CHAPTER XVII.

Bet went home, and all Wednesday she stayed indoors, taking little or

no notice of her brothers, and never alluding to the subject of the

wedding which was to take place the next morning. The boys, finding her

intensely unsociable, devoted themselves to their own occupations,

which were, after a fashion, absorbing enough. They discovered how to

climb on to the roof of this very tall house, and the spice of danger

which accompanied such a proceeding rendered it quite delightful to

them. From the roof of Mother Bunch's house they could slide or crawl

on to other roofs; and Bet knew very little of the amount of liberty

they enjoyed on these dirty but airy pinnacles.

She heard their laughter as they scampered in and out of the attic

to-day without paying much attention to it. She felt stupid and heavy,

and the excitement she had undergone on the previous evening had in its

recoil reduced her to a state of almost inertia.

The slow hours dragged themselves along, and Bet's wedding-day, the day

when parson could make her and Will one--when, the license being there,

and the necessary formalities gone through, they might really stand up

in God's house and have the sacred knot tied between them forever--had

arrived.

It was a dull, foggy morning, with a drizzling mist. No matter; it was

their wedding-day, thought Will, and no one could be more cheerful than

he as he donned his becoming sailor suit and brushed his curly hair,

and made himself look as spruce and neat as any jack-tar in the land.

Rain and mist were nothing to this son of the briny ocean, the sunshine

was in his heart, and he could scarcely believe in the wonderful good

fortune which was to give him the brightest, the dearest, the

handsomest girl in the town.

"Wish me luck, Mrs. Jobling," he said, as he rushed downstairs and

encountered his sour-faced landlady in the tiny entrance hall--"I'm to

be wed this morning to Bet Granger, the finest and the best lass in

Liverpool. You needn't keep the bedroom for me, Mrs. Jobling; for Bet

and me, we are going to Birkenhead for our honeymoon, and on Monday I'm

off on another cruise. By the way"--here Will suddenly remembered the

pretty sealskin purse; he thrust his hand into his trousers pocket--"is

this yourn?" he said, holding the dainty treasure out for his landlady

to see.

"No, no," she said, backing a step or two; "I'd have no call to a

pretty thing like that--why, it _is_ fine! Looks as if it belonged to a

lady. However did you come by it, Will?"

"That's more than I can tell you, ma'am. It lay on the floor in my room

two nights back, and I picked it up. Well, if it ain't yourn, and I

can't find no owner, it'ull do as a wedding-present for Bet." He

slipped the purse again into his pocket and made off.

Hester Wright had gone early to Paradise Row to fetch Bet, for she was

to be her sole bridesmaid--in fact, the only friend who was to see her

give herself to Will. Will had no best man. But what of that? His heart

did feel light this morning, and the gay notes which he sang as he

hurried along the streets had an undertone of thanksgiving running

through them. He was glad the day had really arrived, and thought to

himself how relieved his poor girl would be, and how he could laugh at

the unreasonable fear which she had shown two nights ago. He had

certainly never guessed that Bet was nervous; but she had shown the

most unreasonable, the queerest terror when last they had met. Well, it

was all right now, and he could prove to her how vain were her alarms.

The doors of the church were not yet opened when the little wedding

party of three met. Bet's face was still pale, and her eyes had a

tired, almost hunted expression. She came close to Will and took his

hand, utterly regardless of the significant looks of the passers-by.

The words and glances of the multitude were nothing to her at that

moment. She was holding her true love's hand; and the minutes were

flying, flying, and the danger that she dreaded must be even now on

their heels.

"What ail's you, Bet?" whispered Will, tenderly. "I'm here, and the

hour ha' come. In a minute or two now nought can sever us."

Bet did not speak. She clasped both her hands over Will's, and looked

anxiously over her shoulder to right and left.

"Don't worry her," whispered Hester Wright. "She has a dread on her,

and there's no argufying it away. After you are wed it will pass. Don't

worry her with questions."

Will sighed, and a cold little cloud seemed to come between him and the

sun of happiness in which he had been basking all the morning.

Just then there was a bustle and a little commotion. It was only the

verger unlocking the church doors. A small crowd of people who scent

out even the humblest wedding had already collected-mostly ragged

people, shoeless and stockingless boys and girls, women who sold

watercress, one or two loafers from the wharves. Will, Bet and Hester

were just about to go into the church, when into the midst of this

motley group a man neatly dressed in plain clothes stepped briskly. He

came straight up to Scarlett.

"Is your name William Scarlett?" he said, "and do you live at Mrs.

Jobling's, No. 10 Quay Street?"

"Yes," said Will, in surprise. "I'm a sailor, and my name's Will

Scarlet. I have a bedroom at Mrs. Jobling's."

"Yes, just so," replied the man. "Oh, come now, young woman--I've a

word to say to this party by himself. Just you let go your hand, young

woman, if _you_ please."

Bet seemed neither to hear nor to heed. Her disengaged arm was now

flung over Will's shoulder, and the hand which clasped his felt, in its

intense grip, as strong and firm as iron.

"I knew that it 'ud come," she whispered between her set lips.

Will looked down at her, and something in her terrible agitation

infected him strangely. He felt hot and annoyed and angry-almost angry

with Bet, for losing her presence of mind, very angry with the stranger

for intercepting him thus with ridiculous, senseless questions.

"Parson's inside," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the

church; "and her and me is waiting to be wed. Ef you have anything to

say to me, mate, I'll hear it later on, after we is wed.--All the same

I don't know you, nor what your business can be," he added.

"My business is plain enough, young man. You're wanted, and you must

come with me. I've a warrant here to arrest you on the charge of

stealing two five-pound notes--same being passed through the Bank of

England yesterday, with your name and address on the back. You'd better

come off quietly, for there's no help for it, and the less you say the

better, for whatever you does say I warn you will be used against you.

Come, young woman,--hands off! You'd better let parson know that his

services won't be wanting today."

Bet's head was now lying on Will's breast; her wide-open eyes were

fixed on his face. He stooped down and kissed her. He was very white

himself, and felt rather dazed, but his anger was gone.

"I can't make it out, sweetheart," he whispered. "It's an ugly mistake,

and to happen on our wedding morn. All the same it's nothing in life

but a mistake, my dear; and I don't see, if there's a scrap of justice

in England, how I can but be back with you by nightfall, darling. You

and Hester had better search up Dent, for he's the man to clear me, and

I heerd you say as he hadn't sailed in the 'Good Queen Anne.' Now I

must go with this feller; but I'll come back to you and Hester soon,

for in course I can tell how I got the notes. Here I am--at your

service, sir."

Will himself placed Bet's hand in Hester's. She had not said a word nor

sought to detain him; but when he turned the corner something seemed

all of a sudden to stop in her heart; and the strong girl fainted in

Hester's arms.

A Girl of the People · 第 17 / 33 章