HOW BILLY CONDUCTS THE BUSINESS--HOW CAPTAIN BREAM OVERCOMES THE
SISTERS, AND HOW JESSIE SEAWARD SEES MYSTERY IN EVERYTHING.
"I wonder," said Billy to himself on reaching the street as he looked
down at the legs of his trousers, "I wonder if they're any shorter.
Yes, they don't seem to be quite so far down on the shoes as when I left
Yarmouth. I _must_ have grow'd an inch or two since I came up to
Lun'on!"
Under this gratifying impression the fisher-boy drew himself up to his
full height, his little chest swelling with new sensations, and his
whole body rolling along with a nautical swagger that drew on him the
admiration of some, the contempt of others, and caused several street
boys to ask "if his mother knowed 'e was hout," and other insolent
questions.
But Billy cared for none of these things. The provincial boy was quite
equal to the occasion, though his return "chaff" smacked much of salt
water.
Arrived at the poverty-stricken street in which the Misses Seaward
dwelt, Billy mounted the narrow staircase and knocked at the door. It
was opened by Liffie Lee, who had remained on that day to accomplish
some extra work.
"Is your missis at home, my dear?"
"There ain't no missis here, an' I ain't _your_ dear," was the prompt
reply.
Billy was taken aback. He had not anticipated so ready and caustic a
response, in one so small and child-like.
"Come now--no offence meant," he said, "but you're not a-goin' to deny
that the Miss Seawards does live here."
"I ain't a-goin' to deny nothink," replied Liffie, a little softened by
the boy's apologetic tone, "only when I'm expected to give a civil
answer, I expects a civil question."
"That's all fair an' aboveboard. Now, will you tell the Miss Seawards I
wants to see 'em, on a matter of business--of importance."
Another minute and Billy stood in the presence of the ladies he wished
to see. Prepared beforehand to like them, his affections were at once
fixed for ever by the first glimpse of their kindly faces.
With a matter-of-fact gravity, that greatly amused the sisters--though
they carefully concealed their feelings--little Billy stated his
business, and, in so doing, threw his auditors into a flutter of hope
and gratitude, surprise and perplexity.
"But what is the name of the house that sends you?" asked Miss Jessie.
"That I am not allowed for to tell," said the boy-of-business, firmly.
"A mercantile house in the city, I suppose," said Kate.
"What sort o' house it may be is more than a sea-farin' man like me
knows, an' of course it's in the city. You wouldn't expect a
business-house to be in the country, would you? all I know is that they
want mitts made--hundreds of 'em--no end o' mitts--an' they hain't got
hands enough to make 'em, so they sent me to ask if you'll undertake to
help in the work, or if they're to git some one else to do it. Now,
will you, or will you not? that's the pint."
"Of course we shall be only too happy," answered Jessie, "though the
application is strange. How did you come to know that we were in want
of--that is, who sent you to us?"
"The house sent me, as I said afore, Miss."
"Yes, but how did the house come to know of our existence, and how is it
that a house of any sort should send a sailor-boy as its messenger?"
"How the house came to know of you is more than I can say. They don't
tell me all the outs-an'-ins of their affairs, you know. As to a house
sendin' a sailor-boy as its messenger--did you ever hear of the great
house of Messrs. Hewett and Company, what supplies Billin'sgate with
fish?"
"I'm not sure--well, yes, I think I have heard of that house," said
Kate, "though we are not in the way of hearing much about the commercial
houses of London."
"Well," continued Billy, "that house sends hundreds of fisher-boys as
messengers. It sends 'em to the deep-sea with a message to the fish, an
the message is--`come out o' the water you skulkin' critters, an' be
sent up to Billin'sgate to be sold an' eaten!' The fish don't come
willin'ly, I'm bound for to say that, but we make 'em come all the same,
willin' or not, for we've wonderful powers o' persuasion. So you see,
houses _do_ send fisher-boys as messengers sometimes; now, what am I to
say to the partikler house as sends _me_? will you go in for mitts? you
may take comforters if you prefer it, or helmets."
"What do you mean by helmets, my boy?"
