talk you'd ha' thought that George Crofts was the
+bravest-'arted chap that ever lived.  He 'adn't liked him afore, same as
+the rest of us, George being a sly, mean sort o' chap; but arter George
+'ad saved his life 'e couldn't praise 'im enough.  He said that so long
+as he 'ad a crust George should share it, and wotever George asked 'im he
+should have.
+
+The unfortnit part of it was that George took 'im at his word, and all
+the rest of the v'y'ge he acted as though Bob belonged to 'im, and by the
+time we got into the London river Bob couldn't call his soul 'is own.  He
+used to take a room when he was ashore and live very steady, as 'e was
+saving up to get married, and as soon as he found that out George invited
+'imself to stay with him.
+
+"It won't cost you a bit more," he ses, "not if you work it properly."
+
+Bob didn't work it properly, but George having saved his life, and never
+letting 'im forget it, he didn't like to tell him so.  He thought he'd
+let 'im see gradual that he'd got to be careful because of 'is gal, and
+the fust evening they was ashore 'e took 'im along with 'im there to tea.
+
+Gerty Mitchell--that was the gal's name--'adn't heard of Bob's accident,
+and when she did she gave a little scream, and putting 'er arms round his
+neck, began to kiss 'im right in front of George and her mother.
+
+"You ought to give him one too," ses Mrs. Mitchell, pointing to George.
+
+George wiped 'is mouth on the back of his 'and, but Gerty pretended not
+to 'ear.
+
+"Fancy if you'd been drownded!" she ses, hugging Bob agin.
+
+"He was pretty near," ses George, shaking his 'ead.  "I'm a pore swimmer,
+but I made up my mind either to save 'im or else go down to a watery
+grave myself."
+
+He wiped his mouth on the back of his 'and agin, but all the notice Gerty
+took of it was to send her young brother Ted out for some beer.  Then
+they all 'ad supper together, and Mrs. Mitchell drank good luck to George
+in a glass o' beer, and said she 'oped that 'er own boy would grow up
+like him.  "Let 'im grow up a good and brave man, that's all I ask," she
+ses.  "I don't care about 'is looks."
+
+"He might have both," ses George, sharp-like.  "Why not?"
+
+Mrs. Mitchell said she supposed he might, and then she cuffed young Ted's
+ears for making a noise while 'e was eating, and then cuffed 'im agin for
+saying that he'd finished 'is supper five minutes ago.
+
+George and Bob walked 'ome together, and all the way there George said
+wot a pretty gal Gerty was and 'ow lucky it was for Bob that he 'adn't
+been drownded.  He went round to tea with 'im the next day to Mrs.
+Mitchell's, and arter tea, when Bob and Gerty said they was going out to
+spend the evening together, got 'imself asked too.
+
+They took a tram-car and went to a music-hall, and Bob paid for the three
+of 'em.  George never seemed to think of putting his 'and in his pocket,
+and even arter the music-hall, when they all went into a shop and 'ad
+stewed eels, he let Bob pay.
+
+As I said afore, Bob Evans was chock-full of gratefulness, and it seemed
+only fair that he shouldn't grumble at spending a little over the man wot
+'ad risked 'is life to save his; but wot with keeping George at his room,
+and paying for 'im every time they went out, he was spending a lot more
+money than 'e could afford.
+
+"You're on'y young once, Bob," George said to him when 'e made a remark
+one arternoon as to the fast way his money was going, "and if it hadn't
+ha' been for me you'd never 'ave lived to grow old."
+
+Wot with spending the money and always 'aving George with them when they
+went out, it wasn't long afore Bob and Gerty 'ad a quarrel.  "I don't
+like a pore-spirited man," she ses.  "Two's company and three's none,
+and, besides, why can't he pay for 'imself?  He's big enough.  Why should
+you spend your money on 'im?  He never pays a farthing."
+
+Bob explained that he couldn't say anything because 'e owed his life to
+George, but 'e might as well 'ave talked to a lamp-post.  The more he
+argued the more angry Gerty got, and at last she ses, "Two's company and
+three's none, and if you and me can't go out without George Crofts, then
+me and 'im 'll go out with-out you."
+
+She was as good as her word, too, and the next night, while Bob 'ad gone
+out to get some 'bacca, she went off alone with George.  It was ten
+o'clock afore they came back agin, and Gerty's eyes were all shining and
+'er cheeks as pink as roses.  She shut 'er mother up like a concertina
+the moment she began to find fault with 'er, and at supper she sat next
+to George and laughed at everything 'e said.
+
+George and Bob walked all the way 'ome arter supper without saying a
+word, but arter they got to their room George took a side-look at Bob,
+and then he ses, suddenlike, "Look 'ere!  I saved your life, didn't I?"
+
+"You did," ses Bob, "and I thank you for it."
+
+"I saved your life," ses George agin, very solemn.  "If it hadn't ha'
+been for me you couldn't ha' married anybody."
+
+"That's true," ses Bob.
+
+"Me and Gerty 'ave been having a talk," ses George, bending down to undo
+his boots.  "We've been getting on very well together; you can't 'elp
+your feelings, and the long and the short of it is, the pore gal has
+fallen in love with me."
+
+Bob didn't say a word.
+
+"If you look at it this way it's fair enough," ses George.  "I gave you
+your life and you give me your gal.  We're quits now.  You don't owe me
+anything and I don't owe you anything.  That's the way Gerty puts it, and
+she told me to tell you so."
+
+"If--if she don't want me I'm agreeable," ses Bob, in a choking voice.
+"We'll call it quits, and next time I tumble overboard I 'ope you won't
+be handy."
+
+He took Gerty's photygraph out of 'is box and handed it to George.
+"You've got more right to it now than wot I 'ave," he ses.  "I shan't go
+round there any more; I shall look out for a ship to-morrow."
+
+George Crofts said that perhaps it was the best thing he could do, and 'e
+asked 'im in a offhand sort o' way 'ow long the room was paid up for.
+
+Mrs. Mitchell 'ad a few words to say about it next day, but Gerty told
+'er to save 'er breath for walking upstairs.  The on'y thing that George
+didn't like when they went out was that young Ted was with them, but
+Gerty said she preferred it till she knew 'im better; and she 'ad so much
+to say about his noble behaviour in saving life that George gave way.
+They went out looking at the shops, George thinking that that was the
+cheapest way of spending an evening, and they were as happy as possible
+till Gerty saw a brooch she liked so much in a window that he couldn't
+get 'er away.
+
+"It is a beauty," she ses.  "I don't know when I've seen a brooch I liked
+better.  Look here!  Let's all guess the price and then go in and see
+who's right."
+
+They 'ad their guesses, and then they went in and asked, and as soon as
+Gerty found that it was only three-and-sixpence she began to feel in her
+pocket for 'er purse, just like your wife does when you go out with 'er,
+knowing all the time that it's on the mantelpiece with twopence-ha'penny
+and a cough lozenge in it.
+
+"I must ha' left it at 'ome," she ses, looking at George.
+
+"Just wot I've done," ses George, arter patting 'is pockets.
+
+Gerty bit 'er lips and, for a minute or two, be civil to George she could
+not.  Then she gave a little smile and took 'is arm agin, and they walked
+on talking and laughing till she turned round of a sudden and asked a big
+chap as was passing wot 'e was shoving 'er for.
+
+"Shoving you?" ses he.  "Wot do you think I want to shove you for?"
+
+"Don't you talk to me," ses Gerty, firing up.  "George, make 'im beg my
+pardon."
+
+"You ought to be more careful," ses George, in a gentle sort o' way.
+
+"Make 'im beg my pardon," ses Gerty, stamping 'er foot; "if he don't,
+knock 'im down."
+
+"Yes, knock 'im down," ses the big man, taking hold o' George's cap and
+rumpling his 'air.
+
+Pore George, who was never much good with his fists, hit 'im in the
+chest, and the next moment he was on 'is back in the middle o' the road
+wondering wot had 'appened to 'im.  By the time 'e got up the other man
+was arf a mile away; and young Ted stepped up and wiped 'im down with a
+pocket-'andkerchief while Gerty explained to 'im 'ow she saw 'im slip on
+a piece o' banana peel.
+
+"It's 'ard lines," she ses; "but never mind, you frightened 'im away,
+and I don't wonder at it.  You do look terrible when you're angry,
+George; I didn't know you."
+
+She praised 'im all the way 'ome, and if it 'adn't been for his mouth and
+nose George would 'ave enjoyed it more than 'e did.  She told 'er mother
+how 'e had flown at a big man wot 'ad insulted her, and Mrs. Mitchell
+shook her 'ead at 'im and said his bold spirit would lead 'im into
+trouble afore he 'ad done.
+
+They didn't seem to be able to make enough of 'im, and next day when he
+went round Gerty was so upset at the sight of 'is bruises that he thought
+she was going to cry.  When he had 'ad his tea she gave 'im a cigar she
+had bought for 'im herself, and when he 'ad finished smoking it she
+smiled at him, and said that she was going to take 'im out for a pleasant
+evening to try and make up to 'im for wot he 'ad suffered for 'er.
+
+"We're all going to stand treat to each other," she ses.  "Bob always
+would insist on paying for everything, but I like to feel a bit
+independent.  Give and take--that's the way I like to do things."
+
+"There's nothing like being independent," ses George.  "Bob ought to ha'
+known that."
+
+"I'm sure it's the best plan," ses Gerty.  "Now, get your 'at on.  We're
+going to a theayter, and Ted shall pay the 'bus fares."
+
+George wanted to ask about the theayter, but 'e didn't like to, and arter
+Gerty was dressed they went out and Ted paid the 'bus fares like a man.
+
+"Here you are," ses Gerty, as the 'bus stopped outside the theayter.
+"Hurry up and get the tickets, George; ask for three upper circles."
+
+She bustled George up to the pay place, and as soon as she 'ad picked out
+the seats she grabbed 'old of the tickets and told George to make haste.
+
+"Twelve shillings it is," ses the man, as George put down arf a crown.
+
+"Twelve?" ses George, beginning to stammer.  "Twelve?  Twelve?  Twel--?"
+
+"Twelve shillings," ses the man; "three upper circles you've 'ad."
+
+George was going to fetch Gerty back and 'ave cheaper seats, but she 'ad
+gone inside with young Ted, and at last, arter making an awful fuss, he
+paid the rest o' the money and rushed in arter her, arf crazy at the idea
+o' spending so much money.
+
+"Make 'aste," ses Gerty, afore he could say anything; "the band 'as just
+begun."
+
+She started running upstairs, and she was so excited that, when they got
+their seats and George started complaining about the price, she didn't
+pay any attention to wot he was saying, but kept pointing out ladies'
+dresses to 'im in w'ispers and wondering wot they 'ad paid for them.
+George gave it up at last, and then he sat wondering whether he 'ad done
+right arter all in taking Bob's gal away from him.
+
+Gerty enjoyed it very much, but when the curtain came down after the
+first act she leaned back in her chair and looked up at George and said
+she felt faint and thought she'd like to 'ave an ice-cream.  "And you
+'ave one too, dear," she ses, when young Ted 'ad got up and beckoned to
+the gal, "and Ted 'ud like one too, I'm sure."
+
+She put her 'ead on George's shoulder and looked up at 'im.  Then she put
+her 'and on his and stroked it, and George, reckoning that arter all
+ice-creams were on'y a ha'penny or at the most a penny each, altered 'is
+mind about not spending any more money and ordered three.
+
+The way he carried on when the gal said they was three shillings was
+alarming.  At fust 'e thought she was 'aving a joke with 'im, and it took
+another gal and the fireman and an old gentleman wot was sitting behind
+'im to persuade 'im different.  He was so upset that 'e couldn't eat his
+arter paying for it, and Ted and Gerty had to finish it for 'im.
+
+"They're expensive, but they're worth the money," ses Gerty.  "You are
+good to me, George.  I could go on eating 'em all night, but you mustn't
+fling your money away like this always."
+
+"I'll see to that," ses George, very bitter.
+
+"I thought we was going to stand treat to each other?  That was the idea,
+I understood."
+
+"So we are," ses Gerty.  "Ted stood the 'bus fares, didn't he?"
+
+"He did," ses George, "wot there was of 'em; but wot about you?"
+
+"Me?" ses Gerty, drawing her 'ead back and staring at 'im.  "Why, 'ave
+you forgot that cigar already, George?"
+
+George opened 'is mouth, but 'e couldn't speak a word.  He sat looking at
+'er and making a gasping noise in 'is throat, and fortunately just as 'e
+got 'is voice back the curtain went up agin, and everybody said,
+"_H'sh!_"
+
+He couldn't enjoy the play at all, 'e was so upset, and he began to see
+more than ever 'ow wrong he 'ad been in taking Bob's gal away from 'im.
+He walked downstairs into the street like a man in a dream, with Gerty
+sticking to 'is arm and young Ted treading on 'is heels behind.
+
+"Now, you mustn't waste any more money, George," ses Gerty, when they got
+outside.  "We'll walk 'ome."
+
+George 'ad got arf a mind to say something about a 'bus, but he
+remembered in time that very likely young Ted hadn't got any more money.
+Then Gerty said she knew a short cut, and she took them, walking along
+little, dark, narrow streets and places, until at last, just as George
+thought they must be pretty near 'ome, she began to dab her eyes with 'er
+pocket-'andkerchief and say she'd lost 'er way.
+
+"You two go 'ome and leave me," she ses, arf crying.  "I can't walk
+another step."
+
+"Where are we?" ses George, looking round.
+
+"I don't know," ses Gerty.  "I couldn't tell you if you paid me.  I must
+'ave taken a wrong turning.  Oh, hurrah!  Here's a cab!"
+
+Afore George could stop 'er she held up 'er umbrella, and a 'ansom cab,
+with bells on its horse, crossed the road and pulled up in front of 'em.
+Ted nipped in first and Gerty followed 'im.
+
+"Tell 'im the address, dear, and make 'aste and get in," ses Gerty.
+
+George told the cabman, and then he got in and sat on Ted's knee, partly
+on Gerty's umbrella, and mostly on nothing.
+
+"You are good to me, George," ses Gerty, touching the back of 'is neck
+with the brim of her hat.  "It ain't often I get a ride in a cab.  All
+the time I was keeping company with Bob we never 'ad one once.  I only
+wish I'd got the money to pay for it."
+
+George, who was going to ask a question, stopped 'imself, and then he
+kept striking matches and trying to read all about cab fares on a bill in
+front of 'im.
+
+"'Ow are we to know 'ow many miles it is?" he ses, at last.
+
+"I don't know," ses Gerty; "leave it to the cabman.  It's his bisness,
+ain't it?  And if 'e don't know he must suffer for it."
+
+There was hardly a soul in Gerty's road when they got there, but afore
+George 'ad settled with the cabman there was a policeman moving the crowd
+on and arf the winders in the road up.  By the time George had paid 'im
+and the cabman 'ad told him wot 'e looked like, Gerty and Ted 'ad
+disappeared indoors, all the lights was out, and, in a state o' mind that
+won't bear thinking of, George walked 'ome to his lodging.
+
+[Illustration: "Afore George had settled with the cabman, there was a
+policeman moving the crowd on."]
+
+Bob was asleep when he got there, but 'e woke 'im up and told 'im about
+it, and then arter a time he said that he thought Bob ought to pay arf
+because he 'ad saved 'is life.
+
+"Cert'nly not," ses Bob.  "We're quits now; that was the arrangement.
+I only wish it was me spending the money on her; I shouldn't grumble."
+
+George didn't get a wink o' sleep all night for thinking of the money he
+'ad spent, and next day when he went round he 'ad almost made up 'is mind
+to tell Bob that if 'e liked to pay up the money he could 'ave Gerty
+back; but she looked so pretty, and praised 'im up so much for 'is
+generosity, that he began to think better of it.  One thing 'e was
+determined on, and that was never to spend money like that agin for fifty
+Gertys.
+
+There was a very sensible man there that evening that George liked very
+much.  His name was Uncle Joe, and when Gerty was praising George to 'is
+face for the money he 'ad been spending, Uncle Joe, instead o' looking
+pleased, shook his 'ead over it.
+
+"Young people will be young people, I know," he ses, "but still I don't
+approve of extravagance.  Bob Evans would never 'ave spent all that money
+over you."
+
+"Bob Evans ain't everybody," ses Mrs. Mitchell, standing up for Gerty.
+
+"He was steady, anyway," ses Uncle Joe.  "Besides, Gerty ought not to ha'
+let Mr. Crofts spend his money like that.  She could ha' prevented it if
+she'd ha' put 'er foot down and insisted on it."
+
+He was so solemn about it that everybody began to feel a bit upset, and
+Gerty borrowed Ted's pocket-'andkerchief, and then wiped 'er eyes on the
+cuff of her dress instead.
+
+"Well, well," ses Uncle Joe; "I didn't mean to be 'ard, but don't do it
+no more.  You are young people, and can't afford it."
+
+"We must 'ave a little pleasure sometimes," ses Gerty.
+
+"Yes, I know," ses Uncle Joe; "but there's moderation in everything.
+Look 'ere, it's time somebody paid for Mr. Crofts.  To-morrow's Saturday,
+and, if you like, I'll take you all to the Crystal Palace."
+
+Gerty jumped up off of 'er chair and kissed 'im, while Mrs. Mitchell said
+she knew 'is bark was worse than 'is bite, and asked 'im who was wasting
+his money now?
+
+"You meet me at London Bridge Station at two o'clock," ses Uncle Joe,
+getting up to go.  "It ain't extravagance for a man as can afford it."
+
+He shook 'ands with George Crofts and went, and, arter George 'ad stayed
+long enough to hear a lot o' things about Uncle Joe which made 'im think
+they'd get on very well together, he went off too.
+
+They all turned up very early the next arternoon, and Gerty was dressed
+so nice that George couldn't take his eyes off of her.  Besides her there
+was Mrs. Mitchell and Ted and a friend of 'is named Charlie Smith.
+
+They waited some time, but Uncle Joe didn't turn up, and they all got
+looking at the clock and talking about it, and 'oping he wouldn't make
+'em miss the train.
+
+"Here he comes!" ses Ted, at last.
+
+Uncle Joe came rushing in, puffing and blowing as though he'd bust.
+"Take 'em on by this train, will you?" he ses, catching 'old o' George by
+the arm.  "I've just been stopped by a bit o' business I must do, and
+I'll come on by the next, or as soon arter as I can."
+
+He rushed off again, puffing and blowing his 'ardest, in such a hurry
+that he forgot to give George the money for the tickets.  However, George
+borrowed a pencil of Mrs. Mitchell in the train, and put down on paper
+'ow much they cost, and Mrs. Mitchell said if George didn't like to
+remind 'im she would.
+
+They left young Ted and Charlie to stay near the station when they got to
+the Palace, Uncle Joe 'aving forgotten to say where he'd meet 'em, but
+train arter train came in without 'im, and at last the two boys gave it
+up.
+
+"We're sure to run across 'im sooner or later," ses Gerty.  "Let's 'ave
+something to eat; I'm so hungry."
+
+George said something about buns and milk, but Gerty took 'im up sharp.
+"Buns and milk?" she ses.  "Why, uncle would never forgive us if we
+spoilt his treat like that."
+
+She walked into a refreshment place and they 'ad cold meat and bread and
+pickles and beer and tarts and cheese, till even young Ted said he'd 'ad
+enough, but still they couldn't see any signs of Uncle Joe.  They went on
+to the roundabouts to look for 'im, and then into all sorts o' shows at
+sixpence a head, but still there was no signs of 'im, and George had 'ad
+to start on a fresh bit o' paper to put down wot he'd spent.
+
+"I suppose he must ha' been detained on important business," ses Gerty,
+at last.
+
+"Unless it's one of 'is jokes," ses Mrs. Mitchell, shaking her 'ead.
+"You know wot your uncle is, Gerty."
+
+"There now, I never thought o' that," ses Gerty, with a start; "p'r'aps
+it is."
+
+"Joke?"  ses George, choking and staring from one to the other.
+
+"I was wondering where he'd get the money from," ses Mrs. Mitchell to
+Gerty.  "I see it all now; I never see such a man for a bit o' fun in all
+my born days.  And the solemn way he went on last night, too.  Why, he
+must ha' been laughing in 'is sleeve all the time.  It's as good as a
+play."
+
+"Look here!" ses George, 'ardly able to speak; "do you mean to tell me he
+never meant to come?"
+
+"I'm afraid not," ses Mrs. Mitchell, "knowing wot he is.  But don't you
+worry; I'll give him a bit o' my mind when I see 'im."
+
+George Crofts felt as though he'd burst, and then 'e got his breath, and
+the things 'e said about Uncle Joe was so awful that Mrs. Mitchell told
+the boys to go away.
+
+"How dare you talk of my uncle like that?" ses Gerty, firing up.
+
+"You forget yourself, George," ses Mrs. Mitchell.  "You'll like 'im when
+you get to know 'im better."
+
+"Don't you call me George," ses George Crofts, turning on 'er.  "I've
+been done, that's wot I've been.  I 'ad fourteen pounds when I was paid
+off, and it's melting like butter."
+
+"Well, we've enjoyed ourselves," ses Gerty, "and that's what money was
+given us for.  I'm sure those two boys 'ave had a splendid time, thanks
+to you.  Don't go and spoil all by a little bit o' temper."
+
+"Temper!" ses George, turning on her.  "I've done with you, I wouldn't
+marry you if you was the on'y gal in the world.  I wouldn't marry you if
+you paid me."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" ses Gerty; "but if you think you can get out of it like
+that you're mistaken.  I've lost my young man through you, and I'm not
+going to lose you too.  I'll send my two big cousins round to see you
+to-morrow."
+
+"They won't put up with no nonsense, I can tell you," ses Mrs. Mitchell.
+
+She called the boys to her, and then she and Gerty, arter holding their
+'eads very high and staring at George, went off and left 'im alone.  He
+went straight off 'ome, counting 'is money all the way and trying to make
+it more, and, arter telling Bob 'ow he'd been treated, and trying hard to
+get 'im to go shares in his losses, packed up his things and cleared out,
+all boiling over with temper.
+
+Bob was so dazed he couldn't make head or tail out of it, but 'e went
+round to see Gerty the first thing next morning, and she explained things
+to him.
+
+"I don't know when I've enjoyed myself so much," she ses, wiping her
+eyes, "but I've had enough gadding about for once, and if you come round
+this evening we'll have a nice quiet time together looking at the
+furniture shops."
+
+
+
+
+
+OVER THE SIDE
+
+[Illustration: "Over the Side."]
+
+Of all classes of men, those who follow the sea are probably the most
+prone to superstition.  Afloat upon the black waste of waters, at the
+mercy of wind and sea, with vast depths and strange creatures below them,
+a belief in the supernatural is easier than ashore, under the cheerful
+gas-lamps.  Strange stories of the sea are plentiful, and an incident
+which happened within my own experience has made me somewhat chary of
+dubbing a man fool or coward because he has encountered something he
+cannot explain.  There are stories of the supernatural with prosaic
+sequels; there are others to which the sequel has never been published.
+
+I was fifteen years old at the time, and as my father, who had a strong
+objection to the sea, would not apprentice me to it, I shipped before the
+mast on a sturdy little brig called the _Endeavour,_ bound for Riga.  She
+was a small craft, but the skipper was as fine a seaman as one could wish
+for, and, in fair weather, an easy man to sail under.  Most boys have a
+rough time of it when they first go to sea, but, with a strong sense of
+what was good for me, I had attached myself to a brawny, good-natured
+infant, named Bill Smith, and it was soon understood that whoever hit me
+struck Bill by proxy.  Not that the crew were particularly brutal, but a
+sound cuffing occasionally is held by most seamen to be beneficial to a
+lad's health and morals.  The only really spiteful fellow among them was
+a man named Jem Dadd.  He was a morose, sallow-looking man, of about
+forty, with a strong taste for the supernatural, and a stronger taste
+still for frightening his fellows with it.  I have seen Bill almost
+afraid to go on deck of a night for his trick at the wheel, after a few
+of his reminiscences.  Rats were a favourite topic with him, and he would
+never allow one to be killed if he could help it, for he claimed for them
+that they were the souls of drowned sailors, hence their love of ships
+and their habit of leaving them when they became unseaworthy.  He was a
+firm believer in the transmigration of souls, some idea of which he had,
+no doubt, picked up in Eastern ports, and gave his shivering auditors to
+understand that his arrangements for his own immediate future were
+already perfected.
+
+We were six or seven days out when a strange thing happened.  Dadd had
+the second watch one night, and Bill was to relieve him.  They were not
+very strict aboard the brig in fair weather, and when a man's time was
+up he just made the wheel fast, and, running for'ard, shouted down the
+fo'c's'le.  On this night I happened to awake suddenly, in time to see
+Bill slip out of his bunk and stand by me, rubbing his red eyelids with
+his knuckles.
+
+"Dadd's giving me a long time," he whispered, seeing that I was awake;
+"it's a whole hour after his time."
+
+He pattered up on deck, and I was just turning over, thankful that I was
+too young to have a watch to keep, when he came softly down again, and,
+taking me by the shoulders, shook me roughly.
+
+"Jack," he whispered.  "Jack."
+
+I raised myself on my elbows, and, in the light of the smoking lamp, saw
+that he was shaking all over.
+
+"Come on deck," he said, thickly.
+
+I put on my clothes, and followed him quietly to the sweet, cool air
+above.  It was a beautiful clear night, but, from his manner, I looked
+nervously around for some cause of alarm.  I saw nothing.  The deck was
+deserted, except for the solitary figure at the wheel.
+
+"Look at him," whispered Bill, bending a contorted face to mine.
+
+I walked aft a few steps, and Bill followed slowly.  Then I saw that Jem
+Dadd was leaning forward clumsily on the wheel, with his hands clenched
+on the spokes.
+
+"He's asleep," said I, stopping short.
+
+Bill breathed hard.  "He's in a queer sleep," said he; "kind o' trance
+more like.  Go closer."
+
+I took fast hold of Bill's sleeve, and we both went.  The light of the
+stars was sufficient to show that Dadd's face was very white, and that
+his dim, black eyes were wide open, and staring in a very strange and
+dreadful manner straight before him.
+
+"Dadd," said I, softly, "Dadd!"
+
+There was no reply, and, with a view of arousing him, I tapped one sinewy
+hand as it gripped the wheel, and even tried to loosen it.
+
+He remained immovable, and, suddenly with a great cry, my courage
+deserted me, and Bill and I fairly bolted down into the cabin and woke
+the skipper.
+
+Then we saw how it was with Jem, and two strong seamen forcibly loosened
+the grip of those rigid fingers, and, laying him on the deck, covered him
+with a piece of canvas.  The rest of the night two men stayed at the
+wheel, and, gazing fearfully at the outline of the canvas, longed for
+dawn.
+
+It came at last, and, breakfast over, the body was sewn up in canvas, and
+the skipper held a short service compiled from a Bible which belonged to
+the mate, and what he remembered of the Burial Service proper.  Then the
+corpse went overboard with a splash, and the men, after standing
+awkwardly together for a few minutes, slowly dispersed to their duties.
+
+For the rest of that day we were all very quiet and restrained; pity for
+the dead man being mingled with a dread of taking the wheel when night
+came.
+
+"The wheel's haunted," said the cook, solemnly; "mark my words, there's
+more of you will be took the same way Dadd was."
+
+The cook, like myself, had no watch to keep.
+
+The men bore up pretty well until night came on again, and then they
+unanimously resolved to have a double watch.  The cook, sorely against
+his will, was impressed into the service, and I, glad to oblige my
+patron, agreed to stay up with Bill.
+
+Some of the pleasure had vanished by the time night came, and I seemed
+only just to have closed my eyes when Bill came, and, with a rough shake
+or two, informed me that the time had come.  Any hope that I might have
+had of escaping the ordeal was at once dispelled by his expectant
+demeanour, and the helpful way in which he assisted me with my clothes,
+and, yawning terribly, I followed him on deck.
+
+The night was not so clear as the preceding one, and the air was chilly,
+with a little moisture in it.  I buttoned up my jacket, and thrust my
+hands in my pockets.
+
+"Everything quiet?" asked Bill as he stepped up and took the wheel.
+
+"Ay, ay," said Roberts, "quiet as the grave," and, followed by his
+willing mate, he went below.
+
+I sat on the deck by Bill's side as, with a light touch on the wheel,
+he kept the brig to her course.  It was weary work sitting there, doing
+nothing, and thinking of the warm berth below, and I believe that I
+should have fallen asleep, but that my watchful companion stirred me with
+his foot whenever he saw me nodding.
+
+I suppose I must have sat there, shivering and yawning, for about an
+hour, when, tired of inactivity, I got up and went and leaned over the
+side of the vessel.  The sound of the water gurgling and lapping by was
+so soothing that I began to doze.
+
+I was recalled to my senses by a smothered cry from Bill, and, running to
+him, I found him staring to port in an intense and uncomfortable fashion.
+At my approach, he took one hand from the wheel, and gripped my arm so
+tightly that I was like to have screamed with the pain of it.
+
+"Jack," said he, in a shaky voice, "while you was away something popped
+its head up, and looked over the ship's side."
+
+"You've been dreaming," said I, in a voice which was a very fair
+imitation of Bill's own.
+
+"Dreaming," repeated Bill, "dreaming!  Ah, look there!"
+
+He pointed with outstretched finger, and my heart seemed to stop beating
+as I saw a man's head appear above the side.  For a brief space it peered
+at us in silence, and then a dark figure sprang like a cat on to the
+deck, and stood crouching a short distance away.
+
+A mist came before my eyes, and my tongue failed me, but Bill let off a
+roar, such as I have never heard before or since.  It was answered from
+below, both aft and for'ard, and the men came running up on deck just as
+they left their beds.
+
+"What's up?" shouted the skipper, glancing aloft.
+
+For answer, Bill pointed to the intruder, and the men, who had just
+caught sight of him, came up and formed a compact knot by the wheel.
+
+"Come over the side, it did," panted Bill, "come over like a ghost out of
+the sea."
+
+The skipper took one of the small lamps from the binnacle, and, holding
+it aloft, walked boldly up to the cause of alarm.  In the little patch of
+light we saw a ghastly black-bearded man, dripping with water, regarding
+us with unwinking eyes, which glowed red in the light of the lamp.
+
+"Where did you come from?" asked the skipper.
+
+The figure shook its head.
+
+"Where did you come from?" he repeated, walking up, and laying his hand
+on the other's shoulder.
+
+Then the intruder spoke, but in a strange fashion and in strange words.
+We leaned forward to listen, but, even when he repeated them, we could
+make nothing of them.
+
+"He's a furriner," said Roberts.
+
+"Blest if I've ever 'eard the lingo afore," said Bill.  "Does anybody
+rekernize it?"
+
+Nobody did, and the skipper, after another attempt, gave it up, and,
+falling back upon the universal language of signs, pointed first to the
+man and then to the sea.  The other understood him, and, in a heavy,
+slovenly fashion, portrayed a man drifting in an open boat, and clutching
+and clambering up the side of a passing ship.  As his meaning dawned upon
+us, we rushed to the stern, and, leaning over, peered into the gloom, but
+the night was dark, and we saw nothing.
+
+"Well," said the skipper, turning to Bill, with a mighty yawn, "take him
+below, and give him some grub, and the next time a gentleman calls on
+you, don't make such a confounded row about it."
+
+He went below, followed by the mate, and after some slight hesitation,
+Roberts stepped up to the intruder, and signed to him to follow.  He came
+stolidly enough, leaving a trail of water on the deck, and, after
+changing into the dry things we gave him, fell to, but without much
+appearance of hunger, upon some salt beef and biscuits, regarding us
+between bites with black, lack-lustre eyes.
+
+"He seems as though he's a-walking in his sleep," said the cook.
+
+"He ain't very hungry," said one of the men; "he seems to mumble his
+food."
+
+"Hungry!" repeated Bill, who had just left the wheel.  "Course he ain't
+famished.  He had his tea last night."
+
+The men stared at him in bewilderment.
+
+"Don't you see?" said Bill, still in a hoarse whisper; "ain't you ever
+seen them eyes afore?  Don't you know what he used to say about dying?
+It's Jem Dadd come back to us.  Jem Dadd got another man's body, as he
+always said he would."
+
+"Rot!" said Roberts, trying to speak bravely, but he got up, and, with
+the others, huddled together at the end of the fo'c's'le, and stared in a
+bewildered fashion at the sodden face and short, squat figure of our
+visitor.  For his part, having finished his meal, he pushed his plate
+from him, and, leaning back on the locker, looked at the empty bunks.
+
+Roberts caught his eye, and, with a nod and a wave of his hand, indicated
+the bunks.  The fellow rose from the locker, and, amid a breathless
+silence, climbed into one of them--Jem Dadd's!
+
+He slept in the dead sailor's bed that night, the only man in the
+fo'c's'le who did sleep properly, and turned out heavily and lumpishly in
+the morning for breakfast.
+
+The skipper had him on deck after the meal, but could make nothing of
+him.  To all his questions he replied in the strange tongue of the night
+before, and, though our fellows had been to many ports, and knew a word
+or two of several languages, none of them recognized it.  The skipper
+gave it up at last, and, left to himself, he stared about him for some
+time, regardless of our interest in his movements, and then, leaning
+heavily against the side of the ship, stayed there so long that we
+thought he must have fallen asleep.
+
+"He's half-dead now!" whispered Roberts.
+
+"Hush!" said Bill, "mebbe he's been in the water a week or two, and can't
+quite make it out.  See how he's looking at it now."
+
+He stayed on deck all day in the sun, but, as night came on, returned to
+the warmth of the fo'c's'le.  The food we gave him remained untouched,
+and he took little or no notice of us, though I fancied that he saw the
+fear we had of him.  He slept again in the dead man's bunk, and when
+morning came still lay there.
+
+Until dinner-time, nobody interfered with him, and then Roberts, pushed
+forward by the others, approached him with some food.  He motioned, it
+away with a dirty, bloated hand, and, making signs for water, drank it
+eagerly.
+
+For two days he stayed there quietly, the black eyes always open, the
+stubby fingers always on the move.  On the third morning Bill, who had
+conquered his fear sufficiently to give him water occasionally, called
+softly to us.
+
+"Come and look at him," said he.  "What's the matter with him?"
+
+"He's dying!" said the cook, with a shudder.
+
+"He can't be going to die yet!" said Bill, blankly.
+
+As he spoke the man's eyes seemed to get softer and more life-like, and
+he looked at us piteously and helplessly.  From face to face he gazed in
+mute inquiry, and then, striking his chest feebly with his fist, uttered
+two words.
+
+We looked at each other blankly, and he repeated them eagerly, and again
+touched his chest.
+
+"It's his name," said the cook, and we all repeated them.
+
+He smiled in an exhausted fashion, and then, rallying his energies, held
+up a forefinger; as we stared at this new riddle, he lowered it, and held
+up all four fingers, doubled.
+
+"Come away," quavered the cook; "he's putting a spell on us."
+
+We drew back at that, and back farther still, as he repeated the motions.
+Then Bill's face cleared suddenly, and he stepped towards him.
+
+"He means his wife and younkers!" he shouted eagerly.  "This ain't no Jem
+Dadd!"
+
+It was good then to see how our fellows drew round the dying sailor, and
+strove to cheer him.  Bill, to show he understood the finger business,
+nodded cheerily, and held his hand at four different heights from the
+floor.  The last was very low, so low that the man set his lips together,
+and strove to turn his heavy head from us.
+
+"Poor devil!" said Bill, "he wants us to tell his wife and children
+what's become of him.  He must ha' been dying when he come aboard.  What
+was his name, again?"
+
+But the name was not easy to English lips, and we had already forgotten
+it.
+
+"Ask him again," said the cook, "and write it down.  Who's got a pen?"
+
+He went to look for one as Bill turned to the sailor to get him to repeat
+it.  Then he turned round again, and eyed us blankly, for, by this time,
+the owner had himself forgotten it.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FOUR PIGEONS
+
+[Illustration: "The Four Pigeons."]
+
+The old man took up his mug and shifted along the bench until he was in
+the shade of the elms that stood before the _Cauliflower_.  The action also
+had the advantage of bringing him opposite the two strangers who were
+refreshing themselves after the toils of a long walk in the sun.
+
+"My hearing ain't wot it used to be," he said, tremulously.  "When you
+asked me to have a mug o' ale I 'ardly heard you; and if you was to ask
+me to 'ave another, I mightn't hear you at all."
+
+One of the men nodded.
+
+"Not over there," piped the old man.  "That's why I come over here," he
+added, after a pause.  "It 'ud be rude like to take no notice; if you was
+to ask me."
+
+He looked round as the landlord approached, and pushed his mug gently in
+his direction.  The landlord, obeying a nod from the second stranger,
+filled it.
+
+"It puts life into me," said the old man, raising it to his lips and
+bowing.  "It makes me talk."
+
+"Time we were moving, Jack," said the first traveller.  The second,
+assenting to this as an abstract proposition, expressed, however, a
+determination to finish his pipe first.
+
+I heard you saying something about shooting, continued the old man, and
+that reminds me of some shooting we 'ad here once in Claybury.  We've
+always 'ad a lot o' game in these parts, and if it wasn't for a low,
+poaching fellow named Bob Pretty--Claybury's disgrace I call 'im--we'd
+'ave a lot more.
+
+It happened in this way.  Squire Rockett was going abroad to foreign
+parts for a year, and he let the Hall to a gentleman from London named
+Sutton.  A real gentleman 'e was, open-'anded and free, and just about
+October he 'ad a lot of 'is friends come down from London to 'elp 'im
+kill the pheasants.
+
+The first day they frightened more than they killed, but they enjoyed
+theirselves all right until one gentleman, who 'adn't shot a single thing
+all day, shot pore Bill Chambers wot was beating with about a dozen more.
+
+Bill got most of it in the shoulder and a little in the cheek, but the
+row he see fit to make you'd ha' thought he'd been killed.  He laid on
+the ground groaning with 'is eyes shut, and everybody thought 'e was
+dying till Henery Walker stooped down and asked 'im whether 'e was hurt.
+
+It took four men to carry Bill 'ome, and he was that particular you
+wouldn't believe.  They 'ad to talk in whispers, and when Peter Gubbins
+forgot 'imself and began to whistle he asked him where his 'art was.
+When they walked fast he said they jolted 'im, and when they walked slow
+'e asked 'em whether they'd gone to sleep or wot.
+
+Bill was in bed for nearly a week, but the gentleman was very nice about
+it and said that it was his fault.  He was a very pleasant-spoken
+gentleman, and, arter sending Dr. Green to him and saying he'd pay the
+bill, 'e gave Bill Chambers ten pounds to make up for 'is sufferings.
+
+Bill 'ad intended to lay up for another week, and the doctor, wot 'ad
+been calling twice a day, said he wouldn't be responsible for 'is life if
+he didn't; but the ten pounds was too much for 'im, and one evening, just
+a week arter the accident, he turned up at this _Cauliflower_ public-'ouse
+and began to spend 'is money.
+
+His face was bandaged up, and when 'e come in he walked feeble-like and
+spoke in a faint sort o' voice.  Smith, the landlord, got 'im a
+easy-chair and a couple of pillers out o' the parlour, and Bill sat there
+like a king, telling us all his sufferings and wot it felt like to be
+shot.
+
+I always have said wot a good thing beer is, and it done Bill more good
+than doctor's medicine.  When he came in he could 'ardly crawl, and at
+nine o'clock 'e was out of the easy-chair and dancing on the table as
+well as possible.  He smashed three mugs and upset about two pints o'
+beer, but he just put his 'and in his pocket and paid for 'em without a
+word.
+
+"There's plenty more where that came from," he ses, pulling out a handful
+o' money.
+
+Peter Gubbins looked at it, 'ardly able to speak.  "It's worth while
+being shot to 'ave all that money," he ses, at last.
+
+"Don't you worry yourself, Peter," ses Bob Pretty; "there's plenty more
+of you as'll be shot afore them gentlemen at the Hall 'as finished.
+Bill's the fust, but 'e won't be the last--not by a long chalk."
+
+"They're more careful now," ses Dicky Weed, the tailor.
+
+"All right; 'ave it your own way," ses Bob, nasty-like.  "I don't know
+much about shooting, being on'y a pore labourin' man.  All I know is I
+shouldn't like to go beating for them.  I'm too fond o' my wife and
+family."
+
+"There won't be no more shot," ses Sam Jones.
+
+"We're too careful," ses Peter Gubbins.
+
+"Bob Pretty don't know everything," ses Dicky Weed.
+
+"I'll bet you what you like there'll be some more of you shot," ses Bob
+Pretty, in a temper.  "Now, then."
+
+"'Ow much'll you bet, Bob," ses Sam Jones, with a wink at the others.
+"I can see you winking, Sam Jones," ses Bob Pretty, "but I'll do more
+than bet.  The last bet I won is still owing to me.  Now, look 'ere; I'll
+pay you sixpence a week all the time you're beating if you promise to
+give me arf of wot you get if you're shot.  I can't say fairer than
+that."
+
+"Will you give me sixpence a week, too?" ses Henery Walker, jumping up.
+
+"I will," ses Bob; "and anybody else that likes.  And wot's more, I'll
+pay in advance.  Fust sixpences now."
+
+Claybury men 'ave never been backward when there's been money to be made
+easy, and they all wanted to join Bob Pretty's club, as he called it.
+But fust of all 'e asked for a pen and ink, and then he got Smith, the
+land-lord, being a scholard, to write out a paper for them to sign.
