John Rowe brought Owen's little trunk all the way from the "Green
Dragon" on his own broad shoulders, and deposited it at Paul Kelson,
Fluke and Company's office. Having done so he hurried off, not wishing
to be thanked, and considering there was not much advantage to be gained
by another parting with his young friend. Owen, however, was
disappointed, when he found that his box had arrived, that he had missed
seeing John.
The instant five o'clock struck, Simon Fluke came out of his office, and
directing one of his porters to bring along the boy's trunk, took Owen
by the hand, and having tucked a thick cotton umbrella under his other
arm, led him out. They trudged along through numerous dirty streets and
alleys, teeming with a ragged and unkempt population, and redolent of
unsavoury odours, until they emerged into a wide thoroughfare.
"Call a coach, boy!" said Mr Fluke, the first words he had spoken since
he had left the office. "How am I to do that, sir?" asked Owen.
"Shout `Coach,' and make a sign with your hand to the first you see."
"Will the coach come up, sir, if I call it?" asked Owen.
"Of course, if the driver hears you," answered Mr Fluke in a sharp
tone. "The boy may be a good arithmetician, but he knows nothing of
London life," he muttered to himself. "To be sure, how should he? But
he must learn--he will in time, I suppose; I once knew no more than he
does."
Owen saw several coaches passing, and he shouted to them at the top of
his voice, but no one took the slightest notice of him. At length the
driver of a tumble-down looking vehicle, with a superb coat of arms on
the panel, made a signal in return and drew up near the pavement.
"You will know how to call a coach in future," said Mr Fluke. "Step
in."
The porter, who had been watching proceedings, not having ventured to
interfere by assisting Owen, put the box in, after Mr Fluke had taken
his seat, and then told the coachman where to drive to. The latter,
applying his whip to the flanks of his horses, made them trot off, for a
few minutes, at a much faster rate than they were accustomed to move at.
They soon, however, resumed their usual slow pace, and not until Mr
Fluke put his head out of the window, and shouted, "Are you going to
sleep, man?" did he again make use of his whip.
"You must learn to find your way on foot, boy," said Mr Fluke. "I do
not take a coach every day; it would be setting a bad example. I never
yet drove up to the counting-house, nor drove away in one, since I
became a partner of old Paul Kelson, and he, it is my belief, never got
into one in his life, until he was taken home in a fit just before his
death."
Owen thought he should have great difficulty in finding his way through
all those streets, but he made no remark on the subject, determining to
note the turnings as carefully as he could, should he accompany Mr
Fluke the next morning back to Wapping.
The coach drove on and on; Mr Fluke was evidently not given to
loquacity, and Owen had plenty of time to indulge in his own
reflections. He wondered what sort of place his newly found relative
was taking him to. He had not been prepossessed with the appearance of
the office, and he concluded that Mr Fluke's dwelling-house would
somewhat resemble it. The coach at last emerged from the crowded
streets into a region of trees and hedge-rows, and in a short time
stopped in front of an old-fashioned red brick house, with a high wall
apparently surrounding a garden behind it. At that moment the door of
the house opened, and a tall thin female in a mob cap appeared.
"Bless me!" she exclaimed, as she advanced across the narrow space
between the gate and the doorway; "and so he has come!"
She eyed Owen narrowly as she spoke. Simon Fluke declining her help as
he stepped out, pointed to Owen's box, which the coachman, who had got
down from his seat, handed to her. Mr Fluke having paid the fare,
about which there was no demur, he knowing the distance to an inch, led
the way into the house, followed by Owen, the old woman, carrying his
box, bringing up the rear.
"I have brought him, Kezia, as I said I possibly might. Do you look
after him; let us have supper in a quarter of an hour, for I am hungry,
and the boy I am sure is."
The house wore a greater air of comfort than Owen expected to find. In
the oak panelled parlour into which Mr Fluke led him a cheerful fire
burned brightly, although the spring was well advanced, while a white
cloth was spread ready for supper.