"Worsted ones, of course. Things made to kiver up a man's head and
neck and come down to his shoulders, with a hole in front just big
enough to let his eyes, nose, and cheek-bones come through. With a
sou'-wester on top, and a comforter round the neck, they're not so bad
in a stiff nor'-wester in Janoowairy. Now's your chance, ladies, now,
or niver!"
There was something so ludicrous in the manly tone and decided manner of
the smooth-faced little creature before them, that the sisters burst
into a hearty fit of laughter.
"Forgive us, dear boy, but the idea of our being asked in this sudden
way to make innumerable mitts and comforters and worsted helmets seems
so odd that we can't help laughing. What is your name? That is not a
secret, I hope?"
"By no means. My name is Billy Bright. If you're very partikler, you
may call me Willum."
"I prefer Billy," said Kate. "Now, Billy, it is near our dinner hour.
Will you stay and dine with us? If you do, you'll meet such a nice
man--such a big man too--and somewhat in your own line of life; a
sea-captain. We expect him every--"
"No, thank 'ee, Miss," interrupted the boy, rising abruptly. "I sees
more than enough o' big sea-captings when I'm afloat. Besides, I've got
more business on hand, so I'll bid 'ee good-day."
Pulling his forelock he left the room.
"The ladies has undertook some work for me, my dear," said Billy to
Liffie Lee, as he stood at the door buttoning up his little coat, "so
p'raps I may see you again."
"It won't break my 'art if you don't," replied Liffie; "no, nor yet
yours."
"Speak for yourself, young 'ooman. You don't know nothing about _my_
'art."
As he spoke, a heavy foot was heard at the bottom of the stair.
"That's our lodger," said Liffie; "no foot but his can bang the stair or
make it creak like that."
"Well, I'm off," cried Billy, descending two steps at a time.
Half-way down he encountered what seemed to him a giant with a chest on
his shoulder. It was the darkest part of the stair where they met.
"Look out ahead! Hard a starboard!" growled Captain Bream, who seemed
to be heavily weighted.
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Billy, as he brushed past, bounded into the street,
and swaggered away.
"What boy was that, Liffie?" asked the captain, letting down the chest
he carried with a shock that caused the frail tenement to quiver from
cellar to roof-tree.
"I don't know, sir."
"He must be a sailor-boy, from his answer," rejoined the captain. "Open
the door o' my cabin, lass, and I'll carry it right in. It's somewhat
heavy."
He lifted the chest, which was within an eighth of an inch of being too
large to pass through the little door-way, and put it in a corner, after
which he entered the parlour, and sat down in a solid wooden chair which
he had supplied to the establishment for his own special use.
"You see," he had said, on the day when he introduced it, "I've come to
grief so often in the matter of chairs that I've become chary as to how
I use 'em. If all the chairs that I've had go crash under me was put
together they'd furnish a good-sized house. Look before you leap is a
well-known proverb, but, look before you sit down, has become a more
familiar experience to me through life. It's an awkward thing bein' so
heavy, and I hope you'll never know what it is, ladies."
Judging from their appearance just then there did not seem much prospect
of that!
"Now," continued the captain, rubbing his hands and looking benignantly
at Jessie, "I have settled the matter at last; fairly said good-bye to
old Ocean, an' fixed to cast anchor for good on the land."
"Have you indeed, captain?" said Jessie, "I should fancy that you must
feel rather sorry to bid farewell to so old a friend."
"That's true, Miss Seaward. An old and good friend the sea has been to
me, thank God. But I'm gettin' too old myself to be much of a friend to
_it_, so I've fixed to say good-bye. And the question is, Am I to stop
on here, or am I to look out for another lodgin'? You see I've been a
good many weeks with you now, an' you've had a fair taste of me, so to
speak. I know I'm a rough sort o' fish for the like o' you to have to
do with, and, like some o' the hermit crabs, rather too big for my
shell, so if you find me awkward or uncomfortable don't hesitate to say
so. I won't be surprised, though I confess I should be sorry to leave
you."
"Well, Captain Bream," said Kate, who was generally the speaker when
delicate, difficult or unpleasant subjects had to be dealt with, "since
you have been so candid with us we will be equally candid with you.
