Two days after the events narrated in the last chapter, rather late in
the evening, Dr George Lawrence called at "the cabin" in Grubb's Court,
and found the Captain taking what he called a quiet pipe.
"I have been visiting poor Mrs Leven," he said to Mrs Roby, sitting
down beside her, "and I fear she is a good deal worse to-night. That
kind little woman, Netta White, has agreed to sit by her. I'm sorry
that I shall be obliged to leave her at such a critical stage of her
illness, but I am obliged to go abroad for some time."
"Goin' abroad, sir!" exclaimed Mrs Roby in surprise, for the Captain
had not yet told her that Lawrence was to be of the party, although he
had mentioned about himself and Gillie White.
"Yes, I'm going with Mrs Stoutley's family for some weeks to
Switzerland."
Captain Wopper felt that his share in the arrangements was in danger of
being found out. He therefore boldly took the lead.
"Ah! _I_ know all about that, sir."
"Indeed?" said Lawrence.
"Yes, I dined the other day with Mrs Stoutley; she asked _me_ also to
be of the party, and I'm going."
Lawrence again exclaimed, "Indeed!" with increasing surprise, and added,
"Well, now, that _is_ a strange coincidence."
"Well, d'ee know," said the Captain, in an argumentative tone, "it don't
seem to me much of a coincidence. You know she had to git some one to
go with her son, and why not you, sir, as well as any of the other young
sawbones in London? If she hadn't got you she'd have got another, and
that would have been a coincidence to _him_, d'ee see? Then, as to me,
it wasn't unnatural that she should take a fancy to the man that nussed
her dyin' husband, an' was chum to her brother-in-law; so, you see,
that's how it came about and I'm very glad to find, sir, that we are to
sail in company for a short time."
Lawrence returned this compliment heartily, and was about to make some
further remark, when little Netta White rushed into the room with a
frightened look and pale cheeks, exclaiming, "Oh, Dr Lawrence, sir,
she's _very_ ill. I think she's dying."
Without waiting for a reply, the child ran out of the room followed by
Lawrence and Mrs Roby, who was assisted by the Captain--for she walked
with great difficulty even when aided by her crutches. In a few seconds
they stood beside Mrs Leven's bed. It was a lowly bed, with scant and
threadbare coverings, and she who lay on it was of a lowly spirit--one
who for many years had laid her head on the bosom of Jesus, and had
found Him, through a long course of poverty and mental distress, "a very
present help in trouble."
"I fear that I'm very ill," she said, faintly.
"No doubt you feel rather low just now," said the doctor, "but that is
very much owing to your having lived so long on insufficient diet. I
will give you something, however, which will soon pull you up a bit.
Come, cheer up. Don't let your spirits get so low."
"Yes," she murmured, "I _am_ brought very low, but the Lord will lift me
up. He is my strength and my Redeemer."
She clasped her hands with difficulty, and shut her eyes.
A silence followed, during which Captain Wopper drew Lawrence into the
passage.
"D'you think she is near her end, doctor?"
"She looks very like it," replied the doctor. "There is a possibility
that she might recover if the right medicine could be found, namely,
ease of mind; but her dissipated son has robbed her of that, and is the
only one who can give it back to her--if indeed he has the power left
now. She is dying of what is unprofessionally styled a broken heart.
It is unfortunate that her son is not with her at present."
"Does no one know where to find him?" asked the Captain.
"I fear not," replied the doctor.
"Please, sir, I think _I_ know," said a subdued voice behind them.
It was that of Gillie White, who had drawn near very silently, being
overawed by the sad scene in the sick-room.
"Do you, my lad? then get along as fast as you can and show me the way,"
said the Captain, buttoning up his pilot-coat. "I'll bring him here
before long, doctor, if he's to be found."
In a few minutes the Captain and Gillie were at the head of the lane,
where the former hailed a passing cab, bade the boy jump in, and
followed him.
"Now, my lad, give the address," said the Captain.
"The Strand," said the boy, promptly.
"What number, sir?" asked the cabman, looking at the Captain.
"Right on till I stop you," said Gillie, with the air of a
commander-in-chief--whom in some faint manner he now resembled, for he
was in livery, being clothed in blue tights and brass buttons.
In a short time Gillie gave the order to pull up, and they got out in
front of a brilliantly-lighted and open door with a lamp above it, on
which was written the word Billiards. The Captain observed that it was
the same door as that at which he had parted from Lewis Stoutley some
days before.
Dismissing the cab and entering, they quickly found themselves in a
large and well-lighted billiard-room, which was crowded with men of all
ages and aspects, some of whom played, others looked on and betted, a
good many drank brandy and water, and nearly all smoked. It was a
bright scene of dissipation, where many young men, deceiving themselves
with the idea that they went merely to practise or to enjoy a noble game
of skill, were taking their first steps on the road to ruin.
The Captain, closely attended by Gillie, moved slowly through the room,
looking anxiously for Fred Leven. For some time they failed to find
him. At last a loud curse, uttered in the midst of a knot of
on-lookers, attracted their attention. It was followed by a general
laugh, as a young man, whose dishevelled hair and flushed face showed
that he had been drinking hard, burst from among them and staggered
towards the door.
