Being naturally a straightforward man, and not gifted with much power in
the way of plotting and scheming, Captain Wopper began in time to
discover that he had plunged his mental faculties into a disagreeable
state of confusion.
"Gillie, my lad," he said, looking earnestly at his satellite while they
walked one afternoon along the Bayswater road in the direction of
Kensington, "it's a bad business altogether."
Gillie, not having the smallest idea what the Captain referred to,
admitted that it was "wery bad indeed," but suggested that "it might be
wuss."
"It's such a perplexin' state o' things," pursued the Captain, "to be
always bouncin' up an' down wi' hopes, an' fears, an' disappointments,
like a mad barometer, not knowin' rightly what's what or who's who."
"Uncommon perplexin'," assented Gillie. "If I was you, Cappen, I'd
heave the barometer overboard along wi' the main-deck, nail yer colours
to the mast, cram the rudder into the lee-scuppers, kick up your
flyin'-jib-boom into the new moon, an' go down stern foremost like a
man!"
"Ha!" said the Captain, with a twinkle in the corner of his
"weather-eye," "not a bad notion."
"Now, my lad, I'm goin' out to my villa at Kensington to dine. There's
to be company, too, an' you're to be waiter--"
"Stooard, you mean?"
"Well, yes--stooard. Now, stooard, you'll keep a good look-out, an'
clap as tight a stopper on yer tongue as may be. I've got a little plot
in hand, d'ee see, an' I want you to help me with it. Keep your eye in
a quiet way on Dr Lawrence and Miss Gray. I've taken a fancy that
perhaps they may be in love with each other. You just let me have your
opinion on that pint after dinner, but have a care that you don't show
what you're up to, and, whatever you do, don't be cheeky."
"All right," said the stooard, thrusting both hands into his
trouser-pockets; "I'll do my best."
While these two were slowly wending their way through Kensington
Gardens, Emma Gray arrived at the Captain's villa--California Cottage,
he called it--and rang the bell. The gate was opened by Netta White,
who, although not much bigger than when first introduced to the reader,
was incomparably more beautiful and smart. Mrs Stoutley had reason to
be proud of her.
"I did not know that _you_ were to be here, Netta?" said Emma, in
surprise, as she entered.
"It was a very sudden call, Miss," said Netta, with a smile. "Captain
Wopper wrote a note to me, begging me to ask Mrs Stoutley to be so good
as lend me to him for a day to help at his house-warming. Here is the
letter, Miss."
Emma laughed as she glanced carelessly at the epistle, but became
suddenly grave, turned white, then red, and, snatching the letter from
the girl's hand, gazed at it intently.
"La! Miss, is anything wrong?"
"May I keep this?" asked Emma.
"Certainly, Miss, if you wish it."
Before she could say anything more, they were interrupted by the
entrance of Dr Lawrence. With a surprised look and smile he said--
"I have been invited to dine with our friend Captain Wopper, but did not
anticipate the pleasure of meeting Miss Gray here."
Emma explained that she also had been invited to dine with the Captain,
along with her mother and brother, but had supposed that that was all
the party, as he, the Captain, had mentioned no one else, and had been
particular in begging her to come an hour before the time, for the
purpose of going over his new villa with him, and giving him her private
opinion of it.
"I am punctual," she added, consulting her watch; "it is just four
o'clock."
"Four! Then what is the dinner hour?"
"Five," answered Emma.
"The Captain's wits must have been wool-gathering," rejoined Lawrence,
with a laugh. "He told me to come punctually at four. However, I
rejoice in the mistake, as it gives me the great pleasure of assisting
you to form an unprejudiced opinion of the merits of the new villa.
Shall we begin with an exploration of the garden?"
Emma had no cause to blush at such an innocent proposal, nevertheless a
richer colour than usual mantled on her modest little face as she fell
in with the Doctor's humour and stepped out into the small piece of
ground behind the house.
It was of very limited extent and, although not surrounded too closely
by other villas, was nevertheless thoroughly overlooked by them, so that
seclusion in that garden was impossible. Recognising this fact, a
former proprietor had erected at the lower end of the garden a bower so
contrived that its interior was invisible from all points except one,
and that was a side door to the garden which opened on a little passage
by which coals, milk, meat, and similar substances were conveyed from
the front to the rear of the house.
Dr Lawrence and Emma walked round and round the garden very slowly,
conversing earnestly. Strange to say, they quite forgot the object
which had taken them there. Their talk was solely of Switzerland. As
it continued, the Doctor's voice deepened in tones and interest, and his
fair companion's cheek deepened in colour. Suddenly they turned into
the bower. As they did so, Gillie White chanced to appear at the garden
door above referred to, which stood ajar. The spider's countenance was
a speaking one. During the five minutes which it appeared in the
doorway, it, and the body belonging to it, became powerfully eloquent.