When you first came to us, I confess that we were much alarmed; you
seemed--so very big," (the captain tried to shrink a little--without
success--and smiled in a deprecating manner), "and our rooms and
furniture seemed so very small and delicate, so to speak; and then your
voice was so fearfully deep and gruff," (the captain cleared his throat
softly--in B natural of the bass clef--and smiled again), "that we were
almost frightened to receive you; but, now that we have had experience
of you, we are quite willing that you should continue with us--on one
condition, however."
"And that is?" asked the captain anxiously.
"That you pay us a lower rent."
"A--a higher rent you mean, I suppose?"
"No; I mean a lower."
Captain Bream's benign visage became grave and elongated.
"You see, captain," continued Kate, flushing a little, "when you first
came, we tried--excuse me--to get rid of you, to shake you off, and we
almost doubled the rent of our little room, hoping that--"
"Quite right, quite right," interrupted the captain, "and according to
strict justice, for ain't I almost double the size of or'nary men, an'
don't I give more than double the trouble?"
"Not so," returned Kate, firmly, "you don't give half the trouble that
other men do."
"Excuse me, Miss Kate," said the captain with a twinkle in his grey eye,
"you told me I was your first lodger, so how can you know how much
trouble other men would give?"
"No matter," persisted Kate, a little confused, "you don't give _half_
the trouble that other lodgers would have given if we had had them."
"Ah! h'm--well," returned the captain softly, in the profoundest
possible bass, "looking at the matter in that light, perhaps you are not
far wrong. But, go on."
"Well, I have only to add," continued Kate, "that you have been so kind
to us, and so considerate, and have given us so little--so _very_ little
trouble, that it will give us both great pleasure to have you continue
to lodge with us, if you agree to the reduction of the rent."
"Very well," said Captain Bream, pulling out an immense gold
chronometer--the gift, in days gone by, of a band of highly grateful and
appreciative passengers. "I've got business in the city an hour hence.
We shall have dinner first. Two hours afterwards I will return with a
cab and take away my boxes. That will give you plenty of time to make
out your little bill and--"
"What _do_ you mean, captain?" interrupted Kate, in much surprise.
"I mean, dear ladies, that you and I entered into an agreement to rent
your little cabin for so much. Now it has been my rule in life to stick
to agreements, and I mean to stick to this one or throw up my situation.
Besides, I'm not goin' to submit to have the half of my rent cut off.
I can't stand it. Like old Shylock, I mean to stick to the letter of
the bond. Now, _is_ it `to be, or not to be?' as Hamlet said to the
ass."
"I was not aware that Hamlet said that to an ass," remarked Jessie, with
a little laugh.
"Oh yes! he did," returned the captain quite confidently; "he said it to
himself, you know, an' that was the same thing. But what about the
agreement?"
"Well, since you are so determined, I suppose we must give in," said
Kate.
"We can't resist you, captain," said Jessie, "but there is one thing
that we must positively insist on, namely, that you come and sit in this
room of an evening. I suppose you read or write a great deal, for we
see your light burning very late sometimes, and as you have no fire you
must often feel very cold."
"Cold!" shouted the captain, with a laugh that caused the very
window-frames to vibrate. "My dear ladies, I'm never cold. Got so used
to it, I suppose, that it has no power over me. Why, when a man o' my
size gets heated right through, it takes three or four hours to cool him
even a little. Besides, if it do come a very sharp frost, I've got a
bear-skin coat that our ship-carpenter made for me one voyage in the
arctic regions. It is hot enough inside almost to cook you. Did I ever
show it you? I'll fetch it."
Captain Bream rose with such energy that he unintentionally spurned his
chair--his own solid peculiar chair--and caused it to pirouette on one
leg before tumbling backward with a crash. Next minute he returned
enveloped from head to foot in what might be termed a white-bear ulster,
with an enormous hood at the back of his neck.
Accustomed as the sisters were to their lodger's bulk, they were not
prepared for the marvellous increase caused by the monstrous hairy
garment.
"It would puzzle the cold to get at me through this, wouldn't it?" said
its owner, surveying it with complacency. "It was my own invention
too--at least the carpenter and I concocted it between us.
"The sleeves are closed up at the ends, you see, and a thumb attached to
each, so as to make sleeves and mittens all of a piece, with a slit near
the wrists to let you shove your hands out when you want to use them
naked, an' a flap to cover the slit and keep the wind out when you don't
want to shove out your hands. Then the hood, you see, is large and
easy, so that it can be pulled well for'ard--so--and this broad band
behind it unbuttons and comes round in front of the face and buttons,
so--to keep all snug when you lay down to sleep."