"Never mind, Fred," shouted a voice that seemed familiar to the Captain,
"you'll win it back from me next time."
Ere the youth had passed, the Captain stepped forward and laid his hand
on his arm.
Fred uttered a savage growl, and drew back his clenched hand as if to
strike, but Captain Wopper's size and calm look of decision induced him
to hold his hand.
"What d'you mean by interrupting me?" he demanded, sternly.
"My lad," said the Captain, in a low, solemn voice, "your mother is
dying, come with me. You've no time to lose."
The youth's face turned ashy pale, and he passed his hand hastily across
his brow.
"What's wrong?" exclaimed Lewis Stoutley, who had recognised the
Captain, and come forward at the moment.
"Did he lose his money to _you_?" asked the Captain, abruptly.
"Well, yes, he did," retorted Lewis, with a look of offended dignity.
"Come along, then, my lad. I want _you_ too. It's a case of life an'
death. Ask no questions, but come along."
The Captain said this with such an air of authority, that Lewis felt
constrained to obey. Fred Leven seemed to follow like one in a dream.
They all got into a cab, and were driven back to Grubb's Court.
As they ascended the stair, the Captain whispered to Lewis, "Keep in the
background, my lad. Do nothing but look and listen."
Another moment and they were in the passage, where Lawrence stopped
them.
"You're almost too late, sir," he said to Fred, sternly. "If you had
fed and clothed your mother better in time past, she might have got over
this. Fortunately for her, poor soul, some people, who don't gamble
away their own and their parents' means, have given her the help that
you have refused. Go in, sir, and try to speak words of comfort to her
_now_."
He went in, and fell on his knees beside the bed.
"Mother!" he said.
Fain would he have said more, but no word could he utter. His tongue
seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. Mrs Leven opened her eyes
on hearing the single word, and her cheek flushed slightly as she seized
one of his hands, kissed it and held it to her breast. Then she looked
earnestly, and oh! so anxiously, into his face, and said in a low
tone:--
"Fred, dear, are you so--"
She stopped abruptly.
"Yes, yes," cried her son, passionately; "yes, mother, I'm sober _now_!
Oh mother, dearest, darling mother, I am guilty, guilty; I have sinned.
Oh forgive, forgive me! Listen, listen! I am in earnest now, my
mother. Think of me as I used to be long ago. Don't shut your eyes.
Look at me, mother, look at Fred."
The poor woman looked at him with tears of gladness in her eyes.
"God bless you, Fred!" she murmured. "It is long, long, since you spoke
like that. But I knew you would. I have always expected that you
would. Praise the Lord!"
Fred tried to speak, and again found that he could not, but the fountain
of his soul was opened. He laid his face on his mother's hand and
sobbed bitterly.
Those who witnessed this scene stood as if spellbound. As far as sound
or motion went these two might have been in the room alone. Presently
the sound of sobbing ceased, and Fred, raising his head, began gently to
stroke the hand he held in his. Sometime in his wild career, he knew
not when or where, he had heard it said that this slight action had
often a wonderful power to soothe the sick. He continued it for some
time. Then the doctor advanced and gazed into the invalid's
countenance.
"She sleeps," he said, in a low tone.
"May I stay beside her?" whispered Fred.
Lawrence nodded assent, and then motioning to the others to withdraw,
followed them into Mrs Roby's room, where he told them that her
sleeping was a good sign, and that they must do their best to prevent
her being disturbed.
"It won't be necessary for any one to watch. Her son will prove her
best attendant just now; but it may be as well that some one should sit
up in this room, and look in now and then to see that the candle doesn't
burn out, and that all is right. I will go now, and will make this my
first visit in the morning."
"Captain Wopper," said Lewis Stoutley, in a subdued voice, when Lawrence
had left, "I won this ten-pound note to-night from Fred. I--I robbed
him of it. Will you give it to him in the morning?"
"Yes, my lad, I will," said the Captain.
"And will you let me sit up and watch here tonight?"
"No, my lad, I won't. I mean to do that myself."
"But do let me stay an hour or so with you, in case anything is wanted,"
pleaded Lewis.
"Well, you may."
They sat down together by the fireside, Mrs Roby having lain down on
her bed with her clothes on, but they spoke never a word; and as they
sat there, the young man's busy brain arrayed before him many and many a
scene of death, and sickness, and suffering, and sorrow, and madness,
and despair, which, he knew well from hearsay (and he now believed it),
had been the terrible result of gambling and drink.
When the hour was past, the Captain rose and said, "Now, Lewis, you'll
go, and I'll take a look at the next room."
He put off his shoes and went on tiptoe. Lewis followed, and took a
peep before parting.
Fred had drawn three chairs to the bedside and lain down on them, with
his shoulders resting on the edge of the bed, so that he could continue
to stroke his mother's hand without disturbing her. He had continued
doing so until his head had slowly drooped upon the pillow; and there
they now lay, the dissipated son and the humble Christian mother,
sleeping quietly together.