When Captain Wopper parted from his young friend, he proceeded along the
Strand in an unusually grave mood, shaking his head to such a degree, as
he reflected on the precocious wickedness of the rising generation, that
a very ragged and pert specimen of that generation, observing his
condition, gravely informed him that there was an hospital for
incurables in London, which took in patients with palsy and St. Wituses'
dance werry cheap.
This recalled him from the depths of sorrowful meditation, and induced
him to hail a cab, in which he drove to the docks, claimed his chest--a
solid, seamanlike structure, reminding one of the wooden walls of Old
England--and returned with it to the head of the lane leading to Grubb's
Court. Dismissing the cab, he looked round for a porter, but as no
porter appeared, the Captain, having been accustomed through life to
help himself, and being, as we have said, remarkably strong, shouldered
the nautical chest, and bore it to the top of Mrs Roby's staircase.
Here he encountered, and almost tumbled over, Gillie White, who saluted
him with--
"Hallo! ship aho-o-oy! starboard hard! breakers ahead! Why, Capp'n,
you've all but run into me!"
"Why don't you show a light then," retorted the Captain, "or blow your
steam-whistle, in such a dark hole? What's that you've got in your
arms?"
"The baby," replied Gillie.
"What baby?" demanded the Captain.
"_Our_ baby, of course," returned the imp, in a tone that implied the
non-existence of any other baby worth mentioning. "I brought it up to
show it to the sick 'ooman next door but one to Mrs Roby's cabin.
She's very sick, she is, an' took a great longing to see our baby, cos
she thinks it's like what her son was w'en _he_ was a baby. If he ever
was, he don't look much like one now, for he's six-feet nothin' in his
socks, an' drinks like a fish, if he don't do nothin' wuss. Good-night
Capp'n. Baby'll ketch cold if I keep on jawin' here. Mind your weather
eye, and port your helm when you reach the landin'. If you'll take the
advice of a young salt, you'll clew up your mainsail an' dowse some of
your top-hamper--ah! I thought so!"
This last remark, delivered with a broad grin of delight, had reference
to the fact that the Captain had run the corner of his chest against the
low roof of the passage with a degree of violence that shook the whole
tenement.
Holding his breath in hopeful anticipation, and reckless of the baby's
"ketching cold," the small boy listened for more. Nor was he
disappointed. In his progress along the passage Captain Wopper, despite
careful steering, ran violently foul of several angles and beams, each
of which mishaps sent a quiver through the old house, and a thrill to
the heart of Gillie White. In his earnest desire to steer clear of the
sick woman's door, the luckless Captain came into collision with the
opposite wall, and anxiety on this point causing him to forget the step
on which he had "struck" once before, he struck it again, and was
precipitated, chest and all, against Mrs Roby's door, which,
fortunately for itself, burst open, and let the avalanche of chest and
man descend upon Mrs Roby's floor.
Knowing that the climax was now reached, the imp descended the stair
filled with a sort of serene ecstasy, while Captain Wopper gathered
himself up and sat down on his nautical portmanteau.
"I tell 'ee what it is, old 'ooman," said he, stroking his beard, "the
channel into this port is about the wust I ever had the ill-luck to
navigate. I hope I didn't frighten 'ee?"
"Oh, dear no!" replied Mrs Roby, with a smile.
To say truth, the old woman seemed less alarmed than might have been
expected. Probably the noise of the Captain's approach, and previous
experience, had prepared her for some startling visitation, for she was
quite calm, and a humorous twinkle in her eyes seemed to indicate the
presence of a spirit somewhat resembling that which actuated Gillie
White.
"Well, that's all right," said the Captain, rising and pushing up the
trap-door that led to his private berth in the new lodging; "and now,
old lady, havin' come to an anchor, I must get this chest sent aloft as
fast as I can, seein' that I've to clean myself an' rig out for a dinner
at eight o'clock at the west end."
"Dear me," said Mrs Roby, in surprise, "you must have got among people
of quality."
"It won't be easy to hoist it up," said the Captain, ignoring the
remark, and eyeing the chest and trap-door in the roof alternately.
Just then a heavy step was heard in the passage; and a young man of
large and powerful frame, with a gentle as well as gentlemanly
demeanour, appeared at the door.
"Come in--come in," said Mrs Roby, with a bright look, "this is only my
new lodger, a friend of dear Wil--"
"Why, bless you, old 'ooman," interrupted Captain Wopper, "_he_ knows me
well enough. I went to him this morning and got Mrs Stoutley's
address. Come in, Dr Lawrence. I may claim to act the host here now
in a small way, perhaps, and bid visitors welcome--eh! Mrs Roby?"