"Wonderful!" exclaimed the sisters as the captain stood before them like
a great pillar of white fur, with nothing of him visible save the eyes
and feet.
"But that's not all," continued the ancient mariner, turning his back to
the sisters. "You see that great flap hooked up behind?"
"Yes," answered Jessie and Kate in the same breath.
"Well, then, notice what I do."
He sat down on the floor, and unhooking the flap, drew it round in
front, where he re-hooked it to another row of eyes in such a manner
that it completely covered his feet and lower limbs.
"There, you see, I'm in a regular fur-bag now, all ready for a night in
the snow."
By way of illustration he extended himself on the floor at full-length,
and, by reason of that length being so great, and the room so narrow,
his feet went into the window-recess, while his head lay near the door.
All ignorant of this illustration of arctic life going on, Liffie Lee,
intent on dinner purposes, opened the door and drove it violently
against the captain's head.
"Avast there!" he shouted, rising promptly. "Come in, lass. Come in--
no damage done."
"Oh! sir," exclaimed the horrified Liffie, "I ax your parding."
"Don't put yourself about my girl. I'm used to collisions, and it's not
in the power o' your small carcass to do me damage."
Disrobing himself as he spoke, the lodger retired to his cabin to lay
aside his curious garment, and Liffie, assisted by Kate, took advantage
of his absence to spread their little board.
"I never saw such a man," said Kate in a low voice as she bustled about.
"Saw!" exclaimed Jessie under her breath, "I never even conceived of
such a man. He is so violent in his actions that I constantly feel as
if I should be run over and killed. It feels like living in the same
house with a runaway mail coach. How fortunate that his spirit is so
gentle and kind!"
A tremendous crash at that moment caused Jessie to stop with a gasp.
"Hallo! fetch a swab--a dish-clout or somethin', Liffie," came
thundering from the captain's room. "Don't be alarmed, ladies, it's
only the wash-hand basin. Knocked it over in hangin' up the coat.
Nothin' smashed. It's a tin basin, you know. Look alive, lass, else
the water'll git down below, for the caulkin' of these planks ain't much
to boast of, an' you'll have the green-grocer up in a towering rage!"
A few minutes later this curious trio sat down to dinner, and the
captain, according to a custom established from the commencement of his
sojourn, asked a blessing on the meat in few words, but with a deeply
reverent manner, his great hands being clasped before him, and with his
eyes shut like a little child.
"Well now, before beginning," he said, looking up, "let me understand;
is this matter of the lodging and rent settled?"
"Yes, it is settled," answered Jessie. "We've got used to you, captain,
and should be very, very sorry to lose you."
"Come, that's all right. Let's shake hands on it over the leg of
mutton."
He extended his long arm over the small table, and spread out his
enormous palm in front of Jessie Seaward. With an amused laugh she laid
her little hand in it--to grasp it was out of the question--and the
mighty palm closed for a moment with an affectionate squeeze. The same
ceremony having been gone through with Kate, he proceeded to carve.
And what a difference between the dinners that once graced--perhaps we
should say disgraced--that board, and those that smoked upon it now!
Then, tea and toast, with sometimes an egg, and occasionally a bit of
bacon, were the light viands; now, beef, mutton, peas, greens, potatoes,
and other things, constituted the heavy fare.
The sisters had already begun to get stronger on it. The captain would
have got stronger, no doubt, had that been possible.
And what a satisfactory thing it was to watch Captain Bream at his
meals! There was something grand--absolutely majestic--in his action.
Being a profoundly modest and unselfish man it was not possible to
associate the idea of gluttony with him, though he possessed the
digestion of an ostrich, and the appetite of a shark. There was nothing
hurried, or eager, or careless, in his mode of eating. His motions were
rather slow than otherwise; his proceedings deliberate. He would even
at times check a tempting morsel on its way to his mouth that he might
more thoroughly understand and appreciate something that Jessie or Kate
chanced to be telling him. Yet with all that, he compelled you, while
looking at him, to whisper to yourself--"how he does shovel it in!"