+Henery Walker was the fust to write 'is name, and then Sam Jones, Peter
+Gubbins, Ralph Thomson, Jem Hall, and Walter Bell wrote theirs.  Bob
+stopped 'em then, and said six 'ud be enough to go on with; and then 'e
+paid up the sixpences and wished 'em luck.
+
+Wot they liked a'most as well as the sixpences was the idea o' getting
+the better o' Bob Pretty.  As I said afore, he was a poacher, and that
+artful that up to that time nobody 'ad ever got the better of 'im.
+
+They made so much fun of 'im the next night that Bob turned sulky and
+went off 'ome, and for two or three nights he 'ardly showed his face; and
+the next shoot they 'ad he went off to Wickham and nobody saw 'im all
+day.
+
+That very day Henery Walker was shot.  Several gentlemen fired at a
+rabbit that was started, and the next thing they knew Henery Walker was
+lying on the ground calling out that 'is leg 'ad been shot off.
+
+He made more fuss than Bill Chambers a'most, 'specially when they dropped
+'im off a hurdle carrying him 'ome, and the things he said to Dr. Green
+for rubbing his 'ands as he came into the bedroom was disgraceful.
+
+The fust Bob Pretty 'eard of it was up at the _Cauliflower_ at eight
+o'clock that evening, and he set down 'is beer and set off to see Henery
+as fast as 'is legs could carry 'im.  Henery was asleep when 'e got
+there, and, do all he could, Bob Pretty couldn't wake 'im till he sat
+down gentle on 'is bad leg.
+
+[Illustration: "The fust Bob Pretty 'eard of it was up at the
+_Cauliflower_ at eight o'clock that evening."]
+
+"It's on'y me, old pal," he ses, smiling at 'im as Henery woke up and
+shouted at 'im to get up.
+
+Henery Walker was going to say something bad, but 'e thought better of
+it, and he lay there arf busting with rage, and watching Bob out of the
+corner of one eye.
+
+"I quite forgot you was on my club till Smith reminded me of it," ses
+Bob.  "Don't you take a farthing less than ten pounds, Henery."
+
+Henery Walker shut his eyes again.  "I forgot to tell you I made up my
+mind this morning not to belong to your club any more, Bob," he ses.
+
+"Why didn't you come and tell me, Henery, instead of leaving it till it
+was too late?" ses Bob, shaking his 'ead at 'im.
+
+"I shall want all that money," ses Henery in a weak voice.  "I might 'ave
+to have a wooden leg, Bob."
+
+"Don't meet troubles arf way, Henery," ses Bob, in a kind voice.  "I've
+no doubt Mr. Sutton'll throw in a wooden leg if you want it, and look
+here, if he does, I won't trouble you for my arf of it."
+
+He said good-night to Henery and went off, and when Mrs. Walker went up
+to see 'ow Henery was getting on he was carrying on that alarming that
+she couldn't do nothing with 'im.
+
+He was laid up for over a week, though it's my opinion he wasn't much
+hurt, and the trouble was that nobody knew which gentleman 'ad shot 'im.
+Mr. Sutton talked it over with them, and at last, arter a good deal o'
+trouble, and Henery pulling up 'is trousers and showing them 'is leg till
+they was fair sick of the sight of it, they paid 'im ten pounds, the same
+as they 'ad Bill.
+
+It took Bob Pretty two days to get his arf, but he kept very quiet about
+it, not wishing to make a fuss in the village for fear Mr. Sutton should
+get to hear of the club.  At last he told Henery Walker that 'e was going
+to Wickham to see 'is lawyer about it, and arter Smith the landlord 'ad
+read the paper to Henery and explained 'ow he'd very likely 'ave to pay
+more than the whole ten pounds then, 'e gave Bob his arf and said he
+never wanted to see 'im again as long as he lived.
+
+Bob stood treat up at the _Cauliflower_ that night, and said 'ow bad he'd
+been treated.  The tears stood in 'is eyes a'most, and at last 'e said
+that if 'e thought there was going to be any more fuss of that kind he'd
+wind up the club.
+
+"It's the best thing you can do," ses Sam Jones; "I'm not going to belong
+to it any longer, so I give you notice.  If so be as I get shot I want
+the money for myself."
+
+"Me, too," ses Peter Gubbins; "it 'ud fair break my 'art to give Bob
+Pretty five pounds.  I'd sooner give it to my wife."
+
+All the other chaps said the same thing, but Bob pointed out to them that
+they 'ad taken their sixpences on'y the night afore, and they must stay
+in for the week.  He said that was the law.  Some of 'em talked about
+giving 'im 'is sixpences back, but Bob said if they did they must pay up
+all the sixpences they had 'ad for three weeks.  The end of it was they
+said they'd stay in for that week and not a moment longer.
+
+The next day Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins altered their minds.  Sam found
+a couple o' shillings that his wife 'ad hidden in her Sunday bonnet, and
+Peter Gubbins opened 'is boy's money-box to see 'ow much there was in it.
+They came up to the _Cauliflower_ to pay Bob their eighteen-pences, but he
+wasn't there, and when they went to his 'ouse Mrs. Pretty said as 'ow
+he'd gone off to Wickham and wouldn't be back till Saturday.  So they 'ad
+to spend the money on beer instead.
+
+That was on Tuesday, and things went on all right till Friday, when Mr.
+Sutton 'ad another shoot.  The birds was getting scarce and the gentlemen
+that anxious to shoot them there was no 'olding them.  Once or twice the
+keepers spoke to 'em about carefulness, and said wot large families
+they'd got, but it wasn't much good.  They went on blazing away, and just
+at the corner of the wood Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins was both hit; Sam
+in the leg and Peter in the arm.
+
+The noise that was made was awful--everybody shouting that they 'adn't
+done it, and all speaking at once, and Mr. Sutton was dancing about
+a'most beside 'imself with rage.  Pore Sam and Peter was 'elped along by
+the others; Sam being carried and Peter led, and both of 'em with the
+idea of getting all they could out of it, making such 'orrible noises
+that Mr. Sutton couldn't hear 'imself calling his friends names.
+
+"There seems to be wounded men calling out all over the place," he ses,
+in a temper.
+
+"I think there is another one over there, sir," ses one o' the keepers,
+pointing.
+
+Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins both left off to listen, and then they all
+heard it distinctly.  A dreadful noise it was, and when Mr. Sutton and
+one or two more follered it up they found poor Walter Bell lying on 'is
+face in a bramble.
+
+"Wot's the matter?" ses Mr. Sutton, shouting at 'im.
+
+"I've been shot from behind," ses Walter.  "I'd got something in my boot,
+and I was just stooping down to fasten it up agin when I got it.
+
+"But there oughtn't to be anybody 'ere," ses Mr. Sutton to one of the
+keepers.
+
+"They get all over the place, sir," ses the 'keeper, scratching his 'ead.
+"I fancied I 'eard a gun go off here a minute or two arter the others was
+shot."
+
+"I believe he's done it 'imself," says Mr. Sutton, stamping his foot.
+
+"I don't see 'ow he could, sir," ses the keeper, touching his cap and
+looking at Walter as was still lying with 'is face on 'is arms.
+
+They carried Walter 'ome that way on a hurdle, and Dr. Green spent all
+the rest o' that day picking shots out o' them three men and telling 'em
+to keep still.  He 'ad to do Sam Jones by candle-light, with Mrs. Jones
+'olding the candle with one hand and crying with the other.  Twice the
+doctor told her to keep it steady, and poor Sam 'ad only just passed the
+remark, "How 'ot it was for October," when they discovered that the bed
+was on fire.  The doctor said that Sam was no trouble.  He got off of the
+bed by 'imself, and, when it was all over and the fire put out, the
+doctor found him sitting on the stairs with the leg of a broken chair in
+'is hand calling for 'is wife.
+
+Of course, there was a terrible to-do about it in Claybury, and up at the
+Hall, too.  All of the gentlemen said as 'ow they hadn't done it, and Mr.
+Sutton was arf crazy with rage.  He said that they 'ad made 'im the
+laughing-stock of the neighbourhood, and that they oughtn't to shoot with
+anything but pop-guns.  They got to such high words over it that two of
+the gentlemen went off 'ome that very night.
+
+There was a lot of talk up at the _Cauliflower,_ too, and more than one
+pointed out 'ow lucky Bob Pretty was in getting four men out of the six
+in his club.  As I said afore, Bob was away at the time, but he came back
+the next night and we 'ad the biggest row here you could wish for to see.
+
+Henery Walker began it.  "I s'pose you've 'eard the dreadful news, Bob
+Pretty?" he ses, looking at 'im.
+
+"I 'ave," ses Bob; "and my 'art bled for 'em.  I told you wot those
+gentlemen was like, didn't I?  But none of you would believe me.  Now you
+can see as I was right."
+
+"It's very strange," ses Henery Walker, looking round; "it's very strange
+that all of us wot's been shot belonged to Bob Pretty's precious club."
+
+"It's my luck, Henery," ses Bob, "always was lucky from a child."
+
+"And I s'pose you think you're going to 'ave arf of the money they get?"
+ses Henery Walker.
+
+"Don't talk about money while them pore chaps is suffering," ses Bob.
+"I'm surprised at you, Henery."
+
+"You won't 'ave a farthing of it," ses Henery Walker; "and wot's more,
+Bob Pretty, I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back."
+
+"Don't you believe it, Henery," ses Bob, smiling at 'im.
+
+"I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back," ses Henery, "and you know why.
+I know wot your club was for now, and we was all a pack o' silly fools
+not to see it afore."
+
+"Speak for yourself, Henery," ses John Biggs, who thought Henery was
+looking at 'im.
+
+"I've been putting two and two together," ses Henery, looking round, "and
+it's as plain as the nose on your face.  Bob Pretty hid up in the wood
+and shot us all himself!"
+
+For a moment you might 'ave heard a pin drop, and then there was such a
+noise nobody could hear theirselves speak.  Everybody was shouting his
+'ardest, and the on'y quiet one there was Bob Pretty 'imself.
+
+"Poor Henery; he's gorn mad," he ses, shaking his 'ead.
+
+"You're a murderer," ses Ralph Thomson, shaking 'is fist at him.
+
+"Henery Walker's gorn mad," ses Bob agin.  "Why, I ain't been near the
+place.  There's a dozen men'll swear that I was at Wickham each time
+these misfortunate accidents 'appened."
+
+"Men like you, they'd swear anything for a pot o' beer," ses Henery.
+"But I'm not going to waste time talking to you, Bob Pretty.  I'm going
+straight off to tell Mr. Sutton."
+
+"I shouldn't do that if I was you, Henery," ses Bob.
+
+"I dessay," ses Henery Walker; "but then you see I am."
+
+"I thought you'd gorn mad, Henery," ses Bob, taking a drink o' beer that
+somebody 'ad left on the table by mistake, "and now I'm sure of it.  Why,
+if you tell Mr. Sutton that it wasn't his friends that shot them pore
+fellers he won't pay them anything.  'Tain't likely 'e would, is it?"
+
+Henery Walker, wot 'ad been standing up looking fierce at 'im, sat down
+agin, struck all of a heap.
+
+"And he might want your ten pounds back, Henery," said Bob in a soft
+voice.  "And seeing as 'ow you was kind enough to give five to me, and
+spent most of the other, it 'ud come 'ard on you, wouldn't it?  Always
+think afore you speak, Henery.  I always do."
+
+Henery Walker got up and tried to speak, but 'e couldn't, and he didn't
+get 'is breath back till Bob said it was plain to see that he 'adn't got
+a word to say for 'imself.  Then he shook 'is fist at Bob and called 'im
+a low, thieving, poaching murderer.
+
+"You're not yourself, Henery," ses Bob.  "When you come round you'll be
+sorry for trying to take away the character of a pore labourin' man with
+a ailing wife and a large family.  But if you take my advice you won't
+say anything more about your wicked ideas; if you do, these pore fellers
+won't get a farthing.  And you'd better keep quiet about the club mates
+for their sakes.  Other people might get the same crazy ideas in their
+silly 'eads as Henery.  Keepers especially."
+
+That was on'y common sense; but, as John Biggs said, it did seem 'ard to
+think as 'ow Bob Pretty should be allowed to get off scot-free, and with
+Henery Walker's five pounds too.  "There's one thing," he ses to Bob;
+"you won't 'ave any of these other pore chaps money; and, if they're men,
+they ought to make it up to Henery Walker for the money he 'as saved 'em
+by finding you out."
+
+"They've got to pay me fust," ses Bob.  "I'm a pore man, but I'll stick
+up for my rights.  As for me shooting 'em, they'd ha' been 'urt a good
+deal more if I'd done it--especially Mr. Henery Walker.  Why, they're
+hardly 'urt at all."
+
+"Don't answer 'im, Henery," ses John Biggs.  "You save your breath to go
+and tell Sam Jones and the others about it.  It'll cheer 'em up."
+
+"And tell 'em about my arf, in case they get too cheerful and go
+overdoing it," ses Bob Pretty, stopping at the door.  "Good-night all."
+
+Nobody answered 'im; and arter waiting a little bit Henery Walker set off
+to see Sam Jones and the others.  John Biggs was quite right about its
+making 'em cheerful, but they see as plain as Bob 'imself that it 'ad got
+to be kept quiet.  "Till we've spent the money, at any rate," ses Walter
+Bell; "then p'r'aps Mr. Sutton might get Bob locked up for it."
+
+Mr. Sutton went down to see 'em all a day or two afterwards.  The
+shooting-party was broken up and gone 'ome, but they left some money
+behind 'em.  Ten pounds each they was to 'ave, same as the others, but
+Mr. Sutton said that he 'ad heard 'ow the other money was wasted at the
+_Cauliflower,_ and 'e was going to give it out to 'em ten shillings a
+week until the money was gorn.  He 'ad to say it over and over agin afore
+they understood 'im, and Walter Bell 'ad to stuff the bedclo'es in 'is
+mouth to keep civil.
+
+Peter Gubbins, with 'is arm tied up in a sling, was the fust one to turn
+up at the _Cauliflower,_ and he was that down-'arted about it we couldn't
+do nothing with 'im.  He 'ad expected to be able to pull out ten golden
+sovereigns, and the disapp'intment was too much for 'im.
+
+"I wonder 'ow they heard about it," ses Dicky Weed.
+
+"I can tell you," ses Bob Pretty, wot 'ad been sitting up in a corner by
+himself, nodding and smiling at Peter, wot wouldn't look at 'im.  "A
+friend o' mine at Wickham wrote to him about it.  He was so disgusted at
+the way Bill Chambers and Henery Walker come up 'ere wasting their
+'ard-earned money, that he sent 'im a letter, signed 'A Friend of the
+Working Man,' telling 'im about it and advising 'im what to do."
+
+"A friend o' yours?" ses John Biggs, staring at 'im.  "What for?"
+
+"I don't know," ses Bob; "he's a wunnerful good scholard, and he likes
+writin' letters.  He's going to write another to-morrer, unless I go over
+and stop 'im."
+
+"Another?" ses Peter, who 'ad been tellin' everybody that 'e wouldn't
+speak to 'im agin as long as he lived.  "Wot about?"
+
+"About the idea that I shot you all," ses Bob.  "I want my character
+cleared.  O' course, they can't prove anything against me--I've got my
+witnesses.  But, taking one thing with another, I see now that it does
+look suspicious, and I don't suppose any of you'll get any more of your
+money.  Mr. Sutton is so sick o' being laughed at, he'll jump at
+anything."
+
+"You dursn't do it, Bob," ses Peter, all of a tremble.
+
+"It ain't me, Peter, old pal," ses Bob, "it's my friend.  But I don't
+mind stopping 'im for the sake of old times if I get my arf.  He'd listen
+to me, I feel sure."
+
+At fust Peter said he wouldn't get a farthing out of 'im if his friend
+wrote letters till Dooms-day; but by-and-by he thought better of it, and
+asked Bob to stay there while he went down to see Sam and Walter about
+it.  When 'e came back he'd got the fust week's money for Bob Pretty; but
+he said he left Walter Bell carrying on like a madman, and, as for Sam
+Jones, he was that upset 'e didn't believe he'd last out the night.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE TEMPTATION OF SAMUEL BURGE
+
+[Illustration: "The Temptation of Samuel Burge."]
+
+Mr. Higgs, jeweller, sat in the small parlour behind his shop, gazing
+hungrily at a supper-table which had been laid some time before.  It was
+a quarter to ten by the small town clock on the mantelpiece, and the
+jeweller rubbing his hands over the fire tried in vain to remember what
+etiquette had to say about starting a meal before the arrival of an
+expected guest.
+
+"He must be coming by the last train after all, sir," said the
+housekeeper entering the room and glancing at the clock.  "I suppose
+these London gentlemen keep such late hours they don't understand us
+country folk wanting to get to bed in decent time.  You must be wanting
+your supper, sir."
+
+Mr. Higgs sighed.  "I shall be glad of my supper," he said slowly, "but I
+dare say our friend is hungrier still.  Travelling is hungry work."
+
+"Perhaps he is thinking over his words for the seventh day," said the
+housekeeper solemnly.  "Forgetting hunger and thirst and all our poor
+earthly feelings in the blessedness of his work."
+
+"Perhaps so," assented the other, whose own earthly feelings were
+particularly strong just at that moment.
+
+"Brother Simpson used to forget all about meal-times when he stayed
+here," said the housekeeper, clasping her hands.  "He used to sit by the
+window with his eyes half-closed and shake his head at the smell from the
+kitchen and call it flesh-pots of Egypt.  He said that if it wasn't for
+keeping up his strength for the work, luscious bread and fair water was
+all he wanted.  I expect Brother Burge will be a similar sort of man."
+
+"Brother Clark wrote and told me that he only lives for the work," said
+the jeweller, with another glance at the clock.  "The chapel at
+Clerkenwell is crowded to hear him.  It's a blessed favour and privilege
+to have such a selected instrument staying in the house.  I'm curious to
+see him; from what Brother Clark said I rather fancy that he was a little
+bit wild in his younger days."
+
+"Hallelujah!" exclaimed the housekeeper with fervour.  "I mean to think
+as he's seen the error of his ways," she added sharply, as her master
+looked up.
+
+"There he is," said the latter, as the bell rang.
+
+The housekeeper went to the side-door, and drawing back the bolt admitted
+the gentleman whose preaching had done so much for the small but select
+sect known as the Seventh Day Primitive Apostles.  She came back into the
+room followed by a tall stout man, whose upper lip and short stubby beard
+streaked with grey seemed a poor match for the beady eyes which lurked
+behind a pair of clumsy spectacles.
+
+"Brother Samuel Burge?" inquired the jeweller, rising.
+
+The visitor nodded, and regarding him with a smile charged with fraternal
+love, took his hand in a huge grip and shook it fervently.
+
+"I am glad to see you, Brother Higgs," he said, regarding him fondly.
+"Oh, 'ow my eyes have yearned to be set upon you!  Oh, 'ow my ears 'ave
+longed to hearken unto the words of your voice!"
+
+He breathed thickly, and taking a seat sat with his hands upon his knees,
+looking at a fine piece of cold beef which the housekeeper had just
+placed upon the table.
+
+"Is Brother Clark well?" inquired the jeweller, placing a chair for him
+at the table and taking up his carving-knife.
+
+"Dear Brother Clark is in excellent 'ealth, I thank you," said the other,
+taking the proffered chair.  "Oh! what a man he is; what a instrument for
+good.  Always stretching out them blessed hands of 'is to make one of the
+fallen a Seventh Day Primitive."
+
+"And success attends his efforts?" said the jeweller.
+
+"Success, Brother!" repeated Mr. Burge, eating rapidly and gesticulating
+with his knife.  "Success ain't no name for it.  Why, since this day last
+week he has saved three pick-pockets, two Salvationists, one bigamist and
+a Roman Catholic."
+
+Brother Higgs murmured his admiration.  "You are also a power for good,"
+he said wistfully.  "Brother Clark tells me in his letter that your
+exhortations have been abundantly blessed."
+
+Mr. Burge shook his head.  "A lot of it falls by the wayside," he said
+modestly, "but some of it is an eye-opener to them as don't entirely shut
+their ears.  Only the day before yesterday I 'ad two jemmies and a dark
+lantern sent me with a letter saying as 'ow the owner had no further use
+for 'em."
+
+The jeweller's eyes glistened with admiration not quite untinged with
+envy.  "Have you expounded the Word for long?" he inquired.
+
+"Six months," replied the other.  "It come to me quite natural--I was on
+the penitent bench on the Saturday, and the Wednesday afterwards I
+preached as good a sermon as ever I've preached in my life.  Brother
+Clark said it took 'is breath away."
+
+"And he's a judge too," said the admiring jeweller.
+
+"Now," continued Brother Burge, helping himself plentifully to pickled
+walnuts.  "Now there ain't standing room in our Bethel when I'm
+expounding.  People come to hear me from all parts--old and young--rich
+and poor--and the Apostles that don't come early 'ave to stand outside
+and catch the crumbs I throw 'em through the winders."
+
+"It is enough," sighed Brother Higgs, whose own audience was frequently
+content to be on the wrong side of the window, "it is enough to make a
+man vain."
+
+"I struggle against it, Brother," said Mr. Burge, passing his cup up for
+some more tea.  "I fight against it hard, but once the Evil One was
+almost too much for me; and in spite of myself, and knowing besides that
+it was a plot of 'is, I nearly felt uplifted."
+
+Brother Higgs, passing him some more beef, pressed for details.
+
+"He sent me two policemen," replied the other, scowling darkly at the
+meanness of the trick.  "One I might 'ave stood, but two come to being
+pretty near too much for me.  They sat under me while I gave 'em the Word
+'ot and strong, and the feeling I had standing up there and telling
+policemen what they ought to do I shall never forget."
+
+"But why should policemen make you proud?" asked his puzzled listener.
+
+Mr. Burge looked puzzled in his turn.  "Why, hasn't Brother Clark told
+you about me?" he inquired.
+
+Mr. Higgs shook his head.  "He sort of--suggested that--that you had been
+a little bit wild before you came to us," he murmured apologetically.
+
+"A--little--bit--wild?" repeated Brother Burge, in horrified accents.
+"ME? a little bit wild?"
+
+"No doubt he exaggerated a little," said the jeweller hurriedly.  "Being
+such a good man himself, no doubt things would seem wild to him that
+wouldn't to us--to me, I mean."
+
+"A little bit wild," said his visitor again.  "Sam Burge, the Converted
+Burglar, a little bit wild.  Well, well!"
+
+"Converted what?" shouted the jeweller, half-rising from his chair.
+
+"Burglar," said the other shortly.  "Why, I should think I know more
+about the inside o' gaols than anybody in England; I've pretty near
+killed three policemen, besides breaking a gent's leg and throwing a
+footman out of window, and then Brother Clark goes and says I've been a
+little bit wild.  I wonder what he would 'ave?"
+
+"But you--you've quite reformed now?" said the jeweller, resuming his
+seat and making a great effort to hide his consternation.
+
+"I 'ope so," said Mr. Burge, with alarming humility; "but it's an
+uncertain world, and far be it from me to boast.  That's why I've come
+here."
+
+Mr. Higgs, only half-comprehending, sat back gasping.
+
+"If I can stand this," pursued Brother Burge, gesticulating wildly in the
+direction of the shop, "if I can stand being here with all these 'ere
+pretty little things to be 'ad for the trouble of picking of 'em up, I
+can stand anything.  Tempt me, I says to Brother Clark.  Put me in the
+way o' temptation, I says.  Let me see whether the Evil One or me is the
+strongest; let me 'ave a good old up and down with the Powers o'
+Darkness, and see who wins."
+
+Mr. Higgs, gripping the edge of the table with both hands, gazed at this
+new Michael in speechless consternation.
+
+"I think I see his face now," said Brother Burge, with tender enthusiasm.
+"All in a glow it was, and he patted me on the shoulder and says, 'I'll
+send you on a week's mission to Duncombe,' he says, and 'you shall stop
+with Brother Higgs who 'as a shop full o' cunning wrought vanities in
+silver and gold.'"
+
+"But suppose," said the jeweller, finding his voice by a great effort,
+"suppose victory is not given unto you."
+
+"It won't make any difference," replied his visitor.  "Brother Clark
+promised that it shouldn't.  'If you fall, Brother,' he says, 'we'll help
+you up again.  When you are tired of sin come back to us--there's always
+a welcome.'"
+
+"But--" began the dismayed jeweller.
+
+"We can only do our best," said Brother Burge, "the rest we must leave.
+I 'ave girded my loins for the fray, and taken much spiritual sustenance
+on the way down from this little hymn-book."
+
+Mr. Higgs paid no heed.  He sat marvelling over the fatuousness of
+Brother Clark and trying to think of ways and means out of the dilemma
+into which that gentleman's perverted enthusiasm had placed him.  He
+wondered whether it would be possible to induce Brother Burge to sleep
+elsewhere by offering to bear his hotel expenses, and at last, after some
+hesitation, broached the subject.
+
+"What!" exclaimed the other, pushing his plate from him and regarding him
+with great severity.  "Go and sleep at a hotel?  After Brother Clark has
+been and took all this trouble?  Why, I wouldn't think of doing such a
+thing."
+
+"Brother Clark has no right to expose you to such a trial," said Mr.
+Higgs with great warmth.
+
+"I wonder what he'd say if he 'eard you," remarked Mr. Burge sternly.
+"After his going and making all these arrangements, for you to try and go
+and upset 'em.  To ask me to shun the fight like a coward; to ask me to
+go and hide in the rear-ranks in a hotel with everything locked up, or a
+Coffer Pallis with nothing to steal."
+
+"I should sleep far more comfortably if I knew that you were not
+undergoing this tremendous strain," said the unhappy Mr. Higgs, "and
+besides that, if you did give way, it would be a serious business for me
+--that's what I want you to look at.  I am afraid that if--if unhappily
+you did fall, I couldn't prevent you."
+
+"I'm sure you couldn't," said the other cordially.  "That's the beauty of
+it; that's when the Evil One's whispers get louder and louder.  Why, I
+could choke you between my finger and thumb.  If unfortunately my fallen
+nature should be too strong for me, don't interfere whatever you do.  I
+mightn't be myself."
+
+Mr. Higgs rose and faced him gasping.
+
+"Not even--call for--the police--I suppose," he jerked out.
+
+"That would be interfering," said Brother Burge coldly.
+
+The jeweller tried to think.  It was past eleven.  The housekeeper had
+gone to spend the night with an ailing sister, and a furtive glance at
+Brother Burge's small shifty eyes and fat unwholesome face was sufficient
+to deter him from leaving him alone with his property, while he went to
+ask the police to give an eye to his house for the night.  Besides, it
+was more than probable that Mr. Burge would decline to allow such a
+proceeding.  With a growing sense of his peril he resolved to try
+flattery.
+
+"It was a great thing for the Brethren to secure a man like you," he
+said.
+
+"I never thought they'd ha' done it," said Mr. Burge frankly.  "I've 'ad
+all sorts trying to convert me; crying over me and praying over me.  I
+remember the first dear good man that called me a lorst lamb.  He didn't
+say anything else for a month."
+
+"So upset," hazarded the jeweller.
+
+"I broke his jor, pore feller," said Brother Burge, a sad but withal
+indulgent smile lighting up his face at the vagaries of his former
+career.  "What time do you go to bed, Brother?"
+
+"Any time," said the other reluctantly.  "I suppose you are tired with
+your journey?"
+
+Mr. Burge assented, and rising from his chair yawned loudly and stretched
+himself.  In the small room with his huge arms raised he looked colossal.
+
+"I suppose," said the jeweller, still seeking to re-assure himself, "I
+suppose dear Brother Clark felt pretty certain of you, else he wouldn't
+have sent you here?"
+
+"Brother Clark said 'What is a jeweller's shop compared with a 'uman
+soul, a priceless 'uman soul?'" replied Mr. Burge.  "What is a few
+gew-gaws to decorate them that perish, and make them vain, when you come
+to consider the opportunity of such a trial, and the good it'll do and
+the draw it'll be--if I do win--and testify to the congregation to that
+effect?  Why, there's sermons for a lifetime in it."
+
+"So there is," said the jeweller, trying to look cheerful.  "You've got a
+good face, Brother Burge, and you'll do a lot of good by your preaching.
+There is honesty written in every feature."
+
+Mr. Burge turned and surveyed himself in the small pier-glass.  "Yes," he
+said, somewhat discontentedly, "I don't look enough like a burglar to
+suit some of 'em."
+
+"Some people are hard to please," said the other warmly.
+
+Mr. Burge started and eyed him thoughtfully, and then as Mr. Higgs after
+some hesitation walked into the shop to turn the gas out, stood in the
+doorway watching him.  A smothered sigh as he glanced round the shop bore
+witness to the state of his feelings.
+
+The jeweller hesitated again in the parlour, and then handing Brother
+Burge his candle turned out the gas, and led the way slowly upstairs to
+the room which had been prepared for the honoured visitor.  He shook
+hands at the door and bade him an effusive good-night, his voice
+trembling despite himself as he expressed a hope that Mr. Burge would
+sleep well.  He added casually that he himself was a very light sleeper.
+
+To-night sleep of any kind was impossible.  He had given up the front
+room to his guest, and his own window looked out on an over-grown garden.
+He sat trying to read, with his ears alert for the slightest sound.
+Brother Burge seemed to be a long time undressing.  For half an hour
+after he had retired he could hear him moving restlessly about his room.
+
+Twelve o'clock struck from the tower of the parish church, and was
+followed almost directly by the tall clock standing in the hall
+down-stairs.  Scarcely had the sounds died away than a low moaning from
+the next room caused the affrighted jeweller to start from his chair and
+place his ear against the wall.  Two or three hollow groans came through
+the plaster, followed by ejaculations which showed clearly that Brother
+Burge was at that moment engaged in a terrified combat with the Powers
+of Darkness to decide whether he should, or should not, rifle his host's
+shop.  His hands clenched and his ear pressed close to the wall, the
+jeweller listened to a monologue which increased in interest with every
+word.
+
+"I tell you I won't," said the voice in the next room with a groan, "I
+won't.  Get thee behind me--Get thee--No, and don't shove me over to the
+door; if you can't get behind me without doing that, stay where you are.
+Yes, I know it's a fortune as well as what you do; but it ain't mine."
+
+The listener caught his breath painfully.
+
+"Diamond rings," continued Brother Burge in a suffocating voice.  "Stop
+it, I tell you.  No, I won't just go and look at 'em."
+
+A series of groans which the jeweller noticed to his horror got weaker
+and weaker testified to the greatness of the temptation.  He heard
+Brother Burge rise, and then a succession of panting snarls seemed to
+indicate a fierce bodily encounter.
+
+"I don't--want to look at 'em," said Brother Burge in an exhausted voice.
+"What's--the good of--looking at 'em?  It's like you, you know diamonds
+are my weakness.  What does it matter if he is asleep?  What's my knife
+got to do with you?"
+
+Brother Higgs reeled back and a mist passed before his eyes.  He came to
+himself at the sound of a door opening, and impelled with a vague idea of
+defending his property, snatched up his candle and looked out on to the
+landing.
+
+The light fell on Brother Burge, fully dressed and holding his boots in
+his hand.  For a moment they gazed at each other in silence; then the
+jeweller found his voice.
+
+"I thought you were ill, Brother," he faltered.
+
+An ugly scowl lit up the other's features.  "Don't you tell me any of
+your lies," he said fiercely.  "You're watching me; that's what you're
+doing.  Spying on me."
+
+"I thought that you were being tempted," confessed the trembling Mr.
+Higgs.
+
+An expression of satisfaction which he strove to suppress appeared on Mr.
+Burge's face.
+
+"So I was," he said sternly.  "So I was; but that's my business.  I don't
+want your assistance; I can fight my own battles.  You go to bed--I'm
+going to tell the congregation I won the fight single-'anded."
+
+"So you have, Brother," said the other eagerly; "but it's doing me good
+to see it.  It's a lesson to me; a lesson to all of us the way you
+wrestled."
+
+"I thought you was asleep," growled Brother Burge, turning back to his
+room and speaking over his shoulder.  "You get back to bed; the fight
+ain't half over yet.  Get back to bed and keep quiet."
+
+The door closed behind him, and Mr. Higgs, still trembling, regained his
+room and looked in agony at the clock.  It was only half-past twelve and
+the sun did not rise until six.  He sat and shivered until a second
+instalment of groans in the next room brought him in desperation to his
+feet.
+
+Brother Burge was in the toils again, and the jeweller despite his fears
+could not help realizing what a sensation the story of his temptation
+would create.  Brother Burge was now going round and round his room like
+an animal in a cage, and sounds as of a soul wrought almost beyond
+endurance smote upon the listener's quivering ear.  Then there was a long
+silence more alarming even than the noise of the conflict.  Had Brother
+Burge won, and was he now sleeping the sleep of the righteous, or----
+Mr. Higgs shivered and put his other ear to the wall.  Then he heard his
+guest move stealthily across the floor; the boards creaked and the handle
+of the door turned.
+
+Mr. Higgs started, and with a sudden flash of courage born of anger and
+desperation seized a small brass poker from the fire-place, and taking
+the candle in his other hand went out on to the landing again.  Brother
+Burge was closing his door softly, and his face when he turned it upon
+the jeweller was terrible in its wrath.  His small eyes snapped with
+fury, and his huge hands opened and shut convulsively.
+
+"What, agin!" he said in a low growl.  "After all I told you!"
+
+Mr. Higgs backed slowly as he advanced.
+
+"No noise," said Mr. Burge in a dreadful whisper.  "One scream and I'll--
+What were you going to do with that poker?"
+
+He took a stealthy step forward.
+
+"I--I," began the jeweller.  His voice failed him.  "Burglars," he
+mouthed, "downstairs."
+
+"What?" said the other, pausing.
+
+Mr. Higgs threw truth to the winds. "I heard them in the shop," he said,
+recovering, "that's why I took up the poker.  Can't you hear them?"
+
+Mr. Burge listened for the fraction of a second.  "Nonsense," he said
+huskily.
+
+"I heard them talking," said the other recklessly.  "Let's go down and
+call the police."
+
+"Call 'em from the winder," said Brother Burge, backing with some haste,
+"they might 'ave pistols or something, and they're ugly customers when
+they're disturbed."
+
+He stood with strained face listening.
+
+"Here they come," whispered the jeweller with a sudden movement of alarm.
+
+Brother Burge turned, and bolting into his room clapped the door to and
+locked it.  The jeweller stood dumbfounded on the landing; then he heard
+the window go up and the voice of Brother Burge, much strengthened by the
+religious exercises of the past six months, bellowing lustily for the
+police.
+
+For a few seconds Mr. Higgs stood listening and wondering what
+explanation he should give.  Still thinking, he ran downstairs, and,
+throwing open the pantry window, unlocked the door leading into the shop
+and scattered a few of his cherished possessions about the floor.  By the
+time he had done this, people were already beating upon the street-door
+and exchanging hurried remarks with Mr. Burge at the window above.  The
+jeweller shot back the bolts, and half-a-dozen neighbours, headed by the
+butcher opposite, clad in his nightgown and armed with a cleaver, burst
+into the passage.  A constable came running up just as the pallid face of
+Brother Burge peered over the balusters.  The constable went upstairs
+three at a time, and twisting his hand in the ex-burglar's neck-cloth
+bore him backwards.
+
+"I've got one," he shouted.  "Come up and hold him while I look round."
+
+The butcher was beside him in a moment; Brother Burge struggling wildly,
+called loudly upon the name of Brother Higgs.
+
+"That's all right, constable," said the latter, "that's a friend of
+mine."
+
+"Friend o' yours, sir?" said the disappointed officer, still holding him.
+
+The jeweller nodded.  "Mr. Samuel Burge the Converted Burglar," he said
+mechanically.
+
+"Conver----" gasped the astonished constable.  "Converted burglar?
+Here!"
+
+"He is a preacher now," added Mr. Higgs.
+
+"Preacher?" retorted the constable.  "Why it's as plain as a pikestaff.
+Confederates: his part was to go down and let 'em in."
+
+Mr. Burge raised a piteous outcry.  "I hope you may be forgiven for them
+words," he cried piously.
+
+"What time did you go up to bed?" pursued the constable.
+
+"About half-past eleven," replied Mr. Higgs.
+
+The other grunted with satisfaction.  "And he's fully dressed, with his
+boots off," he remarked.  "Did you hear him go out of his room at all?"
+
+"He did go out," said the jeweller truth-fully, "but----"
+
+"I thought so," said the constable, turning to his prisoner with
+affectionate solicitude.  "Now you come along o' me.  Come quietly,
+because it'll be the best for you in the end."
+
+"You won't get your skull split open then," added the butcher, toying
+with his cleaver.
+
+The jeweller hesitated.  He had no desire to be left alone with Mr. Burge
+again; and a sense of humour, which many years' association with the
+Primitive Apostles had not quite eradicated, strove for hearing.
+
+"Think of the sermon it'll make," he said encouragingly to the frantic
+Mr. Burge, "think of the congregation!"
+
+Brother Burge replied in language which he had not used in public since
+he had joined the Apostles.  The butcher and another man stood guard over
+him while the constable searched the premises and made all secure again.
+Then with a final appeal to Mr. Higgs who was keeping in the background,
+he was pitched to the police-station by the energetic constable and five
+zealous assistants.
+
+A diffidence, natural in the circumstances, prevented him from narrating
+the story of his temptation to the magistrates next morning, and Mr.
+Higgs was equally reticent.  He was put back while the police
+communicated with London, and in the meantime Brother Clark and a band
+of Apostles flanked down to his support.
+
+On his second appearance before the magistrates he was confronted with
+his past; and his past to the great astonishment of the Brethren being
+free from all blemish with the solitary exception of fourteen days for
+stealing milk-cans, he was discharged with a caution.  The disillusioned
+Primitive Apostles also gave him his freedom.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER
+
+[Illustration: "The Madness of Mr. Lister."]
+
+Old Jem Lister, of the _Susannah,_ was possessed of two devils--the love
+of strong drink and avarice--and the only thing the twain had in common
+was to get a drink without paying for it.  When Mr. Lister paid for a
+drink, the demon of avarice masquerading as conscience preached a
+teetotal lecture, and when he showed signs of profiting by it, the demon
+of drink would send him hanging round public-house doors cadging for
+drinks in a way which his shipmates regarded as a slur upon the entire
+ship's company.  Many a healthy thirst reared on salt beef and tickled
+with strong tobacco had been spoiled by the sight of Mr. Lister standing
+by the entrance, with a propitiatory smile, waiting to be invited in to
+share it, and on one occasion they had even seen him (him, Jem Lister,
+A.B.) holding a horse's head, with ulterior motives.
+
+It was pointed out to Mr. Lister at last that his conduct was reflecting
+discredit upon men who were fully able to look after themselves in that
+direction, without having any additional burden thrust upon them.  Bill
+Henshaw was the spokesman, and on the score of violence (miscalled
+firmness) his remarks left little to be desired.  On the score of
+profanity, Bill might recall with pride that in the opinion of his
+fellows he had left nothing unsaid.
+
+"You ought to ha' been a member o' Parliament, Bill," said Harry Lea,
+when he had finished.
+
+"It wants money," said Henshaw, shaking his head.
+
+Mr. Lister laughed, a senile laugh, but not lacking in venom.
+
+"That's what we've got to say," said Henshaw, turning upon him suddenly.
+"If there's anything I hate in this world, it's a drinking miser.  You
+know our opinion, and the best thing you can do is to turn over a new
+leaf now."
+
+"Take us all in to the Goat and Compasses," urged Lea; "bring out some o'
+those sovrins you've been hoarding."
+
+Mr. Lister gazed at him with frigid scorn, and finding that the
+conversation still seemed to centre round his unworthy person, went up on
+deck and sat glowering over the insults which had been heaped upon him.
+His futile wrath when Bill dogged his footsteps ashore next day and
+revealed his character to a bibulous individual whom he had almost
+persuaded to be a Christian--from his point of view--bordered upon the
+maudlin, and he wandered back to the ship, wild-eyed and dry of throat.
+
+For the next two months it was safe to say that every drink he had he
+paid for.  His eyes got brighter and his complexion clearer, nor was
+he as pleased as one of the other sex might have been when the
+self-satisfied Henshaw pointed out these improvements to his companions,
+and claimed entire responsibility for them.  It is probable that Mr.
+Lister, under these circumstances, might in time have lived down his
+taste for strong drink, but that at just that time they shipped a new
+cook.
+
+He was a big, cadaverous young fellow, who looked too closely after his
+own interests to be much of a favourite with the other men forward.  On
+the score of thrift, it was soon discovered that he and Mr. Lister had
+much in common, and the latter, pleased to find a congenial spirit, was
+disposed to make the most of him, and spent, despite the heat, much of
+his spare time in the galley.
+
+"You keep to it," said the greybeard impressively; "money was made to be
+took care of; if you don't spend your money you've always got it.  I've
+always been a saving man--what's the result?"
+
+The cook, waiting some time in patience to be told, gently inquired what
+it was.
+
+"'Ere am I," said Mr. Lister, good-naturedly helping him to cut a
+cabbage, "at the age of sixty-two with a bank-book down below in my
+chest, with one hundered an' ninety pounds odd in it."
+
+"One 'undered and ninety pounds!" repeated the cook, with awe.
+
+"To say nothing of other things," continued Mr. Lister, with joyful
+appreciation of the effect he was producing.  "Altogether I've got a
+little over four 'undered pounds."