"Surely, surely," replied the old woman.
"Thank you both for the welcome," said the visitor with a pleasant
smile, as he shook hands with Mrs Roby. "I thought I recognised your
voice, Captain Wopper, as you passed Mrs Leven's door, and came out to
see how you and my old friend here get on together."
"Is she any better to-night, sir?" asked Mrs Roby, anxiously.
Lawrence shook his head sadly and said she was no better, and that he
feared she had little chance of getting better while her dissipated son
dwelt under the same roof with her. "It is breaking her heart," he
added, "and, besides that, the nature of her disease is such that
recovery is impossible unless she is fed on the most generous diet.
This of course she cannot have, because she has no means of her own.
Her son gambles away nearly all his small salary, and she refuses to go
to an hospital lest her absence should be the removal of the last
restraining link between him and destruction. It is a very sad case--
very."
Captain Wopper was struck with this reference to gambling coming so soon
after his recent conversation on that subject, and asked if there were
no charitable societies or charitable people in London who would help in
a case so miserable.
Yes, there were plenty of charitable institutions, Lawrence told him,
but he feared that this woman had no special claim on any of them, and
her refusal to go to an hospital would tell against her. There were
also, he said, plenty of charitable people, but all of those he happened
to be acquainted with had been appealed to by him so often that he felt
ashamed to try them again. He had already given away as much of his own
slender means as he could well spare, so that he saw no way out of the
difficulty; but he had faith in Providential supervision of human
affairs, and he believed that a way would yet be opened up.
"You're right, sir--right," said Captain Wopper, with emphasis, while he
looked earnestly into the face of the young doctor. "This world wasn't
made to be kicked about like a foot-ball by chance, or circumstances, or
anything of the sort. Look 'ee here, sir; it has bin putt into my heart
to feel charitable leanings, and a good bit o' cash has bin putt into my
pocket, so that, bein' a lone sort o' man, I don't have much use for it.
That's on the one hand. On the other hand, here are you, sir, the son
of a friend o' my chum Willum Stout, with great need of aid from
charitable people, an' here we two are met together--both ready for
action. Now, I call that a Providential arrangement, so please putt me
down as one of your charitable friends. It's little I can boast of in
that way as yet but it's not too late to begin. I've long arrears to
pull up, so I'll give you that to begin with. It'll help to relieve
Mrs Leven in the meantime."
As he spoke, the Captain drew a black pocketbook from his breast pocket
and, taking a piece of paper therefrom, placed it in the doctor's hands.
"This is a fifty-pound note!" said Lawrence, in surprise.
"Well, what then?" returned the Captain. "You didn't expect a
thousand-pound note, did you?"
"Not quite that," replied Lawrence, laughing, "but I thought that
perhaps you had made a mistake."
"Ah! you judged from appearances, young man. Don't you git into the way
of doin' that, else you'll be for ever sailin' on the wrong tack. Take
my advice, an' never look as if you thought a man gave you more than he
could afford. Nobody never does that."
"Far be it from me," returned Lawrence, "to throw cold water on generous
impulses. I accept your gift with thanks, and will gladly put you on my
list. If you should find hereafter that I pump you rather hard, please
to remember that you gave me encouragement to do so."
"Pump away, sir. When you've pumped dry, I'll tell you!"
"Well," said Lawrence, rising, "I'll go at once and bring your
liberality into play; and, since you have done me so good a turn,
remember that you may command my services, if they can ever be of any
use to you."
The Captain cast a glance at the trap-door and the chest.
"Well," said he, "I can scarcely ask you to do it professionally, but if
you'd lend a hand to get this Noah's ark o' mine on to the upper deck,
I'd--"
"Come along," cried Lawrence, jumping up with a laugh, and seizing one
end of the "ark."
Captain Wopper grasped the other end, and, between them, with much
puffing, pushing, and squeezing, they thrust the box through the trap to
the upper regions, whither the Captain followed it by means of the same
gymnastic feat that he performed on his first ascent. Thrusting his
head down, he invited the doctor to "come aloft," which the doctor did
in the same undignified fashion, for his gentle manner and spirit had
not debarred him from the practice and enjoyment of manly exercises.