"Now come into the garden," said his host, who had entered the room,
apparently merely to deposit his umbrella. A glass door opened out on
some steps which led down into a large garden, laid out in beds in which
bloomed a number of beautiful flowers, such as Owen had never before
seen in his life, and on one side, extending along the wall, was a large
greenhouse.
"Do you know what those are, boy?" asked Mr Fluke. "Every one of those
flowers are worth a hundred times its weight in gold. They are all
choice and rare tulips, I may say the choicest and rarest in the
kingdom. I prize them above precious stones, for what ruby or sapphire
can be compared to them for beauty and elegance? You will learn in time
to appreciate them, whatever you do now."
"I am sure I shall, and I think they are very beautiful!" said Owen.
Mr Fluke made up for his former silence by expatiating on the
perfections of his favourites. While the old gentleman was going the
round of his flower beds, stooping down with his hands behind him, to
admire, as if to avoid the temptation of touching the rich blossoms, a
person approached, who, from his green apron, his general costume, and
the wheelbarrow he trundled full of tools before him, was easily
recognised as the gardener. He could not have been much younger than
his master, but was still strong and hearty.
"They are doing well, Joseph; we shall have some more in bloom in a day
or two," observed Mr Fluke.
"Yes, praise the Lord, the weather has been propitious and rewarded the
care we have bestowed on His handiworks," answered the old gardener. "I
am in hopes that the last bulbs the Dutch skipper Captain Van Tronk
brought over will soon be above ground, and they will not be long after
that coming into bloom."
Mr Fluke, having had some confidential conversation with his gardener
on the subject of his bulbs, and given him various directions, it by
that time growing dusk, summoned Owen to return to the house.
"A pretty long quarter of an hour you've been," exclaimed Kezia to her
master, as he re-entered; "it's always so when you get talking to my man
Joseph Crump about the tulips. If the rump steak is over-done it's not
my fault."
Mr Fluke made no reply, except by humbly asking for his slippers, which
Kezia having brought, she assisted him in taking off his shoes.
"There, go in both of you, and you shall have supper soon," she
exclaimed in an authoritative tone, and Mr Fluke shuffled into his
parlour.
Owen remarked, that though Mr Fluke ruled supreme in his
counting-house, there was another here to whom he seemed to yield
implicit obedience. Not a word of remonstrance did he utter at whatever
Kezia told him to do; it was, however, pretty evident that whatever she
did order, was to his advantage. Probably, had she not assumed so
determined a manner, she would have failed to possess the influence she
exerted over her master. He made a sign to Owen to take a seat opposite
him on one side of the fire. Mrs Kezia Crump, as she was generally
designated outside the house, placed an ample supper on the board--in
later days it would have been called a dinner--two basins of soup, some
excellently cooked rump steak, and an apple tart of goodly proportions.
"I know boys like apple tart, and you may help him as often as he asks
for it," she remarked as she put the latter dish on the table.
A single glass of ale was placed by Mr Fluke's side. Owen declined
taking any, for he had never drank anything stronger than water.
"Very right and wise, boy," observed his host in an approving tone.
"You are the better without what you don't require. I never drank a
glass of ale till I was fifty, and might have refrained ten years longer
with advantage, but Kezia insisted that I should take a glass at supper,
and for the sake of quiet I did so. Kezia is not a person who will
stand contradiction. She is sensible though. Could not have endured
her if she were not. But she is not equal to her husband Joseph. The
one rules supreme in the house, the other in the garden. You've seen
what Joseph Crump has done there. What do you think of my tulips? I am
indebted to Joseph for them. Beautiful! glorious! magnificent! Are
they not?"
Owen nodded his head in assent.
"Their worth cannot be told. Once upon a time one of those splendid
bulbs would have fetched thousands. That was nearly two centuries ago,
that events repeat themselves, and, for what we can tell, that time may
come round again, then, Owen, I shall be the richest man in England. No
one possesses tulips equal to mine."
"Indeed," said Owen; and he thought to himself, when at Wapping this old
man's whole soul seems to be absorbed in business, while out here all
his thoughts appear to be occupied in the cultivation of tulips. How
could he have been first led to admire them? Before many minutes were
over Mr Fluke answered the question himself.
