I found it more difficult to obtain employment with wages sufficient to
support Mary and me, not to speak of Nancy, than I had expected. Jim
and I tried to hire a boat, but we could not obtain one to suit us for
any sum we could hope to pay. Ours, for so we still called her, had
been carried off, and locked up in a shed at Portsmouth. He and I
picked up a sixpence or a shilling now and then, but some days we got
nothing. There was a great risk of our becoming what my father had so
strongly objected to "long-shore loafers." I would not desert Jim, who
had served me so faithfully, and so we tried, as far as we could, to
work together. Sometimes he talked of going off to sea, but as I could
not leave Mary his heart failed him at the thought of going without me.
At the time appointed I called on Lawyer Chalk.
"Sorry to say we are beaten, my lad," were the words with which he
greeted me. "I fought hard, but there's no doubt that Mr Gull's client
is the nephew of Tom Swatridge, who died intestate, consequently his
nephew is his heir. Had the old man wisely come to me I would have
drawn up a will for him, securing his property to you or any one he
might have desired. I am very sorry for you, but law is law, and it
can't be helped. I hope that you will find employment somewhere soon.
Good-day to you." And he waved me out of his office.
In consequence of his failure in my cause, Lawyer Chalk sank
considerably in the estimation of Bob Fox and his friends, who declared
that the next time they wanted legal advice they would try what Lawyer
Gull could do for them. I should have said that a day or two before he
had sent a clerk armed with due authority to accompany Nancy and Mary,
who brought away our clothing and all the articles which we had
purchased with our own money. Curiously enough, I did not again set
eyes on Mr Eben Swatridge, who was, I understood, the son of a younger
brother of old Tom, who had gone into business in London and made money.
Some property having been left to the two brothers, or to the survivor
of either, Eben had been compelled to make inquiries respecting his long
unrecognised uncle, and had thus been induced to pay the visit to
Portsea which had produced such disastrous results to Mary and me.
The house and furniture and wherry were sold, and directly afterwards he
disappeared from Portsmouth. Perhaps he thought it wise to keep out of
the way of Bob Fox and the other sturdy old salts who supported me. Not
that one of them would have laid a finger on him, and Mary and I agreed
that, far from having any ill-feeling, we should have been ready, for
his uncle's sake, to have been friends if he had explained to us at the
first who he was and his just rights in a quiet way. We had now a hard
struggle to make the two ends meet. Mrs Simmons fell ill, and Mary,
who could no longer go to school, had to attend on her, and I had to
find food and, as it turned out, to pay her rent, she being no longer
able to work for her own support. I did not grumble at this, for I was
grateful to her for her kindness to us; but though we stinted ourselves
to the utmost, we often had not a sixpence in the house to buy fit
nourishment for the poor old lady. Nancy was ready to slave from
morning to night, but was often unsuccessful in obtaining work, so that
she made scarcely enough to support herself; she might have got a
situation, but she would not leave Mary. Whenever honest Jim Pulley
could save a shilling he brought it, as he said, for the widow, though I
knew that besides his wish to help her he was much influenced by his
regard for us. I often thought when the winter came what he and I
should do then. I did not say anything to Mary about the future, but
tried to keep up her spirits, for I saw that her cheek was becoming
pale, and she was growing thinner and thinner every day. At last one
morning, when I had got up just at daylight, and having taken a crust of
bread and a drink of water for breakfast, was about to go out in search
of work, Nancy came into the room, and said--
"I don't know what has come over Mary, but she has been talking and
talking ever so strangely all night, and her cheek is as hot as a live
cinder."
I hurried into the little back room Mary and Nancy occupied next to the
widow's. A glance told me that my dear little sister was in a high
fever. My heart was ready to burst, for she did not know me Mrs
Simmons was too ill to get up and say what she thought of its nature.
"I must run for the doctor, Nancy," I exclaimed; "there's not a moment
to lose;" and snatching up my hat I rushed out of the house, assured
that Nancy would do her best in the meantime.
I had caught sight of Dr Rolt passing along the street on the previous
day, so I knew that he was at home, and I felt more inclined to go to
him than to Mr Jones. I ran as I had not run for a long time, and no
one ventured to stop me now. The doctor was on foot, early as was the
hour. He remembered mother and Mary and me the moment I mentioned my
name.
"I'll come to see your little sister directly," he said.
I waited for him, fearing that he might not find the house. He was soon
ready, and, considering his age, I was surprised how well he kept up
with me. I eagerly ushered him into the house. He had not been long
with Mary before he sent me off to the chemist to get some medicine, for
which I had fortunately enough in my pocket to pay. When I came back he
gave it to her himself, and said that he would send some more in the
evening; but he would not tell me what he thought of her.