+
+The cook gasped, and with gentle firmness took the cabbage from him as
+being unfit work for a man of such wealth.
+
+"It's very nice," he said, slowly.  "It's very nice.  You'll be able to
+live on it in your old age."
+
+Mr. Lister shook his head mournfully, and his eyes became humid.
+
+"There's no old age for me," he said, sadly; "but you needn't tell them,"
+and he jerked his thumb towards the forecastle.
+
+"No, no," said the cook.
+
+"I've never been one to talk over my affairs," said Mr. Lister, in a low
+voice.  "I've never yet took fancy enough to anybody so to do.  No, my
+lad, I'm saving up for somebody else."
+
+"What are you going to live on when you're past work then?" demanded the
+other.
+
+Mr. Lister took him gently by the sleeve, and his voice sank with the
+solemnity of his subject: "I'm not going to have no old age," he said,
+resignedly.
+
+"Not going to live!" repeated the cook, gazing uneasily at a knife by his
+side.  "How do you know?"
+
+"I went to a orsepittle in London," said Mr. Lister.  "I've been to two
+or three altogether, while the money I've spent on doctors is more than I
+like to think of, and they're all surprised to think that I've lived so
+long.  I'm so chock-full o' complaints, that they tell me I can't live
+more than two years, and I might go off at any moment."
+
+"Well, you've got money," said the cook, "why don't you knock off work
+now and spend the evenin' of your life ashore?  Why should you save up
+for your relatives?"
+
+"I've got no relatives," said Mr. Lister; "I'm all alone.  I 'spose I
+shall leave my money to some nice young feller, and I hope it'll do 'im
+good."
+
+With the dazzling thoughts which flashed through the cook's brain the
+cabbage dropped violently into the saucepan, and a shower of cooling
+drops fell on both men.
+
+"I 'spose you take medicine?" he said, at length.
+
+"A little rum," said Mr. Lister, faintly; "the doctors tell me that it is
+the only thing that keeps me up--o' course, the chaps down there "--he
+indicated the forecastle again with a jerk of his head--"accuse me o'
+taking too much."
+
+"What do ye take any notice of 'em for?" inquired the other, indignantly.
+
+"I 'spose it is foolish," admitted Mr. Lister; "but I don't like being
+misunderstood.  I keep my troubles to myself as a rule, cook.  I don't
+know what's made me talk to you like this.  I 'eard the other day you was
+keeping company with a young woman."
+
+"Well, I won't say as I ain't," replied the other, busying himself over
+the fire.
+
+"An' the best thing, too, my lad," said the old man, warmly.  "It keeps
+you stiddy, keeps you out of public-'ouses; not as they ain't good in
+moderation--I 'ope you'll be 'appy."
+
+A friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled the remainder
+of the crew not a little.
+
+The cook thanked him, and noticed that Mr. Lister was fidgeting with a
+piece of paper.
+
+"A little something I wrote the other day," said the old man, catching
+his eye.  "If I let you see it, will you promise not to tell a soul about
+it, and not to give me no thanks?"
+
+The wondering cook promised, and, the old man being somewhat emphatic on
+the subject, backed his promise with a home made affidavit of singular
+power and profanity.
+
+"Here it is, then," said Mr. Lister.
+
+The cook took the paper, and as he read the letters danced before him.
+He blinked his eyes and started again, slowly.  In plain black and white
+and nondescript-coloured finger-marks, Mr. Lister, after a general
+statement as to his bodily and mental health, left the whole of his
+estate to the cook.  The will was properly dated and witnessed, and the
+cook's voice shook with excitement and emotion as he offered to hand it
+back.
+
+"I don't know what I've done for you to do this," he said.
+
+Mr. Lister waved it away again.  "Keep it," he said, simply; "while
+you've got it on you, you'll know it's safe."
+
+From this moment a friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled
+the remainder of the crew not a little.  The attitude of the cook was as
+that of a son to a father: the benignancy of Mr. Lister beautiful to
+behold.  It was noticed, too, that he had abandoned the reprehensible
+practice of hanging round tavern doors in favour of going inside and
+drinking the cook's health.
+
+[Illustration: "A friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled
+the remainder of the crew not a little."]
+
+For about six months the cook, although always in somewhat straitened
+circumstances, was well content with the tacit bargain, and then, bit by
+bit, the character of Mr. Lister was revealed to him.  It was not a nice
+character, but subtle; and when he made the startling discovery that a
+will could be rendered invalid by the simple process of making another
+one the next day, he became as a man possessed.  When he ascertained that
+Mr. Lister when at home had free quarters at the house of a married
+niece, he used to sit about alone, and try and think of ways and means of
+securing capital sunk in a concern which seemed to show no signs of being
+wound-up.
+
+"I've got a touch of the 'art again, lad," said the elderly invalid, as
+they sat alone in the forecastle one night at Seacole.
+
+"You move about too much," said the cook.  "Why not turn in and rest?"
+
+Mr. Lister, who had not expected this, fidgeted.  "I think I'll go ashore
+a bit and try the air," he said, suggestively.  "I'll just go as far as
+the Black Horse and back.  You won't have me long now, my lad."
+
+"No, I know," said the cook; "that's what's worrying me a bit."
+"Don't worry about me," said the old man, pausing with his hand on the
+other's shoulder; "I'm not worth it.  Don't look so glum, lad."
+
+"I've got something on my mind, Jem," said the cook, staring straight in
+front of him.
+
+"What is it?" inquired Mr. Lister.
+
+"You know what you told me about those pains in your inside?" said the
+cook, without looking at him.
+
+Jem groaned and felt his side.
+
+"And what you said about its being a relief to die," continued the other,
+"only you was afraid to commit suicide?"
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Lister.
+
+"It used to worry me," continued the cook, earnestly.  "I used to say to
+myself, 'Poor old Jem,' I ses, 'why should 'e suffer like this when he
+wants to die?  It seemed 'ard.'"
+
+"It is 'ard," said Mr. Lister, "but what about it?"
+
+The other made no reply, but looking at him for the first time, surveyed
+him with a troubled expression.
+
+"What about it?" repeated Mr. Lister, with some emphasis.
+
+"You did say you wanted to die, didn't you?"  said the cook.  "Now
+suppose suppose----"
+
+"Suppose what?" inquired the old man, sharply.  "Why don't you say what
+you're agoing to say?"
+
+"Suppose," said the cook, "some one what liked you, Jem--what liked you,
+mind--'eard you say this over and over again, an' see you sufferin' and
+'eard you groanin' and not able to do nothin' for you except lend you a
+few shillings here and there for medicine, or stand you a few glasses o'
+rum; suppose they knew a chap in a chemist's shop?"
+
+"Suppose they did?" said the other, turning pale.
+
+"A chap what knows all about p'isons," continued the cook, "p'isons what
+a man can take without knowing it in 'is grub.  Would it be wrong, do you
+think, if that friend I was speaking about put it in your food to put you
+out of your misery?"
+
+"Wrong," said Mr. Lister, with glassy eyes.  "Wrong.  Look 'ere, cook--"
+
+"I don't mean anything to give him pain," said the other, waving his
+hand; "you ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you, Jem?"
+
+"Do you mean to say," shouted Mr. Lister.
+
+"I don't mean to say anything," said the cook.  "Answer my question.  You
+ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you?"
+
+"Have--you--been--putting--p'ison--in--my--wittles?" demanded Mr. Lister,
+in trembling accents.
+
+"If I 'ad, Jem, supposin' that I 'ad," said the cook, in accents of
+reproachful surprise, "do you mean to say that you'd mind?"
+
+"MIND," said Mr. Lister, with fervour.  "I'd 'ave you 'ung!"
+
+"But you said you wanted to die," said the surprised cook.
+
+Mr. Lister swore at him with startling vigour.  "I'll 'ave you 'ung," he
+repeated, wildly.
+
+"Me," said the cook, artlessly.  "What for?"
+
+"For giving me p'ison," said Mr. Lister, frantically.  "Do you think you
+can deceive me by your roundabouts?  Do you think I can't see through
+you?"
+
+The other with a sphinx-like smile sat unmoved.  "Prove it," he said,
+darkly.  "But supposin' if anybody 'ad been givin' you p'ison, would you
+like to take something to prevent its acting?"
+
+"I'd take gallons of it," said Mr. Lister, feverishly.
+
+The other sat pondering, while the old man watched him anxiously.  "It's
+a pity you don't know your own mind, Jem," he said, at length; "still,
+you know your own business best.  But it's very expensive stuff."
+
+"How much?" inquired the other.
+
+"Well, they won't sell more than two shillings-worth at a time," said the
+cook, trying to speak carelessly, "but if you like to let me 'ave the
+money, I'll go ashore to the chemist's and get the first lot now."
+
+Mr. Lister's face was a study in emotions, which the other tried in vain
+to decipher.
+
+Then he slowly extracted the amount from his trousers-pocket, and handed
+it over with-out a word.
+
+"I'll go at once," said the cook, with a little feeling, "and I'll never
+take a man at his word again, Jem."
+
+He ran blithely up on deck, and stepping ashore, spat on the coins for
+luck and dropped them in his pocket.  Down below, Mr. Lister, with his
+chin in his hand, sat in a state of mind pretty evenly divided between
+rage and fear.
+
+The cook, who was in no mood for company, missed the rest of the crew by
+two public-houses, and having purchased a baby's teething powder and
+removed the label, had a congratulatory drink or two before going on
+board again.  A chatter of voices from the forecastle warned him that the
+crew had returned, but the tongues ceased abruptly as he descended, and
+three pairs of eyes surveyed him in grim silence.
+
+"What's up?" he demanded.
+
+"Wot 'ave you been doin' to poor old Jem?" demanded Henshaw, sternly.
+
+"Nothin'," said the other, shortly.
+
+"You ain't been p'isoning 'im?" demanded Henshaw.
+
+"Certainly not," said the cook, emphatically.
+
+"He ses you told 'im you p'isoned 'im," said Henshaw, solemnly, "and 'e
+give you two shillings to get something to cure 'im.  It's too late now."
+
+"What?" stammered the bewildered cook.  He looked round anxiously at the
+men.
+
+They were all very grave, and the silence became oppressive.
+"Where is he?" he demanded.
+
+Henshaw and the others exchanged glances.  "He's gone mad," said he,
+slowly.
+
+"Mad?" repeated the horrified cook, and, seeing the aversion of the crew,
+in a broken voice he narrated the way in which he had been victimized.
+
+"Well, you've done it now," said Henshaw, when he had finished.  "He's
+gone right orf 'is 'ed."
+
+"Where is he?" inquired the cook.
+
+"Where you can't follow him," said the other, slowly.
+
+"Heaven?" hazarded the unfortunate cook.  "No; skipper's bunk," said Lea.
+
+"Oh, can't I foller 'im?" said the cook, starting up.  "I'll soon 'ave
+'im out o' that."
+
+"Better leave 'im alone," said Henshaw.  "He was that wild we couldn't do
+nothing with 'im, singing an' larfin' and crying all together--I
+certainly thought he was p'isoned."
+
+"I'll swear I ain't touched him," said the cook.
+
+"Well, you've upset his reason," said Henshaw; "there'll be an awful row
+when the skipper comes aboard and finds 'im in 'is bed.
+
+"'Well, come an' 'elp me to get 'im out," said the cook.
+
+"I ain't going to be mixed up in it," said Henshaw, shaking his head.
+
+"Don't you, Bill," said the other two.
+
+"Wot the skipper'll say I don't know," said Henshaw; "anyway, it'll be
+said to you, not----"
+
+"I'll go and get 'im out if 'e was five madmen," said the cook,
+compressing his lips.
+
+"You'll harve to carry 'im out, then," said Henshaw.  "I don't wish you
+no 'arm, cook, and perhaps it would be as well to get 'im out afore the
+skipper or mate comes aboard.  If it was me, I know what I should do."
+
+"What?" inquired the cook, breathlessly.
+
+"Draw a sack over his head," said Henshaw, impressively; "he'll scream
+like blazes as soon as you touch him, and rouse the folks ashore if you
+don't.  Besides that, if you draw it well down it'll keep his arms fast."
+
+The cook thanked him fervently, and routing out a sack, rushed hastily on
+deck, his departure being the signal for Mr. Henshaw and his friends to
+make preparations for retiring for the night so hastily as almost to
+savour of panic.
+
+The cook, after a hasty glance ashore, went softly below with the sack
+over his arm and felt his way in the darkness to the skipper's bunk.  The
+sound of deep and regular breathing reassured him, and without undue
+haste he opened the mouth of the sack and gently raised the sleeper's
+head.
+
+"Eh?  Wha----" began a sleepy voice.
+
+The next moment the cook had bagged him, and gripping him tightly round
+the middle, turned a deaf ear to the smothered cries of his victim as he
+strove to lift him out of the bunk.  In the exciting time which followed,
+he had more than one reason for thinking that he had caught a centipede.
+
+"Now, you keep still," he cried, breathlessly.  "I'm not going to hurt
+you."
+
+He got his burden out of bed at last, and staggered to the foot of the
+companion-ladder with it.  Then there was a halt, two legs sticking
+obstinately across the narrow way and refusing to be moved, while a
+furious humming proceeded from the other end of the sack.
+
+Four times did the exhausted cook get his shoulder under his burden and
+try and push it up the ladder, and four times did it wriggle and fight
+its way down again.  Half crazy with fear and rage, he essayed it for the
+fifth time, and had got it half-way up when there was a sudden
+exclamation of surprise from above, and the voice of the mate sharply
+demanding an explanation.
+
+"What the blazes are you up to?" he cried.
+
+"It's all right, sir," said the panting cook; "old Jem's had a drop too
+much and got down aft, and I'm getting 'im for'ard again."
+
+"Jem?" said the astonished mate.  "Why, he's sitting up here on the
+fore-hatch.  He came aboard with me."
+
+"Sitting," began the horrified cook; "sit--oh, lor!"
+
+He stood with his writhing burden wedged between his body and the ladder,
+and looked up despairingly at the mate.
+
+"I'm afraid I've made a mistake," he said in a trembling voice.
+
+The mate struck a match and looked down.
+
+"Take that sack off," he demanded, sternly.
+
+The cook placed his burden upon its feet, and running up the ladder stood
+by the mate shivering.  The latter struck another match, and the twain
+watched in breathless silence the writhings of the strange creature below
+as the covering worked slowly upwards.  In the fourth match it got free,
+and revealed the empurpled visage of the master of the _Susannah_.  For
+the fraction of a second the cook gazed at him in speechless horror, and
+then, with a hopeless cry, sprang ashore and ran for it, hotly pursued by
+his enraged victim.  At the time of sailing he was still absent, and the
+skipper, loth to part two such friends, sent Mr. James Lister, at the
+urgent request of the anxious crew, to look for him.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WHITE CAT
+
+[Illustration: "The White Cat."]
+
+The traveller stood looking from the tap-room window of the _Cauliflower_
+at the falling rain.  The village street below was empty, and everything
+was quiet with the exception of the garrulous old man smoking with much
+enjoyment on the settle behind him.
+
+"It'll do a power o' good," said the ancient, craning his neck round the
+edge of the settle and turning a bleared eye on the window.  "I ain't
+like some folk; I never did mind a drop o' rain."
+
+The traveller grunted and, returning to the settle opposite the old man,
+fell to lazily stroking a cat which had strolled in attracted by the
+warmth of the small fire which smouldered in the grate.
+
+"He's a good mouser," said the old man, "but I expect that Smith the
+landlord would sell 'im to anybody for arf a crown; but we 'ad a cat in
+Claybury once that you couldn't ha' bought for a hundred golden
+sovereigns."
+
+The traveller continued to caress the cat.
+
+"A white cat, with one yaller eye and one blue one," continued the old
+man.  "It sounds queer, but it's as true as I sit 'ere wishing that I 'ad
+another mug o' ale as good as the last you gave me."
+
+The traveller, with a start that upset the cat's nerves, finished his own
+mug, and then ordered both to be refilled.  He stirred the fire into a
+blaze, and, lighting his pipe and putting one foot on to the hob,
+prepared to listen.
+
+It used to belong to old man Clark, young Joe Clark's uncle, said the
+ancient, smacking his lips delicately over the ale and extending a
+tremulous claw to the tobacco-pouch pushed towards him; and he was never
+tired of showing it off to people.  He used to call it 'is blue-eyed
+darling, and the fuss 'e made o' that cat was sinful.
+
+Young Joe Clark couldn't bear it, but being down in 'is uncle's will for
+five cottages and a bit o' land bringing in about forty pounds a year, he
+'ad to 'ide his feelings and pretend as he loved it.  He used to take it
+little drops o' cream and tit-bits o' meat, and old Clark was so pleased
+that 'e promised 'im that he should 'ave the cat along with all the other
+property when 'e was dead.
+
+Young Joe said he couldn't thank 'im enough, and the old man, who 'ad
+been ailing a long time, made 'im come up every day to teach 'im 'ow to
+take care of it arter he was gone.  He taught Joe 'ow to cook its meat
+and then chop it up fine; 'ow it liked a clean saucer every time for its
+milk; and 'ow he wasn't to make a noise when it was asleep.
+
+"Take care your children don't worry it, Joe," he ses one day, very
+sharp.  "One o' your boys was pulling its tail this morning, and I want
+you to clump his 'ead for 'im."
+
+"Which one was it?" ses Joe.
+
+"The slobbery-nosed one," ses old Clark.
+
+"I'll give 'im a clout as soon as I get 'ome," ses Joe, who was very fond
+of 'is children.
+
+"Go and fetch 'im and do it 'ere," ses the old man; "that'll teach 'im to
+love animals."
+
+Joe went off 'ome to fetch the boy, and arter his mother 'ad washed his
+face, and wiped his nose, an' put a clean pinneyfore on 'im, he took 'im
+to 'is uncle's and clouted his 'ead for 'im.  Arter that Joe and 'is wife
+'ad words all night long, and next morning old Clark, coming in from the
+garden, was just in time to see 'im kick the cat right acrost the
+kitchen.
+
+He could 'ardly speak for a minute, and when 'e could Joe see plain wot a
+fool he'd been.  Fust of all 'e called Joe every name he could think of--
+which took 'im a long time--and then he ordered 'im out of 'is house.
+
+"You shall 'ave my money wen your betters have done with it," he ses,
+"and not afore.  That's all you've done for yourself."
+
+Joe Clark didn't know wot he meant at the time, but when old Clark died
+three months arterwards 'e found out.  His uncle 'ad made a new will and
+left everything to old George Barstow for as long as the cat lived,
+providing that he took care of it.  When the cat was dead the property
+was to go to Joe.
+
+The cat was only two years old at the time, and George Barstow, who was
+arf crazy with joy, said it shouldn't be 'is fault if it didn't live
+another twenty years.
+
+The funny thing was the quiet way Joe Clark took it.  He didn't seem to
+be at all cut up about it, and when Henery Walker said it was a shame,
+'e said he didn't mind, and that George Barstow was a old man, and he was
+quite welcome to 'ave the property as long as the cat lived.
+
+"It must come to me by the time I'm an old man," he ses, "ard that's all
+I care about."
+
+Henery Walker went off, and as 'e passed the cottage where old Clark used
+to live, and which George Barstow 'ad moved into, 'e spoke to the old man
+over the palings and told 'im wot Joe Clark 'ad said.  George Barstow
+only grunted and went on stooping and prying over 'is front garden.
+
+"Bin and lost something?" ses Henery Walker, watching 'im.
+
+"No; I'm finding," ses George Barstow, very fierce, and picking up
+something.  "That's the fifth bit o' powdered liver I've found in my
+garden this morning."
+
+Henery Walker went off whistling, and the opinion he'd 'ad o' Joe Clark
+began to improve.  He spoke to Joe about it that arternoon, and Joe said
+that if 'e ever accused 'im o' such a thing again he'd knock 'is 'ead
+off.  He said that he 'oped the cat 'ud live to be a hundred, and that
+'e'd no more think of giving it poisoned meat than Henery Walker would of
+paying for 'is drink so long as 'e could get anybody else to do it for
+'im.
+
+They 'ad bets up at this 'ere _Cauliflower_ public-'ouse that evening as to
+'ow long that cat 'ud live.  Nobody gave it more than a month, and Bill
+Chambers sat and thought o' so many ways o' killing it on the sly that it
+was wunnerful to hear 'im.
+
+George Barstow took fright when he 'eard of them, and the care 'e took o'
+that cat was wunnerful to behold.  Arf its time it was shut up in the
+back bedroom, and the other arf George Barstow was fussing arter it till
+that cat got to hate 'im like pison.  Instead o' giving up work as he'd
+thought to do, 'e told Henery Walker that 'e'd never worked so 'ard in
+his life.
+
+"Wot about fresh air and exercise for it?" ses Henery.
+
+"Wot about Joe Clark?" ses George Bar-stow.  "I'm tied 'and and foot.  I
+dursent leave the house for a moment.  I ain't been to the _Cauliflower_
+since I've 'ad it, and three times I got out o' bed last night to see if
+it was safe."
+
+"Mark my words," ses Henery Walker; "if that cat don't 'ave exercise,
+you'll lose it.
+
+"I shall lose it if it does 'ave exercise," ses George Barstow, "that I
+know."
+
+He sat down thinking arter Henery Walker 'ad gone, and then he 'ad a
+little collar and chain made for it, and took it out for a walk.  Pretty
+nearly every dog in Claybury went with 'em, and the cat was in such a
+state o' mind afore they got 'ome he couldn't do anything with it.  It
+'ad a fit as soon as they got indoors, and George Barstow, who 'ad read
+about children's fits in the almanac, gave it a warm bath.  It brought it
+round immediate, and then it began to tear round the room and up and
+downstairs till George Barstow was afraid to go near it.
+
+[Illustration: "He 'ad a little collar and chain made for it, and took it
+out for a walk."]
+
+It was so bad that evening, sneezing, that George Barstow sent for Bill
+Chambers, who'd got a good name for doctoring animals, and asked 'im to
+give it something.  Bill said he'd got some powders at 'ome that would
+cure it at once, and he went and fetched 'em and mixed one up with a bit
+o' butter.
+
+"That's the way to give a cat medicine," he ses; "smear it with the
+butter and then it'll lick it off, powder and all."
+
+He was just going to rub it on the cat when George Barstow caught 'old of
+'is arm and stopped 'im.
+
+"How do I know it ain't pison?" he ses.  "You're a friend o' Joe Clark's,
+and for all I know he may ha' paid you to pison it."
+
+"I wouldn't do such a thing," ses Bill.  "You ought to know me better
+than that."
+
+"All right," ses George Barstow; "you eat it then, and I'll give you two
+shillings in stead o' one.  You can easy mix some more."
+
+"Not me," ses Bill Chambers, making a face.
+
+"Well, three shillings, then," ses George Barstow, getting more and more
+suspicious like; "four shillings--five shillings."
+
+Bill Chambers shook his 'ead, and George Barstow, more and more certain
+that he 'ad caught 'im trying to kill 'is cat and that 'e wouldn't eat
+the stuff, rose 'im up to ten shillings.
+
+Bill looked at the butter and then 'e looked at the ten shillings on the
+table, and at last he shut 'is eyes and gulped it down and put the money
+in 'is pocket.
+
+"You see, I 'ave to be careful, Bill," ses George Barstow, rather upset.
+
+Bill Chambers didn't answer 'im.  He sat there as white as a sheet, and
+making such extraordinary faces that George was arf afraid of 'im.
+
+"Anything wrong, Bill?" he ses at last.
+
+Bill sat staring at 'im, and then all of a sudden he clapped 'is
+'andkerchief to 'is mouth and, getting up from his chair, opened the door
+and rushed out.  George Barstow thought at fust that he 'ad eaten pison
+for the sake o' the ten shillings, but when 'e remembered that Bill
+Chambers 'ad got the most delikit stummick in Claybury he altered 'is
+mind.
+
+The cat was better next morning, but George Barstow had 'ad such a fright
+about it 'e wouldn't let it go out of 'is sight, and Joe Clark began to
+think that 'e would 'ave to wait longer for that property than 'e had
+thought, arter all.  To 'ear 'im talk anybody'd ha' thought that 'e loved
+that cat.  We didn't pay much attention to it up at the _Cauliflower_
+'ere, except maybe to wink at 'im--a thing he couldn't a bear--but at
+'ome, o' course, his young 'uns thought as everything he said was
+Gospel; and one day, coming 'ome from work, as he was passing George
+Barstow's he was paid out for his deceitfulness.
+
+"I've wronged you, Joe Clark," ses George Barstow, coming to the door,
+"and I'm sorry for it."
+
+"Oh!" ses Joe, staring.
+
+"Give that to your little Jimmy," ses George Barstow, giving 'im a
+shilling.  "I've give 'im one, but I thought arterwards it wasn't
+enough."
+
+"What for?" ses Joe, staring at 'im agin.
+
+"For bringing my cat 'ome," ses George Barstow.  "'Ow it got out I can't
+think, but I lost it for three hours, and I'd about given it up when your
+little Jimmy brought it to me in 'is arms.  He's a fine little chap and
+'e does you credit."
+
+Joe Clark tried to speak, but he couldn't get a word out, and Henery
+Walker, wot 'ad just come up and 'eard wot passed, took hold of 'is arm
+and helped 'im home.  He walked like a man in a dream, but arf-way he
+stopped and cut a stick from the hedge to take 'ome to little Jimmy.  He
+said the boy 'ad been asking him for a stick for some time, but up till
+then 'e'd always forgotten it.
+
+At the end o' the fust year that cat was still alive, to everybody's
+surprise; but George Barstow took such care of it 'e never let it out of
+'is sight.  Every time 'e went out he took it with 'im in a hamper, and,
+to prevent its being pisoned, he paid Isaac Sawyer, who 'ad the biggest
+family in Claybury, sixpence a week to let one of 'is boys taste its milk
+before it had it.
+
+The second year it was ill twice, but the horse-doctor that George
+Barstow got for it said that it was as 'ard as nails, and with care it
+might live to be twenty.  He said that it wanted more fresh air and
+exercise; but when he 'eard 'ow George Barstow come by it he said that
+p'r'aps it would live longer indoors arter all.
+
+At last one day, when George Barstow 'ad been living on the fat o' the
+land for nearly three years, that cat got out agin.  George 'ad raised
+the front-room winder two or three inches to throw something outside,
+and, afore he knew wot was 'appening, the cat was out-side and going up
+the road about twenty miles an hour.
+
+George Barstow went arter it, but he might as well ha' tried to catch the
+wind.  The cat was arf wild with joy at getting out agin, and he couldn't
+get within arf a mile of it.
+
+He stayed out all day without food or drink, follering it about until it
+came on dark, and then, o' course, he lost sight of it, and, hoping
+against 'ope that it would come home for its food, he went 'ome and
+waited for it.  He sat up all night dozing in a chair in the front room
+with the door left open, but it was all no use; and arter thinking for a
+long time wot was best to do, he went out and told some o' the folks it
+was lost and offered a reward of five pounds for it.
+
+You never saw such a hunt then in all your life.  Nearly every man,
+woman, and child in Claybury left their work or school and went to try
+and earn that five pounds.  By the arternoon George Barstow made it ten
+pounds provided the cat was brought 'ome safe and sound, and people as
+was too old to walk stood at their cottage doors to snap it up as it came
+by.
+
+Joe Clark was hunting for it 'igh and low, and so was 'is wife and the
+boys.  In fact, I b'lieve that everybody in Claybury excepting the parson
+and Bob Pretty was trying to get that ten pounds.
+
+O' course, we could understand the parson--'is pride wouldn't let 'im;
+but a low, poaching, thieving rascal like Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose
+at ten pounds was more than we could make out.  Even on the second day,
+when George Barstow made it ten pounds down and a shilling a week for a
+year besides, he didn't offer to stir; all he did was to try and make fun
+o' them as was looking for it.
+
+"Have you looked everywhere you can think of for it, Bill?" he ses to
+Bill Chambers.  "Yes, I 'ave," ses Bill.
+
+"Well, then, you want to look everywhere else," ses Bob Pretty.  "I know
+where I should look if I wanted to find it."
+
+"Why don't you find it, then?" ses Bill.
+
+"'Cos I don't want to make mischief," ses Bob Pretty.  "I don't want to
+be unneighbourly to Joe Clark by interfering at all."
+
+"Not for all that money?" ses Bill.
+
+"Not for fifty pounds," ses Bob Pretty; "you ought to know me better than
+that, Bill Chambers."
+
+"It's my belief that you know more about where that cat is than you ought
+to," ses Joe Gubbins.
+
+"You go on looking for it, Joe," ses Bob Pretty, grinning; "it's good
+exercise for you, and you've only lost two days' work."
+
+"I'll give you arf a crown if you let me search your 'ouse, Bob," ses
+Bill Chambers, looking at 'im very 'ard.
+
+"I couldn't do it at the price, Bill," ses Bob Pretty, shaking his 'ead.
+"I'm a pore man, but I'm very partikler who I 'ave come into my 'ouse."
+
+O' course, everybody left off looking at once when they heard about Bob--
+not that they believed that he'd be such a fool as to keep the cat in his
+'ouse; and that evening, as soon as it was dark, Joe Clark went round to
+see 'im.
+
+"Don't tell me as that cat's found, Joe," ses Bob Pretty, as Joe opened
+the door.
+
+"Not as I've 'eard of," said Joe, stepping inside.  "I wanted to speak to
+you about it; the sooner it's found the better I shall be pleased."
+
+"It does you credit, Joe Clark," ses Bob Pretty.
+
+"It's my belief that it's dead," ses Joe, looking at 'im very 'ard; "but
+I want to make sure afore taking over the property."
+
+Bob Pretty looked at 'im and then he gave a little cough.  "Oh, you want
+it to be found dead," he ses.  "Now, I wonder whether that cat's worth
+most dead or alive?"
+
+Joe Clark coughed then.  "Dead, I should think," he ses at last.
+"George Barstow's just 'ad bills printed offering fifteen pounds for it,"
+ses Bob Pretty.
+
+"I'll give that or more when I come into the property," ses Joe Clark.
+
+"There's nothing like ready-money, though, is there?" ses Bob.
+
+"I'll promise it to you in writing, Bob," ses Joe, trembling.
+
+"There's some things that don't look well in writing, Joe," says Bob
+Pretty, considering; "besides, why should you promise it to me?"
+
+"O' course, I meant if you found it," ses Joe.
+
+"Well, I'll do my best, Joe," ses Bob Pretty; "and none of us can do no
+more than that, can they?"
+
+They sat talking and argufying over it for over an hour, and twice Bob
+Pretty got up and said 'e was going to see whether George Barstow
+wouldn't offer more.  By the time they parted they was as thick as
+thieves, and next morning Bob Pretty was wearing Joe Clark's watch and
+chain, and Mrs. Pretty was up at Joe's 'ouse to see whether there was any
+of 'is furniture as she 'ad a fancy for.
+
+She didn't seem to be able to make up 'er mind at fust between a chest o'
+drawers that 'ad belonged to Joe's mother and a grand-father clock.  She
+walked from one to the other for about ten minutes, and then Bob, who 'ad
+come in to 'elp her, told 'er to 'ave both.
+
+"You're quite welcome," he ses; "ain't she, Joe?"
+
+Joe Clark said "Yes," and arter he 'ad helped them carry 'em 'ome the
+Prettys went back and took the best bedstead to pieces, cos Bob said as
+it was easier to carry that way.  Mrs. Clark 'ad to go and sit down at
+the bottom o' the garden with the neck of 'er dress undone to give
+herself air, but when she saw the little Prettys each walking 'ome with
+one of 'er best chairs on their 'eads she got and walked up and down like
+a mad thing.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know where we are to put it all," ses Bob Pretty to Joe
+Gubbins, wot was looking on with other folks, "but Joe Clark is that
+generous he won't 'ear of our leaving anything."
+
+"Has 'e gorn mad?" ses Bill Chambers, staring at 'im.
+
+"Not as I knows on," ses Bob Pretty.  "It's 'is good-'artedness, that's
+all.  He feels sure that that cat's dead, and that he'll 'ave George
+Barstow's cottage and furniture.  I told 'im he'd better wait till he'd
+made sure, but 'e wouldn't."
+
+Before they'd finished the Prettys 'ad picked that 'ouse as clean as a
+bone, and Joe Clark 'ad to go and get clean straw for his wife and
+children to sleep on; not that Mrs. Clark 'ad any sleep that night, nor
+Joe neither.
+
+Henery Walker was the fust to see what it really meant, and he went
+rushing off as fast as 'e could run to tell George Barstow.  George
+couldn't believe 'im at fust, but when 'e did he swore that if a 'air of
+that cat's head was harmed 'e'd 'ave the law o' Bob Pretty, and arter
+Henery Walker 'ad gone 'e walked round to tell 'im so.
+
+"You're not yourself, George Barstow, else you wouldn't try and take away
+my character like that," ses Bob Pretty.
+
+"Wot did Joe Clark give you all them things for?" ses George, pointing to
+the furniture.
+
+"Took a fancy to me, I s'pose," ses Bob.  "People do sometimes.  There's
+something about me at times that makes 'em like me."
+
+"He gave 'em to you to kill my cat," ses George Barstow.  "It's plain
+enough for any-body to see."
+
+Bob Pretty smiled.  "I expect it'll turn up safe and sound one o' these
+days," he ses, "and then you'll come round and beg my pardon.  P'r'aps--"
+
+"P'r'aps wot?" ses George Barstow, arter waiting a bit.
+
+"P'r'aps somebody 'as got it and is keeping it till you've drawed the
+fifteen pounds out o' the bank," ses Bob, looking at 'im very hard.
+
+"I've taken it out o' the bank," ses George, starting; "if that cat's
+alive, Bob, and you've got it, there's the fifteen pounds the moment you
+'and it over."
+
+"Wot d'ye mean--me got it?" ses Bob Pretty.  "You be careful o' my
+character."
+
+"I mean if you know where it is," ses George Barstow trembling all over.
+
+"I don't say I couldn't find it, if that's wot you mean," ses Bob.  "I
+can gin'rally find things when I want to."
+
+"You find me that cat, alive and well, and the money's yours, Bob," ses
+George, 'ardly able to speak, now that 'e fancied the cat was still
+alive.
+
+Bob Pretty shook his 'ead.  "No; that won't do," he ses.  "S'pose I did
+'ave the luck to find that pore animal, you'd say I'd had it all the time
+and refuse to pay."
+
+"I swear I wouldn't, Bob," ses George Barstow, jumping up.
+
+"Best thing you can do if you want me to try and find that cat," says Bob
+Pretty, "is to give me the fifteen pounds now, and I'll go and look for
+it at once.  I can't trust you, George Barstow."
+
+"And I can't trust you," ses George Barstow.
+
+"Very good," ses Bob, getting up; "there's no 'arm done.  P'r'aps Joe
+Clark 'll find the cat is dead and p'r'aps you'll find it's alive.  It's
+all one to me."
+
+George Barstow walked off 'ome, but he was in such a state o' mind 'e
+didn't know wot to do.  Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose at fifteen pounds
+like that made 'im think that Joe Clark 'ad promised to pay 'im more if
+the cat was dead; and at last, arter worrying about it for a couple o'
+hours, 'e came up to this 'ere _Cauliflower_ and offered Bob the fifteen
+pounds.
+
+"Wot's this for?" ses Bob.
+
+"For finding my cat," ses George.
+
+"Look here," ses Bob, handing it back, "I've 'ad enough o' your insults;
+I don't know where your cat is."
+
+"I mean for trying to find it, Bob," ses George Barstow.
+
+"Oh, well, I don't mind that," ses Bob, taking it.  "I'm a 'ard-working
+man, and I've got to be paid for my time; it's on'y fair to my wife and
+children.  I'll start now."
+
+He finished up 'is beer, and while the other chaps was telling George
+Barstow wot a fool he was Joe Clark slipped out arter Bob Pretty and
+began to call 'im all the names he could think of.
+
+"Don't you worry," ses Bob; "the cat ain't found yet."
+
+"Is it dead?" ses Joe Clark, 'ardly able to speak.
+
+"'Ow should I know?" ses Bob; "that's wot I've got to try and find out.
+That's wot you gave me your furniture for, and wot George Barstow gave me
+the fifteen pounds for, ain't it?  Now, don't you stop me now, 'cos I'm
+goin' to begin looking."
+
+He started looking there and then, and for the next two or three days
+George Barstow and Joe Clark see 'im walking up and down with his 'ands
+in 'is pockets looking over garden fences and calling "Puss."  He asked
+everybody 'e see whether they 'ad seen a white cat with one blue eye and
+one yaller one, and every time 'e came into the _Cauliflower_ he put his
+'ead over the bar and called "Puss," 'cos, as 'e said, it was as likely
+to be there as anywhere else.
+
+It was about a week after the cat 'ad disappeared that George Barstow was
+standing at 'is door talking to Joe Clark, who was saying the cat must be
+dead and 'e wanted 'is property, when he sees a man coming up the road
+carrying a basket stop and speak to Bill Chambers.  Just as 'e got near
+them an awful "miaow" come from the basket and George Barstow and Joe
+Clark started as if they'd been shot.
+
+"He's found it?" shouts Bill Chambers, pointing to the man.
+
+"It's been living with me over at Ling for a week pretty nearly," ses the
+man.  "I tried to drive it away several times, not knowing that there was
+fifteen pounds offered for it."
+
+George Barstow tried to take 'old of the basket.
+
+"I want that fifteen pounds fust," ses the man.
+
+"That's on'y right and fair, George," ses Bob Pretty, who 'ad just come
+up.  "You've got all the luck, mate.  We've been hunting 'igh and low for
+that cat for a week."
+
+Then George Barstow tried to explain to the man and call Bob Pretty names
+at the same time; but it was all no good.  The man said it 'ad nothing to
+do with 'im wot he 'ad paid to Bob Pretty; and at last they fetched
+Policeman White over from Cudford, and George Barstow signed a paper to
+pay five shillings a week till the reward was paid.
+
+George Barstow 'ad the cat for five years arter that, but he never let it
+get away agin.  They got to like each other in time and died within a
+fortnight of each other, so that Joe Clark got 'is property arter all.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captains All and Others, by W.W. Jacobs
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diff --git a/old/old/11191-h-2006-10-30/11191-h.htm b/old/old/11191-h-2006-10-30/11191-h.htm
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@@ -0,0 +1,7087 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type"
+    content="text/html; charset=us-ascii">
+<title>
+    Captains All,
+    by W.W. Jacobs.
+</title>
+<style type="text/css">
+    <!--
+		body {background:#faebd7;}
+    * { font-family:   Times;
+      }
+    P { text-indent:   1em;
+		    margin:        15%;
+        margin-top:    .75em;
+        font-size:     14pt;
+        text-align:    justify;
+        margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; color:#A82C28;}
+    HR  { width: 33%; }
+    PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced;}
+    .toc  { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: 0em;}
+    CENTER { padding: 10px;}
+    // -->
+</style>
+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captains All and Others, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
+
+
+Title: Captains All and Others
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: October 30, 2006 [EBook #11191]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAINS ALL AND OTHERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h1>
+    CAPTAINS ALL
+</h1>
+<br />
+<h2>
+    By W.W. Jacobs
+</h2>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="title (79K)" src="images/title.jpg" height="884" width="533" />
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+<br><br>
+<center>
+<img alt="frontis (94K)" src="images/frontis.jpg" height="906" width="532" />
+</center>
+<br><br>
+
+
+
+<br /><br />
+<hr>
+<br /><br />
+
+<h2>Contents:</h2>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr><td>
+
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_1">
+CAPTAINS ALL
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_2">
+THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_3">
+THE NEST EGG
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_4">
+THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_5">
+BOB'S REDEMPTION
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_6">
+OVER THE SIDE
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_7">
+THE FOUR PIGEONS
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_8">
+THE TEMPTATION OF SAMUEL BURGE
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_9">
+THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#2H_4_10">
+THE WHITE CAT
+</a></p>
+
+
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+
+<br /><br />
+<hr>
+<br /><br />
+
+<h2>List of Illustrations</h2>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr><td>
+
+
+
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-1">
+"Captains All."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-2">
+"The Boatswain's Mate"
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-3">
+"'I Gives You the Two Quid Afore You Go Into The House,'
+Continued the Boatswain."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-4">
+"The Nest Egg."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-5">
+"He Said It Was a Bad Road and A Little Shop, And 'ad Got
+A Look About It he Didn't Like."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-6">
+"The Constable's Move."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-7">
+"Mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short
+And Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-8">
+"Bob's Redemption."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-9">
+"Afore George Had Settled With the Cabman, There Was A
+Policeman Moving the Crowd On."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-10">
+"Over the Side."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-11">
+"The Four Pigeons."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-12">
+"The Fust Bob Pretty 'eard of It Was up at The
+<i>cauliflower</i> at Eight O'clock That Evening."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-13">
+"The Temptation of Samuel Burge."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-14">
+"The Madness of Mr. Lister."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-15">
+"A Friendship Sprang up Between the Two Men Which Puzzled
+The Remainder of the Crew Not a Little."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-16">
+"The White Cat."
+</a></p>
+<p class="toc"><a href="#image-17">
+"He 'ad a Little Collar and Chain Made for It, And Took It
+Out for a Walk."
+</a></p>
+
+
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+
+<br /><br />
+<hr>
+
+
+
+
+
+<a name="2H_4_1"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    CAPTAINS ALL
+</h2>
+<a name="image-1"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/001.jpg" height="462" width="536"
+alt="'captains All.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Every sailorman grumbles about the sea, said the night-watchman,
+    thoughtfully.  It's human nature to grumble, and I s'pose they keep on
+    grumbling and sticking to it because there ain't much else they can do.
