"Will you please tell Captain Oliphant that Mr Roger Ingleton is on
board, with Mr Armstrong, and would like to see him?"
The man gave a look up and down and went straight to the expansive
person before mentioned.
The visitors could see the gentleman start a little as the steward
delivered his message, and pitch his cigar away as, with a serious face,
he walked in their direction.
"My poor dear boy," said he, taking Roger's hand, "this _is_ good of
you--very good. How glad I am to see you! How is your dear mamma?"
"Mother is very well. Have you had a good voyage? Oh, this is Mr
Armstrong."
Mr Armstrong all this while had been staring through his eye-glass at
his co-trustee in no very amiable way, and now replied to that
gentleman's greeting with a somewhat stiff "How do you do?" "Where on
earth did I see you before, my gentleman?" said he to himself, and
having put the riddle, he promptly gave it up.
Mr Oliphant displayed very little interest in his fellow-guardian, but
said to Roger--
"The children will be so delighted to see you. We have talked so much
of you. They will be here directly; they are just putting together
their things in the cabin. But now tell me all about yourself, my boy."
Roger did not feel equal to this comprehensive task, and said, "I
suppose you'll like to go straight on to Maxfield, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, yes! It may be a day before we get our luggage clear, so we will
come to your hotel to-night and go on to-morrow. Why, my boy, what a
cough you have! Ah! here comes Rosalind."
The figure which approached the group was that of a young lady about
seventeen years of age, tall and slim, clad in a loose cloak which
floated about her like a cloud, and considerably encumbered with sundry
shawls and bags on one arm, a restive dog in another, and a hat which
refused to remain on her head in the wind.
Mr Armstrong was perhaps no great connoisseur of female charms, but he
thought, as he slowly tried to make up his mind whether he should
venture to assist her, that he had rarely seen a more interesting
picture.
Her face was flushed with the glow of youth and health. An artist might
have found fault with it here and there, but to the tutor it seemed
completely beautiful. The fine poise of her head upon the dainty neck,
the classic cut of mouth and nostril, the large dark liquid eyes, the
snowy forehead, the short clustering wind-tossed hair, the frank
countenance, the refinement in every gesture--all combined to astonish
the good man into admiration. Yet, with all his admiration, he felt a
little afraid of this radiant apparition. Consequently, by the time he
had half decided to advance to her succour, his ward had stepped forward
and forestalled him.
"Let me help you, Cousin Rosalind," said Roger.
She turned on him a look half surprise, half pleasure, and then allowing
him to take cloaks, bags, dog, and all, said--
"Really, papa, you must go and help down in the cabin. It's an awful
chaos, and Tom and Jill are making it ten times worse. Do go." And she
sat down with a gesture of despair on one of the benches, and proceeded
to adjust her unruly hat. While doing this she looked up at Roger, who
stood meekly before her with her belongings.
"Thanks! Don't mind holding them; put them down anywhere, Roger, and
do, there's a dear boy, go and help father and the others in that
horrid, horrid cabin."
Roger, more flurried and docile than he had felt himself for a long
while, dropped the baggage, and thrusting the dog into Armstrong's
hands, flew off to obey the behests of his new cousin.
The young lady now looked up in charming bewilderment at the tutor, who
could not fail to read the question in her eyes, and felt called upon to
answer it.
"May I introduce myself?" said he. "I am Frank Armstrong, Roger's
tutor."
"I'm so glad," said she with a little laugh. "I'd imagined you a horrid
elderly person with a white cravat and tortoise-shell spectacles. It
_is_ such a relief!"
And she sighed at the mere recollection of her forebodings.
"There's no saying what we may become in time," said Mr Armstrong.
"I suppose," said she, eyeing him curiously once more, "you're the other
trustee, or whatever it's called? I hope you and father will get on
well. I can't see what use either of you can be. Roger looks as if he
could take care of himself. Are you awfully fond of him?"
"I am rather," said the tutor in a voice which quite satisfied his
hearer.
"Heigho!" said she presently, picking up the dog and stroking its ears.
"I'm glad this dreadful voyage is over. Mr Armstrong, what do they all
think about all of us coming to Maxfield? If I lived there, I should
hate it."