"I declare to you, Kate," said Jessie, on one occasion after the captain
had left the room, "I saw him take one bite to-day which ought to have
choked him, but it didn't. He stuck his fork into a piece of mutton as
big--oh! I'm afraid to say how big; it really seemed to me the size of
your hand, and he piled quite a little mound of green peas on it, with a
great mass of broken fragments and gravy, and put it all into his mouth
at once, though that mouth was already pretty well-filled with the
larger half of an enormous potato. I thought he would never get it in,
but something you said caused him to laugh at the time, and before the
laugh was over the bite had disappeared. Before it was properly
swallowed he was helping himself to another slice from the leg of
mutton! I declare to you, Kate, that many a time I have dined
altogether on less than that one bite!"
Poor Miss Seaward had stated a simple truth in regard to herself, but
that truth was founded on want of food, not on want of appetite or
capacity for more.
At first it had been arranged that an account-book should be kept, and
that the captain should pay for one-third of the food that was consumed
in the house, but he had consumed so much, and the sisters so
ridiculously little, that he refused to fall in with such an arrangement
and insisted on paying for all the food consumed, with the exception of
the cup of coffee, cream, and sugar, with which he regaled himself every
day after dinner. Of course they had had a battle over this matter
also, but the captain had carried the day, as he usually did, for he had
marvellous powers of suasion. He had indeed so argued, and talked, and
bamboozled the meek sisters--sometimes seriously, oftener jocularly,--
that they had almost been brought to the belief that somehow or other
their lodger was only doing what was just! After all, they were not so
far wrong, for all that they ate of the captain's provisions amounted to
a mere drop in the bucket, while the intellectual food with which they
plied their lodger in return, and the wealth of sympathy with which they
surrounded him, was far beyond the power of gold to purchase.
"No," said Captain Bream, sipping his coffee and shaking his head, when
Jessie again pressed on him the propriety of sitting in the parlour of
an evening, "I can't do it. The fact is that I'm studying--though you
may think I'm rather an oldish student--and I can't study except when
I'm alone."
"What are you studying?" asked Kate, and then, observing that the
captain looked slightly confused, and feeling that she ought not to have
put the question, she quickly changed the subject by adding--"for
whatever it is, you will be quite free from interruption here. My
sister and I often sit for hours without talking, and--"
"No, no, dear Miss Kate. Say no more," interrupted the captain; "I must
stick to my own cabin except at meal-times, and, of course, when we want
a bit of a talk together. There is one thing, however, that I would
like. I know you have family worship with your little lass. May I join
you?"
"Oh! it would give us such pleasure," exclaimed Kate, eagerly, "if you
would come and conduct worship for us."
The captain protested that he would not do that, but finally gave in,
and afterwards acted the part of chaplain in the family.
"By the way," he said, when about to quit the parlour, "I've brought
another chest to the house."
"Yes," said Kate, "we felt the shock when you put it down."
"Well, it is a bit heavy. I've fairly given up my connection with my
last ship, and as the new commander took possession this morning I was
obliged to bring away my last box. Now, I don't want Liffie to move it
about when putting things to rights, or to meddle with it in any way.
When we want to sweep behind or under it I'll shift it myself. But,
after all, you're safe not to move it, for the three of you together
couldn't if you were to try ever so much. So, good-day. I'll be back
to tea."
"Kate," said Jessie, after he was gone, "I am quite sure that there is
some mystery connected with that box."
"Of course you are," replied Kate, with a laugh, "you always see mystery
in things that you don't understand! You saw mystery too, didn't you,
in the late sitting up and studies of Captain Bream."
"Indeed I did, and I am quite sure that there _is_ some mystery about
that, too."
"Just so, and I have no doubt that you observe mystery of some sort,"
added Kate, with a humorous glance, "in the order for worsted work that
we have just received."
"Undoubtedly I do," replied Jessie, with decision. "The whole affair is
mysterious--ridiculously so. In truth it seems to me that we are
surrounded by mystery."
"Well, well, sister mine," said the matter-of-fact Kate, going to a
small cupboard and producing an ample work-box that served for both,
"whatever mysteries may surround us, it is our business to fulfil our
engagements, so we will at once begin our knitting of cuffs and
comforters for the fishermen of the North Sea."