+    There's not many shore-going berths that a sailorman is fit for, and
+    those that they are&mdash;such as a night-watchman's, for instance&mdash;wants such
+    a good character that there's few as are to equal it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sometimes they get things to do ashore.  I knew one man that took up
+    butchering, and 'e did very well at it till the police took him up.
+    Another man I knew gave up the sea to marry a washerwoman, and they
+    hadn't been married six months afore she died, and back he 'ad to go to
+    sea agin, pore chap.
+</p>
+<p>
+    A man who used to grumble awful about the sea was old Sam Small&mdash;a man
+    I've spoke of to you before.  To hear 'im go on about the sea, arter he
+    'ad spent four or five months' money in a fortnight, was 'artbreaking.
+    He used to ask us wot was going to happen to 'im in his old age, and when
+    we pointed out that he wouldn't be likely to 'ave any old age if he
+    wasn't more careful of 'imself he used to fly into a temper and call us
+    everything 'e could lay his tongue to.
+</p>
+<p>
+    One time when 'e was ashore with Peter Russet and Ginger Dick he seemed
+    to 'ave got it on the brain.  He started being careful of 'is money
+    instead o' spending it, and three mornings running he bought a newspaper
+    and read the advertisements, to see whether there was any comfortable
+    berth for a strong, good-'arted man wot didn't like work.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He actually went arter one situation, and, if it hadn't ha' been for
+    seventy-nine other men, he said he believed he'd ha' had a good chance of
+    getting it.  As it was, all 'e got was a black eye for shoving another
+    man, and for a day or two he was so down-'arted that 'e was no company at
+    all for the other two.
+</p>
+<p>
+    For three or four days 'e went out by 'imself, and then, all of a sudden,
+    Ginger Dick and Peter began to notice a great change in him.  He seemed
+    to 'ave got quite cheerful and 'appy.  He answered 'em back pleasant when
+    they spoke to 'im, and one night he lay in 'is bed whistling comic songs
+    until Ginger and Peter Russet 'ad to get out o' bed to him.  When he
+    bought a new necktie and a smart cap and washed 'imself twice in one day
+    they fust began to ask each other wot was up, and then they asked him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Up?" ses Sam; "nothing."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's in love," ses Peter Russet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're a liar," ses Sam, without turning round.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He'll 'ave it bad at 'is age," ses Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sam didn't say nothing, but he kept fidgeting about as though 'e'd got
+    something on his mind.  Fust he looked out o' the winder, then he 'ummed
+    a tune, and at last, looking at 'em very fierce, he took a tooth-brush
+    wrapped in paper out of 'is pocket and began to clean 'is teeth.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He is in love," ses Ginger, as soon as he could speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Or else 'e's gorn mad," ses Peter, watching 'im.  "Which is it, Sam?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sam made believe that he couldn't answer 'im because o' the tooth-brush,
+    and arter he'd finished he 'ad such a raging toothache that 'e sat in a
+    corner holding 'is face and looking the pictur' o' misery.  They couldn't
+    get a word out of him till they asked 'im to go out with them, and then
+    he said 'e was going to bed.  Twenty minutes arterwards, when Ginger Dick
+    stepped back for 'is pipe, he found he 'ad gorn.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He tried the same game next night, but the other two wouldn't 'ave it,
+    and they stayed in so long that at last 'e lost 'is temper, and, arter
+    wondering wot Ginger's father and mother could ha' been a-thinking about,
+    and saying that he believed Peter Russet 'ad been changed at birth for a
+    sea-sick monkey, he put on 'is cap and went out.  Both of 'em follered
+    'im sharp, but when he led 'em to a mission-hall, and actually went
+    inside, they left 'im and went off on their own.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They talked it over that night between themselves, and next evening they
+    went out fust and hid themselves round the corner.  Ten minutes
+    arterwards old Sam came out, walking as though 'e was going to catch a
+    train; and smiling to think 'ow he 'ad shaken them off.  At the corner of
+    Commercial Road he stopped and bought 'imself a button-hole for 'is coat,
+    and Ginger was so surprised that 'e pinched Peter Russet to make sure
+    that he wasn't dreaming.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam walked straight on whistling, and every now and then looking down
+    at 'is button-hole, until by-and-by he turned down a street on the right
+    and went into a little shop.  Ginger Dick and Peter waited for 'im at the
+    corner, but he was inside for so long that at last they got tired o'
+    waiting and crept up and peeped through the winder.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It was a little tobacconist's shop, with newspapers and penny toys and
+    such-like; but, as far as Ginger could see through two rows o' pipes and
+    the Police News, it was empty.  They stood there with their noses pressed
+    against the glass for some time, wondering wot had 'appened to Sam, but
+    by-and-by a little boy went in and then they began to 'ave an idea wot
+    Sam's little game was.
+</p>
+<p>
+    As the shop-bell went the door of a little parlour at the back of the
+    shop opened, and a stout and uncommon good-looking woman of about forty
+    came out.  Her 'ead pushed the <i>Police News</i> out o' the way and her 'and
+    came groping into the winder arter a toy.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger 'ad a good look at 'er out o' the corner of one eye, while he
+    pretended to be looking at a tobacco-jar with the other.  As the little
+    boy came out 'im and Peter Russet went in.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I want a pipe, please," he ses, smiling at 'er; "a clay pipe&mdash;one o' your
+    best."  The woman handed 'im down a box to choose from, and just then
+    Peter, wot 'ad been staring in at the arf-open door at a boot wot wanted
+    lacing up, gave a big start and ses, "Why!  Halloa!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot's the matter?" ses the woman, looking at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'd know that foot anywhere," ses Peter, still staring at it; and the
+    words was hardly out of 'is mouth afore the foot 'ad moved itself away
+    and tucked itself under its chair.  "Why, that's my dear old friend Sam
+    Small, ain't it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Do you know the captin?" ses the woman, smiling at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Cap&mdash;&mdash;?" ses Peter.  "Cap&mdash;&mdash;?  Oh, yes; why, he's the biggest friend
+    I've got."  "'Ow strange!" ses the woman.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We've been wanting to see 'im for some time," ses Ginger.  "He was kind
+    enough to lend me arf a crown the other day, and I've been wanting to pay
+    'im."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Captin Small," ses the woman, pushing open the door, "here's some old
+    friends o' yours."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam turned 'is face round and looked at 'em, and if looks could ha'
+    killed, as the saying is, they'd ha' been dead men there and then.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh, yes," he ses, in a choking voice; "'ow are you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Pretty well, thank you, captin," ses Ginger, grinning at 'im; "and 'ow's
+    yourself arter all this long time?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He held out 'is hand and Sam shook it, and then shook 'ands with Peter
+    Russet, who was grinning so 'ard that he couldn't speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "These are two old friends o' mine, Mrs. Finch," ses old Sam, giving 'em
+    a warning look; "Captin Dick and Captin Russet, two o' the oldest and
+    best friends a man ever 'ad."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Captin Dick 'as got arf a crown for you," ses Peter Russet, still
+    grinning.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There now," ses Ginger, looking vexed, "if I ain't been and forgot it;
+    I've on'y got arf a sovereign."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I can give you change, sir," ses Mrs. Finch.  "P'r'aps you'd like to sit
+    down for five minutes?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger thanked 'er, and 'im and Peter Russet took a chair apiece in front
+    o' the fire and began asking old Sam about 'is 'ealth, and wot he'd been
+    doing since they saw 'im last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Fancy your reckernizing his foot," ses Mrs. Finch, coming in with the
+    change.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'd know it anywhere," ses Peter, who was watching Ginger pretending to
+    give Sam Small the 'arf-dollar, and Sam pretending in a most lifelike
+    manner to take it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger Dick looked round the room.  It was a comfortable little place,
+    with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs, and a row
+    of pink vases on the mantelpiece.  Then 'e looked at Mrs. Finch, and
+    thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty, troublesome
+    sailormen to look arter, Captin Small," he ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's wonderful the way he manages 'em," ses Peter Russet to Mrs. Finch.
+    "Like a lion he is."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A roaring lion," ses Ginger, looking at Sam.  "He don't know wot fear
+    is."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sam began to smile, and Mrs. Finch looked at 'im so pleased that Peter
+    Russet, who 'ad been looking at 'er and the room, and thinking much the
+    same way as Ginger, began to think that they was on the wrong tack.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Afore 'e got stout and old," he ses, shaking his 'ead, "there wasn't a
+    smarter skipper afloat."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We all 'ave our day," ses Ginger, shaking his 'ead too.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I dessay he's good for another year or two afloat, yet," ses Peter
+    Russet, considering.  "With care," ses Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam was going to say something, but 'e stopped himself just in time.
+    "They will 'ave their joke," he ses, turning to Mrs. Finch and trying to
+    smile.  "I feel as young as ever I did."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Finch said that anybody with arf an eye could see that, and then she
+    looked at a kettle that was singing on the 'ob.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I s'pose you gentlemen wouldn't care for a cup o' cocoa?" she ses,
+    turning to them.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger Dick and Peter both said that they liked it better than anything
+    else, and, arter she 'ad got out the cups and saucers and a tin o' cocoa,
+    Ginger held the kettle and poured the water in the cups while she stirred
+    them, and old Sam sat looking on 'elpless.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It does seem funny to see you drinking cocoa, captin," ses Ginger, as
+    old Sam took his cup.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ho!" ses Sam, firing up; "and why, if I might make so bold as to ask?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Cos I've generally seen you drinking something out of a bottle," ses
+    Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Now, look 'ere," ses Sam, starting up and spilling some of the hot cocoa
+    over 'is lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A ginger-beer bottle," ses Peter Russet, making faces at Ginger to keep
+    quiet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes, o' course, that's wot I meant," ses Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam wiped the cocoa off 'is knees without saying a word, but his
+    weskit kept going up and down till Peter Russet felt quite sorry for 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's nothing like it," he ses to Mrs. Finch.  "It was by sticking to
+    ginger-beer and milk and such-like that Captain Small 'ad command of a
+    ship afore 'e was twenty-five."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Lor'!" ses Mrs. Finch.
+</p>
+<p>
+    She smiled at old Sam till Peter got uneasy agin, and began to think
+    p'r'aps 'e'd been praising 'im too much.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Of course, I'm speaking of long ago now," he ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Years and years afore you was born, ma'am," ses Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam was going to say something, but Mrs. Finch looked so pleased that
+    'e thought better of it.  Some o' the cocoa 'e was drinking went the
+    wrong way, and then Ginger patted 'im on the back and told 'im to be
+    careful not to bring on 'is brownchitis agin.  Wot with temper and being
+    afraid to speak for fear they should let Mrs. Finch know that 'e wasn't a
+    captin, he could 'ardly bear 'imself, but he very near broke out when
+    Peter Russet advised 'im to 'ave his weskit lined with red flannel.  They
+    all stayed on till closing time, and by the time they left they 'ad made
+    theirselves so pleasant that Mrs. Finch said she'd be pleased to see them
+    any time they liked to look in.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sam Small waited till they 'ad turned the corner, and then he broke out
+    so alarming that they could 'ardly do anything with 'im.  Twice policemen
+    spoke to 'im and advised 'im to go home afore they altered their minds;
+    and he 'ad to hold 'imself in and keep quiet while Ginger and Peter
+    Russet took 'is arms and said they were seeing him 'ome.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He started the row agin when they got in-doors, and sat up in 'is bed
+    smacking 'is lips over the things he'd like to 'ave done to them if he
+    could.  And then, arter saying 'ow he'd like to see Ginger boiled alive
+    like a lobster, he said he knew that 'e was a noble-'arted feller who
+    wouldn't try and cut an old pal out, and that it was a case of love at
+    first sight on top of a tram-car.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She's too young for you," ses Ginger; "and too good-looking besides."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's the nice little bisness he's fallen in love with, Ginger," ses
+    Peter Russet.  "I'll toss you who 'as it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger, who was siting on the foot o' Sam's bed, said "no" at fust, but
+    arter a time he pulled out arf a dollar and spun it in the air.
+</p>
+<p>
+    That was the last 'e see of it, although he 'ad Sam out o' bed and all
+    the clothes stripped off of it twice.  He spent over arf an hour on his
+    'ands and knees looking for it, and Sam said when he was tired of playing
+    bears p'r'aps he'd go to bed and get to sleep like a Christian.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They 'ad it all over agin next morning, and at last, as nobody would
+    agree to keep quiet and let the others 'ave a fair chance, they made up
+    their minds to let the best man win.  Ginger Dick bought a necktie that
+    took all the colour out o' Sam's, and Peter Russet went in for a collar
+    so big that 'e was lost in it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They all strolled into the widow's shop separate that night.  Ginger Dick
+    'ad smashed his pipe and wanted another; Peter Russet wanted some
+    tobacco; and old Sam Small walked in smiling, with a little silver brooch
+    for 'er, that he said 'e had picked up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It was a very nice brooch, and Mrs. Finch was so pleased with it that
+    Ginger and Peter sat there as mad as they could be because they 'adn't
+    thought of the same thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Captain Small is very lucky at finding things," ses Ginger, at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's got the name for it," ses Peter Russet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's a handy 'abit," ses Ginger; "it saves spending money.  Who did you
+    give that gold bracelet to you picked up the other night, captin?" he
+    ses, turning to Sam.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Gold bracelet?" ses Sam.  "I didn't pick up no gold bracelet.  Wot are
+    you talking about?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "All right, captin; no offence," ses Ginger, holding up his 'and.  "I
+    dreamt I saw one  on your mantelpiece, I s'pose.  P'r'aps I oughtn't to
+    ha' said anything about it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam looked as though he'd like to eat 'im, especially as he noticed
+    Mrs. Finch listening and pretending not to.  "Oh! that one," he ses,
+    arter a bit o' hard thinking.  "Oh! I found out who it belonged to.  You
+    wouldn't believe 'ow pleased they was at getting it back agin."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger Dick coughed and began to think as 'ow old Sam was sharper than he
+    'ad given 'im credit for, but afore he could think of anything else to
+    say Mrs. Finch looked at old Sam and began to talk about 'is ship, and to
+    say 'ow much she should like to see over it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I wish I could take you," ses Sam, looking at the other two out o' the
+    corner of his eye, "but my ship's over at Dunkirk, in France.  I've just
+    run over to London for a week or two to look round."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And mine's there too," ses Peter Russet, speaking a'most afore old Sam
+    'ad finished; "side by side they lay in the harbour."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh, dear," ses Mrs. Finch, folding her 'ands and shaking her 'cad.  "I
+    should like to go over a ship one arternoon.  I'd quite made up my mind
+    to it, knowing three captins."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She smiled and looked at Ginger; and Sam and Peter looked at 'im too,
+    wondering whether he was going to berth his ship at Dunkirk alongside o'
+    theirs.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ah, I wish I 'ad met you a fortnight ago," ses Ginger, very sad.  "I
+    gave up my ship, the High flyer, then, and I'm waiting for one my owners
+    are 'aving built for me at New-castle.  They said the High flyer wasn't
+    big enough for me.  She was a nice little ship, though.  I believe I've
+    got 'er picture somewhere about me!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He felt in 'is pocket and pulled out a little, crumpled-up photograph of
+    a ship he'd been fireman aboard of some years afore, and showed it to
+    'er.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's me standing on the bridge," he ses, pointing out a little dot
+    with the stem of 'is pipe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's your figger," ses Mrs. Finch, straining her eyes.  "I should know
+    it anywhere."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You've got wonderful eyes, ma'am," ses old Sam, choking with 'is pipe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Anybody can see that," ses Ginger.  "They're the largest and the bluest
+    I've ever seen."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Finch told 'im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter Russet
+    could see 'ow pleased she was.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Truth is truth," ses Ginger.  "I'm a plain man, and I speak my mind."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Blue is my fav'rit' colour," ses old Sam, in a tender voice.  "True
+    blue."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Peter Russet began to feel out of it.  "I thought brown was," he ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ho!" ses Sam, turning on 'im; "and why?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I 'ad my reasons," ses Peter, nodding, and shutting 'is mouth very firm.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought brown was 'is fav'rit colour too," ses Ginger.  "I don't know
+    why.  It's no use asking me; because if you did I couldn't tell you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Brown's a very nice colour," ses Mrs. Finch, wondering wot was the
+    matter with old Sam.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Blue," ses Ginger; "big blue eyes&mdash;they're the ones for me.  Other
+    people may 'ave their blacks and their browns," he ses, looking at Sam
+    and Peter Russet, "but give me blue."
+</p>
+<p>
+    They went on like that all the evening, and every time the shop-bell went
+    and the widow 'ad to go out to serve a customer they said in w'ispers wot
+    they thought of each other; and once when she came back rather sudden
+    Ginger 'ad to explain to 'er that 'e was showing Peter Russet a scratch
+    on his knuckle.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger Dick was the fust there next night, and took 'er a little chiney
+    teapot he 'ad picked up dirt cheap because it was cracked right acrost
+    the middle; but, as he explained that he 'ad dropped it in hurrying to
+    see 'er, she was just as pleased.  She stuck it up on the mantelpiece,
+    and the things she said about Ginger's kindness and generosity made Peter
+    Russet spend good money that he wanted for 'imself on a painted
+    flower-pot next evening.
+</p>
+<p>
+    With three men all courting 'er at the same time Mrs. Finch had 'er hands
+    full, but she took to it wonderful considering.  She was so nice and kind
+    to 'em all that even arter a week's 'ard work none of 'em was really
+    certain which she liked best.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They took to going in at odd times o' the day for tobacco and such-like.
+    They used to go alone then, but they all met and did the polite to each
+    other there of an evening, and then quarrelled all the way 'ome.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then all of a sudden, without any warning, Ginger Dick and Peter Russet
+    left off going there.  The fust evening Sam sat expecting them every
+    minute, and was so surprised that he couldn't take any advantage of it;
+    but on the second, beginning by squeezing Mrs. Finch's 'and at ha'-past
+    seven, he 'ad got best part of his arm round 'er waist by a quarter to
+    ten.  He didn't do more that night because she told him to be'ave
+    'imself, and threatened to scream if he didn't leave off.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was arf-way home afore 'e thought of the reason for Ginger Dick and
+    Peter Russet giving up, and then he went along smiling to 'imself to such
+    an extent that people thought 'e was mad.  He went off to sleep with the
+    smile still on 'is lips, and when Peter and Ginger came in soon arter
+    closing time and 'e woke up and asked them where they'd been, 'e was
+    still smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I didn't 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you at Mrs. Finch's to-night," he
+    ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No," ses Ginger, very short.  "We got tired of it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So un'ealthy sitting in that stuffy little room every evening," ses
+    Peter.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam put his 'ead under the bedclothes and laughed till the bed shook;
+    and every now and then he'd put his 'ead out and look at Peter and Ginger
+    and laugh agin till he choked.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I see 'ow it is," he ses, sitting up and wiping his eyes on the sheet.
+    "Well, we cant all win."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot d'ye mean?" ses Ginger, very disagreeable.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She wouldn't 'ave you, Sam, thats wot I mean. And I don't wonder at
+    it.  I wouldn't 'ave you if I was a gal."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're dreaming, ses Peter Russet, sneering at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That flower-pot o' yours'll come in handy," ses Sam, thinking 'ow he 'ad
+    put 'is arm round the widow's waist; "and I thank you kindly for the
+    teapot, Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You don't mean to say as you've asked 'er to marry you?" ses Ginger,
+    looking at Peter Russet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not quite; but I'm going to," ses Sam, "and I'll bet you even arf-crowns
+    she ses 'yes.'"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger wouldn't take 'im, and no more would Peter, not even when he raised
+    it to five shillings; and the vain way old Sam lay there boasting and
+    talking about 'is way with the gals made 'em both feel ill.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I wouldn't 'ave her if she asked me on 'er bended knees," ses Ginger,
+    holding up his 'ead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Nor me," ses Peter.  "You're welcome to 'er, Sam.  When I think of the
+    evenings I've wasted over a fat old woman I feel&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That'll do," ses old Sam, very sharp; "that ain't the way to speak of a
+    lady, even if she 'as said 'no.'"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "All right, Sam," ses Ginger.  "You go in and win if you think you're so
+    precious clever."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam said that that was wot 'e was going to do, and he spent so much
+    time next morning making 'imself look pretty that the other two could
+    'ardly be civil to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He went off a'most direckly arter breakfast, and they didn't see 'im agin
+    till twelve o'clock that night.  He 'ad brought a bottle o' whisky in
+    with 'im, and he was so 'appy that they see plain wot had 'appened.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She said 'yes' at two o'clock in the arternoon," ses old Sam, smiling,
+    arter they had 'ad a glass apiece.  "I'd nearly done the trick at one
+    o'clock, and then the shop-bell went, and I 'ad to begin all over agin.
+    Still, it wasn't unpleasant."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Do you mean to tell us you've asked 'er to marry you?" ses Ginger,
+    'olding out 'is glass to be filled agin.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I do," ses Sam; "but I 'ope there's no ill-feeling.  You never 'ad a
+    chance, neither of you; she told me so."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Ginger Dick and Peter Russet stared at each other.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She said she 'ad been in love with me all along," ses Sam, filling their
+    glasses agin to cheer 'em up.  "We went out arter tea and bought the
+    engagement-ring, and then she got somebody to mind the shop and we went
+    to the Pagoda music-'all."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I 'ope you didn't pay much for the ring, Sam," ses Ginger, who always
+    got very kind-'arted arter two or three glasses o' whisky.  "If I'd known
+    you was going to be in such a hurry I might ha' told you before."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We ought to ha' done," ses Peter, shaking his 'ead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Told me?" ses Sam, staring at 'em.  "Told me wot?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why me and Peter gave it up," ses Ginger; "but, o' course, p'r'aps you
+    don't mind."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Mind wot?" ses Sam.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's wonderful 'ow quiet she kept it," ses Peter.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam stared at 'em agin, and then he asked 'em to speak in plain
+    English wot they'd got to say, and not to go taking away the character of
+    a woman wot wasn't there to speak up for herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's nothing agin 'er character," ses Ginger.  "It's a credit to her,
+    looked at properly," ses Peter Russet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And Sam'll 'ave the pleasure of bringing of 'em up," ses Ginger.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Bringing of 'em up?" ses Sam, in a trembling voice and turning pale;
+    "bringing who up?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why, 'er children," ses Ginger.  "Didn't she tell you?  She's got nine
+    of 'em."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sam pretended not to believe 'em at fust, and said they was jealous; but
+    next day he crept down to the greengrocer's shop in the same street,
+    where Ginger had 'appened to buy some oranges one day, and found that it
+    was only too true.  Nine children, the eldest of 'em only fifteen, was
+    staying with diff'rent relations owing to scarlet-fever next door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Sam crept back 'ome like a man in a dream, with a bag of oranges he
+    didn't want, and, arter making a present of the engagement-ring to
+    Ginger&mdash;if 'e could get it&mdash;he took the fust train to Tilbury and signed
+    on for a v'y'ge to China.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_2"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE
+</h2>
+<a name="image-2"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/002.jpg" height="459" width="534"
+alt="'the Boatswain's Mate'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with a
+    despondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in his
+    hand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair,
+    eyed him with some heat.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My feelings'll never change," said the boatswain.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Nor mine either," said the landlady, sharply.  "It's a strange thing,
+    Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third mug."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's only to get my courage up," pleaded the boatswain.  "Next time I'll
+    do it afore I 'ave a drop; that'll prove to you I'm in earnest."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could make a
+    selection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+    After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road seemed hot
+    and dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a man whose hand
+    has been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on unheeding.  His
+    steps lagged, but his brain was active.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady bank
+    took a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe.  The heat
+    and the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the corner of
+    his mouth, and his eyes closed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling in his
+    pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder.  He saw a tall man
+    carrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage, the
+    keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting the old
+    soldier.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed him
+    pleasantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept that
+    luxury.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Lobster, ain't you?" he said, affably.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The tall man nodded.  "Was," he replied.  "Now I'm my own commander-in-chief."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Padding it?" suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him and
+    refilling his pipe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversation
+    dropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him.  "I've got
+    plenty of time," he remarked.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence.  A dim idea which
+    had been in his mind for some time began to clarify.  He stole a glance
+    at his companion&mdash;a man of about thirty-eight, clear eyes, with humorous
+    wrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a cheerful expression
+    more than tinged with recklessness.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ain't over and above fond o' work?" suggested the boatswain, when he had
+    finished his inspection.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I love it," said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, "but we
+    can't have all we want in this world; it wouldn't be good for us."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed.  Then he rattled his
+    pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Would arf a quid be any good to you?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Look here," began the soldier; "just because I asked you for a pipe o'
+    baccy&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No offence," said the other, quickly.  "I mean if you earned it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth.  "Gardening and
+    windows?" he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain shook his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Scrubbing, p'r'aps?" said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation.
+    "Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me of
+    pouching the soap.  Hang 'em!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And you didn't?" queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at him
+    darkly.  "I can't give it back to you," he said, slowly, "because I've
+    smoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only got
+    twopence, and that I want for myself.  So long, matey, and next time
+    a poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,"
+    expostulated the boat-swain.  "I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.
+    Good reasons they was."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I spoke of arf a sovereign just now," continued the boatswain,
+    impressively, "and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o'
+    burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your
+    honesty."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "<i>Burgling?</i>" gasped the astonished soldier.  "<i>Honesty?</i>  'Struth; are
+    you drunk or am I?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Meaning," said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand,
+    "for you to pretend to be a burglar."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We're both drunk, that's what it is," said the other, resignedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain fidgeted.  "If you don't agree, mum's the word and no 'arm
+    done," he said, holding out his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Mum's the word," said the soldier, taking it.  "My name's Ned Travers,
+    and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing against it.
+    Mind that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Might 'appen to anybody," said Mr. Benn, soothingly.  "You fill your
+    pipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity,
+    stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away.  Then he
+    resumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other "fire
+    away."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet," said Mr. Benn, slowly,
+    "but it's in my mind's eye.  It's been there off and on like for some
+    time."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge.  "Two
+    miles from here, where I live," he said, after several vigorous puffs,
+    "there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wot
+    I've got my eye on."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier sat up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She won't 'ave me," said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier leaned back again.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She's a lone widder," continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, "and the
+    Beehive is in a lonely place.  It's right through the village, and the
+    nearest house is arf a mile off."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Silly place for a pub," commented Mr. Travers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've been telling her 'ow unsafe it is," said the boatswain.  "I've been
+    telling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she only laughs at
+    me.  She don't believe it; d'ye see?  Likewise I'm a small man&mdash;small,
+    but stiff.  She likes tall men."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Most women do," said Mr. Travers, sitting upright and instinctively
+    twisting his moustache.  "When I was in the ranks&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My idea is," continued the boatswain, slightly raising his voice, "to
+    kill two birds with one stone&mdash;prove to her that she does want being
+    protected, and that I'm the man to protect her.  D'ye take my meaning,
+    mate?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps.  "Like a lump
+    o' wood," he said, approvingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My opinion is," said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, "that she loves
+    me without knowing it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They often do," said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed," said the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It does you credit," remarked Mr. Travers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've got a good head," said Mr. Benn, "else I shouldn't 'ave got my
+    rating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it over in my
+    mind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with it.  Now, if
+    you do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all right, damme I'll
+    make it a quid."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Go on, Vanderbilt," said Mr. Travers; "I'm listening."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain gazed at him fixedly.  "You meet me 'ere in this spot at
+    eleven o'clock to-night," he said, solemnly; "and I'll take you to her
+    'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of.  You goes upstairs
+    and alarms her, and she screams for help.  I'm watching the house,
+    faithful-like, and hear 'er scream.  I dashes in at the winder, knocks
+    you down, and rescues her.  D'ye see?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I hear," corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She clings to me," continued the boat-swain, with a rapt expression of
+    face, "in her gratitood, and, proud of my strength and pluck, she marries
+    me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "An' I get a five years' honeymoon," said the soldier.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder.  "In the
+    excitement of the moment you spring up and escape," he said, with a
+    kindly smile.  "I've thought it all out.  You can run much faster than I
+    can; any-ways, you will.  The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off, as I said,
+    and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's, ten miles
+    away."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself.  "Time I was
+    toddling," he said, with a yawn.  "Thanks for amusing me, mate."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You won't do it?" said the boatswain, eyeing him with much concern.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm hanged if I do," said the soldier, emphatically.  "Accidents will
+    happen, and then where should I be?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If they did," said the boatswain, "I'd own up and clear you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You might," said Mr. Travers, "and then again you mightn't.  So long,
+    mate."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I&mdash;I'll make it two quid," said the boat-swain, trembling with
+    eagerness.  "I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the job."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his shoulder.
+    "Thankee," he said, with mock gratitude.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Look 'ere," said the boatswain, springing up and catching him by the
+    sleeve; "I'll give it to you in writing.  Come, you ain't faint-hearted?
+    Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing.  If I give it to
+    you in writing, and there should be an accident, it's worse for me than
+    it is for you, ain't it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house," continued the
+    boatswain, hastily following up the impression he had made.  "I'd give
+    'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me.  That's my confidence in you; I
+    likes the look of you.  Soldier or sailor, when there is a man's work to
+    be done, give 'em to me afore anybody."
+</p>
+<a name="image-3"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/003.jpg" height="896" width="538"
+alt="''i Gives You the Two Quid Afore You Go Into The House,'
+Continued the Boatswain.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the ground.
+    "Go on," he said, slowly.  "Write it out fair and square and sign it, and
+    I'm your man."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle of papers
+    from his pocket.  "There's letters there with my name and address on
+    'em," he said.  "It's all fair, square, and above-board.  When you've
+    cast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in silence, with
+    various side glances at his companion as that enthusiast sucked his
+    pencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition.  The document
+    finished&mdash;after several failures had been retrieved and burnt by the
+    careful Mr. Travers&mdash;the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and handing
+    it over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he read it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Seems all right," said the soldier, folding it up and putting it in his
+    waistcoat-pocket.  "I'll be here at eleven to-night."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Eleven it is," said the boatswain, briskly, "and, between pals&mdash;here's
+    arf a dollar to go on with."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He patted him on the shoulder again, and with a caution to keep out of
+    sight as much as possible till night walked slowly home.  His step was
+    light, but he carried a face in which care and exultation were strangely
+    mingled.
+</p>
+<p>
+    By ten o'clock that night care was in the ascendant, and by eleven, when
+    he discerned the red glow of Mr. Travers's pipe set as a beacon against a
+    dark background of hedge, the boatswain was ready to curse his inventive
+    powers.  Mr. Travers greeted him cheerily and, honestly attributing the
+    fact to good food and a couple of pints of beer he had had since the
+    boatswain left him, said that he was ready for anything.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Benn grunted and led the way in silence.  There was no moon, but the
+    night was clear, and Mr. Travers, after one or two light-hearted attempts
+    at conversation, abandoned the effort and fell to whistling softly
+    instead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Except for one lighted window the village slept in darkness, but the
+    boatswain, who had been walking with the stealth of a Red Indian on the
+    war-path, breathed more freely after they had left it behind.  A renewal
+    of his antics a little farther on apprised Mr. Travers that they were
+    approaching their destination, and a minute or two later they came to a
+    small inn standing just off the road.  "All shut up and Mrs. Waters abed,
+    bless her," whispered the boatswain, after walking care-fully round the
+    house.  "How do you feel?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm all right," said Mr. Travers.  "I feel as if I'd been burgling all
+    my life.  How do you feel?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Narvous," said Mr. Benn, pausing under a small window at the rear of the
+    house.  "This is the one."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers stepped back a few paces and gazed up at the house.  All was
+    still.  For a few moments he stood listening and then re-joined the
+    boatswain.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Good-bye, mate," he said, hoisting himself on to the sill.  "Death or
+    victory."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain whispered and thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand.
+    "Take your time; there's no hurry," he muttered.  "I want to pull myself
+    together.  Frighten 'er enough, but not too much.  When she screams I'll
+    come in."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers slipped inside and then thrust his head out of the window.
+    "Won't she think it funny you should be so handy?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No; it's my faithful 'art," said the boat-swain, "keeping watch over her
+    every night, that's the ticket.  She won't know no better."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers grinned, and removing his boots passed them out to the other.
+    "We don't want her to hear me till I'm upstairs," he whispered.  "Put 'em
+    outside, handy for me to pick up."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain obeyed, and Mr. Travers&mdash;who was by no means a good hand at
+    darning socks&mdash;shivered as he trod lightly over a stone floor.  Then,
+    following the instructions of Mr. Benn, he made his way to the stairs and
+    mounted noiselessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    But for a slight stumble half-way up his progress was very creditable for
+    an amateur.  He paused and listened and, all being silent, made his way
+    to the landing and stopped out-side a door.  Despite himself his heart
+    was beating faster than usual.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He pushed the door open slowly and started as it creaked.  Nothing
+    happening he pushed again, and standing just inside saw, by a small ewer
+    silhouetted against the casement, that he was in a bedroom.  He listened
+    for the sound of breathing, but in vain.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Quiet sleeper," he reflected; "or perhaps it is an empty room.  Now, I
+    wonder whether&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The sound of an opening door made him start violently, and he stood
+    still, scarcely breathing, with his ears on the alert.  A light shone on
+    the landing, and peeping round the door he saw a woman coming along the
+    corridor&mdash;a younger and better-looking woman than he had expected to
+    see.  In one hand she held aloft a candle, in the other she bore a
+    double-barrelled gun.  Mr. Travers withdrew into the room and, as the
+    light came nearer, slipped into a big cupboard by the side of the
+    fireplace and, standing bolt upright, waited.  The light came into the
+    room.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Must have been my fancy," said a pleasant voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Bless her," smiled Mr. Travers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    His trained ear recognized the sound of cocking triggers.  The next
+    moment a heavy body bumped against the door of the cupboard and the key
+    turned in the lock.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Got you!" said the voice, triumphantly.  "Keep still; if you try and
+    break out I shall shoot you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "All right," said Mr. Travers, hastily; "I won't move."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Better not," said the voice.  "Mind, I've got a gun pointing straight at
+    you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Point it downwards, there's a good girl," said Mr. Travers, earnestly;
+    "and take your finger off the trigger.  If anything happened to me you'd
+    never forgive yourself."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's all right so long as you don't move," said the voice; "and I'm not
+    a girl," it added, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes, you are," said the prisoner.  "I saw you.  I thought it was an
+    angel at first.  I saw your little bare feet and&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    A faint scream interrupted him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You'll catch cold," urged Mr. Travers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you trouble about me," said the voice, tartly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I won't give any trouble," said Mr. Travers, who began to think it was
+    time for the boatswain to appear on the scene.  "Why don't you call for
+    help?  I'll go like a lamb."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't want your advice," was the reply.  "I know what to do.  Now,
+    don't you try and break out.  I'm going to fire one barrel out of the
+    window, but I've got the other one for you if you move."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My dear girl," protested the horrified Mr. Travers, "you'll alarm the
+    neighbourhood."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Just what I want to do," said the voice.  "Keep still, mind."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers hesitated.  The game was up, and it was clear that in any
+    case the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Stop!" he said, earnestly.  "Don't do anything rash.  I'm not a burglar;
+    I'm doing this for a friend of yours&mdash;Mr. Benn."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What?" said an amazed voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "True as I stand here," asseverated Mr. Travers.  "Here, here's my
+    instructions.  I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the back
+    window you'll see him in the garden waiting."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched from his
+    fingers.  He regained an upright position and stood listening to the
+    startled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read the
+    boatswain's permit:
+</p>
+
+<center>
+<table summary="">
+<tr><td>
+
+
+
+<pre>
+     "<i>This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind
+     and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burglar at Mrs.
+     Waters's.  He ain't a burglar, and I shall be outside all the time.
+     It's all above-board and ship-shape.
+
+     "(Signed) George Benn</i>"
+</pre>
+
+</td></tr>
+</table>
+</center>
+
+<p>
+    "Sound mind&mdash;above-board&mdash;ship-shape," repeated a dazed voice.  "Where is
+    he?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Out at the back," replied Mr. Travers.  "If you go to the window you can
+    see him.  Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a good
+    girl."
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was no reply, but a board creaked.  He waited for what seemed a
+    long time, and then the board creaked again.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Did you see him?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I did," was the sharp reply.  "You both ought to be ashamed of
+    yourselves.  You ought to be punished."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head," remarked Mr.
+    Travers.  "What are you going to do?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was no reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What are you going to do?" repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat uneasily.
+    "You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as I can judge
+    through this crack."
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody moving
+    hastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily donned.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You ought to have done it before," commented the thoughtful Mr. Travers.
+    "It's enough to give you your death of cold."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Mind your business," said the voice, sharply.  "Now, if I let you out,
+    will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Honour bright," said Mr. Travers, fervently.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget," proceeded the
+    other, grimly.  "I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down and
+    tell him I've killed you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Eh?"  said the amazed Mr. Travers.  "Oh, Lord!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "H'sh!  Stop that laughing," commanded the voice.  "He'll hear you.  Be
+    quiet!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped his
+    hand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey.  Mrs. Waters, stepping back
+    with the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come on to the landing," said Mr. Travers, eagerly.  "We don't want
+    anybody else to hear.  Fire into this."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against the
+    balusters.  "You stay here," said Mrs. Waters.  He nodded.
+</p>
+<p>
+    She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with the
+    explosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, she
+    rushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, tottered
+    outside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh! oh! oh!" she cried.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What&mdash;what's the matter?" gasped the boatswain.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The widow struggled in his arms.  "A burglar," she said, in a tense
+    whisper.  "But it's all right; I've killed him."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Kill&mdash;" stuttered the other.  "Kill&mdash;&mdash;<i>Killed him?</i>"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, "First shot," she said, with a
+    satisfied air.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain wrung his hands.  "Good heavens!" he said, moving slowly
+    towards the door.  "Poor fellow!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come back," said the widow, tugging at his coat.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I was&mdash;was going to see&mdash;whether I could do anything for 'im," quavered
+    the boatswain.  "Poor fellow!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You stay where you are," commanded Mrs. Waters.  "I don't want any
+    witnesses.  I don't want this house to have a bad name.  I'm going to
+    keep it quiet."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Quiet?" said the shaking boatswain.  "How?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "First thing to do," said the widow, thoughtfully, "is to get rid of the
+    body.  I'll bury him in the garden, I think.  There's a very good bit of
+    ground behind those potatoes.  You'll find the spade in the tool-house."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "While you're digging the grave," continued Mrs. 'Waters, calmly, "I'll
+    go in and clean up the mess."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain reeled and then fumbled with trembling fingers at his
+    collar.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Like a man in a dream he stood watching as she ran to the tool-house and
+    returned with a spade and pick; like a man in a dream he followed her on
+    to the garden.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Be careful," she said, sharply; "you're treading down my potatoes."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain stopped dead and stared at her.  Apparently unconscious of
+    his gaze, she began to pace out the measurements and then, placing the
+    tools in his hands, urged him to lose no time.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll bring him down when you're gone," she said, looking towards the
+    house.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand.  "How are
+    you going to get it downstairs?" he breathed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Drag it," said Mrs. Waters, briefly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Suppose he isn't dead?" said the boat-swain, with a gleam of hope.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Waters.  "Do you think I don't know?  Now,
+    don't waste time talking; and mind you dig it deep.  I'll put a few
+    cabbages on top afterwards&mdash;I've got more than I want."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She re-entered the house and ran lightly upstairs.  The candle was still
+    alight and the gun was leaning against the bed-post; but the visitor had
+    disappeared.  Conscious of an odd feeling of disappointment, she looked
+    round the empty room.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come and look at him," entreated a voice, and she turned and beheld the
+    amused countenance of her late prisoner at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've been watching from the back window," he said, nodding.  "You're a
+    wonder; that's what you are.  Come and look at him."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Waters followed, and leaning out of the window watched with simple
+    pleasure the efforts of the amateur sexton.  Mr. Benn was digging like
+    one possessed, only pausing at intervals to straighten his back and to
+    cast a fearsome glance around him.  The only thing that marred her
+    pleasure was the behaviour of Mr. Travers, who was struggling for a place
+    with all the fervour of a citizen at the Lord Mayor's show.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Get back," she said, in a fierce whisper.  "He'll see you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim looked up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Is that you, Mrs. Waters?" inquired the boatswain, fearfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes, of course it is," snapped the widow.  "Who else should it be, do
+    you think?  Go on!  What are you stopping for?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctly audible.
+    The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside the widow's.
+    For a long time they watched in silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?" called the boatswain, looking up
+    so suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully against the side of
+    the window.  "It's a bit creepy, all alone."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm all right," said Mrs. Waters.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant bushes,"
+    pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely.  "How you can stay there
+    alone I can't think.  I thought I saw something looking over your
+    shoulder just now.  Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught hold
+    of you!  The widow gave a sudden faint scream.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If you do that again!" she said, turning fiercely on Mr. Travers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He put it into my head," said the culprit, humbly; "I should never have
+    thought of such a thing by myself.  I'm one of the quietest and
+    best-behaved&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Make haste, Mr. Benn," said the widow, turning to the window again;
+    "I've got a lot to do when you've finished."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The boatswain groaned and fell to digging again, and Mrs. Waters, after
+    watching a little while longer, gave Mr. Travers some pointed
+    instructions about the window and went down to the garden again.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That will do, I think," she said, stepping into the hole and regarding
+    it critically.  "Now you'd better go straight off home, and, mind, not a
+    word to a soul about this."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She put her hand on his shoulder, and noticing with pleasure that he
+    shuddered at her touch led the way to the gate.  The boat-swain paused
+    for a moment, as though about to speak, and then, apparently thinking
+    better of it, bade her good-bye in a hoarse voice and walked feebly up
+    the road.  Mrs. Waters stood watching until his steps died away in the
+    distance, and then, returning to the garden, took up the spade and stood
+    regarding with some dismay the mountainous result of his industry.  Mr.