"Mrs Ingleton, I know, is very pleased."
"Yes, but you men aren't. There'll be fearful rows, I know. I wish
we'd stayed behind in India. It's hateful to be stuck down where you
aren't wanted, for every one to vote you a nuisance!"
"I can hardly imagine any one voting _you_ a nuisance," said Mr
Armstrong, half-frightened at his own temerity.
She glanced up with a little threatening of a blaze in her eyes.
"Don't!" said she. "That's the sort of thing the silly young gentlemen
say on board ship. I don't like it."
The poor tutor winced as much under this rebuff as if he had been just
detected in a plot to run away with his fair companion; and having
nothing to say in extenuation of his crime, he relapsed into silence.
Miss Oliphant, apparently unaware of the effect of her little protest,
stroked her dog again and said--
"Are you an artist?"
"No; are you?"
"I want to be. I'd give anything to get out of going to Maxfield, and
have a room here in town near the galleries. It will be awful waste of
time in that dull place."
"Perhaps your father--" began the tutor; but she took him up half
angrily.
"My father intends us to stay at Maxfield. In fact, you may as well
know it at once, and let Roger know it too. We're as poor as church-
mice, and can't afford to do anything else. Oh, how I wish we had
stopped where we were!" And her voice actually trembled as she said the
words.
It was an uncomfortable position for Mr Armstrong. Once again his
mother-wit failed him, and he watched the little hand as it moved up and
down the dog's back in silence.
"I tell you this," continued the young lady, "because tutors are
generally poor, and you'll understand it. I wish papa understood it
half as well. I do believe he really enjoys the prospect of going and
landing himself and all of us at that place."
"You forget that it is by the desire and invitation of the old Squire,"
said the tutor.
"Father might easily have declined. He ought to have. He wasn't like
you, fond of Roger. He doesn't care--at least I fancy he doesn't--much
about Roger at all. Oh, I wish I could earn enough to pay for every
bite every one of us eats!"
To the tutor's immense relief, at this point Captain Oliphant
reappeared, followed by Roger with a boy and little girl.
The boy was some years the junior of the heir of Maxfield, a rotund,
matter-of-fact, jovial-looking lad, sturdy in body, easy in temper, and
perhaps by no means brilliant in intellect. The turmoil of debarkation
failed to ruffle him, and the information given him in sundry quarters
that he was the _fons et origo_ of all the confusion in the cabin failed
to impress him. Everything that befell Tom Oliphant came in the day's
work, and would probably vanish with the night's sleep. Meanwhile it
was the duty of every one, himself included, to be jolly. So he
accepted his father's chidings and Roger's greetings in equally good
part; agreed with every word the former said, and gave in his allegiance
to the latter with one and the same smile, and thought to himself how
jolly to be in England at last, and perhaps some day to see the Oxford
and Cambridge boat-race.
The little maid who tripped at his side was perhaps ten or eleven--an
odd blending of the sister's beauty and alertness with the brother's
vigorous contentment. A prophet, versed in such matters, would have
predicted that ten years hence Miss "Jill" Oliphant might seriously
interfere with the shape of her elder sister's nose. But as no prophets
were present, only a fogey like Mr Armstrong and an inexperienced boy
like Roger, no one concerned themselves about the future, but voted the
little lady of ten a winsome child.
"Well, thanks for all _your_ help," said Tom to his elder sister. "I
don't know what we should have done without her. Eh, Roger?"
"Upon my word, with _you_ in charge down there," retorted the young
lady, "I wouldn't have been safe in that awful place a minute longer. I
wonder you haven't packed up Jill in one of the trunks."
"Oh, Cousin Roger took care of me," said Miss Jill demurely.
"I hope Armstrong did the same to you, Rosalind," said Roger. "Here,
Tom; this is my tutor, Frank Armstrong--a brick. Here, Jill; say how do
you do to Mr Armstrong."
Jill horrified Mr Armstrong by putting up her face to be kissed.
Indeed the poor gentleman as he shook the glass out of his eye and gazed
down at this forward young person in consternation, presented so
pitiable a spectacle, that Rosalind, Roger, and Tom all began to laugh.
