With difficulty cordelling his barge around the Regent's Park, Bill
Bootle, the canal boatman, was making slow speed. This because the fog
had thickened unexpectedly; and it was no easy matter to guide his old
horse along the tow-path.
He would not have attempted it; but that he was next morning due in the
Paddington Basin; where, at an early hour, the owner of the boat would
be expecting him.
Bill was only skipper of the craft; the crew consisting of his wife, and
a brace of young Bootles, one of them still at the breast. Mrs B,
wearing her husband's dreadnought to protect her from the raw air of the
night, stood by the tiller, while Bootle himself had charge of the
tow-horse.
He had passed through the Park Road Bridge, and was groping his way
beyond, when a drift of the fog thicker than common came curling along
the canal, compelling him to make stop.
The boat was still under the bridge; and Mrs Bootle, feeling that the
motion was suspended, had ceased working the spokes. Just at this
moment, both she and her husband heard a shuffling sound upon the bridge
above them; which was quick followed by a "swish," as of some bulky
object descending through the air!
There was also a voice; but so smothered as to be almost inaudible!
Before either had time to think of it, a mass came splashing down upon
the water, between the boat and the horse!
It had struck the tow-rope; and with such force, that the old machiner,
tired after a long spell of pulling, was almost dragged backwards into
the canal.
And frighted by the sudden jerk, it was as much as Bootle could do to
prevent him rushing forward, and going in head foremost.
The difficulty in tranquillising the horse lay in the fact that the
tow-rope was still kept taut by some one who appeared to be struggling
upon it, and whose smothered cries could be heard coming up from the
disturbed surface of the water!
The voice was not so choked, but that Bootle could tell it to be that of
a woman!
The boatman's chivalrous instincts were at once aroused; and, dropping
the rein, he ran back a bit, and then sprang with a plunge into the
canal.
It was so dark he could see nothing; but the half-stifled cries served
to guide him; and swimming towards the tow-rope, he discovered the
object of his search!
It was a woman struggling in the water, and still upon its surface.
She was prevented from sinking by her cloak, which had swished over on
one side of the tow-rope as her body fell upon the other.
Moreover she had caught the rope in her hands, and was holding on to it
with the tenacious grasp of one who dreads drowning.
The boatman could not see her face, which appeared to be buried within
the folds of a cloak!
He did not stay to look for a face. Enough for him that there was a
body in danger of being drowned; and throwing one arm around it, with
the other he commenced "swarming" along the tow-rope in the direction of
the barge!
Mrs B, who had long since forsaken the tiller, and was now "for'ard,"
helped him and his burden aboard; which, examined by the light of the
canal-boat lantern, proved to be a very beautiful lady, dressed in rich
silk, with a gold watch in her waistbelt, and a diamond ring sparkling
upon her fingers!
Mrs Bootle observed that beside this last, there was another ring of
plain appearance, but in her eyes of equal significance. It was the
hoop emblematic of Hymen.
These things were only discovered after the saturated cloak had been
removed from the shoulders of the half-drowned woman; and who, but for
it and the tow-rope, would have been drowned altogether.
"What is this?" asked the lady, gasping for breath, and looking wildly
around. "What is it, Dick? Where are you? Where am I? O God! It is
water! I'm wet all over. It has nearly suffocated me! Who are you,
sir? And you, woman; if you are a woman? Why did you throw me in? Is
it the river, or the Serpentine, or where?"
"'Taint no river, mistress," said Mrs Bootle, a little nettled by the
doubt thrown upon her womanhood, "nor the Sarpentine neyther. It's the
Regent Canal. But who ha' pitched you into it, ye ought best to know
that yourself."
"The Regent's Canal?"
"Yes, missus," said Bootle, taking the title from his wife; "it's there
you've had your duckin'--just by the Park Road here. You come switching
over the bridge. Can't you tell who chucked you over? Or did ye do it
yerself?"
The eyes of the rescued woman assumed a wandering expression, as if her
thoughts were straying back to some past scene.
Then all at once a change came over her countenance, like one awaking
from a horrid dream, and not altogether comprehending the reality!
For a moment she remained as if considering; and then all became clear
to her.
"You have saved me from drowning," she said, leaning forward, and
grasping the boatman by the wrist.
"Well, yes; I reckon you'd a-goed to the bottom, but for me, an' the old
tow-rope."
"By the Park Road bridge, you say?"
"It be right over ye--the boat's still under it." Another second or two
spent in reflection, and the lady again said:
"Can I trust you to keep this a secret?" Bootle looked at his wife, and
Mrs B back at her husband, both inquiringly.
"I have reasons for asking this favour," continued the lady, in a
trembling tone, which was due not altogether to the ducking. "It's no
use telling you what they are--not now. In time I may make them known
to you. Say you will keep it a secret?"
Again Bootle looked interrogatively at his wife; and again Mrs B gave
back the glance.
But this time an answer was secured in the affirmative, through an act
done by the rescued lady.
Drawing the diamond ring off her finger, and taking the gold watch from
behind her waistbelt, she handed the first to the boatman's wife, and
the second to the boatman himself--telling both to keep them as tokens
of gratitude for the saving of her life!
The gifts appeared sufficiently valuable, not only to cover the service
done, but that requested. With such glittering bribes in hand, it would
have been a strange boatman, and still stranger boatman's wife, who
would have refused to keep a secret, which could scarce compromise them.
"One last request," said the lady. "Let me stay aboard your boat till
you can land me in Lisson Grove. You are going that way?"
"We are, missus."
"You will then call a cab for me from the stand. There's one in the
Grove Road, close up."
"I'll do that for your ladyship in welcome."
"Enough, sir. I hope some day to have an opportunity of showing you I
can be grateful."
Bootle, still balancing the watch in his hand, thought she had shown
this already.
Some of the service still remained to be done, and should be done
quickly. Leaving the lady with his wife, Bootle sprang back upon the
tow-path, and once more taking his old horse by the head, trained on
towards the Grove Road.
Nearing its bridge, which terminates the long subterraneous passage to
Edgware Road, he again brought his barge to a stop, and went in search
of a cab.
He soon came back with a four-wheeler; conducted the dripping lady into
it; said good-night to her; and then returned to his craft.
But not till she he had rescued had taken note of his name, the number
of his boat, and every particular that might be necessary to the finding
him again!
She did not tell him whither she was herself bound.
She only communicated this to the cabman; who was directed to drive her
to a hotel, not far from the Haymarket.
She was now sober enough to know, not only where she was, but whither
she was going!