+    Travers, who was standing just inside the back door, joined her.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Let me," he said, gallantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The day was breaking as he finished his task.  The clean, sweet air and
+    the exercise had given him an appetite to which the smell of cooking
+    bacon and hot coffee that proceeded from the house had set a sharper
+    edge.  He took his coat from a bush and put it on.  Mrs. Waters appeared
+    at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You had better come in and have some breakfast before you go," she said,
+    brusquely; "there's no more sleep for me now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers obeyed with alacrity, and after a satisfying wash in the
+    scullery came into the big kitchen with his face shining and took a seat
+    at the table.  The cloth was neatly laid, and Mrs. Waters, fresh and
+    cool, with a smile upon her pleasant face, sat behind the tray.  She
+    looked at her guest curiously, Mr. Travers's spirits being somewhat
+    higher than the state of his wardrobe appeared to justify.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why don't you get some settled work?" she inquired, with gentle
+    severity, as he imparted snatches of his history between bites.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Easier said than done," said Mr. Travers, serenely.  "But don't you run
+    away with the idea that I'm a beggar, because I'm not.  I pay my way,
+    such as it is.  And, by-the-bye, I s'pose I haven't earned that two
+    pounds Benn gave me?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    His face lengthened, and he felt uneasily in his pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll give them to him when I'm tired of the joke," said the widow,
+    holding out her hand and watching him closely.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Travers passed the coins over to her.  "Soft hand you've got," he
+    said, musingly.  "I don't wonder Benn was desperate.  I dare say I should
+    have done the same in his place."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Waters bit her lip and looked out at the window; Mr. Travers resumed
+    his breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's only one job that I'm really fit for, now that I'm too old for
+    the Army," he said, confidentially, as, breakfast finished, he stood at
+    the door ready to depart.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Playing at burglars?" hazarded Mrs. Waters.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Landlord of a little country public-house," said Mr. Travers, simply.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Waters fell back and regarded him with open-eyed amazement.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Good morning," she said, as soon as she could trust her voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Good-bye," said Mr. Travers, reluctantly.  "I should like to hear how
+    old Benn takes this joke, though."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Waters retreated into the house and stood regarding him.  "If you're
+    passing this way again and like to look in&mdash;I'll tell you," she said,
+    after a long pause.  "Good-bye."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll look in in a week's time," said Mr. Travers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He took the proffered hand and shook it warmly.  "It would be the best
+    joke of all," he said, turning away.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What would?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The soldier confronted her again.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "For old Benn to come round here one evening and find me landlord.  Think
+    it over."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Waters met his gaze soberly.  "I'll think it over when you have
+    gone," she said, softly.  "Now go."
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_3"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE NEST EGG
+</h2>
+<a name="image-4"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/004.jpg" height="563" width="360"
+alt="'the Nest Egg.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    "Artfulness," said the night-watch-man, smoking placidly, "is a gift; but
+    it don't pay always.  I've met some artful ones in my time&mdash;plenty of
+    'em; but I can't truthfully say as 'ow any of them was the better for
+    meeting me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He rose slowly from the packing-case on which he had been sitting and,
+    stamping down the point of a rusty nail with his heel, resumed his seat,
+    remarking that he had endured it for some time under the impression that
+    it was only a splinter.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've surprised more than one in my time," he continued, slowly.  "When I
+    met one of these 'ere artful ones I used fust of all to pretend to be
+    more stupid than wot I really am."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stopped and stared fixedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "More stupid than I looked," he said.  He stopped again.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "More stupid than wot they thought I looked," he said, speaking with
+    marked deliberation.  And I'd let 'em go on and on until I thought I had
+    'ad about enough, and then turn round on 'em.  Nobody ever got the better
+    o' me except my wife, and that was only before we was married.  Two
+    nights arterwards she found a fish-hook in my trouser-pocket, and arter
+    that I could ha' left untold gold there&mdash;if I'd ha' had it.  It spoilt
+    wot some people call the honey-moon, but it paid in the long run.
+</p>
+<p>
+    One o' the worst things a man can do is to take up artfulness all of a
+    sudden.  I never knew it to answer yet, and I can tell you of a case
+    that'll prove my words true.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It's some years ago now, and the chap it 'appened to was a young man, a
+    shipmate o' mine, named Charlie Tagg.  Very steady young chap he was, too
+    steady for most of 'em.  That's 'ow it was me and 'im got to be such
+    pals.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He'd been saving up for years to get married, and all the advice we could
+    give 'im didn't 'ave any effect.  He saved up nearly every penny of 'is
+    money and gave it to his gal to keep for 'im, and the time I'm speaking
+    of she'd got seventy-two pounds of 'is and seventeen-and-six of 'er own
+    to set up house-keeping with.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then a thing happened that I've known to 'appen to sailormen afore.  At
+    Sydney 'e got silly on another gal, and started walking out with her, and
+    afore he knew wot he was about he'd promised to marry 'er too.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sydney and London being a long way from each other was in 'is favour, but
+    the thing that troubled 'im was 'ow to get that seventy-two pounds out of
+    Emma Cook, 'is London gal, so as he could marry the other with it.  It
+    worried 'im all the way home, and by the time we got into the London
+    river 'is head was all in a maze with it.  Emma Cook 'ad got it all saved
+    up in the bank, to take a little shop with when they got spliced, and 'ow
+    to get it he could not think.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He went straight off to Poplar, where she lived, as soon as the ship was
+    berthed.  He walked all the way so as to 'ave more time for thinking, but
+    wot with bumping into two old gentlemen with bad tempers, and being
+    nearly run over by a cabman with a white 'orse and red whiskers, he got
+    to the house without 'aving thought of anything.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They was just finishing their tea as 'e got there, and they all seemed so
+    pleased to see 'im that it made it worse than ever for 'im.  Mrs. Cook,
+    who 'ad pretty near finished, gave 'im her own cup to drink out of, and
+    said that she 'ad dreamt of 'im the night afore last, and old Cook said
+    that he 'ad got so good-looking 'e shouldn't 'ave known him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I should 'ave passed 'im in the street," he ses.  "I never see such an
+    alteration."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They'll be a nice-looking couple," ses his wife, looking at a young
+    chap, named George Smith, that 'ad been sitting next to Emma.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie Tagg filled 'is mouth with bread and butter, and wondered 'ow he
+    was to begin.  He squeezed Emma's 'and just for the sake of keeping up
+    appearances, and all the time 'e was thinking of the other gal waiting
+    for 'im thousands o' miles away.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You've come 'ome just in the nick o' time," ses old Cook; "if you'd done
+    it o' purpose you couldn't 'ave arranged it better."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Somebody's birthday?" ses Charlie, trying to smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Old Cook shook his 'ead.  "Though mine is next Wednesday," he ses, "and
+    thank you for thinking of it.  No; you're just in time for the biggest
+    bargain in the chandlery line that anybody ever 'ad a chance of.  If you
+    'adn't ha' come back we should have 'ad to ha' done it without you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Eighty pounds," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Charlie.  "With the money
+    Emma's got saved and your wages this trip you'll 'ave plenty.  You must
+    come round arter tea and 'ave a look at it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Little place not arf a mile from 'ere," ses old Cook.  "Properly worked
+    up, the way Emma'll do it, it'll be a little fortune.  I wish I'd had a
+    chance like it in my young time."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He sat shaking his 'ead to think wot he'd lost, and Charlie Tagg sat
+    staring at 'im and wondering wot he was to do.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My idea is for Charlie to go for a few more v'y'ges arter they're
+    married while Emma works up the business," ses Mrs. Cook; "she'll be all
+    right with young Bill and Sarah Ann to 'elp her and keep 'er company
+    while he's away."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We'll see as she ain't lonely," ses George Smith, turning to Charlie.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie Tagg gave a bit of a cough and said it wanted considering.  He
+    said it was no good doing things in a 'urry and then repenting of 'em all
+    the rest of your life.  And 'e said he'd been given to understand that
+    chandlery wasn't wot it 'ad been, and some of the cleverest people 'e
+    knew thought that it would be worse before it was better.  By the time
+    he'd finished they was all looking at 'im as though they couldn't believe
+    their ears.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You just step round and 'ave a look at the place," ses old Cook; "if
+    that don't make you alter your tune, call me a sinner."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie Tagg felt as though 'e could ha' called 'im a lot o' worse things
+    than that, but he took up 'is hat and Mrs. Cook and Emma got their
+    bonnets on and they went round.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't think much of it for eighty pounds," ses Charlie, beginning his
+    artfulness as they came near a big shop, with plate-glass and a double
+    front.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Eh?" ses old Cook, staring at 'im.  "Why, that ain't the place.  Why,
+    you wouldn't get that for eight 'undred."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, I don't think much of it," ses Charlie; "if it's worse than that I
+    can't look at it&mdash;I can't, indeed."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You ain't been drinking, Charlie?" ses old Cook, in a puzzled voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Certainly not," ses Charlie.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was pleased to see 'ow anxious they all looked, and when they did come
+    to the shop 'e set up a laugh that old Cook said chilled the marrer in
+    'is bones.  He stood looking in a 'elpless sort o' way at his wife and
+    Emma, and then at last he ses, "There it is; and a fair bargain at the
+    price."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I s'pose you ain't been drinking?" ses Charlie.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot's the matter with it?" ses Mrs. Cook flaring up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come inside and look at it," ses Emma, taking 'old of his arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not me," ses Charlie, hanging back.  "Why, I wouldn't take it at a
+    gift."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stood there on the kerbstone, and all they could do 'e wouldn't budge.
+    He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and 'ad got a look about it
+    he didn't like.  They walked back 'ome like a funeral procession, and
+    Emma 'ad to keep saying "<i>H's!</i>" in w'ispers to 'er mother all the way.
+</p>
+<a name="image-5"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/005.jpg" height="870" width="523"
+alt="'he Said It Was a Bad Road and A Little Shop, And 'ad Got
+A Look About It he Didn't Like.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    "I don't know wot Charlie does want, I'm sure," ses Mrs. Cook, taking off
+    'er bonnet as soon as she got indoors and pitching it on the chair he was
+    just going to set down on.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's so awk'ard," ses old Cook, rubbing his 'cad.  "Fact is, Charlie, we
+    pretty near gave 'em to understand as we'd buy it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's as good as settled," ses Mrs. Cook, trembling all over with temper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They won't settle till they get the money," ses Charlie.  "You may make
+    your mind easy about that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Emma's drawn it all out of the bank ready," ses old Cook, eager like.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie felt 'ot and cold all over.  "I'd better take care of it," he
+    ses, in a trembling voice.  "You might be robbed."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So might you be," ses Mrs. Cook.  "Don't you worry; it's in a safe
+    place."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Sailormen are always being robbed," ses George Smith, who 'ad been
+    helping young Bill with 'is sums while they 'ad gone to look at the shop.
+    "There's more sailormen robbed than all the rest put together."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They won't rob Charlie," ses Mrs. Cook, pressing 'er lips together.
+    "I'll take care o' that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie tried to laugh, but 'e made such a queer noise that young Bill
+    made a large blot on 'is exercise-book, and old Cook, wot was lighting
+    his pipe, burnt 'is fingers through not looking wot 'e was doing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You see," ses Charlie, "if I was robbed, which ain't at all likely, it
+    'ud only be me losing my own money; but if you was robbed of it you'd
+    never forgive yourselves."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I dessay I should get over it," ses Mrs. Cook, sniffing.  "I'd 'ave a
+    try, at all events."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie started to laugh agin, and old Cook, who had struck another
+    match, blew it out and waited till he'd finished.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "The whole truth is," ses Charlie, looking round, "I've got something
+    better to do with the money.  I've got a chance offered me that'll make
+    me able to double it afore you know where you are."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not afore I know where I am," ses Mrs. Cook, with a laugh that was worse
+    than Charlie's.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "The chance of a lifetime," ses Charlie, trying to keep 'is temper.  "I
+    can't tell you wot it is, because I've promised to keep it secret for a
+    time.  You'll be surprised when I do tell you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I wait till then till I'm surprised," ses Mrs. Cook, "I shall 'ave to
+    wait a long time.  My advice to you is to take that shop and ha' done
+    with it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie sat there arguing all the evening, but it was no good, and the
+    idea o' them people sitting there and refusing to let 'im have his own
+    money pretty near sent 'im crazy.  It was all 'e could do to kiss Emma
+    good-night, and 'e couldn't have 'elped slamming the front door if he'd
+    been paid for it.  The only comfort he 'ad got left was the Sydney gal's
+    photygraph, and he took that out and looked at it under nearly every
+    lamp-post he passed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He went round the next night and 'ad an-other try to get 'is money, but
+    it was no use; and all the good he done was to make Mrs. Cook in such a
+    temper that she 'ad to go to bed before he 'ad arf finished.  It was no
+    good talking to old Cook and Emma, because they daren't do anything
+    without 'er, and it was no good calling things up the stairs to her
+    because she didn't answer.  Three nights running Mrs. Cook went off to
+    bed afore eight o'clock, for fear she should say something to 'im as
+    she'd be sorry for arterwards; and for three nights Charlie made 'imself
+    so disagreeable that Emma told 'im plain the sooner 'e went back to sea
+    agin the better she should like it.  The only one who seemed to enjoy it
+    was George Smith, and 'e used to bring bits out o' newspapers and read to
+    'em, showing 'ow silly people was done out of their money.
+</p>
+<p>
+    On the fourth night Charlie dropped it and made 'imself so amiable that
+    Mrs. Cook stayed up and made 'im a Welsh rare-bit for 'is supper, and
+    made 'im drink two glasses o' beer instead o' one, while old Cook sat and
+    drank three glasses o' water just out of temper, and to show that 'e
+    didn't mind.  When she started on the chandler's shop agin Charlie said
+    he'd think it over, and when 'e went away Mrs. Cook called 'im her
+    sailor-boy and wished 'im pleasant dreams.
+</p>
+<p>
+    But Charlie Tagg 'ad got better things to do than to dream, and 'e sat up
+    in bed arf the night thinking out a new plan he'd thought of to get that
+    money.  When 'e did fall asleep at last 'e dreamt of taking a little farm
+    in Australia and riding about on 'orseback with the Sydney gal watching
+    his men at work.
+</p>
+<p>
+    In the morning he went and hunted up a shipmate of 'is, a young feller
+    named Jack Bates.  Jack was one o' these 'ere chaps, nobody's enemy but
+    their own, as the saying is; a good-'arted, free-'anded chap as you could
+    wish to see.  Everybody liked 'im, and the ship's cat loved 'im.  He'd
+    ha' sold the shirt off 'is back to oblige a pal, and three times in one
+    week he got 'is face scratched for trying to prevent 'usbands knocking
+    their wives about.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie Tagg went to 'im because he was the only man 'e could trust, and
+    for over arf an hour he was telling Jack Bates all 'is troubles, and at
+    last, as a great favour, he let 'im see the Sydney gal's photygraph, and
+    told him that all that pore gal's future 'appiness depended upon 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll step round to-night and rob 'em of that seventy-two pounds," ses
+    Jack; "it's your money, and you've a right to it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie shook his 'ead.  "That wouldn't do," he ses; "besides, I don't
+    know where they keep it.  No; I've got a better plan than that.  Come
+    round to the Crooked Billet, so as we can talk it over in peace and
+    quiet."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stood Jack three or four arf-pints afore 'e told 'im his plan, and
+    Jack was so pleased with it that he wanted to start at once, but Charlie
+    persuaded 'im to wait.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And don't you spare me, mind, out o' friendship," ses Charlie, "because
+    the blacker you paint me the better I shall like it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You trust me, mate," ses Jack Bates; "if I don't get that seventy-two
+    pounds for you, you may call me a Dutchman.  Why, it's fair robbery, I
+    call it, sticking to your money like that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    They spent the rest o' the day together, and when evening came Charlie
+    went off to the Cooks'.  Emma 'ad arf expected they was going to a
+    theayter that night, but Charlie said he wasn't feeling the thing, and he
+    sat there so quiet and miserable they didn't know wot to make of 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Ave you got any trouble on your mind, Charlie," ses Mrs. Cook, "or is
+    it the tooth-ache?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It ain't the toothache," ses Charlie.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He sat there pulling a long face and staring at the floor, but all Mrs.
+    Cook and Emma could do 'e wouldn't tell them wot was the matter with 'im.
+    He said 'e didn't want to worry other people with 'is troubles; let
+    everybody bear their own, that was 'is motto.  Even when George Smith
+    offered to go to the theayter with Emma instead of 'im he didn't fire up,
+    and, if it 'adn't ha' been for Mrs. Cook, George wouldn't ha' been sorry
+    that 'e spoke.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Theayters ain't for me," ses Charlie, with a groan.  "I'm more likely to
+    go to gaol, so far as I can see, than a theayter."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Cook and Emma both screamed and Sarah Ann did 'er first
+    highstericks, and very well, too, considering that she 'ad only just
+    turned fifteen.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Gaol!" ses old Cook, as soon as they 'ad quieted Sarah Ann with a bowl
+    o' cold water that young Bill 'ad the presence o' mind to go and fetch.
+    "Gaol!  What for?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You wouldn't believe if I was to tell you."  ses Charlie, getting up to
+    go, "and besides, I don't want any of you to think as 'ow I am worse than
+    wot I am."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He shook his 'cad at them sorrowful-like, and afore they could stop 'im
+    he 'ad gone.  Old Cook shouted arter 'im, but it was no use, and the
+    others was running into the scullery to fill the bowl agin for Emma.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Cook went round to 'is lodgings next morning, but found that 'e was
+    out.  They began to fancy all sorts o' things then, but Charlie turned up
+    agin that evening more miserable than ever.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I went round to see you this morning," ses Mrs. Cook, "but you wasn't at
+    'ome."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I never am, 'ardly," ses Charlie.  "I can't be&mdash;it ain't safe."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why not?" ses Mrs. Cook, fidgeting.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I was to tell you, you'd lose your good opinion of me," ses Charlie.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It wouldn't be much to lose," ses Mrs. Cook, firing up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie didn't answer 'er.  When he did speak he spoke to the old man,
+    and he was so down-'arted that 'e gave 'im the chills a'most, He 'ardly
+    took any notice of Emma, and, when Mrs. Cook spoke about the shop agin,
+    said that chandlers' shops was for happy people, not for 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    By the time they sat down to supper they was nearly all as miserable as
+    Charlie 'imself.  From words he let drop they all seemed to 'ave the idea
+    that the police was arter 'im, and Mrs. Cook was just asking 'im for wot
+    she called the third and last time, but wot was more likely the hundred
+    and third, wot he'd done, when there was a knock at the front door, so
+    loud and so sudden that old Cook and young Bill both cut their mouths at
+    the same time.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Anybody 'ere o' the name of Emma Cook?" ses a man's voice, when young
+    Bill opened the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "She's inside," ses the boy, and the next moment Jack Bates followed 'im
+    into the room, and then fell back with a start as 'e saw Charlie Tagg.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ho, 'ere you are, are you?" he ses, looking at 'im very black.
+    "Wot's the matter?" ses Mrs. Cook, very sharp.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I didn't expect to 'ave the pleasure o' seeing you 'ere, my lad," ses
+    Jack, still staring at Charlie, and twisting 'is face up into awful
+    scowls.  "Which is Emma Cook?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Miss Cook is my name," ses Emma, very sharp.  "Wot d'ye want?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Very good," ses Jack Bates, looking at Charlie agin; "then p'r'aps
+    you'll do me the kindness of telling that lie o' yours agin afore this
+    young lady."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's the truth," ses Charlie, looking down at 'is plate.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If somebody don't tell me wot all this is about in two minutes, I shall
+    do something desprit," ses Mrs. Cook, getting up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "This 'ere&mdash;er&mdash;man," ses Jack Bates, pointing at Charlie, "owes me
+    seventy-five pounds and won't pay.  When I ask 'im for it he ses a party
+    he's keeping company with, by the name of Emma Cook, 'as got it, and he
+    can't get it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So she has," ses Charlie, without looking up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot does 'e owe you the money for?" ses Mrs. Cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Cos I lent it to 'im," ses Jack.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Lent it?  What for?" ses Mrs. Cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Cos I was a fool, I s'pose," ses jack Bates; "a good-natured fool.
+    Anyway, I'm sick and tired of asking for it, and if I don't get it
+    to-night I'm going to see the police about it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He sat down on a chair with 'is hat cocked over one eye, and they all sat
+    staring at 'im as though they didn't know wot to say next.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So this is wot you meant when you said you'd got the chance of a
+    lifetime, is it?" ses Mrs. Cook to Charlie.  "This is wot you wanted it
+    for, is it?  Wot did you borrow all that money for?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Spend," ses Charlie, in a sulky voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Spend!" ses Mrs. Cook, with a scream; "wot in?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Drink and cards mostly," ses Jack Bates, remembering wot Charlie 'ad
+    told 'im about blackening 'is character.
+</p>
+<p>
+    You might ha' heard a pin drop a'most, and Charlie sat there without
+    saying a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Charlie's been led away," ses Mrs. Cook, looking 'ard at Jack Bates.  "I
+    s'pose you lent 'im the money to win it back from 'im at cards, didn't
+    you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And gave 'im too much licker fust," ses old Cook.  "I've 'eard of your
+    kind.  If Charlie takes my advice 'e won't pay you a farthing.  I should
+    let you do your worst if I was 'im; that's wot I should do.  You've got a
+    low face; a nasty, ugly, low face."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "One o' the worst I ever see," ses Mrs. Cook.  "It looks as though it
+    might ha' been cut out o' the Police News."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Owever could you ha' trusted a man with a face like that, Charlie?" ses
+    old Cook.  "Come away from 'im, Bill; I don't like such a chap in the
+    room."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Jack Bates began to feel very awk'ard.  They was all glaring at 'im as
+    though they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such treatment.  And, as
+    a matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You go out o' that door," ses old Cook, pointing to it.  "Go and do your
+    worst.  You won't get any money 'ere."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Stop a minute," ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ran
+    upstairs.  Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in the
+    bedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh and
+    looking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?" she ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets took out
+    about a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given 'im for
+    I O U's.  Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel on the
+    table.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's your money," she ses; "take it and go."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's seventy-two pounds there," ses Emma, who was very pale; "and
+    'ere's a ring you can have to 'elp make up the rest."  And she drew
+    Charlie's ring off and throwed it on the table.  "I've done with 'im for
+    good," she ses, with a look at 'er mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Jack Bates took up the money and the ring and stood there looking at 'er
+    and trying to think wot to say.  He'd always been uncommon partial to the
+    sex, and it did seem 'ard to stand there and take all that on account of
+    Charlie Tagg.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I only wanted my own," he ses, at last, shuffling about the floor.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, you've got it," ses Mrs. Cook, "and now you can go."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're pi'soning the air of my front parlour," ses old Cook, opening the
+    winder a little at the top.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "P'r'aps I ain't so bad as you think I am," ses Jack Bates, still looking
+    at Emma, and with that 'e walked over to Charlie and dumped down the
+    money on the table in front of 'im.  "Take it," he ses, "and don't borrow
+    any more.  I make you a free gift of it.  P'r'aps my 'art ain't as black
+    as my face," he ses, turning to Mrs. Cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but old Cook
+    smiled at 'im and put the winder up agin.  And Charlie Tagg sat there arf
+    mad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack Bates without any
+    salt, as the saying is.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I&mdash;I can't take it," he ses at last, with a stammer.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Can't take it?  Why not?" ses old Cook, staring.  "This gentleman 'as
+    given it to you."  "A free gift," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jack
+    very sweet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I can't take it," ses Charlie, winking at Jack to take the money up and
+    give it to 'im quiet, as arranged.  "I 'ave my pride."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So 'ave I," ses Jack. "Are you going to take it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Charlie gave another look. "No," he ses, "I cant take a favour.  I
+    borrowed the money and I'll pay it back.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Very good," ses Jack, taking it up. "It's my money, ain't it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes," ses Charlie, taking no notice of Mrs. Cook and 'er husband, wot
+    was both talking to 'im at once, and trying to persuade 'im to alter his
+    mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Then I give it to Miss Emma Cook," ses Jack Bates, putting it into her
+    hands.  "Good-night everybody and good luck."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He slammed the front door behind 'im and they 'eard 'im go off down the
+    road as if 'e was going for fire-engines.  Charlie sat there for a moment
+    struck all of a heap, and then 'e jumped up and dashed arter 'im.  He
+    just saw 'im disappearing round a corner, and he didn't see 'im agin for
+    a couple o' year arterwards, by which time the Sydney gal had 'ad three
+    or four young men arter 'im, and Emma, who 'ad changed her name to Smith,
+    was doing one o' the best businesses in the chandlery line in Poplar.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_4"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE CONSTABLE'S MOVE
+</h2>
+<a name="image-6"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/006.jpg" height="475" width="541"
+alt="'the Constable's Move.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched
+    on the fender.  His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the
+    table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her
+    half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come away, I tell you," he called.  "D'ye hear?  Come away.  You'll be
+    locked up if you don't."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He gave a little laugh at the sarcasm, and sticking his short pipe in his
+    mouth lurched slowly to the front-room door and scowled at his wife as
+    she lurked at the back of the window watching intently the furniture
+    which was being carried in next door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come away or else you'll be locked up," repeated Mr. Grummit.  "You
+    mustn't look at policemen's furniture; it's agin the law."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but, throwing appearances to the winds,
+    stepped to the window until her nose touched, as a walnut sideboard with
+    bevelled glass back was tenderly borne inside under the personal
+    supervision of Police-Constable Evans.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They'll be 'aving a pianner next," said the indignant Mr. Grummit,
+    peering from the depths of the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They've got one," responded his wife; "there's the end if it stickin' up
+    in the van."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit advanced and regarded the end fixedly.  "Did you throw all
+    them tin cans and things into their yard wot I told you to?" he demanded.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He picked up three of 'em while I was upstairs," replied his wife.  "I
+    'eard 'im tell her that they'd come in handy for paint and things."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr.
+    Grummit, "sneaking other people's property.  I didn't tell you to throw
+    good 'uns over, did I?  Wot d'ye mean by it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal
+    entrance of the piano.  The carman set it tenderly on the narrow
+    footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and
+    Mrs. Evans, raising the lid, struck a few careless chords.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Showing off," explained Mrs. Grummit, with a half turn; "and she's got
+    fingers like carrots."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's a disgrace to Mulberry Gardens to 'ave a copper come and live in
+    it," said the indignant Grummit; "and to come and live next to me!&mdash;
+    that's what I can't get over.  To come and live next door to a man wot
+    has been fined twice, and both times wrong.  Why, for two pins I'd go in
+    and smash 'is pianner first and 'im after it.  He won't live 'ere long,
+    you take my word for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why not?" inquired his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why?" repeated Mr. Grummit.  "Why?  Why, becos I'll make the place too
+    'ot to hold him.  Ain't there enough houses in Tunwich without 'im
+    a-coming and living next door to me?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    For a whole week the brain concealed in Mr. Grummit's bullet-shaped head
+    worked in vain, and his temper got correspondingly bad.  The day after
+    the Evans' arrival he had found his yard littered with tins which he
+    recognized as old acquaintances, and since that time they had travelled
+    backwards and forwards with monotonous regularity.  They sometimes made
+    as many as three journeys a day, and on one occasion the heavens opened
+    to drop a battered tin bucket on the back of Mr. Grummit as he was tying
+    his bootlace.  Five minutes later he spoke of the outrage to Mr. Evans,
+    who had come out to admire the sunset.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I heard something fall," said the constable, eyeing the pail curiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You threw it," said Mr. Grummit, breathing furiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Me?  Nonsense," said the other, easily.  "I was having tea in the
+    parlour with my wife and my mother-in-law, and my brother Joe and his
+    young lady."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Any more of 'em?" demanded the hapless Mr. Grummit, aghast at this list
+    of witnesses for an alibi.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It ain't a bad pail, if you look at it properly," said the constable.
+    "I should keep it if I was you; unless the owner offers a reward for it.
+    It'll hold enough water for your wants."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit flung indoors and, after wasting some time concocting
+    impossible measures of retaliation with his sympathetic partner, went off
+    to discuss affairs with his intimates at the <i>Bricklayers' Arms</i>.  The
+    company, although unanimously agreeing that Mr. Evans ought to be boiled,
+    were miserably deficient in ideas as to the means by which such a
+    desirable end was to be attained.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Make 'im a laughing-stock, that's the best thing," said an elderly
+    labourer.  "The police don't like being laughed at."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Ow?" demanded Mr. Grummit, with some asperity.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's plenty o' ways," said the old man.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I should find 'em out fast enough if I 'ad a bucket dropped on my back,
+    I know."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit made a retort the feebleness of which was somewhat balanced
+    by its ferocity, and subsided into glum silence.  His back still ached,
+    but, despite that aid to intellectual effort, the only ways he could
+    imagine of making the constable look foolish contained an almost certain
+    risk of hard labour for himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He pondered the question for a week, and meanwhile the tins&mdash;to the
+    secret disappointment of Mr. Evans&mdash;remained untouched in his yard.  For
+    the whole of the time he went about looking, as Mrs. Grummit expressed
+    it, as though his dinner had disagreed with him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've been talking to old Bill Smith," he said, suddenly, as he came in
+    one night.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit looked up, and noticed with wifely pleasure that he was
+    looking almost cheerful.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's given me a tip," said Mr. Grummit, with a faint smile; "a copper
+    mustn't come into a free-born Englishman's 'ouse unless he's invited."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot of it?" inquired his wife.  "You wasn't think of asking him in, was
+    you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit regarded her almost play-fully.  "If a copper comes in
+    without being told to," he continued, "he gets into trouble for it.  Now
+    d'ye see?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But he won't come," said the puzzled Mrs. Grummit.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit winked.  "Yes 'e will if you scream loud enough," he
+    retorted.  "Where's the copper-stick?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Have you gone mad?" demanded his wife, "or do you think I 'ave?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You go up into the bedroom," said Mr. Grummit, emphasizing his remarks
+    with his forefinger.  "I come up and beat the bed black and blue with the
+    copper-stick; you scream for mercy and call out 'Help!' 'Murder!' and
+    things like that.  Don't call out 'Police!' cos Bill ain't sure about
+    that part.  Evans comes bursting in to save your life&mdash;I'll leave the
+    door on the latch&mdash;and there you are.  He's sure to get into trouble for
+    it.  Bill said so.  He's made a study o' that sort o' thing."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit pondered this simple plan so long that her husband began to
+    lose patience.  At last, against her better sense, she rose and fetched
+    the weapon in question.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And you be careful what you're hitting," she said, as they went upstairs
+    to bed.  "We'd better have 'igh words first, I s'pose?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You pitch into me with your tongue," said Mr. Grummit, amiably.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit, first listening to make sure that the constable and his
+    wife were in the bedroom the other side of the flimsy wall, complied, and
+    in a voice that rose gradually to a piercing falsetto told Mr. Grummit
+    things that had been rankling in her mind for some months.  She raked up
+    misdemeanours that he had long since forgotten, and, not content with
+    that, had a fling at the entire Grummit family, beginning with her
+    mother-in-law and ending with Mr. Grummit's youngest sister.  The hand
+    that held the copper-stick itched.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Any more to say?" demanded Mr. Grummit advancing upon her.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit emitted a genuine shriek, and Mr. Grummit, suddenly
+    remembering himself, stopped short and attacked the bed with
+    extraordinary fury.  The room resounded with the blows, and the efforts
+    of Mrs. Grummit were a revelation even to her husband.
+</p>
+<a name="image-7"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/007.jpg" height="903" width="535"
+alt="'mr. Grummit, Suddenly Remembering Himself, Stopped Short
+And Attacked the Bed With Extraordinary Fury.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    "I can hear 'im moving," whispered Mr. Grummit, pausing to take breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Mur&mdash;der!" wailed his wife.  "Help!  Help!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit, changing the stick into his left hand, renewed the attack;
+    Mrs. Grummit, whose voice was becoming exhausted, sought a temporary
+    relief in moans.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Is&mdash;he&mdash;&mdash;deaf?" panted the wife-beater, "or wot?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He knocked over a chair, and Mrs. Grummit contrived another frenzied
+    scream.  A loud knocking sounded on the wall.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Hel&mdash;lp!" moaned Mrs. Grummit.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Halloa, there!" came the voice of the constable.  "Why don't you keep
+    that baby quiet?  We can't get a wink of sleep."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit dropped the stick on the bed and turned a dazed face to his
+    wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He&mdash;he's afraid&mdash;to come in," he gasped.  "Keep it up, old gal."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He took up the stick again and Mrs. Grummit did her best, but the heart
+    had gone out of the thing, and he was about to give up the task as
+    hopeless when the door below was heard to open with a bang.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Here he is," cried the jubilant Grummit.  "Now!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    His wife responded, and at the same moment the bedroom door was flung
+    open, and her brother, who had been hastily fetched by the neighbours on
+    the other side, burst into the room and with one hearty blow sent Mr.
+    Grummit sprawling.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Hit my sister, will you?" he roared, as the astounded Mr. Grummit rose.
+    "Take that!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit took it, and several other favours, while his wife, tugging
+    at her brother, endeavoured to explain.  It was not, however, until Mr.
+    Grummit claimed the usual sanctuary of the defeated by refusing to rise
+    that she could make herself heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Joke?" repeated her brother, incredulously.  "Joke?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit in a husky voice explained.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Her brother passed from incredulity to amazement and from amazement to
+    mirth.  He sat down gurgling, and the indignant face of the injured
+    Grummit only added to his distress.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes.  "Don't
+    look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the
+    other.  "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done.  So long."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the
+    window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside.
+    Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he
+    had to say and laugh afterwards.  Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and
+    in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night.  Even the
+    sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed
+    failed to move him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes
+    and made up a bed in a corner of the room.  In a short time she was fast
+    asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further
+    impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work.  The
+    constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit
+    felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully.  "My word!  Good
+    gracious!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The constable stared at him.  "She has been knocking you about," he
+    gasped.  "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then!  I thought it
+    sounded loud.  Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up?
+    I should be pleased to take her."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion.  "Wot would it cost if I
+    set about you?" he demanded, huskily.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously.  The constable,
+    lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile.
+    "That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't.  Why not go and
+    ask your wife's brother to oblige you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He went in laughing and closed the door, and Mr. Grummit, after a
+    frenzied outburst, proceeded on his way, returning the smiles of such
+    acquaintances as he passed with an icy stare or a strongly-worded offer
+    to make them laugh the other side of their face.  The rest of the day he
+    spent in working so hard that he had no time to reply to the anxious
+    inquiries of his fellow-workmen.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He came home at night glum and silent, the hardship of not being able to
+    give Mr. Evans his deserts without incurring hard labour having weighed
+    on his spirits all day.  To avoid the annoyance of the piano next door,
+    which was slowly and reluctantly yielding up "<i>The Last Rose of Summer</i>"
+    note by note, he went out at the back, and the first thing he saw was Mr.
+    Evans mending his path with tins and other bric-a-brac.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Nothing like it," said the constable, looking up.  "Your missus gave 'em
+    to us this morning.  A little gravel on top, and there you are."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He turned whistling to his work again, and the other, after endeavouring
+    in vain to frame a suitable reply, took a seat on an inverted wash-tub
+    and lit his pipe.  His one hope was that Constable Evans was going to try
+    and cultivate a garden.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The hope was realized a few days later, and Mr. Grummit at the back
+    window sat gloating over a dozen fine geraniums, some lobelias and
+    calceolarias, which decorated the constable's plot of ground.  He could
+    not sleep for thinking of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He rose early the next morning, and, after remarking to Mrs. Grummit that
+    Mr. Evans's flowers looked as though they wanted rain, went off to his
+    work.  The cloud which had been on his spirits for some time had lifted,
+    and he whistled as he walked.  The sight of flowers in front windows
+    added to his good humour.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was still in good spirits when he left off work that afternoon, but
+    some slight hesitation about returning home sent him to the Brick-layers'
+    firms instead.  He stayed there until closing time, and then, being still
+    disinclined for home, paid a visit to Bill Smith, who lived the other
+    side of Tunwich.  By the time he started for home it was nearly midnight.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The outskirts of the town were deserted and the houses in darkness.  The
+    clock of Tunwich church struck twelve, and the last stroke was just dying
+    away as he turned a corner and ran almost into the arms of the man he had
+    been trying to avoid.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Halloa!" said Constable Evans, sharply.  "Here, I want a word with you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit quailed.  "With me, sir?" he said, with involuntary respect.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him.
+    "Flowers?  What flowers?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You know well enough," retorted the constable.  "You got over my fence
+    last night and smashed all my flowers down."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit.  "Why, I love
+    flowers.  You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot
+    you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You know all about it," said the constable, choking.  "I shall take out
+    a summons against you for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ho!" said Mr. Grummit.  "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Never you mind the time," said the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My wife's brother&mdash;the one you're so fond of&mdash;slept in my 'ouse last
+    night.  He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it,
+    it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great
+    deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the
+    biggest hiding you've ever had in your life."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If you wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Grummit, yearningly, "I'd arf
+    murder you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The two men eyed each other wistfully, loth to part.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I gave you what you deserve I should get into trouble," said the
+    constable.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I gave you a quarter of wot you ought to 'ave I should go to quod,"
+    sighed Mr. Grummit.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I wouldn't put you there," said the constable, earnestly; "I swear I
+    wouldn't."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Everything's beautiful and quiet," said Mr. Grummit, trembling with
+    eagerness, "and I wouldn't say a word to a soul.  I'll take my solemn
+    davit I wouldn't."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "When I think o' my garden&mdash;" began the constable.  With a sudden
+    movement he knocked off Mr. Grummit's cap, and then, seizing him by the
+    coat, began to hustle him along the road.  In the twinkling of an eye
+    they had closed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit,
+    forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him.  The
+    constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn
+    and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a
+    fortnight at least.  He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet,
+    tried mechanically to punch it into shape.  He stuck the battered relic
+    on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back&mdash;awed, despite himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It was a fair fight," he stammered.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The constable waved him away.  "Get out o' my sight before I change my
+    mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll
+    be the worse for you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other.  He took another look at
+    his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home.
+    The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the
+    lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a
+    prisoner, would satisfy the inspector.  A button which was hanging by a
+    thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and
+    placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the
+    direction of the noise.  It became louder and more imperative, and cries
+    of "Police!" became distinctly audible.  He quickened into a run, and
+    turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a
+    large house.  Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards
+    them.  The constable arrived out of breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the
+    fence.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the
+    householder.  "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and
+    the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light.  "Are
+    you hurt?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly.  To gain
+    time he blew a loud call on his whistle.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "The rascals!" continued the other.  "I think I should know the big chap
+    with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Evans blew his whistle again&mdash;thoughtfully.  The opportunity seemed
+    too good to lose.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Did they get anything?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not a thing," said the owner, triumphantly.  "I was disturbed just in
+    time."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The constable gave a slight gulp.  "I saw the three running by the side
+    of the road," he said, slowly.  "Their behaviour seemed suspicious, so I
+    collared the big one, but they set on me like wild cats.  They had me
+    down three times; the last time I laid my head open against the kerb, and
+    when I came to my senses again they had gone."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He took off his battered helmet with a flourish and, amid a murmur of
+    sympathy, displayed a nasty cut on his head.  A sergeant and a constable,
+    both running, appeared round the corner and made towards' them.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Get back to the station and make your report," said the former, as
+    Constable Evans, in a somewhat defiant voice, repeated his story.
+    "You've done your best; I can see that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Evans, enacting to perfection the part of a wounded hero, limped
+    painfully off, praying devoutly as he went that the criminals might make
+    good their escape.  If not, he reflected that the word of a policeman was
+    at least equal to that of three burglars.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He repeated his story at the station, and, after having his head dressed,
+    was sent home and advised to keep himself quiet for a day or two.  He was
+    off duty for four days, and, the Tunwich Gazette having devoted a column
+    to the affair, headed "A Gallant Constable," modestly secluded himself
+    from the public gaze for the whole of that time.
+</p>
+<p>
+    To Mr. Grummit, who had read the article in question until he could have
+    repeated it backwards, this modesty was particularly trying.  The
+    constable's yard was deserted and the front door ever closed.  Once Mr.
+    Grummit even went so far as to tap with his nails on the front parlour
+    window, and the only response was the sudden lowering of the blind.  It
+    was not until a week afterwards that his eyes were gladdened by a sight
+    of the constable sitting in his yard; and fearing that even then he might
+    escape him, he ran out on tip-toe and put his face over the fence before
+    the latter was aware of his presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot about that 'ere burglary?" he demanded in truculent tones.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Good evening, Grummit," said the constable, with a patronizing air.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot about that burglary?" repeated Mr. Grummit, with a scowl.  "I don't
+    believe you ever saw a burglar."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Evans rose and stretched himself gracefully.  "You'd better run
+    indoors, my good man," he said, slowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Telling all them lies about burglars," continued the indignant Mr.
