It is probable that most people can recall occasions when
"circumstances" have done for them that which they have utterly failed
to effect for themselves.
Some time after the failure of Captain Wopper's little plots and plans
in regard to Mrs Roby, "circumstances" favoured him--the wind shifted
round, so to speak, and blew right astern. To continue our metaphor, it
blew a tremendous gale, and the Captain's ends were gained at last only
by the sinking of the ship!
This is how it happened. One afternoon the Captain was walking rather
disconsolately down the Strand in company with his satellite--we might
almost say, his confidant. The street was very crowded, insomuch that
at one or two crossings they were obliged to stand a few minutes before
venturing over,--not that the difficulty was great, many active men
being seen to dodge among the carts, drays, vans, and busses with
marvellous ease and safety, but the Captain was cautious. He was wont
to say that he warn't used to sail in such crowded waters--there warn't
enough o' sea room for him--he'd rather lay-to, or stand--off-an'-on for
half a day than risk being run down by them shore-goin' crafts.
"Everything in life seems to go wrong at times," muttered the Captain,
as he and the satellite lay-to at one of these crossings.
"Yes, it's coorious, ain't it, sir," said Gillie, "an' at other times
everything seems to go right--don't it, sir?"
"True, my lad, that's a better view to take of it," returned the
Captain, cheerfully, "come, we'll heave ahead."
As they were "heaving" along in silence, the rattle and noise around
them being unsuited to conversation, they suddenly became aware that the
ordinary din of the Strand swelled into a furious roar. Gillie was half
way up a lamp-post in an instant! from which elevated position he looked
down on the Captain, and said--
"A ingine!"
"What sort of a ingine, my lad?"
"A fire! hooray!" shouted Gillie, with glittering eyes and flushed
countenance, "look out, Cappen, keep close 'longside o' me, under the
lee o' the lamp-post. It's not a bad buffer, though never quite a sure
one, bein' carried clean away sometimes by the wheels w'en there's a bad
driver."
As he spoke, the most intense excitement was manifested in the crowded
thoroughfare. Whips were flourished, cabmen shouted, horses reared,
vehicles of all kinds scattered right and left even although there had
seemed almost a "block" two seconds before. Timid foot passengers
rushed into shops, bold ones mounted steps and kerb-stones, or stood on
tip-toe, and the Captain, towering over the crowd, saw the gleam of
brass helmets as the charioteer clove his way through the swaying mass.
There is something powerfully exciting to most minds in the sight of men
rushing into violent action, especially when the action may possibly
involve life and death. The natural excitement aroused in the Captain's
breast was increased by the deep bass nautical roar that met his ear.
Every man in the London fire-brigade is, or used to be, a picked
man-of-war's-man, and the shouting necessary in such a thoroughfare to
make people get out of the way was not only tremendous but unceasing.
It was as though a dozen mad "bo's'ns," capped with brazen war-helmets,
had been let loose on London society, through which they tore at full
gallop behind three powerful horses on a hissing and smoking monster of
brass and iron. A bomb shell from a twenty-five-ton gun could scarce
have cut a lane more effectually. The Captain took off his hat and
cheered in sympathy. The satellite almost dropped from the lamp-post
with excess of feeling. The crash and roar increased, culminated,
rushed past and gone in a moment.
Gillie dropped to the ground as if he had been shot, seized the
Captain's hand, and attempted to drag him along. He might as well have
tried to drag Vesuvius from its base, but the Captain was willing. A
hansom-cab chanced to be in front of them as they dashed into the road,
the driver smoking and cool as a cucumber, being used to such incidents.
He held up a finger.
"Quick, in with you, Cappen!"
Gillie got behind his patron, and in attempting to expedite his
movements with a push, almost sent him out at the other side.
"After the ingine--slap!" yelled Gillie to the face which looked down
through the conversation-hole in the roof, "double extra fare if you
look sharp."
The cabman was evidently a sympathetic soul. He followed in the wake of
the fire-engine as well as he could; but it was a difficult process,
for, while the world at large made way for _it_, nobody cared a straw
for _him_!
"Ain't it fun?" said Gillie, as he settled his panting little body on
the cushion beside his friend and master.
"Not bad," responded the Captain, who half laughed at the thought of
being so led away by excitement and a small boy.
"I'd give up all my bright prospects of advancement in life," continued
Gillie, "to be a fireman. There's no fun goin' equal to a fire."
"P'r'aps it don't seem quite so funny to them as is bein' burnt out,"
suggested the Captain.