"It's a snug berth, you see," said the Captain, stumbling among the
dusty lumber, and knocking his head against the beams, "wants cleaning
up, tho', and puttin' to rights a bit, but I'll soon manage that; and
when I git the dirt and cobwebs cleared away, glass putt in the
port-holes, and a whitewash on the roof and walls, it'll be a cabin fit
for an admiral. See what a splendid view of the river! Just suited to
a seafarin' man."
"Capital!" cried Lawrence, going down on his knees to obtain the view
referred to. "Rather low in the roof, however, don't you think?"
"Low? not at all!" exclaimed the Captain. "It's nothin' to what I've
been used to on the coastin' trade off Californy. Why, I've had to live
in cabins so small that a tall man couldn't keep his back straight when
he was sittin' on the lockers; but we didn't _sit_ much in 'em; we was
chiefly used to go into 'em to lie down. This is a palace to such
cabins."
The doctor expressed satisfaction at finding that his new "charitable
contributor" took such enlarged views of a pigeon-hole, and, promising
to pay him another visit when the "cabin" should have been put to
rights, said good-bye, and went to relieve the wants of the sick woman.
As the captain accompanied him along the passage, they heard the voice
and step of poor Mrs Leven's dissipated son, as he came stumbling and
singing up the stair.
He was a stout good-looking youth, and cast a half impudent half
supercilious look at Captain Wopper on approaching. He also bestowed a
nod of careless recognition on Dr Lawrence.
Thinking it better to be out of the way, the Captain said good-bye again
to his friend, and returned to the cabin, where he expressed to Mrs
Roby the opinion that, "that young feller Leven was goin' to the dogs at
railway speed."
Thereafter he went "aloft," and, as he expressed it, "rigged himself
out," in a spruce blue coat with brass buttons; blue vest and trousers
to match; a white dicky with a collar attached and imitation carbuncle
studs down the front. To these he added a black silk neckerchief tied
in a true sailor's knot but with the ends separated and carefully tucked
away under his vest to prevent their interfering with the effulgence of
the carbuncle studs; a pair of light shoes with a superabundance of new
tie; a green silk handkerchief, to be carried in his hat, for the
purpose of mopping his forehead when warm, and a red silk ditto to be
carried in his pocket for the benefit of his nose. In addition to the
studs, Captain Wopper wore, as ornaments, a solid gold ring, the rude
workmanship of which induced the belief that he must have made it
himself, and a large gold watch, with a gold chain in the form of a
cable, and a rough gold nugget attached to it in place of a seal or key.
We class the watch among simple ornaments because, although it went--
very demonstratively too, with a loud self-asserting tick--its going was
irregular and uncertain. Sometimes it went too slow without apparent
cause. At other times it went too fast without provocation. Frequently
it struck altogether, and only consented to resume work after a good
deal of gentle and persuasive threatening to wind it the wrong way. It
had chronic internal complaints, too, which produced sundry ominous
clicks and sounds at certain periods of the day. These passed off,
however, towards evening. Occasionally such sounds rushed as it were
into a sudden whirr and series of convulsions, ending in a dead stop,
which was an unmistakeable intimation to the Captain that something
vital had given way; that the watch had gone into open mutiny, and
nothing short of a visit to the watchmaker could restore it to life and
duty.
"I'm off now," said the Captain, descending when he was fully "rigged."
"What about the door-key, mother?--you've no objection to my calling you
mother, have you?"
"None whatever, Captain," replied Mrs Roby, with a pleasant smile, "an
old friend of William may call me whatever he pleases--short," she added
after momentary pause, "of swearin'."
"Trust me, I'll stop short of that. You see, old lady, I never know'd a
mother, and I should like to try to feel what it's like to have one.
It's true I'm not just a lad, but you are old enough to be my mother for
all that, so I'll make the experiment. But what about the key of the
door, mother? I can't expect you to let me in, you know."
"Just lock it, and take the key away with you," said Mrs Roby.
"But what if a fire should break out?" said the Captain, with a look of
indecision.
"I'm not afraid of fire. We've got a splendid brigade and plenty of
fire-escapes, and a good kick from a fireman would open my door without
a key."
"Mother, you're a trump! I'll lock you in and leave you with an easy
mind--"
He stopped abruptly, and Mrs Roby asked what was the matter.
"Well, it's what I said about an easy mind that threw me all aback,"
replied the Captain, "for to tell 'ee the truth, I haven't got an easy
mind."
"Not done anything wicked, I hope?" said Mrs Roby, anxiously.
"No, no; nothin' o' that sort; but there _is_ somethin' lyin' heavy on
my mind, and I don't see why I shouldn't make a confidant o' you, bein'
my mother, d'ee see; and, besides, it consarns Willum."