"Twenty years ago I scarcely knew that such a flower as a tulip existed,
when one day going on board a Dutch vessel I saw a flower growing in a
pot in the cabin. I was struck by the beauty of its form--its brilliant
colours. I learned its name. I was seized with the desire to possess
it. I bought it of the skipper. The next voyage he brought me over a
number of bulbs. I wanted something to engage my thoughts, and from
that day forward I became fonder and fonder of tulips."
The evening was passed more pleasantly than Owen had anticipated. Mr
Fluke, indeed, appeared to be an altogether different person to what he
had seemed at his first interview with his young relative.
"Boys want more sleep than old men," said Mr Fluke, pulling out his
turnip-like watch.
"Here, Kezia!" he shouted, "come and take him off to bed. She will look
after you," he added, nodding to Owen; "you must do as she bids you
though."
The old man did not even put out a finger as Owen advanced to take his
hand to wish him good night, but said, pointing to Kezia, who just then
entered the room, "There she is; go with her."
"How impatient you are, Mr Fluke, this evening," exclaimed the dame.
"In half a minute more I should have been here, and saved you from
bawling yourself hoarse. I know how the time goes, I should think, at
my age."
Her master made no reply, but merely attempted to whistle, while Kezia,
turning to Owen, said, "Come along, my child." She led him up an oaken
staircase into a room of fair proportions, in which, although the
furniture was of a sombre description, there stood a neat
dimity-curtained bed.
"There, say your prayers and go to bed," said Kezia. "I will come in
presently to tuck you up, and to take away your candle."
"Thank you," said Owen; "you are indeed very kind."
"No, I ain't kind, I just do what I think right," answered the dame,
who, if she did not pride herself on being an original, evidently was
one. "The old man told me that you had lost your parents, and you'll
feel the want of some one to look after you. I once had a little boy
myself. He grew to be bigger than you are, but he was never strong or
hearty. He used to go to the office every day of his life, hot or cold,
rain or sunshine, wet through or dry; he died from over work. It was
more my fault than the old man's though, so I don't blame him, for I
ought to have kept the poor boy in bed instead of letting him go out and
get wet through and through as he did time after time; but I'll take
care that it is not your fate," and Mrs Kezia sighed. "I must not
stand prating here though."
She came in according to her promise. Having carefully tucked him up,
she stooped down and kissed his brow.
"Thank you, thank you," said Owen. The tears rose to his eyes, and he
felt more happy than he could have supposed possible.
"Have you said your prayers?" asked Kezia.
"Yes, I never forget to do that," answered Owen.
"Good night, my child," she said; "the Lord watch over you and keep
you." Taking the light she left him.
His slumbers were peaceful. Kezia took care to call him betimes in the
morning.
"The old man is off early, and he would not be pleased if you were not
ready to start with him," she said.
When Owen came down he saw Mr Fluke in the garden, holding a conference
with Joseph. He presently came in to breakfast, which was as ample a
meal as the supper had been.
Kezia put a small paper parcel into Owen's pocket.
"That will be for your dinner," she said; "you'll want something before
you come back, and you'll get nothing there fit to eat. It's as bad to
let growing boys starve as to leave plants without water, as Joseph
Crump says," and she looked hard at her master.