+    Grummit, producing his newspaper and waving it.  "Why, I gave you that
+    black eye, I smashed your 'elmet, I cut your silly 'ead open, I&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You've been drinking," said the other, severely.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You mean to say I didn't?" demanded Mr. Grummit, ferociously.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Evans came closer and eyed him steadily.  "I don't know what you're
+    talking about," he said, calmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit, about to speak, stopped appalled at such hardihood.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Of course, if you mean to say that you were one o' them burglars,"
+    continued the constable, "why, say it and I'll take you with pleasure.
+    Come to think of it, I did seem to remember one o' their voices."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit, with his eyes fixed on the other's, backed a couple of yards
+    and breathed heavily.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "About your height, too, he was," mused the constable.  "I hope for your
+    sake you haven't been saying to anybody else what you said to me just
+    now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit shook his head.  "Not a word," he faltered.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's all right, then," said Mr. Evans.  "I shouldn't like to be hard
+    on a neighbour; not that we shall be neighbours much longer."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit, feeling that a reply was expected of him, gave utterance to
+    a feeble "Oh!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No," said Mr. Evans, looking round disparagingly.  "It ain't good enough
+    for us now; I was promoted to sergeant this morning.  A sergeant can't
+    live in a common place like this."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Grummit, a prey to a sickening fear, drew near the fence again.  "A&mdash;
+    a sergeant?" he stammered.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Evans smiled and gazed carefully at a distant cloud.  "For my bravery
+    with them burglars the other night, Grummit," he said, modestly.  "I
+    might have waited years if it hadn't been for them."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He nodded to the frantic Grummit and turned away; Mr. Grummit, without
+    any adieu at all, turned and crept back to the house.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_5"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    BOB'S REDEMPTION
+</h2>
+<a name="image-8"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/008.jpg" height="375" width="375"
+alt="'bob's Redemption.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    "GRATITOODE!" said the night-watchman, with a hard laugh.  "<i>Hmf!</i>  Don't
+    talk to me about gratitoode; I've seen too much of it.  If people wot
+    I've helped in my time 'ad only done arf their dooty&mdash;arf, mind you&mdash;I
+    should be riding in my carriage."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Forgetful of the limitations of soap-boxes he attempted to illustrate his
+    remark by lolling, and nearly went over backwards.  Recovering himself by
+    an effort he gazed sternly across the river and smoked fiercely.  It was
+    evident that he was brooding over an ill-used past.
+</p>
+<p>
+    'Arry Thomson was one of them, he said, at last.  For over six months I
+    wrote all 'is love-letters for him, 'e being an iggernerant sort of man
+    and only being able to do the kisses at the end, which he always insisted
+    on doing 'imself: being jealous.  Only three weeks arter he was married
+    'e come up to where I was standing one day and set about me without
+    saying a word.  I was a single man at the time and I didn't understand
+    it.  My idea was that he 'ad gone mad, and, being pretty artful and
+    always 'aving a horror of mad people, I let 'im chase me into a
+    police-station.  Leastways, I would ha' let 'im, but he didn't come,
+    and I all but got fourteen days for being drunk and disorderly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then there was Bill Clark.  He 'ad been keeping comp'ny with a gal and
+    got tired of it, and to oblige 'im I went to her and told 'er he was a
+    married man with five children.  Bill was as pleased as Punch at fust,
+    but as soon as she took up with another chap he came round to see me and
+    said as I'd ruined his life.  We 'ad words about it&mdash;naturally&mdash;and I did
+    ruin it then to the extent of a couple o' ribs.  I went to see 'im in the
+    horsepittle&mdash;place I've always been fond of&mdash;and the langwidge he used to
+    me was so bad that they sent for the Sister to 'ear it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    That's on'y two out of dozens I could name.  Arf the unpleasantnesses in
+    my life 'ave come out of doing kindnesses to people, and all the
+    gratitoode I've 'ad for it I could put in a pint-pot with a pint o' beer
+    already in it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The only case o' real gratitoode I ever heard of 'appened to a shipmate
+    o' mine&mdash;a young chap named Bob Evans.  Coming home from Auckland in a
+    barque called the <i>Dragon Fly</i> he fell overboard, and another chap named
+    George Crofts, one o' the best swimmers I ever knew, went overboard arter
+    'im and saved his life.
+</p>
+<p>
+    We was hardly moving at the time, and the sea was like a duck pond, but
+    to 'ear Bob Evans talk you'd ha' thought that George Crofts was the
+    bravest-'arted chap that ever lived.  He 'adn't liked him afore, same as
+    the rest of us, George being a sly, mean sort o' chap; but arter George
+    'ad saved his life 'e couldn't praise 'im enough.  He said that so long
+    as he 'ad a crust George should share it, and wotever George asked 'im he
+    should have.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The unfortnit part of it was that George took 'im at his word, and all
+    the rest of the v'y'ge he acted as though Bob belonged to 'im, and by the
+    time we got into the London river Bob couldn't call his soul 'is own.  He
+    used to take a room when he was ashore and live very steady, as 'e was
+    saving up to get married, and as soon as he found that out George invited
+    'imself to stay with him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It won't cost you a bit more," he ses, "not if you work it properly."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob didn't work it properly, but George having saved his life, and never
+    letting 'im forget it, he didn't like to tell him so.  He thought he'd
+    let 'im see gradual that he'd got to be careful because of 'is gal, and
+    the fust evening they was ashore 'e took 'im along with 'im there to tea.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Gerty Mitchell&mdash;that was the gal's name&mdash;'adn't heard of Bob's accident,
+    and when she did she gave a little scream, and putting 'er arms round his
+    neck, began to kiss 'im right in front of George and her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You ought to give him one too," ses Mrs. Mitchell, pointing to George.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George wiped 'is mouth on the back of his 'and, but Gerty pretended not
+    to 'ear.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Fancy if you'd been drownded!" she ses, hugging Bob agin.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He was pretty near," ses George, shaking his 'ead.  "I'm a pore swimmer,
+    but I made up my mind either to save 'im or else go down to a watery
+    grave myself."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He wiped his mouth on the back of his 'and agin, but all the notice Gerty
+    took of it was to send her young brother Ted out for some beer.  Then
+    they all 'ad supper together, and Mrs. Mitchell drank good luck to George
+    in a glass o' beer, and said she 'oped that 'er own boy would grow up
+    like him.  "Let 'im grow up a good and brave man, that's all I ask," she
+    ses.  "I don't care about 'is looks."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He might have both," ses George, sharp-like.  "Why not?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Mitchell said she supposed he might, and then she cuffed young Ted's
+    ears for making a noise while 'e was eating, and then cuffed 'im agin for
+    saying that he'd finished 'is supper five minutes ago.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George and Bob walked 'ome together, and all the way there George said
+    wot a pretty gal Gerty was and 'ow lucky it was for Bob that he 'adn't
+    been drownded.  He went round to tea with 'im the next day to Mrs.
+    Mitchell's, and arter tea, when Bob and Gerty said they was going out to
+    spend the evening together, got 'imself asked too.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They took a tram-car and went to a music-hall, and Bob paid for the three
+    of 'em.  George never seemed to think of putting his 'and in his pocket,
+    and even arter the music-hall, when they all went into a shop and 'ad
+    stewed eels, he let Bob pay.
+</p>
+<p>
+    As I said afore, Bob Evans was chock-full of gratefulness, and it seemed
+    only fair that he shouldn't grumble at spending a little over the man wot
+    'ad risked 'is life to save his; but wot with keeping George at his room,
+    and paying for 'im every time they went out, he was spending a lot more
+    money than 'e could afford.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're on'y young once, Bob," George said to him when 'e made a remark
+    one arternoon as to the fast way his money was going, "and if it hadn't
+    ha' been for me you'd never 'ave lived to grow old."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Wot with spending the money and always 'aving George with them when they
+    went out, it wasn't long afore Bob and Gerty 'ad a quarrel.  "I don't
+    like a pore-spirited man," she ses.  "Two's company and three's none,
+    and, besides, why can't he pay for 'imself?  He's big enough.  Why should
+    you spend your money on 'im?  He never pays a farthing."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob explained that he couldn't say anything because 'e owed his life to
+    George, but 'e might as well 'ave talked to a lamp-post.  The more he
+    argued the more angry Gerty got, and at last she ses, "Two's company and
+    three's none, and if you and me can't go out without George Crofts, then
+    me and 'im 'll go out with-out you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She was as good as her word, too, and the next night, while Bob 'ad gone
+    out to get some 'bacca, she went off alone with George.  It was ten
+    o'clock afore they came back agin, and Gerty's eyes were all shining and
+    'er cheeks as pink as roses.  She shut 'er mother up like a concertina
+    the moment she began to find fault with 'er, and at supper she sat next
+    to George and laughed at everything 'e said.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George and Bob walked all the way 'ome arter supper without saying a
+    word, but arter they got to their room George took a side-look at Bob,
+    and then he ses, suddenlike, "Look 'ere!  I saved your life, didn't I?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You did," ses Bob, "and I thank you for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I saved your life," ses George agin, very solemn.  "If it hadn't ha'
+    been for me you couldn't ha' married anybody."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's true," ses Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Me and Gerty 'ave been having a talk," ses George, bending down to undo
+    his boots.  "We've been getting on very well together; you can't 'elp
+    your feelings, and the long and the short of it is, the pore gal has
+    fallen in love with me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob didn't say a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If you look at it this way it's fair enough," ses George.  "I gave you
+    your life and you give me your gal.  We're quits now.  You don't owe me
+    anything and I don't owe you anything.  That's the way Gerty puts it, and
+    she told me to tell you so."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If&mdash;if she don't want me I'm agreeable," ses Bob, in a choking voice.
+    "We'll call it quits, and next time I tumble overboard I 'ope you won't
+    be handy."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He took Gerty's photygraph out of 'is box and handed it to George.
+    "You've got more right to it now than wot I 'ave," he ses.  "I shan't go
+    round there any more; I shall look out for a ship to-morrow."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Crofts said that perhaps it was the best thing he could do, and 'e
+    asked 'im in a offhand sort o' way 'ow long the room was paid up for.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mrs. Mitchell 'ad a few words to say about it next day, but Gerty told
+    'er to save 'er breath for walking upstairs.  The on'y thing that George
+    didn't like when they went out was that young Ted was with them, but
+    Gerty said she preferred it till she knew 'im better; and she 'ad so much
+    to say about his noble behaviour in saving life that George gave way.
+    They went out looking at the shops, George thinking that that was the
+    cheapest way of spending an evening, and they were as happy as possible
+    till Gerty saw a brooch she liked so much in a window that he couldn't
+    get 'er away.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It is a beauty," she ses.  "I don't know when I've seen a brooch I liked
+    better.  Look here!  Let's all guess the price and then go in and see
+    who's right."
+</p>
+<p>
+    They 'ad their guesses, and then they went in and asked, and as soon as
+    Gerty found that it was only three-and-sixpence she began to feel in her
+    pocket for 'er purse, just like your wife does when you go out with 'er,
+    knowing all the time that it's on the mantelpiece with twopence-ha'penny
+    and a cough lozenge in it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I must ha' left it at 'ome," she ses, looking at George.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Just wot I've done," ses George, arter patting 'is pockets.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Gerty bit 'er lips and, for a minute or two, be civil to George she could
+    not.  Then she gave a little smile and took 'is arm agin, and they walked
+    on talking and laughing till she turned round of a sudden and asked a big
+    chap as was passing wot 'e was shoving 'er for.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Shoving you?" ses he.  "Wot do you think I want to shove you for?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you talk to me," ses Gerty, firing up.  "George, make 'im beg my
+    pardon."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You ought to be more careful," ses George, in a gentle sort o' way.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Make 'im beg my pardon," ses Gerty, stamping 'er foot; "if he don't,
+    knock 'im down."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes, knock 'im down," ses the big man, taking hold o' George's cap and
+    rumpling his 'air.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Pore George, who was never much good with his fists, hit 'im in the
+    chest, and the next moment he was on 'is back in the middle o' the road
+    wondering wot had 'appened to 'im.  By the time 'e got up the other man
+    was arf a mile away; and young Ted stepped up and wiped 'im down with a
+    pocket-'andkerchief while Gerty explained to 'im 'ow she saw 'im slip on
+    a piece o' banana peel.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's 'ard lines," she ses; "but never mind, you frightened 'im away,
+    and I don't wonder at it.  You do look terrible when you're angry,
+    George; I didn't know you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She praised 'im all the way 'ome, and if it 'adn't been for his mouth and
+    nose George would 'ave enjoyed it more than 'e did.  She told 'er mother
+    how 'e had flown at a big man wot 'ad insulted her, and Mrs. Mitchell
+    shook her 'ead at 'im and said his bold spirit would lead 'im into
+    trouble afore he 'ad done.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They didn't seem to be able to make enough of 'im, and next day when he
+    went round Gerty was so upset at the sight of 'is bruises that he thought
+    she was going to cry.  When he had 'ad his tea she gave 'im a cigar she
+    had bought for 'im herself, and when he 'ad finished smoking it she
+    smiled at him, and said that she was going to take 'im out for a pleasant
+    evening to try and make up to 'im for wot he 'ad suffered for 'er.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We're all going to stand treat to each other," she ses.  "Bob always
+    would insist on paying for everything, but I like to feel a bit
+    independent.  Give and take&mdash;that's the way I like to do things."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's nothing like being independent," ses George.  "Bob ought to ha'
+    known that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm sure it's the best plan," ses Gerty.  "Now, get your 'at on.  We're
+    going to a theayter, and Ted shall pay the 'bus fares."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George wanted to ask about the theayter, but 'e didn't like to, and arter
+    Gerty was dressed they went out and Ted paid the 'bus fares like a man.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Here you are," ses Gerty, as the 'bus stopped outside the theayter.
+    "Hurry up and get the tickets, George; ask for three upper circles."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She bustled George up to the pay place, and as soon as she 'ad picked out
+    the seats she grabbed 'old of the tickets and told George to make haste.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Twelve shillings it is," ses the man, as George put down arf a crown.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Twelve?" ses George, beginning to stammer.  "Twelve?  Twelve?  Twel&mdash;?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Twelve shillings," ses the man; "three upper circles you've 'ad."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George was going to fetch Gerty back and 'ave cheaper seats, but she 'ad
+    gone inside with young Ted, and at last, arter making an awful fuss, he
+    paid the rest o' the money and rushed in arter her, arf crazy at the idea
+    o' spending so much money.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Make 'aste," ses Gerty, afore he could say anything; "the band 'as just
+    begun."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She started running upstairs, and she was so excited that, when they got
+    their seats and George started complaining about the price, she didn't
+    pay any attention to wot he was saying, but kept pointing out ladies'
+    dresses to 'im in w'ispers and wondering wot they 'ad paid for them.
+    George gave it up at last, and then he sat wondering whether he 'ad done
+    right arter all in taking Bob's gal away from him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Gerty enjoyed it very much, but when the curtain came down after the
+    first act she leaned back in her chair and looked up at George and said
+    she felt faint and thought she'd like to 'ave an ice-cream.  "And you
+    'ave one too, dear," she ses, when young Ted 'ad got up and beckoned to
+    the gal, "and Ted 'ud like one too, I'm sure."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She put her 'ead on George's shoulder and looked up at 'im.  Then she put
+    her 'and on his and stroked it, and George, reckoning that arter all
+    ice-creams were on'y a ha'penny or at the most a penny each, altered 'is
+    mind about not spending any more money and ordered three.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The way he carried on when the gal said they was three shillings was
+    alarming.  At fust 'e thought she was 'aving a joke with 'im, and it took
+    another gal and the fireman and an old gentleman wot was sitting behind
+    'im to persuade 'im different.  He was so upset that 'e couldn't eat his
+    arter paying for it, and Ted and Gerty had to finish it for 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They're expensive, but they're worth the money," ses Gerty.  "You are
+    good to me, George.  I could go on eating 'em all night, but you mustn't
+    fling your money away like this always."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll see to that," ses George, very bitter.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought we was going to stand treat to each other?  That was the idea,
+    I understood."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So we are," ses Gerty.  "Ted stood the 'bus fares, didn't he?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He did," ses George, "wot there was of 'em; but wot about you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Me?" ses Gerty, drawing her 'ead back and staring at 'im.  "Why, 'ave
+    you forgot that cigar already, George?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    George opened 'is mouth, but 'e couldn't speak a word.  He sat looking at
+    'er and making a gasping noise in 'is throat, and fortunately just as 'e
+    got 'is voice back the curtain went up agin, and everybody said,
+    "<i>H'sh!</i>"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He couldn't enjoy the play at all, 'e was so upset, and he began to see
+    more than ever 'ow wrong he 'ad been in taking Bob's gal away from 'im.
+    He walked downstairs into the street like a man in a dream, with Gerty
+    sticking to 'is arm and young Ted treading on 'is heels behind.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Now, you mustn't waste any more money, George," ses Gerty, when they got
+    outside.  "We'll walk 'ome."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George 'ad got arf a mind to say something about a 'bus, but he
+    remembered in time that very likely young Ted hadn't got any more money.
+    Then Gerty said she knew a short cut, and she took them, walking along
+    little, dark, narrow streets and places, until at last, just as George
+    thought they must be pretty near 'ome, she began to dab her eyes with 'er
+    pocket-'andkerchief and say she'd lost 'er way.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You two go 'ome and leave me," she ses, arf crying.  "I can't walk
+    another step."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Where are we?" ses George, looking round.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't know," ses Gerty.  "I couldn't tell you if you paid me.  I must
+    'ave taken a wrong turning.  Oh, hurrah!  Here's a cab!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Afore George could stop 'er she held up 'er umbrella, and a 'ansom cab,
+    with bells on its horse, crossed the road and pulled up in front of 'em.
+    Ted nipped in first and Gerty followed 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Tell 'im the address, dear, and make 'aste and get in," ses Gerty.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George told the cabman, and then he got in and sat on Ted's knee, partly
+    on Gerty's umbrella, and mostly on nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You are good to me, George," ses Gerty, touching the back of 'is neck
+    with the brim of her hat.  "It ain't often I get a ride in a cab.  All
+    the time I was keeping company with Bob we never 'ad one once.  I only
+    wish I'd got the money to pay for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George, who was going to ask a question, stopped 'imself, and then he
+    kept striking matches and trying to read all about cab fares on a bill in
+    front of 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Ow are we to know 'ow many miles it is?" he ses, at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't know," ses Gerty; "leave it to the cabman.  It's his bisness,
+    ain't it?  And if 'e don't know he must suffer for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was hardly a soul in Gerty's road when they got there, but afore
+    George 'ad settled with the cabman there was a policeman moving the crowd
+    on and arf the winders in the road up.  By the time George had paid 'im
+    and the cabman 'ad told him wot 'e looked like, Gerty and Ted 'ad
+    disappeared indoors, all the lights was out, and, in a state o' mind that
+    won't bear thinking of, George walked 'ome to his lodging.
+</p>
+<a name="image-9"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/009.jpg" height="910" width="539"
+alt="'afore George Had Settled With the Cabman, There Was A
+Policeman Moving the Crowd On.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Bob was asleep when he got there, but 'e woke 'im up and told 'im about
+    it, and then arter a time he said that he thought Bob ought to pay arf
+    because he 'ad saved 'is life.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Cert'nly not," ses Bob.  "We're quits now; that was the arrangement.
+    I only wish it was me spending the money on her; I shouldn't grumble."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George didn't get a wink o' sleep all night for thinking of the money he
+    'ad spent, and next day when he went round he 'ad almost made up 'is mind
+    to tell Bob that if 'e liked to pay up the money he could 'ave Gerty
+    back; but she looked so pretty, and praised 'im up so much for 'is
+    generosity, that he began to think better of it.  One thing 'e was
+    determined on, and that was never to spend money like that agin for fifty
+    Gertys.
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was a very sensible man there that evening that George liked very
+    much.  His name was Uncle Joe, and when Gerty was praising George to 'is
+    face for the money he 'ad been spending, Uncle Joe, instead o' looking
+    pleased, shook his 'ead over it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Young people will be young people, I know," he ses, "but still I don't
+    approve of extravagance.  Bob Evans would never 'ave spent all that money
+    over you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Bob Evans ain't everybody," ses Mrs. Mitchell, standing up for Gerty.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He was steady, anyway," ses Uncle Joe.  "Besides, Gerty ought not to ha'
+    let Mr. Crofts spend his money like that.  She could ha' prevented it if
+    she'd ha' put 'er foot down and insisted on it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was so solemn about it that everybody began to feel a bit upset, and
+    Gerty borrowed Ted's pocket-'andkerchief, and then wiped 'er eyes on the
+    cuff of her dress instead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, well," ses Uncle Joe; "I didn't mean to be 'ard, but don't do it
+    no more.  You are young people, and can't afford it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We must 'ave a little pleasure sometimes," ses Gerty.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Yes, I know," ses Uncle Joe; "but there's moderation in everything.
+    Look 'ere, it's time somebody paid for Mr. Crofts.  To-morrow's Saturday,
+    and, if you like, I'll take you all to the Crystal Palace."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Gerty jumped up off of 'er chair and kissed 'im, while Mrs. Mitchell said
+    she knew 'is bark was worse than 'is bite, and asked 'im who was wasting
+    his money now?
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You meet me at London Bridge Station at two o'clock," ses Uncle Joe,
+    getting up to go.  "It ain't extravagance for a man as can afford it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He shook 'ands with George Crofts and went, and, arter George 'ad stayed
+    long enough to hear a lot o' things about Uncle Joe which made 'im think
+    they'd get on very well together, he went off too.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They all turned up very early the next arternoon, and Gerty was dressed
+    so nice that George couldn't take his eyes off of her.  Besides her there
+    was Mrs. Mitchell and Ted and a friend of 'is named Charlie Smith.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They waited some time, but Uncle Joe didn't turn up, and they all got
+    looking at the clock and talking about it, and 'oping he wouldn't make
+    'em miss the train.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Here he comes!" ses Ted, at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Uncle Joe came rushing in, puffing and blowing as though he'd bust.
+    "Take 'em on by this train, will you?" he ses, catching 'old o' George by
+    the arm.  "I've just been stopped by a bit o' business I must do, and
+    I'll come on by the next, or as soon arter as I can."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He rushed off again, puffing and blowing his 'ardest, in such a hurry
+    that he forgot to give George the money for the tickets.  However, George
+    borrowed a pencil of Mrs. Mitchell in the train, and put down on paper
+    'ow much they cost, and Mrs. Mitchell said if George didn't like to
+    remind 'im she would.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They left young Ted and Charlie to stay near the station when they got to
+    the Palace, Uncle Joe 'aving forgotten to say where he'd meet 'em, but
+    train arter train came in without 'im, and at last the two boys gave it
+    up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We're sure to run across 'im sooner or later," ses Gerty.  "Let's 'ave
+    something to eat; I'm so hungry."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George said something about buns and milk, but Gerty took 'im up sharp.
+    "Buns and milk?" she ses.  "Why, uncle would never forgive us if we
+    spoilt his treat like that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    She walked into a refreshment place and they 'ad cold meat and bread and
+    pickles and beer and tarts and cheese, till even young Ted said he'd 'ad
+    enough, but still they couldn't see any signs of Uncle Joe.  They went on
+    to the roundabouts to look for 'im, and then into all sorts o' shows at
+    sixpence a head, but still there was no signs of 'im, and George had 'ad
+    to start on a fresh bit o' paper to put down wot he'd spent.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I suppose he must ha' been detained on important business," ses Gerty,
+    at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Unless it's one of 'is jokes," ses Mrs. Mitchell, shaking her 'ead.
+    "You know wot your uncle is, Gerty."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There now, I never thought o' that," ses Gerty, with a start; "p'r'aps
+    it is."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Joke?"  ses George, choking and staring from one to the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I was wondering where he'd get the money from," ses Mrs. Mitchell to
+    Gerty.  "I see it all now; I never see such a man for a bit o' fun in all
+    my born days.  And the solemn way he went on last night, too.  Why, he
+    must ha' been laughing in 'is sleeve all the time.  It's as good as a
+    play."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Look here!" ses George, 'ardly able to speak; "do you mean to tell me he
+    never meant to come?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm afraid not," ses Mrs. Mitchell, "knowing wot he is.  But don't you
+    worry; I'll give him a bit o' my mind when I see 'im."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Crofts felt as though he'd burst, and then 'e got his breath, and
+    the things 'e said about Uncle Joe was so awful that Mrs. Mitchell told
+    the boys to go away.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "How dare you talk of my uncle like that?" ses Gerty, firing up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You forget yourself, George," ses Mrs. Mitchell.  "You'll like 'im when
+    you get to know 'im better."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you call me George," ses George Crofts, turning on 'er.  "I've
+    been done, that's wot I've been.  I 'ad fourteen pounds when I was paid
+    off, and it's melting like butter."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, we've enjoyed ourselves," ses Gerty, "and that's what money was
+    given us for.  I'm sure those two boys 'ave had a splendid time, thanks
+    to you.  Don't go and spoil all by a little bit o' temper."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Temper!" ses George, turning on her.  "I've done with you, I wouldn't
+    marry you if you was the on'y gal in the world.  I wouldn't marry you if
+    you paid me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh, indeed!" ses Gerty; "but if you think you can get out of it like
+    that you're mistaken.  I've lost my young man through you, and I'm not
+    going to lose you too.  I'll send my two big cousins round to see you
+    to-morrow."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They won't put up with no nonsense, I can tell you," ses Mrs. Mitchell.
+</p>
+<p>
+    She called the boys to her, and then she and Gerty, arter holding their
+    'eads very high and staring at George, went off and left 'im alone.  He
+    went straight off 'ome, counting 'is money all the way and trying to make
+    it more, and, arter telling Bob 'ow he'd been treated, and trying hard to
+    get 'im to go shares in his losses, packed up his things and cleared out,
+    all boiling over with temper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob was so dazed he couldn't make head or tail out of it, but 'e went
+    round to see Gerty the first thing next morning, and she explained things
+    to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't know when I've enjoyed myself so much," she ses, wiping her
+    eyes, "but I've had enough gadding about for once, and if you come round
+    this evening we'll have a nice quiet time together looking at the
+    furniture shops."
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_6"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    OVER THE SIDE
+</h2>
+<a name="image-10"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/010.jpg" height="779" width="360"
+alt="'over the Side.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Of all classes of men, those who follow the sea are probably the most
+    prone to superstition.  Afloat upon the black waste of waters, at the
+    mercy of wind and sea, with vast depths and strange creatures below them,
+    a belief in the supernatural is easier than ashore, under the cheerful
+    gas-lamps.  Strange stories of the sea are plentiful, and an incident
+    which happened within my own experience has made me somewhat chary of
+    dubbing a man fool or coward because he has encountered something he
+    cannot explain.  There are stories of the supernatural with prosaic
+    sequels; there are others to which the sequel has never been published.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I was fifteen years old at the time, and as my father, who had a strong
+    objection to the sea, would not apprentice me to it, I shipped before the
+    mast on a sturdy little brig called the <i>Endeavour,</i> bound for Riga.  She
+    was a small craft, but the skipper was as fine a seaman as one could wish
+    for, and, in fair weather, an easy man to sail under.  Most boys have a
+    rough time of it when they first go to sea, but, with a strong sense of
+    what was good for me, I had attached myself to a brawny, good-natured
+    infant, named Bill Smith, and it was soon understood that whoever hit me
+    struck Bill by proxy.  Not that the crew were particularly brutal, but a
+    sound cuffing occasionally is held by most seamen to be beneficial to a
+    lad's health and morals.  The only really spiteful fellow among them was
+    a man named Jem Dadd.  He was a morose, sallow-looking man, of about
+    forty, with a strong taste for the supernatural, and a stronger taste
+    still for frightening his fellows with it.  I have seen Bill almost
+    afraid to go on deck of a night for his trick at the wheel, after a few
+    of his reminiscences.  Rats were a favourite topic with him, and he would
+    never allow one to be killed if he could help it, for he claimed for them
+    that they were the souls of drowned sailors, hence their love of ships
+    and their habit of leaving them when they became unseaworthy.  He was a
+    firm believer in the transmigration of souls, some idea of which he had,
+    no doubt, picked up in Eastern ports, and gave his shivering auditors to
+    understand that his arrangements for his own immediate future were
+    already perfected.
+</p>
+<p>
+    We were six or seven days out when a strange thing happened.  Dadd had
+    the second watch one night, and Bill was to relieve him.  They were not
+    very strict aboard the brig in fair weather, and when a man's time was
+    up he just made the wheel fast, and, running for'ard, shouted down the
+    fo'c's'le.  On this night I happened to awake suddenly, in time to see
+    Bill slip out of his bunk and stand by me, rubbing his red eyelids with
+    his knuckles.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Dadd's giving me a long time," he whispered, seeing that I was awake;
+    "it's a whole hour after his time."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He pattered up on deck, and I was just turning over, thankful that I was
+    too young to have a watch to keep, when he came softly down again, and,
+    taking me by the shoulders, shook me roughly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Jack," he whispered.  "Jack."
+</p>
+<p>
+    I raised myself on my elbows, and, in the light of the smoking lamp, saw
+    that he was shaking all over.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come on deck," he said, thickly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I put on my clothes, and followed him quietly to the sweet, cool air
+    above.  It was a beautiful clear night, but, from his manner, I looked
+    nervously around for some cause of alarm.  I saw nothing.  The deck was
+    deserted, except for the solitary figure at the wheel.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Look at him," whispered Bill, bending a contorted face to mine.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I walked aft a few steps, and Bill followed slowly.  Then I saw that Jem
+    Dadd was leaning forward clumsily on the wheel, with his hands clenched
+    on the spokes.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's asleep," said I, stopping short.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill breathed hard.  "He's in a queer sleep," said he; "kind o' trance
+    more like.  Go closer."
+</p>
+<p>
+    I took fast hold of Bill's sleeve, and we both went.  The light of the
+    stars was sufficient to show that Dadd's face was very white, and that
+    his dim, black eyes were wide open, and staring in a very strange and
+    dreadful manner straight before him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Dadd," said I, softly, "Dadd!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was no reply, and, with a view of arousing him, I tapped one sinewy
+    hand as it gripped the wheel, and even tried to loosen it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He remained immovable, and, suddenly with a great cry, my courage
+    deserted me, and Bill and I fairly bolted down into the cabin and woke
+    the skipper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then we saw how it was with Jem, and two strong seamen forcibly loosened
+    the grip of those rigid fingers, and, laying him on the deck, covered him
+    with a piece of canvas.  The rest of the night two men stayed at the
+    wheel, and, gazing fearfully at the outline of the canvas, longed for
+    dawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It came at last, and, breakfast over, the body was sewn up in canvas, and
+    the skipper held a short service compiled from a Bible which belonged to
+    the mate, and what he remembered of the Burial Service proper.  Then the
+    corpse went overboard with a splash, and the men, after standing
+    awkwardly together for a few minutes, slowly dispersed to their duties.
+</p>
+<p>
+    For the rest of that day we were all very quiet and restrained; pity for
+    the dead man being mingled with a dread of taking the wheel when night
+    came.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "The wheel's haunted," said the cook, solemnly; "mark my words, there's
+    more of you will be took the same way Dadd was."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook, like myself, had no watch to keep.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The men bore up pretty well until night came on again, and then they
+    unanimously resolved to have a double watch.  The cook, sorely against
+    his will, was impressed into the service, and I, glad to oblige my
+    patron, agreed to stay up with Bill.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Some of the pleasure had vanished by the time night came, and I seemed
+    only just to have closed my eyes when Bill came, and, with a rough shake
+    or two, informed me that the time had come.  Any hope that I might have
+    had of escaping the ordeal was at once dispelled by his expectant
+    demeanour, and the helpful way in which he assisted me with my clothes,
+    and, yawning terribly, I followed him on deck.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The night was not so clear as the preceding one, and the air was chilly,
+    with a little moisture in it.  I buttoned up my jacket, and thrust my
+    hands in my pockets.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Everything quiet?" asked Bill as he stepped up and took the wheel.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ay, ay," said Roberts, "quiet as the grave," and, followed by his
+    willing mate, he went below.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I sat on the deck by Bill's side as, with a light touch on the wheel,
+    he kept the brig to her course.  It was weary work sitting there, doing
+    nothing, and thinking of the warm berth below, and I believe that I
+    should have fallen asleep, but that my watchful companion stirred me with
+    his foot whenever he saw me nodding.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I suppose I must have sat there, shivering and yawning, for about an
+    hour, when, tired of inactivity, I got up and went and leaned over the
+    side of the vessel.  The sound of the water gurgling and lapping by was
+    so soothing that I began to doze.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I was recalled to my senses by a smothered cry from Bill, and, running to
+    him, I found him staring to port in an intense and uncomfortable fashion.
+    At my approach, he took one hand from the wheel, and gripped my arm so
+    tightly that I was like to have screamed with the pain of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Jack," said he, in a shaky voice, "while you was away something popped
+    its head up, and looked over the ship's side."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You've been dreaming," said I, in a voice which was a very fair
+    imitation of Bill's own.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Dreaming," repeated Bill, "dreaming!  Ah, look there!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He pointed with outstretched finger, and my heart seemed to stop beating
+    as I saw a man's head appear above the side.  For a brief space it peered
+    at us in silence, and then a dark figure sprang like a cat on to the
+    deck, and stood crouching a short distance away.
+</p>
+<p>
+    A mist came before my eyes, and my tongue failed me, but Bill let off a
+    roar, such as I have never heard before or since.  It was answered from
+    below, both aft and for'ard, and the men came running up on deck just as
+    they left their beds.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What's up?" shouted the skipper, glancing aloft.
+</p>
+<p>
+    For answer, Bill pointed to the intruder, and the men, who had just
+    caught sight of him, came up and formed a compact knot by the wheel.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come over the side, it did," panted Bill, "come over like a ghost out of
+    the sea."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The skipper took one of the small lamps from the binnacle, and, holding
+    it aloft, walked boldly up to the cause of alarm.  In the little patch of
+    light we saw a ghastly black-bearded man, dripping with water, regarding
+    us with unwinking eyes, which glowed red in the light of the lamp.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Where did you come from?" asked the skipper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The figure shook its head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Where did you come from?" he repeated, walking up, and laying his hand
+    on the other's shoulder.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then the intruder spoke, but in a strange fashion and in strange words.
+    We leaned forward to listen, but, even when he repeated them, we could
+    make nothing of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's a furriner," said Roberts.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Blest if I've ever 'eard the lingo afore," said Bill.  "Does anybody
+    rekernize it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Nobody did, and the skipper, after another attempt, gave it up, and,
+    falling back upon the universal language of signs, pointed first to the
+    man and then to the sea.  The other understood him, and, in a heavy,
+    slovenly fashion, portrayed a man drifting in an open boat, and clutching
+    and clambering up the side of a passing ship.  As his meaning dawned upon
+    us, we rushed to the stern, and, leaning over, peered into the gloom, but
+    the night was dark, and we saw nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well," said the skipper, turning to Bill, with a mighty yawn, "take him
+    below, and give him some grub, and the next time a gentleman calls on
+    you, don't make such a confounded row about it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He went below, followed by the mate, and after some slight hesitation,
+    Roberts stepped up to the intruder, and signed to him to follow.  He came
+    stolidly enough, leaving a trail of water on the deck, and, after
+    changing into the dry things we gave him, fell to, but without much
+    appearance of hunger, upon some salt beef and biscuits, regarding us
+    between bites with black, lack-lustre eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He seems as though he's a-walking in his sleep," said the cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He ain't very hungry," said one of the men; "he seems to mumble his
+    food."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Hungry!" repeated Bill, who had just left the wheel.  "Course he ain't
+    famished.  He had his tea last night."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The men stared at him in bewilderment.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you see?" said Bill, still in a hoarse whisper; "ain't you ever
+    seen them eyes afore?  Don't you know what he used to say about dying?
+    It's Jem Dadd come back to us.  Jem Dadd got another man's body, as he
+    always said he would."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Rot!" said Roberts, trying to speak bravely, but he got up, and, with
+    the others, huddled together at the end of the fo'c's'le, and stared in a
+    bewildered fashion at the sodden face and short, squat figure of our
+    visitor.  For his part, having finished his meal, he pushed his plate
+    from him, and, leaning back on the locker, looked at the empty bunks.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Roberts caught his eye, and, with a nod and a wave of his hand, indicated
+    the bunks.  The fellow rose from the locker, and, amid a breathless
+    silence, climbed into one of them&mdash;Jem Dadd's!
+</p>
+<p>
+    He slept in the dead sailor's bed that night, the only man in the
+    fo'c's'le who did sleep properly, and turned out heavily and lumpishly in
+    the morning for breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The skipper had him on deck after the meal, but could make nothing of
+    him.  To all his questions he replied in the strange tongue of the night
+    before, and, though our fellows had been to many ports, and knew a word
+    or two of several languages, none of them recognized it.  The skipper
+    gave it up at last, and, left to himself, he stared about him for some
+    time, regardless of our interest in his movements, and then, leaning
+    heavily against the side of the ship, stayed there so long that we
+    thought he must have fallen asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's half-dead now!" whispered Roberts.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Hush!" said Bill, "mebbe he's been in the water a week or two, and can't
+    quite make it out.  See how he's looking at it now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stayed on deck all day in the sun, but, as night came on, returned to
+    the warmth of the fo'c's'le.  The food we gave him remained untouched,
+    and he took little or no notice of us, though I fancied that he saw the
+    fear we had of him.  He slept again in the dead man's bunk, and when
+    morning came still lay there.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Until dinner-time, nobody interfered with him, and then Roberts, pushed
+    forward by the others, approached him with some food.  He motioned, it
+    away with a dirty, bloated hand, and, making signs for water, drank it
+    eagerly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    For two days he stayed there quietly, the black eyes always open, the
+    stubby fingers always on the move.  On the third morning Bill, who had
+    conquered his fear sufficiently to give him water occasionally, called
+    softly to us.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come and look at him," said he.  "What's the matter with him?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's dying!" said the cook, with a shudder.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He can't be going to die yet!" said Bill, blankly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    As he spoke the man's eyes seemed to get softer and more life-like, and
+    he looked at us piteously and helplessly.  From face to face he gazed in
+    mute inquiry, and then, striking his chest feebly with his fist, uttered
+    two words.
+</p>
+<p>
+    We looked at each other blankly, and he repeated them eagerly, and again
+    touched his chest.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's his name," said the cook, and we all repeated them.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He smiled in an exhausted fashion, and then, rallying his energies, held
+    up a forefinger; as we stared at this new riddle, he lowered it, and held
+    up all four fingers, doubled.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Come away," quavered the cook; "he's putting a spell on us."
+</p>
+<p>
+    We drew back at that, and back farther still, as he repeated the motions.
+    Then Bill's face cleared suddenly, and he stepped towards him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He means his wife and younkers!" he shouted eagerly.  "This ain't no Jem
+    Dadd!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    It was good then to see how our fellows drew round the dying sailor, and
+    strove to cheer him.  Bill, to show he understood the finger business,
+    nodded cheerily, and held his hand at four different heights from the
+    floor.  The last was very low, so low that the man set his lips together,
+    and strove to turn his heavy head from us.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Poor devil!" said Bill, "he wants us to tell his wife and children
+    what's become of him.  He must ha' been dying when he come aboard.  What
+    was his name, again?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    But the name was not easy to English lips, and we had already forgotten
+    it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Ask him again," said the cook, "and write it down.  Who's got a pen?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He went to look for one as Bill turned to the sailor to get him to repeat
+    it.  Then he turned round again, and eyed us blankly, for, by this time,
+    the owner had himself forgotten it.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_7"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE FOUR PIGEONS
+</h2>
+<a name="image-11"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/011.jpg" height="458" width="348"
+alt="'the Four Pigeons.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    The old man took up his mug and shifted along the bench until he was in
+    the shade of the elms that stood before the <i>Cauliflower</i>.  The action also
+    had the advantage of bringing him opposite the two strangers who were
+    refreshing themselves after the toils of a long walk in the sun.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "My hearing ain't wot it used to be," he said, tremulously.  "When you
+    asked me to have a mug o' ale I 'ardly heard you; and if you was to ask
+    me to 'ave another, I mightn't hear you at all."
+</p>
+<p>
+    One of the men nodded.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not over there," piped the old man.  "That's why I come over here," he
+    added, after a pause.  "It 'ud be rude like to take no notice; if you was
+    to ask me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He looked round as the landlord approached, and pushed his mug gently in
+    his direction.  The landlord, obeying a nod from the second stranger,
+    filled it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It puts life into me," said the old man, raising it to his lips and
+    bowing.  "It makes me talk."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Time we were moving, Jack," said the first traveller.  The second,
+    assenting to this as an abstract proposition, expressed, however, a
+    determination to finish his pipe first.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I heard you saying something about shooting, continued the old man, and
+    that reminds me of some shooting we 'ad here once in Claybury.  We've
+    always 'ad a lot o' game in these parts, and if it wasn't for a low,
+    poaching fellow named Bob Pretty&mdash;Claybury's disgrace I call 'im&mdash;we'd
+    'ave a lot more.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It happened in this way.  Squire Rockett was going abroad to foreign
+    parts for a year, and he let the Hall to a gentleman from London named
+    Sutton.  A real gentleman 'e was, open-'anded and free, and just about
+    October he 'ad a lot of 'is friends come down from London to 'elp 'im
+    kill the pheasants.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The first day they frightened more than they killed, but they enjoyed
+    theirselves all right until one gentleman, who 'adn't shot a single thing
+    all day, shot pore Bill Chambers wot was beating with about a dozen more.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill got most of it in the shoulder and a little in the cheek, but the
+    row he see fit to make you'd ha' thought he'd been killed.  He laid on
+    the ground groaning with 'is eyes shut, and everybody thought 'e was
+    dying till Henery Walker stooped down and asked 'im whether 'e was hurt.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It took four men to carry Bill 'ome, and he was that particular you
+    wouldn't believe.  They 'ad to talk in whispers, and when Peter Gubbins
+    forgot 'imself and began to whistle he asked him where his 'art was.
