That night when I got back to Camberwell, I found that not only had
supper been ready above an hour, but Mrs Dean and Esau were both
waiting for me to join them.
"I thought we'd make a sort of a party of it," said Esau, "only not ask
anybody, so that we could enjoy ourselves, though if that policeman was
anywhere near, and old Dingle wasn't so far off, I should like to have
had them in."
"Oh, I am glad you've come," cried Mrs Dean, "for Esau has been going
on so."
"Only," continued Esau, ignoring his mother's words, "you couldn't ask
old Dingle without asking his wife and twelve children, and that would
take such a lot of plates, without counting the pie mother's made, and
that's only just enough for three."
"But why have you got such a grand hot supper?" I said.
"Because of its being a holiday, and because we're going to make a fresh
start in life over there in the woods."
"Esau, my dear, don't, pray don't," whimpered his mother. "It was bad
enough sitting up for you all night, and you not coming, but it's far
worse when you will go on like that."
"Come, sit down, Mr Gordon. I'm as hungry as can be. Why you know you
went to sleep, mother."
"I didn't, my dear. I never had a wink all night for expecting you."
"Well, how could I help it, mother? We should have been home safe
enough if we hadn't been locked up in a dun John."
"Yes, and my boy in custody--in prison. Oh dear me! oh dear me!"
"Ah!" shouted Esau, striking the table hard with a spoon. "You dare to
cry again, and I won't eat a bit of supper."
"But I can't help it, Esau," sobbed the poor little woman; "I declare
I've been seeing nothing but policemen and prison vans ever since you
told me where you had been."
"All comes o' getting into bad company, mother," said Esau, cutting the
steaming steak pie. "There; that's an extra spoonful o' gravy for you
if you promise not to cry."
He passed a plate to where his mother sat, and began to help me.
"Bad company's the ruin of all boys," continued Esau, laughing at me.
"Look at Mr Gordon's ear, and that mark on his face."
"Oh, my dear," cried Mrs Dean, "my eyes were so dim, I didn't see. Is
it very bad?"
"'Course you couldn't see," cried Esau, "if you keep on crying. Why you
ought to laugh for joy to think Mr Gordon and me's got out of bad
company, and left old Dempster for good."
"I am glad, my dear, if it's for your good, I'm sure. Let me give you a
hot baked potato, Mr Gordon, my dear. But Esau has been going on in
the wildest way--says he shall start across the sea to some dreadful
place."
"That I didn't, mother; I said it was a lovely place. There you are,
master. Mr Esau Dean, may I have the pleasure of helping you to some
poy?"
"He says he shall be an emigrant, my dear, and shall go and build
himself a house in the woods."
"Well," said Esau, helping himself quickly, "there's no room here in
London to build one, and if there was the people wouldn't let me have
the ground."
"And it's all madness, and wild as wild."
"Well, you might give your poor son, who has just escaped outer prison,
a hot potato," said Esau, grinning at me again.
"Oh, my dear, I beg your pardon. There, let me help you. That's a
beauty."
"Then why didn't you give it to Mr Gordon?"
"Do be quiet, my dear. How you do talk. I really think you're half
crazy."
"I was, mother, to stop with old `going, going, gone' so long. Never
mind; I'm going to have land of my own, and a house in the woods, where
I can go and shoot bears and wolves."
"There, Mr Gordon, my dear, that's how he has been going on ever since
he came home."
"Hold your plate for some more gravy," said Esau to me. "That's the
worst part of it. I shan't have mother to make hot steak pies and
lovely crusts."
"It isn't half so good as I should like to make it, Esau," said the poor
little woman sadly; "but do be a good boy, and leave off all that
dreadful talk. Mr Gordon don't go on like that."
"No, but he thinks all the more, mother."
"He don't, I'm sure. Now do you, Mr Gordon?"
"I'm afraid I've quite made up my mind to go, Mrs Dean," I said sadly.
"Oh, my dear, don't," she cried. "It's too dreadful. Right on the
other side of the world, where there's bears and wolves, and for all we
know perhaps savage Red Indians."
"Oh, there are, mother, lots of 'em; and they scallop people and roast
'em."
"Esau!" half shrieked the poor little woman wildly.
"Don't eat 'em afterwards, do they, Mr Gordon?"
"Don't listen to him, Mrs Dean," I cried. "He is saying all this to
tease you."
"I thought so," she cried triumphantly. "Then he doesn't mean to go?"