"Kezia's a wonderful woman," remarked Mr Fluke, after she had left the
room. "I have a great respect for her, as you see. She is worth her
weight in gold; she keeps everything in order, her husband and me to
boot. Years ago, before she came to me, I had a large black tom cat; he
was somewhat of a pet, and as I kept him in order, he always behaved
properly in my presence. He had, however, a great hatred of all
strangers, especially of the woman kind, and no female beggar ever came
to the door but he went out and arched his back, and spat and screeched
and hissed at her until she took her departure. When I engaged Kezia
and Joseph Crump, I thought Tom would understand that they were inmates
of the house, and behave properly. But the very first time Kezia went
upstairs, after she and her husband had installed themselves in their
room below, there was Tom standing on the landing with his back up
lashing his tail, and making a most hideous noise. Most women would
have turned round and run down again, or perhaps tumbled over and broken
their necks; but Kezia advanced, keeping her eye on Tom, and as he
sprang at her, she guessing that he would do so, seized him by the neck
and held him at arm's length until every particle of breath was squeezed
out of his body. `There,' she exclaimed, as she threw him over the
banisters, `two cannot rule in one house,' and she went upstairs and
commenced her work. When I arrived at home, and saw Tom lying dead on
the floor, I asked who had killed the cat. `I killed him,' answered
Kezia, and she then told me how it had happened. `If you think I was
wrong, and don't like it, give me a month's warning; I am ready to go,'
she said. I didn't say a word in reply, and I tell you I have a greater
respect for that woman than for any of her sex, and maybe I have more
fear of her than I ever had of old Tom, who, once or twice, until I
taught him better manners, had shown his evil disposition even to me."
"Mrs Kezia is a very kind, good woman," observed Owen; "I am sure of
that."
"She's a wise woman," answered Mr Fluke; "if she were not, she could
not manage my house. Now, boy, finish your breakfast, and be prepared
to start with me in ten minutes."
Owen lost no time in getting ready.
"Come along," he heard Mr Fluke shout; and hurrying out of the room
where he was waiting, he found that gentleman descending the steps.
"Stay, you have forgotten your umbrella. What are you thinking about,
Mr Fluke, this morning?" exclaimed Kezia, handing it to him as she
spoke.
Mr Fluke tucked it under his arm, and taking Owen by the hand they set
off.
"Do not dawdle on the way back, and take the coach if it rains hard,"
cried Kezia, shouting after them.
They walked the whole distance at a fair pace, which Owen could easily
maintain. He was glad of the exercise, although he did not like passing
through the narrow and dirty streets at the further end of his walk,
where squalor and wretchedness appeared on every side. Mr Fluke being
so used to it, was not moved by what they beheld.
"Surely something ought to be done for these poor people," thought Owen.
"If my father had been here, he would have spent every hour of the day
in visiting among them, and trying to relieve their distress." Owen was
not aware that much of the misery he witnessed arose from the drunken
and dissipated habits of the husbands, and but too often of the wives
also.
On their arrival at the office, which had just before been opened, Mr
Fluke handed Owen over to Mr Tarwig, who at once set him to work.
There was plenty to do. Two clerks had recently left; their places had
not been supplied. Owen was therefore kept hard at work the greater
part of the day, and a short time only allowed him for eating the dinner
which Kezia Crump had provided. He was better off, however, than most
of the clerks, who had only a piece of bread to eat if they remained in
the office, or if they went out, had to take a very hurried, ill-dressed
meal at a cookshop. Some, indeed, were tempted to imbibe instead a
glass of rum or gin, thus commencing a bad habit, which increased on
those who indulged in it.
The weather was fine, and Owen walked backwards and forwards every day
with Mr Fluke. One day a box arrived marked private, and addressed to
S. Fluke, Esquire. On glancing at the contents, Mr Fluke had it again
closed, and that evening he went away earlier than usual, a porter
carrying the box to the nearest coach-stand. Owen was saved his long
walk, which, as the weather grew warmer, was sometimes fatiguing. The
box, which had been carried into the parlour was again opened by Kezia
and Owen, who begged leave to help her. After supper Mr Fluke, who
appeared for the time to have forgotten his tulips, employed himself in
examining the contents, which proved to be the books he had directed
John Rowe to purchase for him.
"Your friend has performed his commission well," he said, as he looked
over book after book. "I recognise Susan's handwriting--your
grandmother, I mean; it must seem a long time ago to you, but to me it
is as yesterday. I had not from the first moment any doubt as to your
being Susan Fluke's grandchild, but I am now convinced of it. You will
find more interesting reading in these books than in any I possess, and
you are welcome to make use of them."
Owen accepted the offer, and for many an evening afterwards pored over
in succession most of the well-remembered volumes.
