initial commit of ebook 11191HEAD main

author: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 04:36:13 -0700
committer: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 04:36:13 -0700
commit: e946c00308bffbae1d6833d1fa4bc4ef3e0e5ac0 (patch)
tree: 2aabda4f79095e7111f39ba42d506c4724747495 /old/11191-h
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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>
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:36:13 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:36:13 -0700
commit	e946c00308bffbae1d6833d1fa4bc4ef3e0e5ac0 (patch)
tree	2aabda4f79095e7111f39ba42d506c4724747495 /old/11191-h