I will not dwell on this unhappy time. The doctor came twice every day
and sometimes oftener, but Mary seemed to be getting no better. I had
to go out to get work, but all I could make was not sufficient for our
expenses, and I had to run into debt, besides which the widow's rent was
due, and she could not pay it.
One day Jim brought me a few shillings, which he said the watermen had
given him, but times were bad with most of them, and they could do but
little. This enabled me to get some things absolutely necessary for
Mary and food for the rest of us. The landlord called two or three
times for rent, and at last said that he must put in a distress if it
was not paid. The thought of what the consequence of this would be to
Mary made me tremble with fear. Ill as she and Mrs Simmons were, their
beds might, notwithstanding, be taken from beneath them. The widow
might be carried off to the workhouse, and we should be turned into the
street I begged hard for delay, and promised that I would do all I could
to raise the money. The landlord replied that he would give us two days
more, but would not listen to anything further I had to say. The doctor
had just before called, so that I could not then tell him of our
difficulty. He had not yet given me any assurance that he thought Mary
would recover. Nancy could not leave the house, as she was required
every moment to attend on her and Mrs Simmons. I was not likely to
find Dr Rolt till the evening, so I determined to consult Jim and Bob
Fox. I soon met Jim; he was ready to cry when I told him. He scratched
his head and rubbed his brow, in vain trying to suggest something.
"Bob can't help us either," he said, at length. "He's got into trouble.
Went away three days ago over to France in a smuggling lugger, the
_Smiling Lass_, and she was catched last night with tubs aboard, so he's
sure to want all the money he can get to pay Lawyer Chalk to keep him
out of prison, if that's to be done, but I'm afeared even old Chalk will
be nonplussed this time."
"I wonder whether Lawyer Chalk would lend me the money," I said.
"Might as well expect to get a hen's egg out of a block of granite,"
answered Jim.
On inquiry I found that all my friends from whom I had the slightest
hope of assistance were away over at Ryde, Cowes, or Southampton.
"I tell you, Peter, as I knowed how much you wanted money, I'd a great
mind to go aboard the _Smiling Lass_ t'other day, when Bob axed me.
It's a good job I didn't, isn't it?"
"I am very glad you didn't, not only because you would have been taken,
but because you would have broken the law," I answered. "Father always
set his face against smuggling."
"Yes, maybe he did," said Jim, who did not see that smuggling was wrong
as clearly as I did. "But now what's to be done?"
"We'll go down to the Hard, and try to pick up a job," I answered. "A
few pence will be better than nothing."
We each got a job in different boats. The one I was in took some
passengers over to Ryde, and thence some others to Spithead and back, so
that it was late when I got home with a shilling and a few pence in my
pocket. Mary was no better. The doctor had been, and Nancy had told
him of the landlord's threats, but he had made no remark.
"I'll tell you what I'll do, Nancy," I said; "I'll offer the landlord
this shilling when he comes to-morrow to show that I am in earnest, and
perhaps he will let us off for another day or two."
"Better hear what the doctor thinks when he comes in the morning. I
don't think that he'll allow Mary and Widow Simmons to have their beds
taken from under them. Cheer up, Peter! Cheer up!"
I did cheer up a little when Jim came in and brought another shilling,
his day's earnings, declaring that he'd had a good dinner, and had still
some coppers in his pocket to pay for the next day's breakfast. He,
however, could not resist eating some bread and cheese which Nancy
pressed on him before he went away.
I could scarcely close my eyes for thinking of what the morrow might
bring forth. About midnight Nancy came in and told me that Mary was
sleeping more calmly than she had done since she was taken ill. Hoping
that this was a good sign my mind became less disquieted, and I fell
asleep. The next morning the usual hour for the doctor's coming passed
and he did not appear. We waited and waited, anxious to know whether
Mary really was better. At last there came a knocking at the door, and
in walked the landlord, with a couple of men at his heels.
"Have you the rent ready, good people?" he asked, in a gruff tone.
"No, sir; but I have two shillings, and I promise to pay as much as I
can every day till you've got what you demand," I said, as fast as I
could speak.
The men laughed as I said this.
"Two shillings! That won't go no way, my lad," cried the landlord.
"Let me see, why this old pot and kettle and the cups and plates, and
table and chairs, and everything in this room won't sell for more than
half my demands, so we must have the bedsteads and bedding and a chest
of drawers or so; and as the old woman in there won't ever be able to
pay me more rent, she and all of you must turn out with what remains!
So now, Crouch and Scroggins, do your duty."