Mr Fluke, the next morning, on his way to the office, called at an
upholsterer's, and purchased a dark oak bookcase, which he ordered to be
sent home immediately. On his return home, with evident satisfaction he
arranged the books within it.
Owen had every reason to be thankful for the kind treatment he received,
but the life he spent was a dull one. In reply to letters he wrote to
his friends at Fenside they warmly congratulated him on his good
fortune.
Day after day he went to the office, where he was kept hard at work from
the moment of his arrival until the closing hour, for, as it was found
that he was more exact in his calculations than any one else, and as he
wrote a hand equal to the best, he had always plenty to do, a few
minutes only were allowed him to take his frugal dinner. Frequently
also he was unable to enjoy even a few mouthfuls of such fresh air as
Wapping could afford.
Generally he walked in and out with Mr Fluke, but he sometimes had to
go alone. He was soon able to find his way without difficulty, but he
never had an opportunity of going in other directions, so that all he
knew of London was the little he saw of it while visiting the sights
with John Rowe. Whatever the weather, he had to trudge to and fro.
Several times he got wet through, and had to sit all day in his damp
clothes.
Kezia suggested to Mr Fluke that the boy required a fresh suit--"His
own is threadbare, and would be in holes if I did not darn it up at
nights," she observed.
"It's good enough for the office, and what more does he want?" answered
Mr Fluke. "Why, I have worn my suit well-nigh ten years, and it is as
good as ever. Who finds fault with my coat, I should like to know?"
"The boy wants a thick overcoat, at all events," continued Kezia, who
had no intention of letting the matter drop. "If you don't get him one,
I will. He will catch his death of cold one of these days. He is not
looking half as well as he did when he came, although he has grown
wonderfully; he will, indeed, soon be too big for his jacket and
trousers, if they do not come to pieces first."
"Do as you choose, Kezia," said Mr Fluke. "You always will have your
own way, so there's no use contradicting you."
"Then I'll get him a fresh suit and a topcoat before many hours are
over, and not a day too soon either," answered Kezia, rubbing her hands
in the way she always did when well satisfied with herself or with
things in general.
"No! no!" almost shrieked Mr Fluke. "If he gets a topcoat that will
hide the threadbare jacket you talk of, and that will serve well enough
in the office for a year to come, or more."
"You said, Mr Fluke, that I was to do as I chose," exclaimed Kezia,
looking her master in the face. "You are a man of your word, and always
have been from your youth upwards, and I, for one, will not let you
break it in your old age. I choose to get Owen a new suit and a
topcoat, so say no more about the matter."
The next morning Kezia appeared in her bonnet and shawl as Owen was
about to start.
"Let the old man go on first, I am going with you," she said.
Mr Fluke was never a moment behind time in starting from home, and he
knew that Owen could easily overtake him.
Kezia accompanied Owen to Mr Snipton's, a respectable tailor in the
City, where she ordered an entire suit and a thoroughly comfortable
topcoat.
"Take his measure," she said, "and allow for his growing; remember Simon
Fluke will pay for the things."
Mr Snipton did as he was directed, and while Owen hurried on to
overtake Mr Fluke before he reached the office, Kezia returned home.
Owen had, however, to wear his threadbare jacket for some days longer.
During this period he was returning one evening, and was crossing
Bishopsgate Street, when a hooded gig, or cab, as it was called,
containing two young gentlemen--one of whom, dressed in a naval uniform,
was driving--came dashing along at a rapid rate. It was in a narrow
part of the street, of which a waggon and some other vehicles occupied a
considerable portion. In attempting to pass between the waggon and
pavement the cab was driven against the hinder wheel of the ponderous
waggon, which was going in the same direction that it was--towards the
Bank. The natural consequence ensued--the horse came down, and both the
young gentlemen were thrown out, one narrowly escaping falling under the
wheel of the waggon, while the tiger behind, whose head struck against
the hood, fell off stunned. Owen ran forward to render what assistance
he could.
"Go to the horse's head, boy!" exclaimed the elder of the gentlemen,
addressing Owen in an imperious tone, while he was picking himself up.
"Reginald, are you hurt?"