"Of course it don't, but that can't be helped, you know--can it, sir?
What can't be cured must be endoored, as the proverb says. Get along,
old fellow, don't spare his ribs--double fare, you know; we'll lose 'em
if you don't."
The latter part of the remark was shouted through the hole to the
cabman, who however, pulled up instead of complying.
"It's of no use, sir," he said, looking down at the Captain, "I've lost
sight of 'em."
Gillie was on the pavement in a moment.
"Never mind, Cappen, give him five bob, an' decline the change; come
along. _I_ see 'em go past the Bridge, so ten to one it's down about
the docks somewheres--the wust place in London for a fire w'ich, of
course, means the best."
The idea of its being so afforded such unalloyed pleasure to Gillie,
that he found it hard to restrain himself and accommodate his pace to
that of his friend.
It soon became very evident that the fire was in truth somewhere about
the docks, for not only was a dense cloud of smoke seen rising in that
direction, but fire-engines began to dash from side streets everywhere,
and to rush towards the smoke as if they were sentient things impatient
for the fray.
The cause of such unusual vigour and accumulation of power was, that a
fire anywhere about the docks is deemed pre-eminently dangerous, owing
to the great and crowded warehouses being stuffed from cellars to
roof-trees with combustibles. The docks, in regard to fire, form the
citadel of London. If the enemy gets a footing there, he must be
expelled at all hazards and at any cost.
As the Captain and his _protege_ hurried along, they were naturally led
in the direction of their home. A vague undefined fear at the same
instant took possession of both, for they glanced gravely at each other
without speaking, and, as if by mutual consent, began to run. Gillie
had no need now to complain of his companion's pace. He had enough to
do to keep up with it. There were many runners besides themselves now,
for the fire was obviously near at hand, and the entire population of
the streets seemed to be pressing towards it. A few steps more brought
them in sight of the head of Grubb's Court. Here several fire-engines
were standing in full play surrounded by a swaying mass of human beings.
Still there was no sign of the precise locality of the fires for the
tall houses hid everything from view save the dense cloud which
overshadowed them all.
Even Captain Wopper's great strength would have been neutralised in such
a crowd if it had not now been seconded by an excitement and anxiety
that nothing could resist. He crushed his way through as if he had been
one of the steam fire-engines, Gillie holding tight to the stout tails
of his monkey jacket. Several powerful roughs came in his way, and
sought to check him. The Captain had hitherto merely used his shoulders
and his weight. To the roughs he applied a fist--right and left--and
two went down. A few seconds brought him to the cordon of policemen.
They had seen him approaching, and one placed himself in front of the
Captain with the quiet air of a man who is accustomed _never_ to give
way to physical force!
"I live down Grubb's Court, my man," said the Captain, with an eager
respectful air, for he was of a law-abiding spirit.
The constable stepped aside, and nodded gravely. The Captain passed the
line, but Gillie was pounced upon as if he had been a mouse and the
constable a cat.
"_He_ belongs to me," cried the Captain, turning back on hearing
Gillie's yell of despair.
The boy was released, and both flew down the Court, on the pavement of
which the snake-like water-hose lay spirting at its seams.
"It's in the cabin," said the Captain, in a low deep voice, as he dashed
into the Court, where a crowd of firemen were toiling with cool, quiet,
yet tremendous energy. No crowd interrupted them here, save the few
frantic inhabitants of the Court, who were screaming advice and doing
nothing; but no attention whatever was paid to them. A foreman of the
brigade stood looking calmly upwards engaged in low-toned conversation
with a brother fireman, as if they were discussing theories of the
picturesque and beautiful with special application to chimney-cans,
clouds of smoke, and leaping tongues of fire.
Immense engine power had been brought to bear, and one of the gigantic
floating-engines of the Thames had got near enough to shower tons of
water over the buildings, still it was a matter of uncertainty whether
the fire could be confined to the Court where it had originated.
The result of the foreman's quiet talk was that the brother-fireman
suddenly seized a nozzle from a comrade, and made a dash at the door
leading up to "the cabin." Flames and smoke drove him back instantly.
It was at this moment that Captain Wopper came on the scene. Without a
moment's hesitation he rushed towards the same door. The foreman seized
his arm.
"It's of no use, sir, you can't do it."
The Captain shook him off and sprang in. A few seconds and he rushed
out choking, scorched, and with his eyes starting almost out of their
sockets.
"It is of no use, sir," remonstrated the foreman, "besides, the people
have all bin got out, I'm told."