"She won't bite," said Tom reassuringly.
Mr Armstrong, thus encouraged, took off his hat, and stooping down,
kissed the child on the brow, much to that little lady's satisfaction.
This important operation performed, Captain Oliphant expressed concern
for Roger's cough, and proposed that his ward should take the girls and
himself to the hotel, while no doubt Mr Armstrong would not mind
remaining to help Tom with the luggage. By which excellent arrangement
the party succeeded at last in getting clear of the "Oriana."
The tutor had his hands full most of that morning Tom Oliphant's idea of
looking after the luggage was to put his hands in his pockets and
whistle pleasantly up and down the upper deck; nor was it till Mr
Armstrong took him bodily below, and made him point out one by one the
family properties (among which, by the way, he included several articles
belonging to other owners), that he could be reduced to business at all.
Then for half an hour he worked hard; at the end of which time he turned
to his companion with a friendly grin.
"Thanks awfully, Mr Armstrong. I say, I wonder if you'll be my tutor
as well as Frank's? I heard father say something about it! Wouldn't it
be stunning?"
Mr Armstrong gave a qualified assent.
"I'm not a bit clever, you know, like Rosalind, but I'd like to have a
tutor awfully. I say, haven't we done enough with these blessed boxes?
They'll be all right now. Should we have time to see Christy's
Minstrels on our way to the hotel, do you think? I'd like it
frightfully."
"My dear boy," said Mr Armstrong, "if we are to get all the things
properly cleared and labelled and sent off to Maxfield, we shall have no
time for anything else. If the way you stick to your lessons is
anything like the way you stick to this task, I don't envy your tutor."
This covert threat at once reduced Tom to a sense of discipline, and he
made a gallant effort to secure Mr Armstrong's good opinion.
The tutor was right. It was well on in the afternoon when they had the
baggage finally disposed of, and were free to follow to the hotel.
Here they found, instead of the party they expected, a hurriedly
scrawled line from Roger.
"Dear Armstrong,--
"Oliphant has taken it into his head to go down to Maxfield at once by
the two train. So we are starting. I'm sorry he can't wait, so as all
to go together. If you are back in time to come by the evening train,
do come. If not, first train in the morning.
"Yours ever,
"R.I."
It was too late to get a train that day; so Mr Armstrong, much
disgusted, had to make up his mind to remain. Tom, on the contrary, was
delighted, and proposed twenty different plans for spending the evening,
which finally resolved themselves into the coveted visit to Christy's
Minstrels.
The tutor, in no very festive humour, allowed himself to be overborne by
the eagerness of his young companion, and found himself in due time
jammed into a seat in a very hot hall, listening to the very
miscellaneous performance of the coloured gentlemen who "never perform
out of London."
The tutor, who had some ideas of his own on the subject of music,
listened very patiently, sometimes pleased, sometimes distressed, and
always conscious of the enthusiastic delight of his companion, whose
unaffected comments formed to him the most amusing part of the
entertainment.
"Isn't that, stunning?"
"Thanks awfully, Mr Armstrong, for bringing me."
"Hooray! Bones again!"
"I say, I'm looking forward to the break-down; ain't you?" and so on.
Whatever Mr Armstrong's anticipations may have been as to the rapture
of the coming "break-down," he contained himself admirably, and with his
glass inquiringly stuck in his eye, listened attentively to all that
went on, and occasionally speculated as to how Miss Rosalind Oliphant
was enjoying her visit to Maxfield.
The programme was half over, and Tom was repairing the ravages of nature
with a bun, when Mr Armstrong became suddenly aware of a person in the
row but one in front looking round fixedly in his direction.
To judge by the close-cropped, erect hair and stubbly chin of this
somewhat disreputable-looking individual, he was a foreigner; and when
presently, catching the tutor's eye, he began to indulge in pantomimic
gestures of recognition, it was safe to guess he was a Frenchman.
"Who's that chap nodding to you?" said Tom with his mouth full. "Is he
tipsy?"
"He lays himself open to the suspicion," said Mr Armstrong slowly. "At
any rate, as I vote we go put and get some fresh air, he will have to
find some one else to make faces at. Come along."