"Not much," was the answer of the younger, who began swearing in no
measured terms at the waggoner for not keeping out of the way, and
ordering him to stop. The latter, however, taking no notice of this,
went on. "They got the worst of it this time," he muttered. "Better
that than to have run over an old woman, as I see'd just such a pair as
they do not long ago."
A fresh volley of abuse uttered by the young naval officer followed the
retreating waggoner.
"Come, Reginald, don't waste your breath on the rascal," cried the elder
gentleman. "I'll help the boy to hold down the horse, while you undo
the traces. What's become of Cato?"
"Here I, my Lord," said the black tiger, who, having partially
recovered, now came hobbling up.
Owen, in the meantime, had been using every exertion to keep down the
spirited horse, until the harness, detached from the cab, would allow
the animal to rise without injuring itself. Several persons, mostly
idle men and women, instead of coming forward to assist, stood by,
amused at the disaster which had occurred to the gentlemen.
"Had but the young cove kept a decent tongue in his head plenty would
have been ready to help him," remarked one of the bystanders.
The black boy seemed somewhat afraid of the horse, and having scarcely
recovered was of no use. The gentlemen, therefore, had to depend on
their own exertions, aided by Owen.
The one called Reginald, when once he set to work, quickly got the
harness unstrapped.
"Here, Arlingford, you take the horse's head, and let him get up. Out
of the way, boy, or he'll be over you," he shouted to Owen.
The horse, hitherto held down by Owen, rose to its feet. It took some
time before the eldest of the young men, by patting its neck and
speaking soothingly, could quiet the animal sufficiently to be again put
into the cab. Owen assisted in buckling up the harness, while the black
tiger, now recovered, came and held the horse.
"Have you got a coin about you of some kind, Arlingford?" asked the
naval officer. "If you have, chuck it to the young fellow."
Owen did not hear this remark.
"Here, boy," cried the elder, putting half-a-crown into Owen's hand;
"just take this."
"No, thank you, sir," answered Owen, returning the money. "I am happy
to have been of any service. I did not think of a reward."
"Take it, stupid boy," said Reginald.
Owen persisted in declining, and turned away.
"A proud young jackanapes! What is he thinking about?" exclaimed
Reginald, who spoke loud enough for Owen to hear him.
"Here, I say, boy, don't be a fool, take this," and Reginald pitched the
coin at Owen, who, however, not stopping to pick it up, walked on. As
may be supposed, a scramble immediately ensued among the mob to obtain
possession of the coin, until, shoving at each other, three or four
rolled over against the horse. The effect of this was to make the
animal set off at a rate which it required the utmost exertions of the
driver to control. Indeed the cab nearly met with another accident
before it had proceeded many yards.
Owen had remarked a coronet on the cab. "Can those possibly be young
noblemen who made use of such coarse language, and who appear to be so
utterly devoid of right feeling?" he thought to himself. "I hope that I
shall not meet them again; but I think I should remember them,
especially the youngest, who had on a naval uniform. His being a sailor
will account for the activity he showed in unbuckling the harness."
Owen gave an account of the incident to Mrs Kezia.
"That is like you, Owen," she said. "Do what is right without hope of
fee or reward. I am afraid that the old man does not give you much of
either. What salary are you getting?"
"I have received nothing as yet; nor has Mr Fluke promised me a
salary," answered Owen. "I conclude that he considers it sufficient to
afford me board and lodging, and to teach me the business. I should not
think of asking for more."
"And you'll not get it until you do," observed Mrs Kezia. "I'll see
about that one of these days."
"Pray do not speak to Mr Fluke," exclaimed Owen, earnestly; "I am
perfectly content, and I am sure that I ought not to think of asking for
a salary. If he is good enough to pay for the clothes you have ordered,
I shall be more than satisfied, even were I to work even harder than I
do."
Mr Fluke, however, grumbled, and looked quite angry at Owen, when he
appeared in his new suit. Mrs Kezia had been insisting, in her usual
style, that the boy required new shoes, a hat, and underclothing.