The moment he had entered the house Nancy, passing behind me, had locked
Mary's and Mrs Simmons's doors, and having put the keys in her pocket,
had slipped into the scullery or little back kitchen, where we often
cooked in summer. One of the men was in the act of placing one chair
upon another, and his companion was approaching Mary's room, when
suddenly Nancy rushed out of the back kitchen with a red-hot poker in
her hand, and placing herself before it, exclaimed--
"Step an inch nearer if ye dare, ye cowards! Out on ye, Mr Grimes, to
come and disturb a fever-sick girl and an old dying woman for the sake
of a few filthy shillings! Peter here has offered you some, and has
promised to pay you more when he can get them, and I promise too; and
now let me see if one of you dare to lay a finger on any of Missus
Simmons's things! Get out of this house! Get out of this house, I
say!"
And she began flourishing her poker and advancing towards the intruders
in a way which made them beat a rapid retreat towards the door, Mr
Grimes scrambling off the first, and shouting out--
"Assault and battery! I'll make you pay for this, you young vixen!"
"I don't mind your salt and butter, nor what you call me either," cried
Nancy; and she was just slamming the door behind them, when two persons
appeared as if about to enter, one of whom exclaimed, in a voice which I
recognised as that of Dr Rolt--
"Why, my good girl, what is all this about?"
"They said that they was a-going to take Mary's and the widow's beds and
all the things away, sir, and I wouldn't let them," she answered,
panting and still grasping the hot poker.
"Verily, daughter, thou hast taken a very effectual way of preventing
them," said the other person, who I now saw to my great joy was Mr
Silas Gray. He and the doctor at once entered the house.
"Now listen to me, damsel," he continued. "Thou hast been prompted by
affectionate zeal to defend thy friends, I doubt not, but nevertheless
thou hast acted illegally, and the consequences to thyself may be
serious; however, I will say no more on the subject at present. Put
back thy weapon into the fireplace and attend on friend Rolt, who
desires to see his patients."
I saw Mr Gray and the doctor exchange smiles as Nancy, producing the
keys from her pocket, unlocked the doors. He now, observing me, said--
"Tell me, my lad, how all this happened. I thought that thou wast doing
well with thy wherry."
So while the doctor was seeing Mary and Mrs Simmons, I gave him an
exact account of all that had happened since the day he and his family
were out with Jim and me on the water. I had just finished, when the
doctor came into the room.
"I can give you a favourable account of your young sister, my lad," said
Dr Rolt. "Her patience and obedience, aided by Nancy's care, have been
much in her favour, and she will, I trust, shortly recover. As soon as
she has gained sufficient strength our friend Mr Gray wishes her to be
removed to his house, and Nancy can remain here to look after the poor
widow, whose days on earth are numbered."
"Oh, thank you, gentlemen; thank you!" I exclaimed, my heart swelling
so that I could scarcely utter the words.
"And what about yourself, my son?" asked Mr Gray.
"Oh, Jim and I will try to rub on together, and I'll try to pay the
widow's rent as I promised, if you'll speak a word, sir, to Mr Grimes
and get him not to press for payment," I answered.
"Set thy mind at rest on that point. I will satisfy the demands of the
widow's landlord," said Mr Gray; and he then added, "Come to my house
to-morrow, and I will meantime consider what can be done to put you in
the way of gaining your daily bread. I desire to show thee that I am
pleased with thy conduct, but it were small kindness were I to enable
thee to live in idleness."
Again thanking Mr Gray from the bottom of my heart, I said, "What I
want, sir, is work. Help me to get that, and it will be all I ask."
Before going away Mr Gray saw Mary for a short time, and paid a long
visit to poor Mrs Simmons, which she said did her heart good.
I had never felt so happy in my life, and could not resist going out to
tell Jim Pulley.
"Ask him to set thee up with a wherry and we'll go out together again as
we used to do. That will be fine, and we'll be as merry as two
crickets!" he exclaimed.
"I think I ought to leave it with him," I answered. "A wherry costs a
lot of money, and he has already been very generous, though I should
like him to do as you propose, and I promise you, Jim, whatever he
proposes, to stick by you."
"That's all I care for," answered my friend.
He accompanied me to the door, but would not come in for fear of
disturbing Mary.
The next day I went to see Mr Gray, who lived in a pretty house some
way out of Portsmouth. He and his daughters received me very kindly.
He had, he said, been considering what he could do for me. He would
obtain a wherry for me, but he considered that the life of a waterman
was not suited to a lad like me, and he then said that he was a
shipowner, and was about to despatch a brig in a few days to the coast
of Norway for timber, and that, if I pleased, he would send me on board
her as an apprentice. Also, as he considered that I was already a
seaman, he would give me a trifle of pay. Remembering what my father
used to say about not wishing Jack "to become a long-shore lubber," I at
once replied that I would thankfully have accepted his offer, but that I
could not desert Jim Pulley, who would well-nigh break his heart, if I
were to go away without him.