"No, they 'aven't," cried Mrs White, coming up at the moment,
frantically wringing the last article of linen on which she had been
professionally engaged, "Mrs Roby's there yet."
"All right, sir," said the foreman, with that quiet comforting
intonation which is peculiar to men of power, resource, and
self-reliance, "come to the back. The escape will be up immediately.
It couldn't get down the Court, owin' to some masonry that was piled
there, and had to be sent round."
Quick to understand, the Captain followed the fireman, and reached the
back of the house, on the riverside, just as the towering head of the
escape emerged from a flanking alley.
"This way. The small window on the right at the top--so."
The ladder was barely placed when the Captain sprang upon it and ran up
as, many a time before, he had run up the shrouds of his own vessel. A
cheer from the crowd below greeted this display of activity, but it was
changed into a laugh when the Captain, finding the window shut and
bolted, want into the room head first, carrying frame and glass along
with him! Divesting himself of the uncomfortable necklace, he looked
hastily round. The smoke was pretty thick, but not sufficiently so to
prevent his seeing poor Mrs Roby lying on the floor as if she had
fallen down suffocated.
"Cheer up, old lass," he cried, kneeling and raising her head tenderly.
"Is that you, Cappen?" said the old woman, in a weak voice.
"Come, we've no time to lose. Let me lift you; the place is all alight.
I thought you was choked."
"Choked! oh dear, no," replied the old woman, "but I've always heard
that in a fire you should keep your face close to the ground for air--
Ah! gently, Cappen, dear!"
While she was speaking, the Captain was getting her tucked under his
strong right arm. He could have whisked her on his shoulder in a
moment, but was afraid of her poor old bones, and treated her as if she
had been a fragile China tea-cup of great value.
Next moment he was out on the escape, and reached the ground amid
ringing cheers. He carried her at once to the nearest place of safety,
and, committing her to the care of Mrs White, rushed back to the scene
of conflagration just as they were about to remove the escape.
"Stop!" shouted the Captain, springing on it.
"There's nobody else up, is there?" cried a fireman, as the Captain ran
up.
"No, nobody."
"Come down then, directly," roared the fireman, "the escape is wanted
elsewhere. Come down, I say, or we'll leave you."
"You're welcome to leave me," roared the Captain, as he stepped into the
window, "only hold your noise, an' mind your own business."
With a mingled feeling of amusement and indignation they hurried away
with the escape. It had been urgently wanted to reach a commanding
position whence to assail the fire. The order to send it was
peremptory, so the Captain was left in his uncomfortable situation, with
the smoke increasing around him, and the fire roaring underneath.
The actions of our seaman were now curious as well as prompt. Taking a
blanket from his old friend's bed, he spread it below the chimney-piece,
and in a remarkably short time pulled down, without damaging, every
object on the wall and threw it into the blanket. He then added to the
heap the Chinese lantern, the Turkish scimitar, the New Zealand club,
the Eastern shield, the ornamented dagger, the worsted work sampler, the
sou'-wester, the oiled coat, the telescope, the framed sheet of the
flags of all nations, and the small portrait of the sea-captain in his
"go-to-meetin'" clothes; also the big Bible and a very small box, which
latter contained Mrs Roby's limited wardrobe. He tied all up in a
tight bundle. A coil of rope hung on a peg on the wall. The bundle was
fastened to the end of it and lowered to the ground, amid a fire of
remarks from the crowd, which were rather caustic and humorous than
complimentary.
"Gillie," shouted the Captain, "cast off the rope, lad, and look well
after the property."
"Ay, ay, Cappen," replied the youth, taking up a thick cart-pin, or
something of the sort, that lay near, and mounting guard.
There was another laugh, from crowd and firemen, at the nautical brevity
and promptitude of Gillie.
At every large fire in London there may be seen a few firemen standing
about in what an ignorant spectator might imagine to be easy
indifference and idleness, but these men are not idlers. They are
resting. The men who first arrive at a fire go into action with the
utmost vigour, and toil until their powers are nearly--sometimes quite--
exhausted. As time passes fresh men are continually arriving from the
more distant stations. These go into action as they come up, thus
relieving the others, who stand aloof for a time looking on, or doing
easy work, and recruiting their energies. It was these men who watched
the Captain's proceedings with much amusement while their comrades were
doing battle with the foe.
Presently the Captain reappeared at the window and lowered a huge
sea-chest. A third time he appeared with the model of a full-rigged
ship in his hand. This time he let the end of the rope down, and then
getting over the window, slid easily to the ground.