"You'll be the ruin of me with your extravagant notions, Kezia,"
exclaimed Mr Fluke; "you'll spoil the boy. How can you ever expect him
to learn economy?"
He, notwithstanding, gave Mrs Kezia the sum she demanded.
Had it not been for her, Owen would probably have had to wear his
clothes into rags. Mr Fluke would certainly not have remarked their
tattered condition.
Notwithstanding all Kezia's care, however, Owen's health did not mend.
Months went by, he was kept as hard at work as ever.
Kezia expostulated. At last Mr Fluke agreed to give him some work in
the open air.
"I'll send him on board the ships in the river; that will do him good
perhaps."
The very next day Owen was despatched with a letter on business to
Captain Aggett of the ship "Druid," then discharging cargo in the
Thames.
Owen had seen Captain Aggett at the office; he was a tall, fine-looking
man, with a pleasant expression of countenance. He recognised Owen as
he came on board.
"Stop and have some dinner, my boy," he said; "the steward is just going
to bring it in."
Owen, being very hungry, was glad to accept the invitation, and Captain
Aggett himself declared that he could not write an answer until he had
had something to eat. Possibly he said this that Owen might have a
legitimate excuse for his delay. The captain had a good deal of
conversation with Owen, with whom he seemed highly pleased. He took him
over the ship, and showed him his nautical instruments, which Owen said
he had never seen, although he had read about them, and knew their use.
"What! have you learned navigation?" asked Captain Aggett.
"I am acquainted with the principles, and could very soon learn it, I
believe, if I had a book especially explaining the subject," answered
Owen.
Captain Aggett handed one to him, telling him to take it home and study
it.
"Is this the first time you have been on board a ship?" asked the
captain.
"Yes, sir; for since I came to London I never have had time, having
always had work to do in the office," answered Owen.
"How long have you been there?" asked the captain, who remarked that
Owen had a cough, and looked very pale.
"Rather more than a year, sir."
"Not a very healthy life for a lad accustomed to the country. A sea
trip would do you good. Would you like to make one?"
"Very much, if Mr Fluke would allow me," answered Owen. "I should not
wish to do anything of which he might not approve."
"I'll see about it, youngster," said Captain Aggett.
Although Owen was sent on several trips of the same description to other
vessels, he was still kept too constantly at work in the office to
benefit much by them.
He naturally told Kezia of his visit to Captain Aggett, and of the
invitation he had received.
"Although I should be very sorry to have you go away from here, Owen, I
am sure that the captain is right. It is just what you want; a sea
voyage would set you up, and make a man of you, and if you remain in the
office you'll grow into just such another withered thing as the old man.
I'll speak to him, and tell him, if he wants to keep you alive and
well, he must let you take a voyage with the good captain. I have heard
of him, and Mr Fluke has a great respect for him, I know."
Mrs Kezia did not fail to introduce the subject in her usual manner.
Mr Fluke would not hear of it.
"Nonsense," he answered, "the boy does very well; he can walk to and
from the office, and eats his meals."
"He does not eat one-half what he used to do," answered Kezia; "he is
growing paler and paler every day. He has a nasty cough, and you will
have him in his grave before long if you don't take care."
"Pooh! pooh!" answered Mr Fluke. "Boys don't die so easily as that."
He turned away his head to avoid Kezia's glance.
She did not let the matter drop, however. A fortnight or more had
passed by. Mr Fluke had missed one of his favourite tulips, which grew
in a flower-pot.
On inquiring for it of Joseph: "It's all safe," was the answer, "I'm
trying an experiment with it."
Whenever Mr Fluke asked about the tulip, he always received the same
reply: "We shall see how it gets on in a few days." At length one
afternoon when he came home, somewhat to his surprise, Kezia appeared in
the garden.
"What about that tulip, Joseph, which master was asking for?" she said.
"Should you like to see it, sir?" asked Joseph.
"Of course I should," answered Mr Fluke, expecting to see the flower
greatly improved in size and beauty.
"I told Joseph to put it in the tool-house, just to see how it looks
after being shut up in the dark without air," said Kezia in her most
determined manner.