"Nor need thee do that, my son," he answered. "I will provide a berth
also for thy friend on board the _Good Intent_, and he and thou need not
be parted. I approve of thy constancy to him and of his faithfulness to
thee. A long-shore life, such as thou wouldst lead if thou wast owner
of a wherry, would be dangerous if not demoralising, albeit thou might
live comfortably enough."
"But, sir, what will my sister do without me when she recovers and
leaves you, and where will Nancy go when the widow dies?"
"I will be chargeable for both of them. Set thy mind at rest on that
point. Should I be called away--and no man knows how long he has to
live--I will direct my daughters to watch over them. Thou and thy
friend Jim can, in the meantime, follow thy vocation of watermen, so
that thou mayest eat the fruit of thy labours, which is sweeter far to
brave hearts like thine than food, bestowed in charity."
I did my best to thank Mr Gray as I ought, and hastened back to tell
Mary and Nancy and Jim.
"I'd have gone with thee, Peter, even if it had been to Botany Bay, or
any of them outlandish parts," exclaimed Jim, when I told him what Mr
Gray had promised. "I am glad; yes, I am glad!"
We both tried at once to get employment, and did very well that
afternoon and on the two following days.
When I got home on the evening of the last I found that a message had
been left by Mr Gray when he visited the widow and Mary, directing Jim
and me to go the next morning at nine o'clock on board the _Good
Intent_, which had just come into the Commercial Dock. I hastened off
to tell Jim at once. As may be supposed, we were up betimes, and as we
got to the dock before the hour appointed we were able to examine the
_Good Intent_ at our leisure. She was a fair enough looking craft, but
as she was deep in the water, having only just begun to discharge a
cargo of coals brought from the north, and had a dingy appearance, from
the black dust flying about, we could not judge of her properly.
As the bells of Saint Thomas's Church began to strike nine we stepped on
board, and directly afterwards Mr Gray, followed by a short, broad,
oldish man, who had not a bit the look of a skipper, though such I
guessed he was, came out of the cabin.
"Right! Punctuality saves precious hours," said Mr Gray, with an
approving nod. "These are the lads I desire to commit to thy care,
Captain Finlay. Instruct them in their duties, so that they may become
able seamen, and they will repay thy teaching."
"I'll act justly by the laddies, Mr Gray, but there's an auld saying
that `ye canna make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.' If they dinna
keep their wits awake, or if they ha' na wits to keep awake, all the
teaching in the world will na make them sailors."
"They are fair sailors already, and thou wilt find them handy enough, I
hope," observed Mr Gray.
After putting a few questions, Captain Finlay told us to come aboard the
next day but one with our bags, by which time the cargo would be
discharged. We set off home greatly pleased, though puzzled to know how
we should obtain a decent kit. With Nancy's help, I might be pretty
well off, but poor Jim had scarcely a rag to his back besides the
clothes he stood in. In the evening, however, a note came from Mr Gray
with an order on an outfitter to give us each a complete kit suited to a
cold climate. We were not slow to avail ourselves of it. The next day
Dr Rolt considered Mary sufficiently well to be removed, and Mr Gray
sent a closed carriage to convey her to his house. The doctor told me
to be ready to accompany her, and kindly came himself. It was the first
time I had ever been in a coach, and the rolling and pitching made me
feel very queer. The young ladies received us as if we had been one of
themselves, and Mary was carried up into a pretty, neat room, with white
dimity curtains to the bed, and the fresh air blowing in at the open
window.
"I'll leave her to you, now, Miss Hannah," said the doctor. "This is
all she requires, with your watchful care."
After I had had a short talk with Mary alone I took my leave, and Miss
Hannah told me to be sure to come back and see them before the _Good
Intent_ sailed. It was not likely I should forget to do that.
Jim and I now went to live on board the brig. We had plenty of work,
cleaning out the hold and getting rid of the coal-dust, and then we
scrubbed the deck, and blacked down the rigging, and painted the
bulwarks and masts, till the change in the appearance of the dingy
collier was like that of a scullery-maid when she puts on her Sunday
best. We did not mind the hard work, though it was a good deal harder
than any we had been accustomed to, but the master and the rest of the
crew set us a good example. There was little grumbling, and what
surprised me, no swearing, such as I had been accustomed to hear on the
Hard. Captain Finlay would not allow it, and the mate supported him in
checking any wrong expressions which some of the men had been in the
habit of uttering.
I got leave to run up and see Mary and to bid Nancy and Mrs Simmons
good-bye. Miss Hannah and her sisters seemed to be making a great deal
of Mary. It was evident they liked her much, and I was not surprised at
that. The widow I never expected to see again. Nancy would scarcely
let me go.
"Oh, Peter, Peter! What should us do if anything was to happen to ye
out on the cruel sea!" she cried, as she held my hand and rubbed her
eyes with her apron.
The next day the _Good Intent_ went out of harbour, and I began in
earnest the seafaring life I was destined to lead.