+    When they walked fast he said they jolted 'im, and when they walked slow
+    'e asked 'em whether they'd gone to sleep or wot.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill was in bed for nearly a week, but the gentleman was very nice about
+    it and said that it was his fault.  He was a very pleasant-spoken
+    gentleman, and, arter sending Dr. Green to him and saying he'd pay the
+    bill, 'e gave Bill Chambers ten pounds to make up for 'is sufferings.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill 'ad intended to lay up for another week, and the doctor, wot 'ad
+    been calling twice a day, said he wouldn't be responsible for 'is life if
+    he didn't; but the ten pounds was too much for 'im, and one evening, just
+    a week arter the accident, he turned up at this <i>Cauliflower</i> public-'ouse
+    and began to spend 'is money.
+</p>
+<p>
+    His face was bandaged up, and when 'e come in he walked feeble-like and
+    spoke in a faint sort o' voice.  Smith, the landlord, got 'im a
+    easy-chair and a couple of pillers out o' the parlour, and Bill sat there
+    like a king, telling us all his sufferings and wot it felt like to be
+    shot.
+</p>
+<p>
+    I always have said wot a good thing beer is, and it done Bill more good
+    than doctor's medicine.  When he came in he could 'ardly crawl, and at
+    nine o'clock 'e was out of the easy-chair and dancing on the table as
+    well as possible.  He smashed three mugs and upset about two pints o'
+    beer, but he just put his 'and in his pocket and paid for 'em without a
+    word.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's plenty more where that came from," he ses, pulling out a handful
+    o' money.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Peter Gubbins looked at it, 'ardly able to speak.  "It's worth while
+    being shot to 'ave all that money," he ses, at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you worry yourself, Peter," ses Bob Pretty; "there's plenty more
+    of you as'll be shot afore them gentlemen at the Hall 'as finished.
+    Bill's the fust, but 'e won't be the last&mdash;not by a long chalk."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They're more careful now," ses Dicky Weed, the tailor.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "All right; 'ave it your own way," ses Bob, nasty-like.  "I don't know
+    much about shooting, being on'y a pore labourin' man.  All I know is I
+    shouldn't like to go beating for them.  I'm too fond o' my wife and
+    family."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There won't be no more shot," ses Sam Jones.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We're too careful," ses Peter Gubbins.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Bob Pretty don't know everything," ses Dicky Weed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll bet you what you like there'll be some more of you shot," ses Bob
+    Pretty, in a temper.  "Now, then."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Ow much'll you bet, Bob," ses Sam Jones, with a wink at the others.
+    "I can see you winking, Sam Jones," ses Bob Pretty, "but I'll do more
+    than bet.  The last bet I won is still owing to me.  Now, look 'ere; I'll
+    pay you sixpence a week all the time you're beating if you promise to
+    give me arf of wot you get if you're shot.  I can't say fairer than
+    that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Will you give me sixpence a week, too?" ses Henery Walker, jumping up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I will," ses Bob; "and anybody else that likes.  And wot's more, I'll
+    pay in advance.  Fust sixpences now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Claybury men 'ave never been backward when there's been money to be made
+    easy, and they all wanted to join Bob Pretty's club, as he called it.
+    But fust of all 'e asked for a pen and ink, and then he got Smith, the
+    land-lord, being a scholard, to write out a paper for them to sign.
+    Henery Walker was the fust to write 'is name, and then Sam Jones, Peter
+    Gubbins, Ralph Thomson, Jem Hall, and Walter Bell wrote theirs.  Bob
+    stopped 'em then, and said six 'ud be enough to go on with; and then 'e
+    paid up the sixpences and wished 'em luck.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Wot they liked a'most as well as the sixpences was the idea o' getting
+    the better o' Bob Pretty.  As I said afore, he was a poacher, and that
+    artful that up to that time nobody 'ad ever got the better of 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They made so much fun of 'im the next night that Bob turned sulky and
+    went off 'ome, and for two or three nights he 'ardly showed his face; and
+    the next shoot they 'ad he went off to Wickham and nobody saw 'im all
+    day.
+</p>
+<p>
+    That very day Henery Walker was shot.  Several gentlemen fired at a
+    rabbit that was started, and the next thing they knew Henery Walker was
+    lying on the ground calling out that 'is leg 'ad been shot off.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He made more fuss than Bill Chambers a'most, 'specially when they dropped
+    'im off a hurdle carrying him 'ome, and the things he said to Dr. Green
+    for rubbing his 'ands as he came into the bedroom was disgraceful.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The fust Bob Pretty 'eard of it was up at the <i>Cauliflower</i> at eight
+    o'clock that evening, and he set down 'is beer and set off to see Henery
+    as fast as 'is legs could carry 'im.  Henery was asleep when 'e got
+    there, and, do all he could, Bob Pretty couldn't wake 'im till he sat
+    down gentle on 'is bad leg.
+</p>
+<a name="image-12"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/012.jpg" height="896" width="536"
+alt="'the Fust Bob Pretty 'eard of It Was up at The
+<i>cauliflower</i> at Eight O'clock That Evening.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    "It's on'y me, old pal," he ses, smiling at 'im as Henery woke up and
+    shouted at 'im to get up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker was going to say something bad, but 'e thought better of
+    it, and he lay there arf busting with rage, and watching Bob out of the
+    corner of one eye.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I quite forgot you was on my club till Smith reminded me of it," ses
+    Bob.  "Don't you take a farthing less than ten pounds, Henery."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker shut his eyes again.  "I forgot to tell you I made up my
+    mind this morning not to belong to your club any more, Bob," he ses.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why didn't you come and tell me, Henery, instead of leaving it till it
+    was too late?" ses Bob, shaking his 'ead at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I shall want all that money," ses Henery in a weak voice.  "I might 'ave
+    to have a wooden leg, Bob."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't meet troubles arf way, Henery," ses Bob, in a kind voice.  "I've
+    no doubt Mr. Sutton'll throw in a wooden leg if you want it, and look
+    here, if he does, I won't trouble you for my arf of it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He said good-night to Henery and went off, and when Mrs. Walker went up
+    to see 'ow Henery was getting on he was carrying on that alarming that
+    she couldn't do nothing with 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was laid up for over a week, though it's my opinion he wasn't much
+    hurt, and the trouble was that nobody knew which gentleman 'ad shot 'im.
+    Mr. Sutton talked it over with them, and at last, arter a good deal o'
+    trouble, and Henery pulling up 'is trousers and showing them 'is leg till
+    they was fair sick of the sight of it, they paid 'im ten pounds, the same
+    as they 'ad Bill.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It took Bob Pretty two days to get his arf, but he kept very quiet about
+    it, not wishing to make a fuss in the village for fear Mr. Sutton should
+    get to hear of the club.  At last he told Henery Walker that 'e was going
+    to Wickham to see 'is lawyer about it, and arter Smith the landlord 'ad
+    read the paper to Henery and explained 'ow he'd very likely 'ave to pay
+    more than the whole ten pounds then, 'e gave Bob his arf and said he
+    never wanted to see 'im again as long as he lived.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob stood treat up at the <i>Cauliflower</i> that night, and said 'ow bad he'd
+    been treated.  The tears stood in 'is eyes a'most, and at last 'e said
+    that if 'e thought there was going to be any more fuss of that kind he'd
+    wind up the club.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's the best thing you can do," ses Sam Jones; "I'm not going to belong
+    to it any longer, so I give you notice.  If so be as I get shot I want
+    the money for myself."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Me, too," ses Peter Gubbins; "it 'ud fair break my 'art to give Bob
+    Pretty five pounds.  I'd sooner give it to my wife."
+</p>
+<p>
+    All the other chaps said the same thing, but Bob pointed out to them that
+    they 'ad taken their sixpences on'y the night afore, and they must stay
+    in for the week.  He said that was the law.  Some of 'em talked about
+    giving 'im 'is sixpences back, but Bob said if they did they must pay up
+    all the sixpences they had 'ad for three weeks.  The end of it was they
+    said they'd stay in for that week and not a moment longer.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The next day Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins altered their minds.  Sam found
+    a couple o' shillings that his wife 'ad hidden in her Sunday bonnet, and
+    Peter Gubbins opened 'is boy's money-box to see 'ow much there was in it.
+    They came up to the <i>Cauliflower</i> to pay Bob their eighteen-pences, but he
+    wasn't there, and when they went to his 'ouse Mrs. Pretty said as 'ow
+    he'd gone off to Wickham and wouldn't be back till Saturday.  So they 'ad
+    to spend the money on beer instead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    That was on Tuesday, and things went on all right till Friday, when Mr.
+    Sutton 'ad another shoot.  The birds was getting scarce and the gentlemen
+    that anxious to shoot them there was no 'olding them.  Once or twice the
+    keepers spoke to 'em about carefulness, and said wot large families
+    they'd got, but it wasn't much good.  They went on blazing away, and just
+    at the corner of the wood Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins was both hit; Sam
+    in the leg and Peter in the arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The noise that was made was awful&mdash;everybody shouting that they 'adn't
+    done it, and all speaking at once, and Mr. Sutton was dancing about
+    a'most beside 'imself with rage.  Pore Sam and Peter was 'elped along by
+    the others; Sam being carried and Peter led, and both of 'em with the
+    idea of getting all they could out of it, making such 'orrible noises
+    that Mr. Sutton couldn't hear 'imself calling his friends names.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There seems to be wounded men calling out all over the place," he ses,
+    in a temper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I think there is another one over there, sir," ses one o' the keepers,
+    pointing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Sam Jones and Peter Gubbins both left off to listen, and then they all
+    heard it distinctly.  A dreadful noise it was, and when Mr. Sutton and
+    one or two more follered it up they found poor Walter Bell lying on 'is
+    face in a bramble.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot's the matter?" ses Mr. Sutton, shouting at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've been shot from behind," ses Walter.  "I'd got something in my boot,
+    and I was just stooping down to fasten it up agin when I got it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But there oughtn't to be anybody 'ere," ses Mr. Sutton to one of the
+    keepers.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They get all over the place, sir," ses the 'keeper, scratching his 'ead.
+    "I fancied I 'eard a gun go off here a minute or two arter the others was
+    shot."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I believe he's done it 'imself," says Mr. Sutton, stamping his foot.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't see 'ow he could, sir," ses the keeper, touching his cap and
+    looking at Walter as was still lying with 'is face on 'is arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They carried Walter 'ome that way on a hurdle, and Dr. Green spent all
+    the rest o' that day picking shots out o' them three men and telling 'em
+    to keep still.  He 'ad to do Sam Jones by candle-light, with Mrs. Jones
+    'olding the candle with one hand and crying with the other.  Twice the
+    doctor told her to keep it steady, and poor Sam 'ad only just passed the
+    remark, "How 'ot it was for October," when they discovered that the bed
+    was on fire.  The doctor said that Sam was no trouble.  He got off of the
+    bed by 'imself, and, when it was all over and the fire put out, the
+    doctor found him sitting on the stairs with the leg of a broken chair in
+    'is hand calling for 'is wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Of course, there was a terrible to-do about it in Claybury, and up at the
+    Hall, too.  All of the gentlemen said as 'ow they hadn't done it, and Mr.
+    Sutton was arf crazy with rage.  He said that they 'ad made 'im the
+    laughing-stock of the neighbourhood, and that they oughtn't to shoot with
+    anything but pop-guns.  They got to such high words over it that two of
+    the gentlemen went off 'ome that very night.
+</p>
+<p>
+    There was a lot of talk up at the <i>Cauliflower,</i> too, and more than one
+    pointed out 'ow lucky Bob Pretty was in getting four men out of the six
+    in his club.  As I said afore, Bob was away at the time, but he came back
+    the next night and we 'ad the biggest row here you could wish for to see.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker began it.  "I s'pose you've 'eard the dreadful news, Bob
+    Pretty?" he ses, looking at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I 'ave," ses Bob; "and my 'art bled for 'em.  I told you wot those
+    gentlemen was like, didn't I?  But none of you would believe me.  Now you
+    can see as I was right."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's very strange," ses Henery Walker, looking round; "it's very strange
+    that all of us wot's been shot belonged to Bob Pretty's precious club."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's my luck, Henery," ses Bob, "always was lucky from a child."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And I s'pose you think you're going to 'ave arf of the money they get?"
+    ses Henery Walker.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't talk about money while them pore chaps is suffering," ses Bob.
+    "I'm surprised at you, Henery."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You won't 'ave a farthing of it," ses Henery Walker; "and wot's more,
+    Bob Pretty, I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you believe it, Henery," ses Bob, smiling at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm going to 'ave my five pounds back," ses Henery, "and you know why.
+    I know wot your club was for now, and we was all a pack o' silly fools
+    not to see it afore."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Speak for yourself, Henery," ses John Biggs, who thought Henery was
+    looking at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've been putting two and two together," ses Henery, looking round, "and
+    it's as plain as the nose on your face.  Bob Pretty hid up in the wood
+    and shot us all himself!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    For a moment you might 'ave heard a pin drop, and then there was such a
+    noise nobody could hear theirselves speak.  Everybody was shouting his
+    'ardest, and the on'y quiet one there was Bob Pretty 'imself.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Poor Henery; he's gorn mad," he ses, shaking his 'ead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're a murderer," ses Ralph Thomson, shaking 'is fist at him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Henery Walker's gorn mad," ses Bob agin.  "Why, I ain't been near the
+    place.  There's a dozen men'll swear that I was at Wickham each time
+    these misfortunate accidents 'appened."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Men like you, they'd swear anything for a pot o' beer," ses Henery.
+    "But I'm not going to waste time talking to you, Bob Pretty.  I'm going
+    straight off to tell Mr. Sutton."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I shouldn't do that if I was you, Henery," ses Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I dessay," ses Henery Walker; "but then you see I am."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought you'd gorn mad, Henery," ses Bob, taking a drink o' beer that
+    somebody 'ad left on the table by mistake, "and now I'm sure of it.  Why,
+    if you tell Mr. Sutton that it wasn't his friends that shot them pore
+    fellers he won't pay them anything.  'Tain't likely 'e would, is it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker, wot 'ad been standing up looking fierce at 'im, sat down
+    agin, struck all of a heap.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And he might want your ten pounds back, Henery," said Bob in a soft
+    voice.  "And seeing as 'ow you was kind enough to give five to me, and
+    spent most of the other, it 'ud come 'ard on you, wouldn't it?  Always
+    think afore you speak, Henery.  I always do."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker got up and tried to speak, but 'e couldn't, and he didn't
+    get 'is breath back till Bob said it was plain to see that he 'adn't got
+    a word to say for 'imself.  Then he shook 'is fist at Bob and called 'im
+    a low, thieving, poaching murderer.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're not yourself, Henery," ses Bob.  "When you come round you'll be
+    sorry for trying to take away the character of a pore labourin' man with
+    a ailing wife and a large family.  But if you take my advice you won't
+    say anything more about your wicked ideas; if you do, these pore fellers
+    won't get a farthing.  And you'd better keep quiet about the club mates
+    for their sakes.  Other people might get the same crazy ideas in their
+    silly 'eads as Henery.  Keepers especially."
+</p>
+<p>
+    That was on'y common sense; but, as John Biggs said, it did seem 'ard to
+    think as 'ow Bob Pretty should be allowed to get off scot-free, and with
+    Henery Walker's five pounds too.  "There's one thing," he ses to Bob;
+    "you won't 'ave any of these other pore chaps money; and, if they're men,
+    they ought to make it up to Henery Walker for the money he 'as saved 'em
+    by finding you out."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "They've got to pay me fust," ses Bob.  "I'm a pore man, but I'll stick
+    up for my rights.  As for me shooting 'em, they'd ha' been 'urt a good
+    deal more if I'd done it&mdash;especially Mr. Henery Walker.  Why, they're
+    hardly 'urt at all."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't answer 'im, Henery," ses John Biggs.  "You save your breath to go
+    and tell Sam Jones and the others about it.  It'll cheer 'em up."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And tell 'em about my arf, in case they get too cheerful and go
+    overdoing it," ses Bob Pretty, stopping at the door.  "Good-night all."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Nobody answered 'im; and arter waiting a little bit Henery Walker set off
+    to see Sam Jones and the others.  John Biggs was quite right about its
+    making 'em cheerful, but they see as plain as Bob 'imself that it 'ad got
+    to be kept quiet.  "Till we've spent the money, at any rate," ses Walter
+    Bell; "then p'r'aps Mr. Sutton might get Bob locked up for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Sutton went down to see 'em all a day or two afterwards.  The
+    shooting-party was broken up and gone 'ome, but they left some money
+    behind 'em.  Ten pounds each they was to 'ave, same as the others, but
+    Mr. Sutton said that he 'ad heard 'ow the other money was wasted at the
+    <i>Cauliflower,</i> and 'e was going to give it out to 'em ten shillings a
+    week until the money was gorn.  He 'ad to say it over and over agin afore
+    they understood 'im, and Walter Bell 'ad to stuff the bedclo'es in 'is
+    mouth to keep civil.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Peter Gubbins, with 'is arm tied up in a sling, was the fust one to turn
+    up at the <i>Cauliflower,</i> and he was that down-'arted about it we couldn't
+    do nothing with 'im.  He 'ad expected to be able to pull out ten golden
+    sovereigns, and the disapp'intment was too much for 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I wonder 'ow they heard about it," ses Dicky Weed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I can tell you," ses Bob Pretty, wot 'ad been sitting up in a corner by
+    himself, nodding and smiling at Peter, wot wouldn't look at 'im.  "A
+    friend o' mine at Wickham wrote to him about it.  He was so disgusted at
+    the way Bill Chambers and Henery Walker come up 'ere wasting their
+    'ard-earned money, that he sent 'im a letter, signed 'A Friend of the
+    Working Man,' telling 'im about it and advising 'im what to do."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A friend o' yours?" ses John Biggs, staring at 'im.  "What for?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't know," ses Bob; "he's a wunnerful good scholard, and he likes
+    writin' letters.  He's going to write another to-morrer, unless I go over
+    and stop 'im."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Another?" ses Peter, who 'ad been tellin' everybody that 'e wouldn't
+    speak to 'im agin as long as he lived.  "Wot about?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "About the idea that I shot you all," ses Bob.  "I want my character
+    cleared.  O' course, they can't prove anything against me&mdash;I've got my
+    witnesses.  But, taking one thing with another, I see now that it does
+    look suspicious, and I don't suppose any of you'll get any more of your
+    money.  Mr. Sutton is so sick o' being laughed at, he'll jump at
+    anything."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You dursn't do it, Bob," ses Peter, all of a tremble.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It ain't me, Peter, old pal," ses Bob, "it's my friend.  But I don't
+    mind stopping 'im for the sake of old times if I get my arf.  He'd listen
+    to me, I feel sure."
+</p>
+<p>
+    At fust Peter said he wouldn't get a farthing out of 'im if his friend
+    wrote letters till Dooms-day; but by-and-by he thought better of it, and
+    asked Bob to stay there while he went down to see Sam and Walter about
+    it.  When 'e came back he'd got the fust week's money for Bob Pretty; but
+    he said he left Walter Bell carrying on like a madman, and, as for Sam
+    Jones, he was that upset 'e didn't believe he'd last out the night.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_8"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE TEMPTATION OF SAMUEL BURGE
+</h2>
+<a name="image-13"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/013.jpg" height="406" width="389"
+alt="'the Temptation of Samuel Burge.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs, jeweller, sat in the small parlour behind his shop, gazing
+    hungrily at a supper-table which had been laid some time before.  It was
+    a quarter to ten by the small town clock on the mantelpiece, and the
+    jeweller rubbing his hands over the fire tried in vain to remember what
+    etiquette had to say about starting a meal before the arrival of an
+    expected guest.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He must be coming by the last train after all, sir," said the
+    housekeeper entering the room and glancing at the clock.  "I suppose
+    these London gentlemen keep such late hours they don't understand us
+    country folk wanting to get to bed in decent time.  You must be wanting
+    your supper, sir."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs sighed.  "I shall be glad of my supper," he said slowly, "but I
+    dare say our friend is hungrier still.  Travelling is hungry work."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Perhaps he is thinking over his words for the seventh day," said the
+    housekeeper solemnly.  "Forgetting hunger and thirst and all our poor
+    earthly feelings in the blessedness of his work."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Perhaps so," assented the other, whose own earthly feelings were
+    particularly strong just at that moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Brother Simpson used to forget all about meal-times when he stayed
+    here," said the housekeeper, clasping her hands.  "He used to sit by the
+    window with his eyes half-closed and shake his head at the smell from the
+    kitchen and call it flesh-pots of Egypt.  He said that if it wasn't for
+    keeping up his strength for the work, luscious bread and fair water was
+    all he wanted.  I expect Brother Burge will be a similar sort of man."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Brother Clark wrote and told me that he only lives for the work," said
+    the jeweller, with another glance at the clock.  "The chapel at
+    Clerkenwell is crowded to hear him.  It's a blessed favour and privilege
+    to have such a selected instrument staying in the house.  I'm curious to
+    see him; from what Brother Clark said I rather fancy that he was a little
+    bit wild in his younger days."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Hallelujah!" exclaimed the housekeeper with fervour.  "I mean to think
+    as he's seen the error of his ways," she added sharply, as her master
+    looked up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There he is," said the latter, as the bell rang.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The housekeeper went to the side-door, and drawing back the bolt admitted
+    the gentleman whose preaching had done so much for the small but select
+    sect known as the Seventh Day Primitive Apostles.  She came back into the
+    room followed by a tall stout man, whose upper lip and short stubby beard
+    streaked with grey seemed a poor match for the beady eyes which lurked
+    behind a pair of clumsy spectacles.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Brother Samuel Burge?" inquired the jeweller, rising.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The visitor nodded, and regarding him with a smile charged with fraternal
+    love, took his hand in a huge grip and shook it fervently.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I am glad to see you, Brother Higgs," he said, regarding him fondly.
+    "Oh, 'ow my eyes have yearned to be set upon you!  Oh, 'ow my ears 'ave
+    longed to hearken unto the words of your voice!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He breathed thickly, and taking a seat sat with his hands upon his knees,
+    looking at a fine piece of cold beef which the housekeeper had just
+    placed upon the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Is Brother Clark well?" inquired the jeweller, placing a chair for him
+    at the table and taking up his carving-knife.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Dear Brother Clark is in excellent 'ealth, I thank you," said the other,
+    taking the proffered chair.  "Oh! what a man he is; what a instrument for
+    good.  Always stretching out them blessed hands of 'is to make one of the
+    fallen a Seventh Day Primitive."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And success attends his efforts?" said the jeweller.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Success, Brother!" repeated Mr. Burge, eating rapidly and gesticulating
+    with his knife.  "Success ain't no name for it.  Why, since this day last
+    week he has saved three pick-pockets, two Salvationists, one bigamist and
+    a Roman Catholic."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Brother Higgs murmured his admiration.  "You are also a power for good,"
+    he said wistfully.  "Brother Clark tells me in his letter that your
+    exhortations have been abundantly blessed."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge shook his head.  "A lot of it falls by the wayside," he said
+    modestly, "but some of it is an eye-opener to them as don't entirely shut
+    their ears.  Only the day before yesterday I 'ad two jemmies and a dark
+    lantern sent me with a letter saying as 'ow the owner had no further use
+    for 'em."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The jeweller's eyes glistened with admiration not quite untinged with
+    envy.  "Have you expounded the Word for long?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Six months," replied the other.  "It come to me quite natural&mdash;I was on
+    the penitent bench on the Saturday, and the Wednesday afterwards I
+    preached as good a sermon as ever I've preached in my life.  Brother
+    Clark said it took 'is breath away."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And he's a judge too," said the admiring jeweller.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Now," continued Brother Burge, helping himself plentifully to pickled
+    walnuts.  "Now there ain't standing room in our Bethel when I'm
+    expounding.  People come to hear me from all parts&mdash;old and young&mdash;rich
+    and poor&mdash;and the Apostles that don't come early 'ave to stand outside
+    and catch the crumbs I throw 'em through the winders."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It is enough," sighed Brother Higgs, whose own audience was frequently
+    content to be on the wrong side of the window, "it is enough to make a
+    man vain."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I struggle against it, Brother," said Mr. Burge, passing his cup up for
+    some more tea.  "I fight against it hard, but once the Evil One was
+    almost too much for me; and in spite of myself, and knowing besides that
+    it was a plot of 'is, I nearly felt uplifted."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Brother Higgs, passing him some more beef, pressed for details.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He sent me two policemen," replied the other, scowling darkly at the
+    meanness of the trick.  "One I might 'ave stood, but two come to being
+    pretty near too much for me.  They sat under me while I gave 'em the Word
+    'ot and strong, and the feeling I had standing up there and telling
+    policemen what they ought to do I shall never forget."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But why should policemen make you proud?" asked his puzzled listener.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge looked puzzled in his turn.  "Why, hasn't Brother Clark told
+    you about me?" he inquired.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs shook his head.  "He sort of&mdash;suggested that&mdash;that you had been
+    a little bit wild before you came to us," he murmured apologetically.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A&mdash;little&mdash;bit&mdash;wild?" repeated Brother Burge, in horrified accents.
+    "ME? a little bit wild?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No doubt he exaggerated a little," said the jeweller hurriedly.  "Being
+    such a good man himself, no doubt things would seem wild to him that
+    wouldn't to us&mdash;to me, I mean."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A little bit wild," said his visitor again.  "Sam Burge, the Converted
+    Burglar, a little bit wild.  Well, well!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Converted what?" shouted the jeweller, half-rising from his chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Burglar," said the other shortly.  "Why, I should think I know more
+    about the inside o' gaols than anybody in England; I've pretty near
+    killed three policemen, besides breaking a gent's leg and throwing a
+    footman out of window, and then Brother Clark goes and says I've been a
+    little bit wild.  I wonder what he would 'ave?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But you&mdash;you've quite reformed now?" said the jeweller, resuming his
+    seat and making a great effort to hide his consternation.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I 'ope so," said Mr. Burge, with alarming humility; "but it's an
+    uncertain world, and far be it from me to boast.  That's why I've come
+    here."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs, only half-comprehending, sat back gasping.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I can stand this," pursued Brother Burge, gesticulating wildly in the
+    direction of the shop, "if I can stand being here with all these 'ere
+    pretty little things to be 'ad for the trouble of picking of 'em up, I
+    can stand anything.  Tempt me, I says to Brother Clark.  Put me in the
+    way o' temptation, I says.  Let me see whether the Evil One or me is the
+    strongest; let me 'ave a good old up and down with the Powers o'
+    Darkness, and see who wins."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs, gripping the edge of the table with both hands, gazed at this
+    new Michael in speechless consternation.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I think I see his face now," said Brother Burge, with tender enthusiasm.
+    "All in a glow it was, and he patted me on the shoulder and says, 'I'll
+    send you on a week's mission to Duncombe,' he says, and 'you shall stop
+    with Brother Higgs who 'as a shop full o' cunning wrought vanities in
+    silver and gold.'"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But suppose," said the jeweller, finding his voice by a great effort,
+    "suppose victory is not given unto you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It won't make any difference," replied his visitor.  "Brother Clark
+    promised that it shouldn't.  'If you fall, Brother,' he says, 'we'll help
+    you up again.  When you are tired of sin come back to us&mdash;there's always
+    a welcome.'"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But&mdash;" began the dismayed jeweller.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "We can only do our best," said Brother Burge, "the rest we must leave.
+    I 'ave girded my loins for the fray, and taken much spiritual sustenance
+    on the way down from this little hymn-book."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs paid no heed.  He sat marvelling over the fatuousness of
+    Brother Clark and trying to think of ways and means out of the dilemma
+    into which that gentleman's perverted enthusiasm had placed him.  He
+    wondered whether it would be possible to induce Brother Burge to sleep
+    elsewhere by offering to bear his hotel expenses, and at last, after some
+    hesitation, broached the subject.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What!" exclaimed the other, pushing his plate from him and regarding him
+    with great severity.  "Go and sleep at a hotel?  After Brother Clark has
+    been and took all this trouble?  Why, I wouldn't think of doing such a
+    thing."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Brother Clark has no right to expose you to such a trial," said Mr.
+    Higgs with great warmth.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I wonder what he'd say if he 'eard you," remarked Mr. Burge sternly.
+    "After his going and making all these arrangements, for you to try and go
+    and upset 'em.  To ask me to shun the fight like a coward; to ask me to
+    go and hide in the rear-ranks in a hotel with everything locked up, or a
+    Coffer Pallis with nothing to steal."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I should sleep far more comfortably if I knew that you were not
+    undergoing this tremendous strain," said the unhappy Mr. Higgs, "and
+    besides that, if you did give way, it would be a serious business for me
+    &mdash;that's what I want you to look at.  I am afraid that if&mdash;if unhappily
+    you did fall, I couldn't prevent you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm sure you couldn't," said the other cordially.  "That's the beauty of
+    it; that's when the Evil One's whispers get louder and louder.  Why, I
+    could choke you between my finger and thumb.  If unfortunately my fallen
+    nature should be too strong for me, don't interfere whatever you do.  I
+    mightn't be myself."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs rose and faced him gasping.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not even&mdash;call for&mdash;the police&mdash;I suppose," he jerked out.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That would be interfering," said Brother Burge coldly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The jeweller tried to think.  It was past eleven.  The housekeeper had
+    gone to spend the night with an ailing sister, and a furtive glance at
+    Brother Burge's small shifty eyes and fat unwholesome face was sufficient
+    to deter him from leaving him alone with his property, while he went to
+    ask the police to give an eye to his house for the night.  Besides, it
+    was more than probable that Mr. Burge would decline to allow such a
+    proceeding.  With a growing sense of his peril he resolved to try
+    flattery.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It was a great thing for the Brethren to secure a man like you," he
+    said.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I never thought they'd ha' done it," said Mr. Burge frankly.  "I've 'ad
+    all sorts trying to convert me; crying over me and praying over me.  I
+    remember the first dear good man that called me a lorst lamb.  He didn't
+    say anything else for a month."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So upset," hazarded the jeweller.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I broke his jor, pore feller," said Brother Burge, a sad but withal
+    indulgent smile lighting up his face at the vagaries of his former
+    career.  "What time do you go to bed, Brother?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Any time," said the other reluctantly.  "I suppose you are tired with
+    your journey?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge assented, and rising from his chair yawned loudly and stretched
+    himself.  In the small room with his huge arms raised he looked colossal.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I suppose," said the jeweller, still seeking to re-assure himself, "I
+    suppose dear Brother Clark felt pretty certain of you, else he wouldn't
+    have sent you here?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Brother Clark said 'What is a jeweller's shop compared with a 'uman
+    soul, a priceless 'uman soul?'" replied Mr. Burge.  "What is a few
+    gew-gaws to decorate them that perish, and make them vain, when you come
+    to consider the opportunity of such a trial, and the good it'll do and
+    the draw it'll be&mdash;if I do win&mdash;and testify to the congregation to that
+    effect?  Why, there's sermons for a lifetime in it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So there is," said the jeweller, trying to look cheerful.  "You've got a
+    good face, Brother Burge, and you'll do a lot of good by your preaching.
+    There is honesty written in every feature."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge turned and surveyed himself in the small pier-glass.  "Yes," he
+    said, somewhat discontentedly, "I don't look enough like a burglar to
+    suit some of 'em."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Some people are hard to please," said the other warmly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge started and eyed him thoughtfully, and then as Mr. Higgs after
+    some hesitation walked into the shop to turn the gas out, stood in the
+    doorway watching him.  A smothered sigh as he glanced round the shop bore
+    witness to the state of his feelings.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The jeweller hesitated again in the parlour, and then handing Brother
+    Burge his candle turned out the gas, and led the way slowly upstairs to
+    the room which had been prepared for the honoured visitor.  He shook
+    hands at the door and bade him an effusive good-night, his voice
+    trembling despite himself as he expressed a hope that Mr. Burge would
+    sleep well.  He added casually that he himself was a very light sleeper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    To-night sleep of any kind was impossible.  He had given up the front
+    room to his guest, and his own window looked out on an over-grown garden.
+    He sat trying to read, with his ears alert for the slightest sound.
+    Brother Burge seemed to be a long time undressing.  For half an hour
+    after he had retired he could hear him moving restlessly about his room.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Twelve o'clock struck from the tower of the parish church, and was
+    followed almost directly by the tall clock standing in the hall
+    down-stairs.  Scarcely had the sounds died away than a low moaning from
+    the next room caused the affrighted jeweller to start from his chair and
+    place his ear against the wall.  Two or three hollow groans came through
+    the plaster, followed by ejaculations which showed clearly that Brother
+    Burge was at that moment engaged in a terrified combat with the Powers
+    of Darkness to decide whether he should, or should not, rifle his host's
+    shop.  His hands clenched and his ear pressed close to the wall, the
+    jeweller listened to a monologue which increased in interest with every
+    word.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I tell you I won't," said the voice in the next room with a groan, "I
+    won't.  Get thee behind me&mdash;Get thee&mdash;No, and don't shove me over to the
+    door; if you can't get behind me without doing that, stay where you are.
+    Yes, I know it's a fortune as well as what you do; but it ain't mine."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The listener caught his breath painfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Diamond rings," continued Brother Burge in a suffocating voice.  "Stop
+    it, I tell you.  No, I won't just go and look at 'em."
+</p>
+<p>
+    A series of groans which the jeweller noticed to his horror got weaker
+    and weaker testified to the greatness of the temptation.  He heard
+    Brother Burge rise, and then a succession of panting snarls seemed to
+    indicate a fierce bodily encounter.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't&mdash;want to look at 'em," said Brother Burge in an exhausted voice.
+    "What's&mdash;the good of&mdash;looking at 'em?  It's like you, you know diamonds
+    are my weakness.  What does it matter if he is asleep?  What's my knife
+    got to do with you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Brother Higgs reeled back and a mist passed before his eyes.  He came to
+    himself at the sound of a door opening, and impelled with a vague idea of
+    defending his property, snatched up his candle and looked out on to the
+    landing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The light fell on Brother Burge, fully dressed and holding his boots in
+    his hand.  For a moment they gazed at each other in silence; then the
+    jeweller found his voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought you were ill, Brother," he faltered.
+</p>
+<p>
+    An ugly scowl lit up the other's features.  "Don't you tell me any of
+    your lies," he said fiercely.  "You're watching me; that's what you're
+    doing.  Spying on me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought that you were being tempted," confessed the trembling Mr.
+    Higgs.
+</p>
+<p>
+    An expression of satisfaction which he strove to suppress appeared on Mr.
+    Burge's face.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So I was," he said sternly.  "So I was; but that's my business.  I don't
+    want your assistance; I can fight my own battles.  You go to bed&mdash;I'm
+    going to tell the congregation I won the fight single-'anded."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "So you have, Brother," said the other eagerly; "but it's doing me good
+    to see it.  It's a lesson to me; a lesson to all of us the way you
+    wrestled."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought you was asleep," growled Brother Burge, turning back to his
+    room and speaking over his shoulder.  "You get back to bed; the fight
+    ain't half over yet.  Get back to bed and keep quiet."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The door closed behind him, and Mr. Higgs, still trembling, regained his
+    room and looked in agony at the clock.  It was only half-past twelve and
+    the sun did not rise until six.  He sat and shivered until a second
+    instalment of groans in the next room brought him in desperation to his
+    feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Brother Burge was in the toils again, and the jeweller despite his fears
+    could not help realizing what a sensation the story of his temptation
+    would create.  Brother Burge was now going round and round his room like
+    an animal in a cage, and sounds as of a soul wrought almost beyond
+    endurance smote upon the listener's quivering ear.  Then there was a long
+    silence more alarming even than the noise of the conflict.  Had Brother
+    Burge won, and was he now sleeping the sleep of the righteous, or&mdash;&mdash;
+    Mr. Higgs shivered and put his other ear to the wall.  Then he heard his
+    guest move stealthily across the floor; the boards creaked and the handle
+    of the door turned.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs started, and with a sudden flash of courage born of anger and
+    desperation seized a small brass poker from the fire-place, and taking
+    the candle in his other hand went out on to the landing again.  Brother
+    Burge was closing his door softly, and his face when he turned it upon
+    the jeweller was terrible in its wrath.  His small eyes snapped with
+    fury, and his huge hands opened and shut convulsively.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What, agin!" he said in a low growl.  "After all I told you!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs backed slowly as he advanced.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No noise," said Mr. Burge in a dreadful whisper.  "One scream and I'll&mdash;
+    What were you going to do with that poker?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He took a stealthy step forward.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I&mdash;I," began the jeweller.  His voice failed him.  "Burglars," he
+    mouthed, "downstairs."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What?" said the other, pausing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Higgs threw truth to the winds. "I heard them in the shop," he said,
+    recovering, "that's why I took up the poker.  Can't you hear them?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge listened for the fraction of a second.  "Nonsense," he said
+    huskily.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I heard them talking," said the other recklessly.  "Let's go down and
+    call the police."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Call 'em from the winder," said Brother Burge, backing with some haste,
+    "they might 'ave pistols or something, and they're ugly customers when
+    they're disturbed."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stood with strained face listening.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Here they come," whispered the jeweller with a sudden movement of alarm.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Brother Burge turned, and bolting into his room clapped the door to and
+    locked it.  The jeweller stood dumbfounded on the landing; then he heard
+    the window go up and the voice of Brother Burge, much strengthened by the
+    religious exercises of the past six months, bellowing lustily for the
+    police.
+</p>
+<p>
+    For a few seconds Mr. Higgs stood listening and wondering what
+    explanation he should give.  Still thinking, he ran downstairs, and,
+    throwing open the pantry window, unlocked the door leading into the shop
+    and scattered a few of his cherished possessions about the floor.  By the
+    time he had done this, people were already beating upon the street-door
+    and exchanging hurried remarks with Mr. Burge at the window above.  The
+    jeweller shot back the bolts, and half-a-dozen neighbours, headed by the
+    butcher opposite, clad in his nightgown and armed with a cleaver, burst
+    into the passage.  A constable came running up just as the pallid face of
+    Brother Burge peered over the balusters.  The constable went upstairs
+    three at a time, and twisting his hand in the ex-burglar's neck-cloth
+    bore him backwards.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've got one," he shouted.  "Come up and hold him while I look round."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The butcher was beside him in a moment; Brother Burge struggling wildly,
+    called loudly upon the name of Brother Higgs.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's all right, constable," said the latter, "that's a friend of
+    mine."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Friend o' yours, sir?" said the disappointed officer, still holding him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The jeweller nodded.  "Mr. Samuel Burge the Converted Burglar," he said
+    mechanically.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Conver&mdash;&mdash;" gasped the astonished constable.  "Converted burglar?
+    Here!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He is a preacher now," added Mr. Higgs.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Preacher?" retorted the constable.  "Why it's as plain as a pikestaff.
+    Confederates: his part was to go down and let 'em in."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Burge raised a piteous outcry.  "I hope you may be forgiven for them
+    words," he cried piously.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What time did you go up to bed?" pursued the constable.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "About half-past eleven," replied Mr. Higgs.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The other grunted with satisfaction.  "And he's fully dressed, with his
+    boots off," he remarked.  "Did you hear him go out of his room at all?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He did go out," said the jeweller truth-fully, "but&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I thought so," said the constable, turning to his prisoner with
+    affectionate solicitude.  "Now you come along o' me.  Come quietly,
+    because it'll be the best for you in the end."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You won't get your skull split open then," added the butcher, toying
+    with his cleaver.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The jeweller hesitated.  He had no desire to be left alone with Mr. Burge
+    again; and a sense of humour, which many years' association with the
+    Primitive Apostles had not quite eradicated, strove for hearing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Think of the sermon it'll make," he said encouragingly to the frantic
+    Mr. Burge, "think of the congregation!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Brother Burge replied in language which he had not used in public since
+    he had joined the Apostles.  The butcher and another man stood guard over
+    him while the constable searched the premises and made all secure again.
+    Then with a final appeal to Mr. Higgs who was keeping in the background,
+    he was pitched to the police-station by the energetic constable and five
+    zealous assistants.
+</p>
+<p>
+    A diffidence, natural in the circumstances, prevented him from narrating
+    the story of his temptation to the magistrates next morning, and Mr.
+    Higgs was equally reticent.  He was put back while the police
+    communicated with London, and in the meantime Brother Clark and a band
+    of Apostles flanked down to his support.