"In the tool-house!" exclaimed Mr Fluke. "What in the world made you
put it there, Joseph?"
"Kezia bade me, sir, and you know I dare not disobey her," answered
Joseph, demurely.
"And I bade him just for the reason I said," exclaimed Kezia.
"Let us see it by all means," cried Mr Fluke, hastening in the
direction of the tool-house, which was in a corner of the garden on the
north side, out of sight.
Kezia stalked on before her master and her husband. She entered first,
and came out with a flower-pot in her hand. The tulip, instead of
having gained in size and beauty, looked withered, and its once proud
head hung down, its colours sadly faded.
"There," she exclaimed; "that's just like our Owen. You shut him up in
your dark office, and expect him to grow up strong and healthy, with the
same bright complexion he had when he came to us. Some natures will
stand it, but his, it is very certain, cannot. Maybe, if we put this
tulip in the sun and give it air and water, it will recover; and so may
he, if you allow him to enjoy the fresh breezes, and the pure air of the
sea. Otherwise, as I have told you, all your kindness and the good
intentions you talk of to advance him in life will come to nothing. I
repeat it, Mr Fluke, Owen Hartley will be in his grave before another
year is out if he has to breathe for eight hours or more every day the
close atmosphere of Kelson, Fluke and Company's office."
Mr Fluke walked away without answering Kezia, and kept pacing up and
down the garden in a state of perturbation very unusual for him.
Owen had been kept at the office, and did not get home until late. He
observed that Mr Fluke was watching him narrowly.
"Yes, you do look somewhat pale," said the old gentleman; "I see it now.
How do you feel, boy?"
"Very well, sir," answered Owen, naturally enough; "only a little tired
now and then. It is my own fault, I suppose, that I do not sleep so
soundly as I used to do, and do not care much about my food."
The next day, although without any preconcerted arrangement, Captain
Aggett called at Mr Fluke's office, and desired to see him on private
business.
The captain had been a regular customer for many years, and Mr Fluke
held him in great respect.
"I have taken a fancy to that boy of yours, a relative I understand. I
have observed how ill he looks, very different from what he was when I
saw him first on my last voyage. If you will let me take him a trip I
will bring him back safe and sound, the dangers of the sea excepted, and
better able by far than he is now to attend to your interests."
Mr Fluke declined to give a positive answer. He would see if the boy
could be spared; he was very useful in the office, and it would be
difficult to get any one to supply his place.
"I will come for a reply to-morrow," said Captain Aggett, as he took his
departure.
"Well, are you going to let our Owen make a voyage?" asked Kezia when
Mr Fluke came home. "There are plenty of captains who would be ready
to take the boy. He would be able to make himself as useful to them as
he is to you, and you would be at no cost."
Mr Fluke, however, only gave Kezia the same reply he had to Captain
Aggett.
"I tell you, before long he'll leave the place vacant whether you like
it or not," observed Kezia in a firm voice, looking sternly at her
master.
"You must have your own way, Kezia," answered Mr Fluke, turning his
head aside to avoid her gaze, as a dog does when scolded. "If the boy
wishes to go, he may go, but I'll not send him off against his will."
Owen was called in and told of Captain Aggett's offer. He acknowledged
that he wished to accept it.
"You have been very kind to me, sir," he said, "and I do not wish to
leave you, but I should like to make a voyage and see something of the
world, and I feel as if it would set me up. When I come back I hope to
be of more use to you than ever."
So it was settled. Mr Fluke never drew back when he had once made a
promise, and next day, when Captain Aggett called, Mr Fluke told him
that he might take Owen, and that he himself would defray any expenses
to which he might be put on the boy's account.
Owen wrote immediately to his friends at Fenside.
John, who replied, expressed their anxiety for the dangers to which he
would be exposed on a long voyage, but if it was considered to be for
his good, they would not urge him to remain on shore, and would pray
earnestly that he might be preserved from all the perils of the deep.
Kezia desired him to ascertain from Captain Aggett what articles were
required for his outfit; and immediately on obtaining a list, set to
work to prepare all that lay within her province.