It might have conveyed to one's mind, as it were, a series of _tableaux
vivants_. Gillie's first look was as if he had been struck dumb with
amazement (that was Lawrence suddenly seizing one of Emma's hands in
both of his and looking intently into her face). Then Gillie's look of
amazement gave place to one of intense, quite touching--we might almost
say sympathetic--anxiety as he placed a hand on each knee and stooped
(that was the Doctor's right hand stealing round Emma's waist, and Emma
shrinking from him with averted face). The urchin's visage suddenly
lighted up with a blaze of triumph, and he seized his cap as if about to
cheer (that was the Doctor's superior strength prevailing, and Emma's
head, now turned the other way, laid on his shoulder). All at once
Gillie went into quiet convulsions, grinned from ear to ear, doubled
himself up, slapped his thigh inaudibly--_a la_ Captain Wopper--and
otherwise behaved like an outrageous, yet self-restrained, maniac (that
was--well, we have no right to say what _that_ was). As a faithful
chronicler, however, we must report that one-half minute later the
stooard found Captain Wopper in the villa drawing-room, and there stated
to him that it was "hall right; that he didn't need for to perplex
hisself about Doctor Lawrence and Miss Hemma Gray, for that they was as
good as spliced already, having been seen by him, Gillie, in the bower
at the end of the garding a-blushin' and a--" Here the spider stopped
short and went into another fit of convulsions--this time unrestrained.
Is it necessary to say that Captain Wopper sat at the foot of his own
table that day--Mrs Stoutley being at the head--with his rugged visage
radiant and his powerful voice explosive; that he told innumerable
sea-stories without point, and laughed at them without propriety; that,
in the excess of his hilarity, he drank a mysterious toast to the
success of all sorts of engagements, present and future; that he called
Mrs Stoutley (in joke) sister, and Emma and Lewis (also in joke) niece
and neffy; that he called Doctor Lawrence neffy, too, with a pointedness
and a sense of its being the richest possible joke, that covered with
confusion the affianced pair; and with surprise the rest of the company;
that he kicked the stooard amicably out of the room for indulging in
explosions of laughter behind his chair, and recommending him, the
Captain, to go it strong, and to clap on sail till he should tear the
mast out of 'er, or git blowed on his beam-ends; that the stooard
returned unabashed to repeat the offence unreproved; that towards the
end, the Captain began a long-winded graphic story which served to show
how his good friend and chum Willum Stout in Callyforny had commissioned
him to buy and furnish a villa for the purpose of presenting it to a
certain young lady in token of his gratitood to her for bein' such a
good and faithful correspondent to him, Willum, while he was in furrin'
parts; also, how he was commissioned to buy and furnish another villa
and present it to a certain doctor whose father had saved him from
drownin' long long ago, he would not say _how_ long ago; and how that
this villa, in which they was feedin', was one of the said villas, and
that he found it quite unnecessary to spend any more of Willum's
hard-earned gains in the purchase of the other villa, owing to
circumstances which had took place in a certain bower that very day! Is
it necessary, we again ask, to detail all this? We think not;
therefore, we won't.
When reference was made to the bower, Emma could stand, or sit, it no
longer. She rose hastily and ran blushing into the garden. Captain
Wopper uttered a thunderous laugh, rose and ran after her. He found her
in the bower with her face in her hands, and sat down beside her.
"Captain Wopper," she suddenly exclaimed, looking up and drawing a note
from her pocket, "do you know this?"
"Yes, duckie," (the Captain was quite reckless now), "it's my last
billy-doo to Netta White. I never was good at pot-hooks and hangers."
"And do you know _this_ letter?" said Emma, holding up to the seaman's
eyes her uncle William's last letter to herself.
The Captain looked surprised, then became suddenly red and confused.
"W'y--ye-es, it's Willum's, ain't it?"
"The same pot-hooks and hangers _precisely_!" said Emma, "are they not?
Oh!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms round the Captain's neck and
kissing him, "uncle William, how _could_ you deceive us so?"
The Captain, to use his own expressions, was taken aback--fairly brought
up all standin'.
It had never occurred to his innocent mind that he should commit himself
so simply. He felt an unconquerable objection to expressions of
gratitude, and perceiving, with deep foresight that such were impending,
his first impulse was to rise and fly, but Emma's kiss made him change
his mind. He returned it in kind but not in degree, for it caused the
bower to resound as with a pistol shot.
"Oh! wot a cracker, ain't it just? you're a nice man, ain't you, to go
poachin' on other fellers--"
The Captain seized his opportunity, he broke from Emma and dashed wildly
at the spider, who incontinently fled down the conduit for coals,
cheering with the fury of a victorious Ashantee chief!