The old woman looked eagerly at her lodger as he knitted his brows in
perplexity and smoothed down his forelock.
"Here's where it is," he continued, drawing his chair closer to that of
Mrs Roby; "when Willum made me his exikooter, so to speak, he said to
me, `Wopper,' says he, `I'm not one o' them fellers that holds on to his
cash till he dies with it in his pocket. I've got neither wife nor
chick, as you know, an' so, wot I means to do is to give the bulk of it
to them that I love while I'm alive--d'ee see?' `I do, Willum,' says I.
`Well then,' says he, `besides them little matters that I axed you to
do for me, I want you to take partikler notice of two people. One is
the man as saved my life w'en I was a youngster, or, if he's dead, take
notice of his child'n. The other is that sweet young creeter, Emma
Gray, who has done the correspondence with me so long for my poor
brother. You keep a sharp look-out an' find out how these two are off
for money. If Emma's rich, of course it's no use to give her what she
don't need, and I'll give the most of what I've had the good fortune to
dig up here to old Mr Lawrence, or his family, for my brother's widow,
bein' rich, don't need it. If both Emma and Lawrence are rich, why
then, just let me know, and I'll try to hit on some other plan to make
away with it, for you know well enough I couldn't use it all upon myself
without going into wicked extravagance, and my dear old Mrs Roby
wouldn't know what to do with so much cash if I sent it to her. Now,
you promise to do this for me?' says he. `Willum,' says I, `I do.'"
"Now, mother," continued the Captain, "what troubles me is this, that
instead o' findin' Miss Emma rich, and Mr Lawrence poor, or _wice
wersa_, or findin' 'em both rich, I finds 'em both poor. That's where
my difficulty lies."
Mrs Roby offered a prompt solution of this difficulty by suggesting
that William should divide the money between them.
"That would do all well enough," returned the Captain, "if there were no
under-currents drivin' the ship out of her true course. But you see,
mother, I find that the late Mr Stoutley's family is also poor--at
least in difficulties--although they live in great style, and _seem_ to
be rich; and from what I heard the other day, I know that the son is
given to gamblin', and the mother seems to be extravagant, and both of
'em are ready enough to sponge on Miss Emma, who is quite willin'--far
too willin'--to be sponged upon, so that whatever Willum gave to her
would be just thrown away. Now the question is," continued the Captain,
looking seriously at the kettle with the defiant spout, "what am I to
advise Willum to do?"
"Advise him," replied Mrs Roby, promptly, "to give _all_ the money to
Dr Lawrence, and get Dr Lawrence to marry Miss Gray, and so they'll
both get the whole of it."
A beaming smile crossed the Captain's visage.
"Not a bad notion, mother; but what if Dr Lawrence, after gettin' the
money, didn't want to marry Miss Gray?"
"Get him to marry her first and give the money afterwards," returned
Mrs Roby.
"Ay, that might do," replied the Captain, nodding slowly, "only it may
be that a man without means may hesitate about marryin' a girl without
means, especially if he didn't want _her_, and she didn't want _him_. I
don't quite see how to get over all these difficulties."
"There's only one way of getting over them," said Mrs Roby, "and that
is, by bringin' the young people together, and givin' 'em a chance to
fall in love."
"True, true, mother, but, so far as I know, Dr Lawrence don't know the
family. We couldn't," said the Captain, looking round the room,
dubiously, "ask 'em to take a quiet cup of tea here with us--eh? You
might ask Dr Lawrence, as your medical man, and I might ask Miss Emma,
as an old friend of her uncle, quite in an off-hand way, you know, as if
by chance. They'd never see through the dodge, and would fall in love
at once, perhaps--eh?"
Captain Wopper said all this in a dubious tone, looking at the defiant
kettle the while, as if propitiating its favourable reception of the
idea, but it continued defiant, and hissed uncompromisingly, while its
mistress laughed outright.
"You're not much of a match-maker, I see," she said, on recovering
composure. "No, Captain, it wouldn't do to ask 'em here to tea."
"Well, well," said the Captain, rising, "we'll let match-makin' alone
for the present. It's like tryin' to beat to wind'ard against a
cyclone. The best way is to square the yards, furl the sails, and scud
under bare poles till it's over. It's blowin' too hard just now for me
to make headway, so I'll wear ship and scud."
In pursuance of this resolve, Captain Wopper put on his wide-awake,
locked up his mother, and went off to dine at the "west end."