"You're uncommon careful o' your property," exclaimed one of the
onlookers, with a broad grin.
"'Taint all _my_ property, lad," replied the Captain, with a
good-humoured nod, "most of it is a poor old 'ooman's belongings."
So saying, he got a man to carry his sea-chest, himself shouldered the
bundle, Gillie was intrusted with the full-rigged model, and thus laden
they left the scene followed by another laugh and a hearty cheer.
But our bluff seaman was not content with rescuing Mrs Roby and her
property. He afterwards proceeded to lend his effective aid to all who
desired his assistance, and did not cease his exertions until evening,
by which time the fire was happily subdued.
"She must not be moved to-night Captain," said Dr Lawrence, for whom
Gillie had been sent; "the place where she lies is doubtless far from
comfortable, but I have got her to sleep, and it would be a pity to
awake her. To-morrow we shall get her into more comfortable quarters."
"Could she bear movin' to-morrow, a mile or so?" asked the Captain.
"Certainly, but there is no occasion to go so far. Lodgings are to be
had--"
"All right, Doctor; I've got a lodging ready for her, and will ask you
to come an' have pot-luck with us before long. Gillie, my lad, you go
hail a cab, and then come back to lend a hand wi' the cargo."
In a few minutes the pair were whirling towards the west end of London,
and were finally landed with their "cargo" on the banks of the Thames
above the bridges, near the new building which Captain Wopper had named,
after its prototype, "the cabin."
To fit this up after the fashion of the old place was a comparatively
short and easy work for two such handy labourers. Before they left that
night it was so like its predecessor in all respects, except dirt, that
both declared it to be the "identical same craft, in shape and rig, even
to the little bed and curtains." Next afternoon Mrs Roby was brought
to it by Captain Wopper, in a specially easy carriage hired for the
purpose.
The poor old woman had received more of a shock than she was willing to
admit, and did exactly as she was bid, with many a sigh, however, at the
thought of having been burnt out of the old home. She was carried up
the stair in a chair by two porters, and permitted the Captain to draw a
thick veil over her head to conceal, as he said, her blushes from the
men. He also took particular care to draw the curtains of the bed close
round her after she had been laid in it and then retired to allow her to
be disrobed by Netta, who had been obtained from Mrs Stoutley on loan
expressly for the occasion.
Much of this care to prevent her seeing the place that day, however, was
unnecessary. The poor old creature was too much wearied by the short
journey to look at anything. After partaking of a little tea and toast
she fell into a quiet sleep, which was not broken till late on the
following morning.
Her first thought on waking was the fire. Her second, the Captain. He
was in the room, she knew, because he was whistling in his usual low
tone while moving about the fireplace preparing breakfast. She glanced
at the curtains; her own curtains certainly,--and the bed too! Much
surprised, she quietly put out her thin hand and drew the curtain
slightly aside. The Captain in his shirt sleeves, as usual, preparing
buttered toast, the fireplace, the old kettle with the defiant spout
singing away as defiantly as ever, the various photographs, pot-lids,
and other ornaments above the fireplace, the two little windows
commanding an extensive prospect of the sky from the spot where she lay,
the full-rigged ship, the Chinese lantern hanging from the beam--
everything just as it should be!
"Well, well," thought Mrs Roby, with a sigh of relief; "the fire must
have been a dream after all! but what a vivid one!"
She coughed. The Captain was at her side instantly.
"Slept well, old girl?"
"Very well, thank you. I've had such a queer dream, d'you know?"
"Have you? Take your breakfast, mother, before tellin' it. It's all
ready--there, fire away."
"It _was_ such a vivid one," she resumed, when half through her third
cup, "all about a fire, and you were in it too."
Here she proceeded to relate her dream with the most circumstantial
care. The Captain listened with patient attention till she had
finished, and then said--
"It was no dream, mother. It's said that the great fire of London was a
real blessin' to the city. The last fire in London will, I hope, be a
blessin' to you an' me. It was real enough and terrible too, but
through God's mercy you have been saved from it. I managed to save your
little odds and ends too. This is the noo `cabin,' mother, that you
wouldn't consent to come to. Something like the old one, ain't it?"
Mrs Roby spoke never a word, but looked round the room in bewilderment.
Taking the Captain's hand she kissed it, and gazed at him and the room
until she fell asleep. Awaking again in half an hour, she finished her
breakfast, asked for the old Bible, and, declaring herself content, fell
straightway into her old ways and habits.