+</p>
+<p>
+    On his second appearance before the magistrates he was confronted with
+    his past; and his past to the great astonishment of the Brethren being
+    free from all blemish with the solitary exception of fourteen days for
+    stealing milk-cans, he was discharged with a caution.  The disillusioned
+    Primitive Apostles also gave him his freedom.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_9"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER
+</h2>
+<a name="image-14"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/014.jpg" height="523" width="358"
+alt="'the Madness of Mr. Lister.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    Old Jem Lister, of the <i>Susannah,</i> was possessed of two devils&mdash;the love
+    of strong drink and avarice&mdash;and the only thing the twain had in common
+    was to get a drink without paying for it.  When Mr. Lister paid for a
+    drink, the demon of avarice masquerading as conscience preached a
+    teetotal lecture, and when he showed signs of profiting by it, the demon
+    of drink would send him hanging round public-house doors cadging for
+    drinks in a way which his shipmates regarded as a slur upon the entire
+    ship's company.  Many a healthy thirst reared on salt beef and tickled
+    with strong tobacco had been spoiled by the sight of Mr. Lister standing
+    by the entrance, with a propitiatory smile, waiting to be invited in to
+    share it, and on one occasion they had even seen him (him, Jem Lister,
+    A.B.) holding a horse's head, with ulterior motives.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It was pointed out to Mr. Lister at last that his conduct was reflecting
+    discredit upon men who were fully able to look after themselves in that
+    direction, without having any additional burden thrust upon them.  Bill
+    Henshaw was the spokesman, and on the score of violence (miscalled
+    firmness) his remarks left little to be desired.  On the score of
+    profanity, Bill might recall with pride that in the opinion of his
+    fellows he had left nothing unsaid.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You ought to ha' been a member o' Parliament, Bill," said Harry Lea,
+    when he had finished.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It wants money," said Henshaw, shaking his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister laughed, a senile laugh, but not lacking in venom.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's what we've got to say," said Henshaw, turning upon him suddenly.
+    "If there's anything I hate in this world, it's a drinking miser.  You
+    know our opinion, and the best thing you can do is to turn over a new
+    leaf now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Take us all in to the Goat and Compasses," urged Lea; "bring out some o'
+    those sovrins you've been hoarding."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister gazed at him with frigid scorn, and finding that the
+    conversation still seemed to centre round his unworthy person, went up on
+    deck and sat glowering over the insults which had been heaped upon him.
+    His futile wrath when Bill dogged his footsteps ashore next day and
+    revealed his character to a bibulous individual whom he had almost
+    persuaded to be a Christian&mdash;from his point of view&mdash;bordered upon the
+    maudlin, and he wandered back to the ship, wild-eyed and dry of throat.
+</p>
+<p>
+    For the next two months it was safe to say that every drink he had he
+    paid for.  His eyes got brighter and his complexion clearer, nor was
+    he as pleased as one of the other sex might have been when the
+    self-satisfied Henshaw pointed out these improvements to his companions,
+    and claimed entire responsibility for them.  It is probable that Mr.
+    Lister, under these circumstances, might in time have lived down his
+    taste for strong drink, but that at just that time they shipped a new
+    cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was a big, cadaverous young fellow, who looked too closely after his
+    own interests to be much of a favourite with the other men forward.  On
+    the score of thrift, it was soon discovered that he and Mr. Lister had
+    much in common, and the latter, pleased to find a congenial spirit, was
+    disposed to make the most of him, and spent, despite the heat, much of
+    his spare time in the galley.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You keep to it," said the greybeard impressively; "money was made to be
+    took care of; if you don't spend your money you've always got it.  I've
+    always been a saving man&mdash;what's the result?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook, waiting some time in patience to be told, gently inquired what
+    it was.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Ere am I," said Mr. Lister, good-naturedly helping him to cut a
+    cabbage, "at the age of sixty-two with a bank-book down below in my
+    chest, with one hundered an' ninety pounds odd in it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "One 'undered and ninety pounds!" repeated the cook, with awe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "To say nothing of other things," continued Mr. Lister, with joyful
+    appreciation of the effect he was producing.  "Altogether I've got a
+    little over four 'undered pounds."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook gasped, and with gentle firmness took the cabbage from him as
+    being unfit work for a man of such wealth.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's very nice," he said, slowly.  "It's very nice.  You'll be able to
+    live on it in your old age."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister shook his head mournfully, and his eyes became humid.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's no old age for me," he said, sadly; "but you needn't tell them,"
+    and he jerked his thumb towards the forecastle.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No, no," said the cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've never been one to talk over my affairs," said Mr. Lister, in a low
+    voice.  "I've never yet took fancy enough to anybody so to do.  No, my
+    lad, I'm saving up for somebody else."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What are you going to live on when you're past work then?" demanded the
+    other.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister took him gently by the sleeve, and his voice sank with the
+    solemnity of his subject: "I'm not going to have no old age," he said,
+    resignedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not going to live!" repeated the cook, gazing uneasily at a knife by his
+    side.  "How do you know?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I went to a orsepittle in London," said Mr. Lister.  "I've been to two
+    or three altogether, while the money I've spent on doctors is more than I
+    like to think of, and they're all surprised to think that I've lived so
+    long.  I'm so chock-full o' complaints, that they tell me I can't live
+    more than two years, and I might go off at any moment."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, you've got money," said the cook, "why don't you knock off work
+    now and spend the evenin' of your life ashore?  Why should you save up
+    for your relatives?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've got no relatives," said Mr. Lister; "I'm all alone.  I 'spose I
+    shall leave my money to some nice young feller, and I hope it'll do 'im
+    good."
+</p>
+<p>
+    With the dazzling thoughts which flashed through the cook's brain the
+    cabbage dropped violently into the saucepan, and a shower of cooling
+    drops fell on both men.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I 'spose you take medicine?" he said, at length.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A little rum," said Mr. Lister, faintly; "the doctors tell me that it is
+    the only thing that keeps me up&mdash;o' course, the chaps down there "&mdash;he
+    indicated the forecastle again with a jerk of his head&mdash;"accuse me o'
+    taking too much."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What do ye take any notice of 'em for?" inquired the other, indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I 'spose it is foolish," admitted Mr. Lister; "but I don't like being
+    misunderstood.  I keep my troubles to myself as a rule, cook.  I don't
+    know what's made me talk to you like this.  I 'eard the other day you was
+    keeping company with a young woman."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, I won't say as I ain't," replied the other, busying himself over
+    the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "An' the best thing, too, my lad," said the old man, warmly.  "It keeps
+    you stiddy, keeps you out of public-'ouses; not as they ain't good in
+    moderation&mdash;I 'ope you'll be 'appy."
+</p>
+<p>
+    A friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled the remainder
+    of the crew not a little.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook thanked him, and noticed that Mr. Lister was fidgeting with a
+    piece of paper.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A little something I wrote the other day," said the old man, catching
+    his eye.  "If I let you see it, will you promise not to tell a soul about
+    it, and not to give me no thanks?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The wondering cook promised, and, the old man being somewhat emphatic on
+    the subject, backed his promise with a home made affidavit of singular
+    power and profanity.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Here it is, then," said Mr. Lister.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook took the paper, and as he read the letters danced before him.
+    He blinked his eyes and started again, slowly.  In plain black and white
+    and nondescript-coloured finger-marks, Mr. Lister, after a general
+    statement as to his bodily and mental health, left the whole of his
+    estate to the cook.  The will was properly dated and witnessed, and the
+    cook's voice shook with excitement and emotion as he offered to hand it
+    back.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't know what I've done for you to do this," he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister waved it away again.  "Keep it," he said, simply; "while
+    you've got it on you, you'll know it's safe."
+</p>
+<p>
+    From this moment a friendship sprang up between the two men which puzzled
+    the remainder of the crew not a little.  The attitude of the cook was as
+    that of a son to a father: the benignancy of Mr. Lister beautiful to
+    behold.  It was noticed, too, that he had abandoned the reprehensible
+    practice of hanging round tavern doors in favour of going inside and
+    drinking the cook's health.
+</p>
+<a name="image-15"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/015.jpg" height="899" width="528"
+alt="'a Friendship Sprang up Between the Two Men Which Puzzled
+The Remainder of the Crew Not a Little.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    For about six months the cook, although always in somewhat straitened
+    circumstances, was well content with the tacit bargain, and then, bit by
+    bit, the character of Mr. Lister was revealed to him.  It was not a nice
+    character, but subtle; and when he made the startling discovery that a
+    will could be rendered invalid by the simple process of making another
+    one the next day, he became as a man possessed.  When he ascertained that
+    Mr. Lister when at home had free quarters at the house of a married
+    niece, he used to sit about alone, and try and think of ways and means of
+    securing capital sunk in a concern which seemed to show no signs of being
+    wound-up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've got a touch of the 'art again, lad," said the elderly invalid, as
+    they sat alone in the forecastle one night at Seacole.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You move about too much," said the cook.  "Why not turn in and rest?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister, who had not expected this, fidgeted.  "I think I'll go ashore
+    a bit and try the air," he said, suggestively.  "I'll just go as far as
+    the Black Horse and back.  You won't have me long now, my lad."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No, I know," said the cook; "that's what's worrying me a bit."
+    "Don't worry about me," said the old man, pausing with his hand on the
+    other's shoulder; "I'm not worth it.  Don't look so glum, lad."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've got something on my mind, Jem," said the cook, staring straight in
+    front of him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What is it?" inquired Mr. Lister.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You know what you told me about those pains in your inside?" said the
+    cook, without looking at him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Jem groaned and felt his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And what you said about its being a relief to die," continued the other,
+    "only you was afraid to commit suicide?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well?" said Mr. Lister.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It used to worry me," continued the cook, earnestly.  "I used to say to
+    myself, 'Poor old Jem,' I ses, 'why should 'e suffer like this when he
+    wants to die?  It seemed 'ard.'"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It is 'ard," said Mr. Lister, "but what about it?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The other made no reply, but looking at him for the first time, surveyed
+    him with a troubled expression.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What about it?" repeated Mr. Lister, with some emphasis.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You did say you wanted to die, didn't you?"  said the cook.  "Now
+    suppose suppose&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Suppose what?" inquired the old man, sharply.  "Why don't you say what
+    you're agoing to say?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Suppose," said the cook, "some one what liked you, Jem&mdash;what liked you,
+    mind&mdash;'eard you say this over and over again, an' see you sufferin' and
+    'eard you groanin' and not able to do nothin' for you except lend you a
+    few shillings here and there for medicine, or stand you a few glasses o'
+    rum; suppose they knew a chap in a chemist's shop?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Suppose they did?" said the other, turning pale.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A chap what knows all about p'isons," continued the cook, "p'isons what
+    a man can take without knowing it in 'is grub.  Would it be wrong, do you
+    think, if that friend I was speaking about put it in your food to put you
+    out of your misery?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wrong," said Mr. Lister, with glassy eyes.  "Wrong.  Look 'ere, cook&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't mean anything to give him pain," said the other, waving his
+    hand; "you ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you, Jem?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Do you mean to say!" shouted Mr. Lister.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't mean to say anything," said the cook.  "Answer my question.  You
+    ain't felt no pain lately, 'ave you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Have&mdash;you&mdash;been&mdash;putting&mdash;p'ison&mdash;in&mdash;my&mdash;wittles?" demanded Mr. Lister,
+    in trembling accents.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "If I 'ad, Jem, supposin' that I 'ad," said the cook, in accents of
+    reproachful surprise, "do you mean to say that you'd mind?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "MIND," said Mr. Lister, with fervour.  "I'd 'ave you 'ung!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "But you said you wanted to die," said the surprised cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister swore at him with startling vigour.  "I'll 'ave you 'ung," he
+    repeated, wildly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Me," said the cook, artlessly.  "What for?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "For giving me p'ison," said Mr. Lister, frantically.  "Do you think you
+    can deceive me by your roundabouts?  Do you think I can't see through
+    you?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    The other with a sphinx-like smile sat unmoved.  "Prove it," he said,
+    darkly.  "But supposin' if anybody 'ad been givin' you p'ison, would you
+    like to take something to prevent its acting?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'd take gallons of it," said Mr. Lister, feverishly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The other sat pondering, while the old man watched him anxiously.  "It's
+    a pity you don't know your own mind, Jem," he said, at length; "still,
+    you know your own business best.  But it's very expensive stuff."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "How much?" inquired the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, they won't sell more than two shillings-worth at a time," said the
+    cook, trying to speak carelessly, "but if you like to let me 'ave the
+    money, I'll go ashore to the chemist's and get the first lot now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Mr. Lister's face was a study in emotions, which the other tried in vain
+    to decipher.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then he slowly extracted the amount from his trousers-pocket, and handed
+    it over with-out a word.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll go at once," said the cook, with a little feeling, "and I'll never
+    take a man at his word again, Jem."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He ran blithely up on deck, and stepping ashore, spat on the coins for
+    luck and dropped them in his pocket.  Down below, Mr. Lister, with his
+    chin in his hand, sat in a state of mind pretty evenly divided between
+    rage and fear.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook, who was in no mood for company, missed the rest of the crew by
+    two public-houses, and having purchased a baby's teething powder and
+    removed the label, had a congratulatory drink or two before going on
+    board again.  A chatter of voices from the forecastle warned him that the
+    crew had returned, but the tongues ceased abruptly as he descended, and
+    three pairs of eyes surveyed him in grim silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What's up?" he demanded.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot 'ave you been doin' to poor old Jem?" demanded Henshaw, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Nothin'," said the other, shortly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You ain't been p'isoning 'im?" demanded Henshaw.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Certainly not," said the cook, emphatically.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He ses you told 'im you p'isoned 'im," said Henshaw, solemnly, "and 'e
+    give you two shillings to get something to cure 'im.  It's too late now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What?" stammered the bewildered cook.  He looked round anxiously at the
+    men.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They were all very grave, and the silence became oppressive.
+    "Where is he?" he demanded.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henshaw and the others exchanged glances.  "He's gone mad," said he,
+    slowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Mad?" repeated the horrified cook, and, seeing the aversion of the crew,
+    in a broken voice he narrated the way in which he had been victimized.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, you've done it now," said Henshaw, when he had finished.  "He's
+    gone right orf 'is 'ed."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Where is he?" inquired the cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Where you can't follow him," said the other, slowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Heaven?" hazarded the unfortunate cook.  "No; skipper's bunk," said Lea.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh, can't I foller 'im?" said the cook, starting up.  "I'll soon 'ave
+    'im out o' that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Better leave 'im alone," said Henshaw.  "He was that wild we couldn't do
+    nothing with 'im, singing an' larfin' and crying all together&mdash;I
+    certainly thought he was p'isoned."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll swear I ain't touched him," said the cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, you've upset his reason," said Henshaw; "there'll be an awful row
+    when the skipper comes aboard and finds 'im in 'is bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Well, come an' 'elp me to get 'im out," said the cook.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I ain't going to be mixed up in it," said Henshaw, shaking his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you, Bill," said the other two.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot the skipper'll say I don't know," said Henshaw; "anyway, it'll be
+    said to you, not&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll go and get 'im out if 'e was five madmen," said the cook,
+    compressing his lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You'll harve to carry 'im out, then," said Henshaw.  "I don't wish you
+    no 'arm, cook, and perhaps it would be as well to get 'im out afore the
+    skipper or mate comes aboard.  If it was me, I know what I should do."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What?" inquired the cook, breathlessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Draw a sack over his head," said Henshaw, impressively; "he'll scream
+    like blazes as soon as you touch him, and rouse the folks ashore if you
+    don't.  Besides that, if you draw it well down it'll keep his arms fast."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook thanked him fervently, and routing out a sack, rushed hastily on
+    deck, his departure being the signal for Mr. Henshaw and his friends to
+    make preparations for retiring for the night so hastily as almost to
+    savour of panic.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook, after a hasty glance ashore, went softly below with the sack
+    over his arm and felt his way in the darkness to the skipper's bunk.  The
+    sound of deep and regular breathing reassured him, and without undue
+    haste he opened the mouth of the sack and gently raised the sleeper's
+    head.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Eh?  Wha&mdash;&mdash;" began a sleepy voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The next moment the cook had bagged him, and gripping him tightly round
+    the middle, turned a deaf ear to the smothered cries of his victim as he
+    strove to lift him out of the bunk.  In the exciting time which followed,
+    he had more than one reason for thinking that he had caught a centipede.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Now, you keep still," he cried, breathlessly.  "I'm not going to hurt
+    you."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He got his burden out of bed at last, and staggered to the foot of the
+    companion-ladder with it.  Then there was a halt, two legs sticking
+    obstinately across the narrow way and refusing to be moved, while a
+    furious humming proceeded from the other end of the sack.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Four times did the exhausted cook get his shoulder under his burden and
+    try and push it up the ladder, and four times did it wriggle and fight
+    its way down again.  Half crazy with fear and rage, he essayed it for the
+    fifth time, and had got it half-way up when there was a sudden
+    exclamation of surprise from above, and the voice of the mate sharply
+    demanding an explanation.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What the blazes are you up to?" he cried.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's all right, sir," said the panting cook; "old Jem's had a drop too
+    much and got down aft, and I'm getting 'im for'ard again."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Jem?" said the astonished mate.  "Why, he's sitting up here on the
+    fore-hatch.  He came aboard with me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Sitting," began the horrified cook; "sit&mdash;oh, lor!"
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stood with his writhing burden wedged between his body and the ladder,
+    and looked up despairingly at the mate.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm afraid I've made a mistake," he said in a trembling voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The mate struck a match and looked down.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Take that sack off," he demanded, sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cook placed his burden upon its feet, and running up the ladder stood
+    by the mate shivering.  The latter struck another match, and the twain
+    watched in breathless silence the writhings of the strange creature below
+    as the covering worked slowly upwards.  In the fourth match it got free,
+    and revealed the empurpled visage of the master of the <i>Susannah</i>.  For
+    the fraction of a second the cook gazed at him in speechless horror, and
+    then, with a hopeless cry, sprang ashore and ran for it, hotly pursued by
+    his enraged victim.  At the time of sailing he was still absent, and the
+    skipper, loth to part two such friends, sent Mr. James Lister, at the
+    urgent request of the anxious crew, to look for him.
+</p>
+<a name="2H_4_10"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>
+    THE WHITE CAT
+</h2>
+<a name="image-16"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/016.jpg" height="477" width="400"
+alt="'the White Cat.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    The traveller stood looking from the tap-room window of the <i>Cauliflower</i>
+    at the falling rain.  The village street below was empty, and everything
+    was quiet with the exception of the garrulous old man smoking with much
+    enjoyment on the settle behind him.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It'll do a power o' good," said the ancient, craning his neck round the
+    edge of the settle and turning a bleared eye on the window.  "I ain't
+    like some folk; I never did mind a drop o' rain."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The traveller grunted and, returning to the settle opposite the old man,
+    fell to lazily stroking a cat which had strolled in attracted by the
+    warmth of the small fire which smouldered in the grate.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's a good mouser," said the old man, "but I expect that Smith the
+    landlord would sell 'im to anybody for arf a crown; but we 'ad a cat in
+    Claybury once that you couldn't ha' bought for a hundred golden
+    sovereigns."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The traveller continued to caress the cat.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "A white cat, with one yaller eye and one blue one," continued the old
+    man.  "It sounds queer, but it's as true as I sit 'ere wishing that I 'ad
+    another mug o' ale as good as the last you gave me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    The traveller, with a start that upset the cat's nerves, finished his own
+    mug, and then ordered both to be refilled.  He stirred the fire into a
+    blaze, and, lighting his pipe and putting one foot on to the hob,
+    prepared to listen.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It used to belong to old man Clark, young Joe Clark's uncle, said the
+    ancient, smacking his lips delicately over the ale and extending a
+    tremulous claw to the tobacco-pouch pushed towards him; and he was never
+    tired of showing it off to people.  He used to call it 'is blue-eyed
+    darling, and the fuss 'e made o' that cat was sinful.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Young Joe Clark couldn't bear it, but being down in 'is uncle's will for
+    five cottages and a bit o' land bringing in about forty pounds a year, he
+    'ad to 'ide his feelings and pretend as he loved it.  He used to take it
+    little drops o' cream and tit-bits o' meat, and old Clark was so pleased
+    that 'e promised 'im that he should 'ave the cat along with all the other
+    property when 'e was dead.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Young Joe said he couldn't thank 'im enough, and the old man, who 'ad
+    been ailing a long time, made 'im come up every day to teach 'im 'ow to
+    take care of it arter he was gone.  He taught Joe 'ow to cook its meat
+    and then chop it up fine; 'ow it liked a clean saucer every time for its
+    milk; and 'ow he wasn't to make a noise when it was asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Take care your children don't worry it, Joe," he ses one day, very
+    sharp.  "One o' your boys was pulling its tail this morning, and I want
+    you to clump his 'ead for 'im."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Which one was it?" ses Joe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "The slobbery-nosed one," ses old Clark.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll give 'im a clout as soon as I get 'ome," ses Joe, who was very fond
+    of 'is children.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Go and fetch 'im and do it 'ere," ses the old man; "that'll teach 'im to
+    love animals."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Joe went off 'ome to fetch the boy, and arter his mother 'ad washed his
+    face, and wiped his nose, an' put a clean pinneyfore on 'im, he took 'im
+    to 'is uncle's and clouted his 'ead for 'im.  Arter that Joe and 'is wife
+    'ad words all night long, and next morning old Clark, coming in from the
+    garden, was just in time to see 'im kick the cat right acrost the
+    kitchen.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He could 'ardly speak for a minute, and when 'e could Joe see plain wot a
+    fool he'd been.  Fust of all 'e called Joe every name he could think of&mdash;
+    which took 'im a long time&mdash;and then he ordered 'im out of 'is house.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You shall 'ave my money wen your betters have done with it," he ses,
+    "and not afore.  That's all you've done for yourself."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Joe Clark didn't know wot he meant at the time, but when old Clark died
+    three months arterwards 'e found out.  His uncle 'ad made a new will and
+    left everything to old George Barstow for as long as the cat lived,
+    providing that he took care of it.  When the cat was dead the property
+    was to go to Joe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cat was only two years old at the time, and George Barstow, who was
+    arf crazy with joy, said it shouldn't be 'is fault if it didn't live
+    another twenty years.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The funny thing was the quiet way Joe Clark took it.  He didn't seem to
+    be at all cut up about it, and when Henery Walker said it was a shame,
+    'e said he didn't mind, and that George Barstow was a old man, and he was
+    quite welcome to 'ave the property as long as the cat lived.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It must come to me by the time I'm an old man," he ses, "ard that's all
+    I care about."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker went off, and as 'e passed the cottage where old Clark used
+    to live, and which George Barstow 'ad moved into, 'e spoke to the old man
+    over the palings and told 'im wot Joe Clark 'ad said.  George Barstow
+    only grunted and went on stooping and prying over 'is front garden.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Bin and lost something?" ses Henery Walker, watching 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "No; I'm finding," ses George Barstow, very fierce, and picking up
+    something.  "That's the fifth bit o' powdered liver I've found in my
+    garden this morning."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker went off whistling, and the opinion he'd 'ad o' Joe Clark
+    began to improve.  He spoke to Joe about it that arternoon, and Joe said
+    that if 'e ever accused 'im o' such a thing again he'd knock 'is 'ead
+    off.  He said that he 'oped the cat 'ud live to be a hundred, and that
+    'e'd no more think of giving it poisoned meat than Henery Walker would of
+    paying for 'is drink so long as 'e could get anybody else to do it for
+    'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    They 'ad bets up at this 'ere <i>Cauliflower</i> public-'ouse that evening as to
+    'ow long that cat 'ud live.  Nobody gave it more than a month, and Bill
+    Chambers sat and thought o' so many ways o' killing it on the sly that it
+    was wunnerful to hear 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Barstow took fright when he 'eard of them, and the care 'e took o'
+    that cat was wunnerful to behold.  Arf its time it was shut up in the
+    back bedroom, and the other arf George Barstow was fussing arter it till
+    that cat got to hate 'im like pison.  Instead o' giving up work as he'd
+    thought to do, 'e told Henery Walker that 'e'd never worked so 'ard in
+    his life.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot about fresh air and exercise for it?" ses Henery.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot about Joe Clark?" ses George Bar-stow.  "I'm tied 'and and foot.  I
+    dursent leave the house for a moment.  I ain't been to the <i>Cauliflower</i>
+    since I've 'ad it, and three times I got out o' bed last night to see if
+    it was safe."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Mark my words," ses Henery Walker; "if that cat don't 'ave exercise,
+    you'll lose it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I shall lose it if it does 'ave exercise," ses George Barstow, "that I
+    know."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He sat down thinking arter Henery Walker 'ad gone, and then he 'ad a
+    little collar and chain made for it, and took it out for a walk.  Pretty
+    nearly every dog in Claybury went with 'em, and the cat was in such a
+    state o' mind afore they got 'ome he couldn't do anything with it.  It
+    'ad a fit as soon as they got indoors, and George Barstow, who 'ad read
+    about children's fits in the almanac, gave it a warm bath.  It brought it
+    round immediate, and then it began to tear round the room and up and
+    downstairs till George Barstow was afraid to go near it.
+</p>
+<a name="image-17"><!--IMG--></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/017.jpg" height="873" width="550"
+alt="'He 'ad a Little Collar and Chain Made for It, And Took It
+Out for a Walk.'
+">
+</center>
+<!--IMAGE END-->
+<p>
+    It was so bad that evening, sneezing, that George Barstow sent for Bill
+    Chambers, who'd got a good name for doctoring animals, and asked 'im to
+    give it something.  Bill said he'd got some powders at 'ome that would
+    cure it at once, and he went and fetched 'em and mixed one up with a bit
+    o' butter.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's the way to give a cat medicine," he ses; "smear it with the
+    butter and then it'll lick it off, powder and all."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He was just going to rub it on the cat when George Barstow caught 'old of
+    'is arm and stopped 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "How do I know it ain't pison?" he ses.  "You're a friend o' Joe Clark's,
+    and for all I know he may ha' paid you to pison it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I wouldn't do such a thing," ses Bill.  "You ought to know me better
+    than that."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "All right," ses George Barstow; "you eat it then, and I'll give you two
+    shillings in stead o' one.  You can easy mix some more."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not me," ses Bill Chambers, making a face.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, three shillings, then," ses George Barstow, getting more and more
+    suspicious like; "four shillings&mdash;five shillings."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill Chambers shook his 'ead, and George Barstow, more and more certain
+    that he 'ad caught 'im trying to kill 'is cat and that 'e wouldn't eat
+    the stuff, rose 'im up to ten shillings.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill looked at the butter and then 'e looked at the ten shillings on the
+    table, and at last he shut 'is eyes and gulped it down and put the money
+    in 'is pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You see, I 'ave to be careful, Bill," ses George Barstow, rather upset.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill Chambers didn't answer 'im.  He sat there as white as a sheet, and
+    making such extraordinary faces that George was arf afraid of 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Anything wrong, Bill?" he ses at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bill sat staring at 'im, and then all of a sudden he clapped 'is
+    'andkerchief to 'is mouth and, getting up from his chair, opened the door
+    and rushed out.  George Barstow thought at fust that he 'ad eaten pison
+    for the sake o' the ten shillings, but when 'e remembered that Bill
+    Chambers 'ad got the most delikit stummick in Claybury he altered 'is
+    mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The cat was better next morning, but George Barstow had 'ad such a fright
+    about it 'e wouldn't let it go out of 'is sight, and Joe Clark began to
+    think that 'e would 'ave to wait longer for that property than 'e had
+    thought, arter all.  To 'ear 'im talk anybody'd ha' thought that 'e loved
+    that cat.  We didn't pay much attention to it up at the <i>Cauliflower</i>
+    'ere, except maybe to wink at 'im&mdash;a thing he couldn't a bear&mdash;but at
+    'ome, o' course, his young 'uns thought as everything he said was
+    Gospel; and one day, coming 'ome from work, as he was passing George
+    Barstow's he was paid out for his deceitfulness.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've wronged you, Joe Clark," ses George Barstow, coming to the door,
+    "and I'm sorry for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh!" ses Joe, staring.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Give that to your little Jimmy," ses George Barstow, giving 'im a
+    shilling.  "I've give 'im one, but I thought arterwards it wasn't
+    enough."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "What for?" ses Joe, staring at 'im agin.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "For bringing my cat 'ome," ses George Barstow.  "'Ow it got out I can't
+    think, but I lost it for three hours, and I'd about given it up when your
+    little Jimmy brought it to me in 'is arms.  He's a fine little chap and
+    'e does you credit."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Joe Clark tried to speak, but he couldn't get a word out, and Henery
+    Walker, wot 'ad just come up and 'eard wot passed, took hold of 'is arm
+    and helped 'im home.  He walked like a man in a dream, but arf-way he
+    stopped and cut a stick from the hedge to take 'ome to little Jimmy.  He
+    said the boy 'ad been asking him for a stick for some time, but up till
+    then 'e'd always forgotten it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    At the end o' the fust year that cat was still alive, to everybody's
+    surprise; but George Barstow took such care of it 'e never let it out of
+    'is sight.  Every time 'e went out he took it with 'im in a hamper, and,
+    to prevent its being pisoned, he paid Isaac Sawyer, who 'ad the biggest
+    family in Claybury, sixpence a week to let one of 'is boys taste its milk
+    before it had it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    The second year it was ill twice, but the horse-doctor that George
+    Barstow got for it said that it was as 'ard as nails, and with care it
+    might live to be twenty.  He said that it wanted more fresh air and
+    exercise; but when he 'eard 'ow George Barstow come by it he said that
+    p'r'aps it would live longer indoors arter all.
+</p>
+<p>
+    At last one day, when George Barstow 'ad been living on the fat o' the
+    land for nearly three years, that cat got out agin.  George 'ad raised
+    the front-room winder two or three inches to throw something outside,
+    and, afore he knew wot was 'appening, the cat was out-side and going up
+    the road about twenty miles an hour.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Barstow went arter it, but he might as well ha' tried to catch the
+    wind.  The cat was arf wild with joy at getting out agin, and he couldn't
+    get within arf a mile of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    He stayed out all day without food or drink, follering it about until it
+    came on dark, and then, o' course, he lost sight of it, and, hoping
+    against 'ope that it would come home for its food, he went 'ome and
+    waited for it.  He sat up all night dozing in a chair in the front room
+    with the door left open, but it was all no use; and arter thinking for a
+    long time wot was best to do, he went out and told some o' the folks it
+    was lost and offered a reward of five pounds for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    You never saw such a hunt then in all your life.  Nearly every man,
+    woman, and child in Claybury left their work or school and went to try
+    and earn that five pounds.  By the arternoon George Barstow made it ten
+    pounds provided the cat was brought 'ome safe and sound, and people as
+    was too old to walk stood at their cottage doors to snap it up as it came
+    by.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Joe Clark was hunting for it 'igh and low, and so was 'is wife and the
+    boys.  In fact, I b'lieve that everybody in Claybury excepting the parson
+    and Bob Pretty was trying to get that ten pounds.
+</p>
+<p>
+    O' course, we could understand the parson&mdash;'is pride wouldn't let 'im;
+    but a low, poaching, thieving rascal like Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose
+    at ten pounds was more than we could make out.  Even on the second day,
+    when George Barstow made it ten pounds down and a shilling a week for a
+    year besides, he didn't offer to stir; all he did was to try and make fun
+    o' them as was looking for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Have you looked everywhere you can think of for it, Bill?" he ses to
+    Bill Chambers.  "Yes, I 'ave," ses Bill.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, then, you want to look everywhere else," ses Bob Pretty.  "I know
+    where I should look if I wanted to find it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Why don't you find it, then?" ses Bill.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Cos I don't want to make mischief," ses Bob Pretty.  "I don't want to
+    be unneighbourly to Joe Clark by interfering at all."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not for all that money?" ses Bill.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not for fifty pounds," ses Bob Pretty; "you ought to know me better than
+    that, Bill Chambers."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's my belief that you know more about where that cat is than you ought
+    to," ses Joe Gubbins.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You go on looking for it, Joe," ses Bob Pretty, grinning; "it's good
+    exercise for you, and you've only lost two days' work."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll give you arf a crown if you let me search your 'ouse, Bob," ses
+    Bill Chambers, looking at 'im very 'ard.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I couldn't do it at the price, Bill," ses Bob Pretty, shaking his 'ead.
+    "I'm a pore man, but I'm very partikler who I 'ave come into my 'ouse."
+</p>
+<p>
+    O' course, everybody left off looking at once when they heard about Bob&mdash;
+    not that they believed that he'd be such a fool as to keep the cat in his
+    'ouse; and that evening, as soon as it was dark, Joe Clark went round to
+    see 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't tell me as that cat's found, Joe," ses Bob Pretty, as Joe opened
+    the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not as I've 'eard of," said Joe, stepping inside.  "I wanted to speak to
+    you about it; the sooner it's found the better I shall be pleased."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It does you credit, Joe Clark," ses Bob Pretty.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's my belief that it's dead," ses Joe, looking at 'im very 'ard; "but
+    I want to make sure afore taking over the property."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob Pretty looked at 'im and then he gave a little cough.  "Oh, you want
+    it to be found dead," he ses.  "Now, I wonder whether that cat's worth
+    most dead or alive?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Joe Clark coughed then.  "Dead, I should think," he ses at last.
+    "George Barstow's just 'ad bills printed offering fifteen pounds for it,"
+    ses Bob Pretty.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll give that or more when I come into the property," ses Joe Clark.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's nothing like ready-money, though, is there?" ses Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'll promise it to you in writing, Bob," ses Joe, trembling.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "There's some things that don't look well in writing, Joe," says Bob
+    Pretty, considering; "besides, why should you promise it to me?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "O' course, I meant if you found it," ses Joe.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Well, I'll do my best, Joe," ses Bob Pretty; "and none of us can do no
+    more than that, can they?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    They sat talking and argufying over it for over an hour, and twice Bob
+    Pretty got up and said 'e was going to see whether George Barstow
+    wouldn't offer more.  By the time they parted they was as thick as
+    thieves, and next morning Bob Pretty was wearing Joe Clark's watch and
+    chain, and Mrs. Pretty was up at Joe's 'ouse to see whether there was any
+    of 'is furniture as she 'ad a fancy for.
+</p>
+<p>
+    She didn't seem to be able to make up 'er mind at fust between a chest o'
+    drawers that 'ad belonged to Joe's mother and a grand-father clock.  She
+    walked from one to the other for about ten minutes, and then Bob, who 'ad
+    come in to 'elp her, told 'er to 'ave both.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're quite welcome," he ses; "ain't she, Joe?"
+</p>
+<p>
+    Joe Clark said "Yes," and arter he 'ad helped them carry 'em 'ome the
+    Prettys went back and took the best bedstead to pieces, cos Bob said as
+    it was easier to carry that way.  Mrs. Clark 'ad to go and sit down at
+    the bottom o' the garden with the neck of 'er dress undone to give
+    herself air, but when she saw the little Prettys each walking 'ome with
+    one of 'er best chairs on their 'eads she got and walked up and down like
+    a mad thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I'm sure I don't know where we are to put it all," ses Bob Pretty to Joe
+    Gubbins, wot was looking on with other folks, "but Joe Clark is that
+    generous he won't 'ear of our leaving anything."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Has 'e gorn mad?" ses Bill Chambers, staring at 'im.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Not as I knows on," ses Bob Pretty.  "It's 'is good-'artedness, that's
+    all.  He feels sure that that cat's dead, and that he'll 'ave George
+    Barstow's cottage and furniture.  I told 'im he'd better wait till he'd
+    made sure, but 'e wouldn't."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Before they'd finished the Prettys 'ad picked that 'ouse as clean as a
+    bone, and Joe Clark 'ad to go and get clean straw for his wife and
+    children to sleep on; not that Mrs. Clark 'ad any sleep that night, nor
+    Joe neither.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Henery Walker was the fust to see what it really meant, and he went
+    rushing off as fast as 'e could run to tell George Barstow.  George
+    couldn't believe 'im at fust, but when 'e did he swore that if a 'air of
+    that cat's head was harmed 'e'd 'ave the law o' Bob Pretty, and arter
+    Henery Walker 'ad gone 'e walked round to tell 'im so.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You're not yourself, George Barstow, else you wouldn't try and take away
+    my character like that," ses Bob Pretty.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot did Joe Clark give you all them things for?" ses George, pointing to
+    the furniture.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Took a fancy to me, I s'pose," ses Bob.  "People do sometimes.  There's
+    something about me at times that makes 'em like me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He gave 'em to you to kill my cat," ses George Barstow.  "It's plain
+    enough for any-body to see."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob Pretty smiled.  "I expect it'll turn up safe and sound one o' these
+    days," he ses, "and then you'll come round and beg my pardon.  P'r'aps&mdash;"
+</p>
+<p>
+    "P'r'aps wot?" ses George Barstow, arter waiting a bit.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "P'r'aps somebody 'as got it and is keeping it till you've drawed the
+    fifteen pounds out o' the bank," ses Bob, looking at 'im very hard.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I've taken it out o' the bank," ses George, starting; "if that cat's
+    alive, Bob, and you've got it, there's the fifteen pounds the moment you
+    'and it over."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot d'ye mean&mdash;me got it?" ses Bob Pretty.  "You be careful o' my
+    character."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I mean if you know where it is," ses George Barstow trembling all over.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I don't say I couldn't find it, if that's wot you mean," ses Bob.  "I
+    can gin'rally find things when I want to."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "You find me that cat, alive and well, and the money's yours, Bob," ses
+    George, 'ardly able to speak, now that 'e fancied the cat was still
+    alive.
+</p>
+<p>
+    Bob Pretty shook his 'ead.  "No; that won't do," he ses.  "S'pose I did
+    'ave the luck to find that pore animal, you'd say I'd had it all the time
+    and refuse to pay."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I swear I wouldn't, Bob," ses George Barstow, jumping up.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Best thing you can do if you want me to try and find that cat," says Bob
+    Pretty, "is to give me the fifteen pounds now, and I'll go and look for
+    it at once.  I can't trust you, George Barstow."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "And I can't trust you," ses George Barstow.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Very good," ses Bob, getting up; "there's no 'arm done.  P'r'aps Joe
+    Clark 'll find the cat is dead and p'r'aps you'll find it's alive.  It's
+    all one to me."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Barstow walked off 'ome, but he was in such a state o' mind 'e
+    didn't know wot to do.  Bob Pretty turning up 'is nose at fifteen pounds
+    like that made 'im think that Joe Clark 'ad promised to pay 'im more if
+    the cat was dead; and at last, arter worrying about it for a couple o'
+    hours, 'e came up to this 'ere <i>Cauliflower</i> and offered Bob the fifteen
+    pounds.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Wot's this for?" ses Bob.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "For finding my cat," ses George.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Look here," ses Bob, handing it back, "I've 'ad enough o' your insults;
+    I don't know where your cat is."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I mean for trying to find it, Bob," ses George Barstow.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Oh, well, I don't mind that," ses Bob, taking it.  "I'm a 'ard-working
+    man, and I've got to be paid for my time; it's on'y fair to my wife and
+    children.  I'll start now."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He finished up 'is beer, and while the other chaps was telling George
+    Barstow wot a fool he was Joe Clark slipped out arter Bob Pretty and
+    began to call 'im all the names he could think of.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Don't you worry," ses Bob; "the cat ain't found yet."
+</p>
+<p>
+    "Is it dead?" ses Joe Clark, 'ardly able to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "'Ow should I know?" ses Bob; "that's wot I've got to try and find out.
+    That's wot you gave me your furniture for, and wot George Barstow gave me
+    the fifteen pounds for, ain't it?  Now, don't you stop me now, 'cos I'm
+    goin' to begin looking."
+</p>
+<p>
+    He started looking there and then, and for the next two or three days
+    George Barstow and Joe Clark see 'im walking up and down with his 'ands
+    in 'is pockets looking over garden fences and calling "Puss."  He asked
+    everybody 'e see whether they 'ad seen a white cat with one blue eye and
+    one yaller one, and every time 'e came into the <i>Cauliflower</i> he put his
+    'ead over the bar and called "Puss," 'cos, as 'e said, it was as likely
+    to be there as anywhere else.
+</p>
+<p>
+    It was about a week after the cat 'ad disappeared that George Barstow was
+    standing at 'is door talking to Joe Clark, who was saying the cat must be
+    dead and 'e wanted 'is property, when he sees a man coming up the road
+    carrying a basket stop and speak to Bill Chambers.  Just as 'e got near
+    them an awful "miaow" come from the basket and George Barstow and Joe
+    Clark started as if they'd been shot.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "He's found it?" shouts Bill Chambers, pointing to the man.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "It's been living with me over at Ling for a week pretty nearly," ses the
+    man.  "I tried to drive it away several times, not knowing that there was
+    fifteen pounds offered for it."
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Barstow tried to take 'old of the basket.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "I want that fifteen pounds fust," ses the man.
+</p>
+<p>
+    "That's on'y right and fair, George," ses Bob Pretty, who 'ad just come
+    up.  "You've got all the luck, mate.  We've been hunting 'igh and low for
+    that cat for a week."
+</p>
+<p>
+    Then George Barstow tried to explain to the man and call Bob Pretty names
+    at the same time; but it was all no good.  The man said it 'ad nothing to
+    do with 'im wot he 'ad paid to Bob Pretty; and at last they fetched
+    Policeman White over from Cudford, and George Barstow signed a paper to
+    pay five shillings a week till the reward was paid.
+</p>
+<p>
+    George Barstow 'ad the cat for five years arter that, but he never let it
+    get away agin.  They got to like each other in time and died within a
+    fortnight of each other, so that Joe Clark got 'is property arter all.
+</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captains All and Others, by W.W. Jacobs
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