Tom did not at all like risking his seat, and particularly charged the
lady next to him to preserve it from invasion at the risk of her life.
Then wondering a little at Mr Armstrong's impatience to reach the fresh
air, he followed him out.
The Frenchman witnessed the proceeding with some little disappointment,
and sat craning his neck in the direction in which they had gone for
some minutes. Then, as if moved by a similar yearning for fresh air, he
too left his seat and went out.
The band was beginning to play as he did so, and most of the loiterers
were crowding back for the second part.
"You go in; I'll come directly," said Mr Armstrong to the boy.
Tom needed no second invitation, and a moment later had forgotten
everything in the delightful prelude to the "break-down." He did not
even observe that Mr Armstrong had not returned to his seat.
"Well, Gustav," said that gentleman in French as the foreigner
approached him, where he waited in the outer lobby.
"_Eh bien, man cher_," replied the other, "'ow 'appy I am to see you. I
can speak ze Englise foine, _n'est ce pas_?"
"What are you doing in London?"
"I am vaiter, _garcon_ at ze private hotel. 'Zey give me foods and
drinks and one black coat, but not no vage. _Oh, mon ami_, it is ver'
ver' 'ard."
"And the old man?"
"_Ah, helas_! he is ver' ver' ill. He vill die next week. _Moi_, I can
not to him go; and Marie, she write me she must leave Paris this day to
her duties. It is sad for the poor old _pere_ to die with not von
friend to 'old 'is 'and. Ah! if ze petite Francoise yet lived, _ma
pauvre enfant_, she would stay and--"
"Stop!" said the tutor imperatively. "Is he still in the old place?"
"_Helas_, non! you make ze joke, you. Ve are ver' ver' poor, and 'ave
no homes. _Mon pere_, he is to the hopital. Thank 'eaven, they 'ave
zere give 'im ze bed to die."
"Which hospital is he at?" said the tutor.
"De Saint Luc."
"I will see him."
The Frenchman gave a little hysterical laugh; then, with tears in his
eyes, he seized the hand of the Englishman and wrung it rapturously.
"_Oh, mon ami, mon cher ami_!" cried he, "'eaven will bless you. I am
'appy that you say that. You vill see 'im? Yes? You vill 'old 'is
'and ven he do die? He sall have one friend to kiss his poor _front_?
Oh, I am content; I am gay."
How long he would have gone on thus it is hard to say. Mr Armstrong
cut short the scene rather abruptly.
"There, there!" said he. "Good-bye, Gustav. I shall go very soon, and
will come and see you when I return." And he went back to the
performance.
"You've missed it!" said Tom, as he dropped into his seat. "It was the
finest `break-down' you ever saw! That one next but one to Bones kept
it up best. We couldn't get an encore out of them. Never mind; perhaps
they'll have another to finish up. There's lot's more in the
programme."
Mr Armstrong watched it all with the same critical interest as before,
but his mind was far away. It wandered to the foreign city, to the
gaunt pauper hospital there, to a little low bed where lay an old dying
friendless man, tossing and moaning for the laggard death to give him
rest. He saw nothing of what went on before him; he felt none of the
merry boy's nudges at his side; he even forgot Roger and Maxfield.
The performance was over at last.
"Well, that _was_ a jolly spree! I wish it was coming all over again,"
chirped the boy. "Oh, thank you awfully, Mr Armstrong, for bringing
me. Did you like it too? That last break-down wasn't up to the other,
but I'm glad you've seen one of them, at any rate."
As they crowded out, Mr Armstrong was surprised and a little vexed to
see Gustav still hanging about the lobby waiting for him. He dropped
behind the boy for a moment and beckoned him.
"Well, Gustav?" said he impatiently.
"Ah, _mon ami_," said the Frenchman, putting a little bunch of early
violets into the tutor's hands, "vill you give 'im zese from me? 'Tis
all I can send. But he will love zem for the sake of me and ze little
Francoise. Adieu, adieu, _mon cher ami_."
It took not a minute; but in that time Tom had wandered serenely on,
never dreaming that his protector was not close at his heels. Nor did
he discover his mistake till he found himself half-way up Piccadilly,
enlarging to a stranger at his side on the excellence of the evening's
performance. Then he looked round and missed his companion. The
pavement was crowded with wayfarers of all sorts, some pressing one way,
some another. Among them all the boy could not discover the stalwart
form of Mr Armstrong. He pushed back to the hall, but he was not
there. He followed one or two figures that looked like his; but they
were strangers all. Then he returned up the street at a run, hoping to
overtake him; but in vain.
He knew nothing of London; he did not even know the name of the hotel;
he had no money in his pocket.
He was, in short, lost.
As for Mr Armstrong, not seeing his charge at the door, he had started
to run in the direction of the hotel, which was the opposite direction
to that taken by Tom. Seeing no sign of the prodigal, he too returned
to the hall, just after Tom had started a second time on the contrary
tack; and so for an hour these two played hide and seek; sometimes
almost within reach of one another; at others, with the whole length of
the street between them.
At last the crowd on the pavement thinned, and the tutor, sorely
chagrined, started off to the hotel, on the chance of the boy having
turned up there. No Tom was there. Tom, in fact, was at that moment
debating somewhere about a mile and a half away whether he should not
try to make his way to the "Oriana" at the Docks, and remain quietly
there till claimed. What a joke it would all be when he _was_ found!
What an adventure for his first night in London!
It was not very easy even for Tom Oliphant to derive much amusement from
these philosophical reflections, and he looked about him rather dismally
for some one of whom to inquire his way.
A seedy-looking person was standing under a lamppost hard by, trying to
light a cigarette in the wind. Tom decided to tackle him.
"Please can you tell me the way to the Docks where the P and O steamers
come in?" said he.
The man let drop his match and stared at the boy.
"Vy," said he with an odd shrug, "that is some long walks from here.
_Mais, comment_. Vas you not at ze Christy Minstrel to-night viz a nice
gentleman?"
"Rather!" said the boy. "Were you there? I say, wasn't it a clipping
turn out? I did like it, especially the break-down. I say, I'm lost.
The fellow who was looking after me has lost me."
"Oh, you 'ave lost 'im. I am 'appy you to find. You sall not valk to
ze Dock, no. I sall give you sleeps at ze hotel, and to-morrow you sall
find zat dear gentleman. Come wiz me."
"Oh, but you know, he'll be looking for me; besides, I've got no tin.
Father forgot to leave me any. I'd better go to the Docks, I say."
"You sall not. Zey will be all shut fast zere. No, my dear friend, you
sall come sleep at my hotel, and you sall have nothings to pay. It will
be all right. I would die for to help ze friend of my friend."
"Is Mr Armstrong a friend of yours?" asked the boy. "I thought you
were only cheeking him that time in the Hall. Oh, all right, if you
know him. Thanks awfully."
Gustav, as delighted as a cat who has found her kitten, led the boy off
jubilantly to his third-rate hotel off the Strand, taking the
precaution, as he passed, to leave word at the Hall that if a gentleman
called who had lost a boy, he should be told where he would find him.
He smuggled Tom up to his own garret, and made him royally welcome with
three-quarters of his scanty supper and the whole of his narrow bed,
sleeping himself on the floor cheerfully for the sake of the _cher ami_
who had that night promised to go to Paris to hold the hand of his dying
father.
About three in the morning there was a loud ringing of the bell and a
sound of steps and voices on the stairs, and presently Mr Armstrong
entered the room.
Gustav sprang up with his finger on his lips, pointing to the sleeping
boy.
"Oh, _mon ami_," whispered he, "'ow 'appy I am you 'ave found 'im. But
I keep him ver' safe. I love to do it, for you are ver' good to me and
the _pauvre pere_. He sall rest here till to-day, vile you (helas! that
I have no two beds to offer you), you sall take one in ze hotel, and at
morning we sall all be 'appy together."
Mr Armstrong grimly accepted this proposal, and took a room for the
night at Gustav's hotel.
The next morning, scarcely waiting to take breakfast or bid another
adieu to his grateful friend, he hurried the genial Tom, who had enjoyed
himself extremely, to the station, and carried him down by express train
to Maxfield.