SALVAGE.
"Mister Nanjivell! Mis-ter Nanjivell!"
It was the child 'Beida's voice, calling from below.
"Are you upstairs, Mister Nanjivell? I want to see you--in _such_ a
hurry!"
Following up her summons, she arrived panting at the open doorway.
"O-oh!" she cried, after a catch of the breath. Her face blanched as
she looked around the bedroom; at Builder Gilbert, standing, wash-jug
in hand; at Mr Pamphlett, kneeling, examining the cupboard; at
Policeman Rat-it-all, kneeling also, but on one knee, while on the
other he supported Nicky-Nan's inert head and bathed a cut on the
right temple, dipping a rag of a towel into the poor chipped basin on
the ground beside him.
"What are you doin' to him?" demanded 'Beida, her colour coming back
with a rush.
Mr Pamphlett had slewed about on his knees. "Here, you cut and run!"
he commanded sharply. But his posture did not lend itself to
authority, and he showed some embarrassment.
"What are you doin' to him?" the child demanded again.
"He've had a fit," explained Builder Gilbert, holding out the ewer.
"Here, run downstairs and fetch up some more water, if you want to be
useful."
'Beida stared at the ewer. She transferred her gaze to Rat-it-all
and his patient: then, after a shiver, to Mr Pamphlett. She had
courage. Her eyes grew hard and fierce.
"Is that why Mr Pamphlett's pokin' his nose into a cupboard?"
"Rat it all!" the constable ejaculated, casting a glance over his
shoulder and dipping a hand wide of the basin.
"Fetch up some water, my dear," suggested Builder Gilbert. "When a
man's in a fit 'tis no time to ask questions, as you'll learn when
you grow up." Again he proffered the ewer.
'Beida ignored it. "When a man's in a fit, do folks help by pokin'
their noses into his cupboards?" she demanded again, not removing her
eyes from Mr Pamphlett.
"Pack that child out!" commanded Mr Pamphlett, standing up and
addressing Rat-it-all. "Do you hear me?"
"I hear, sir," answered Rat-it-all. "But situated as I be--"
He cast a helpless glance at the child, who seemed to grow in stature
as, lifting her forefinger and pointing it at Mr Pamphlett, she
advanced into the room and shrilled--
"You've come to steal his money, the three of 'ee! An' you can't
take me in nor frighten me, not one of 'ee!"
The high treble voice, or the word "money," or both, fetched
Nicky-Nan back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and groaned.
"The money--where's the money?" he muttered. His eyes opened wider.
Then of a sudden his brain cleared. He sat up with a wild cry,
almost a scream; and, thrusting Rat-it-all backwards with all the
force of one hand, with the other groped on the floor for his
walking-staff--which lay, however, a couple of yards from him and
close by Mr Pamphlett's feet.
"My money!--Rogues! Cheats!--" He broke down and put a hand to his
head in momentary faintness. "Where be I?" Then taking his hand
away and catching sight of the blood on it, he yelled out "Murder!
Where's my money? Murder! Thieves!"
"Hush 'ee, Mister Nanjivell." 'Beida dropped on her knees beside
him. "Hush 'ee now, co! Here, let _me_ take the towel an' bathe your
poor head," she coaxed him. "You've had a fall, an' cut yourself--
that's what happened. An' these men weren't murderin' 'ee, nor
shan't while I am here. No, nor they han't stole your money,
neither--though I won't say they weren't tryin'."
He submitted, after a feeble convulsive struggle. "Where's my
money?" he persisted.
"Your money's all right. Safe as if 'twas in the Bank--safer, I
reckon," she added, with an unfriendly glance at Mr Pamphlett.
"What money is this you're talking about?" asked that gentleman,
stepping forward. He had no children of his own: and when he spoke
to children (which was not often) his tone conveyed that he thought
very little of them. He used that tone now: which was sheer
blundering folly: and he met his match.
"The money you were huntin' for," answered 'Beida, quick as thought.
"You mustn't speak to me like that. It's naughty and--er--
unbecoming."
"Why? _Weren't_ you lookin' for it?" Her eyes sought Rat-it-all and
questioned him.
Mr Pamphlett made haste before his ally could speak. "The Policeman
was acting in the execution of his duty." This was a fine phrase,
and it took 'Beida aback, for she had not a notion what it meant.
But while she sought for a retort, Mr Pamphlett followed up his
advantage, to crush her, and blundered again. "You don't understand
that, eh?"
"Not rightly," she admitted.
"Then don't you see how foolish it is for little girls to mix
themselves in grown-up people's affairs? A policeman has to do many
things in what is called the execution of his duty, For instance,"
continued Mr Pamphlett impressively, "sometimes he takes little girls
when they're naughty, and locks them up."
"Fiddlestick!" said 'Beida with a sigh of relief. "Now I know you're
gassin'. . . . Just now you frightened me with your talk of
executions, which is what they do to a man when he's murdered some
person: and o' course if Nicky--if Mr Nanjivell had been doin'
anything o' _that_ sort--which he hasn', o' course. . . . But when
you go on pretendin' as Rat-it-all can lock _me_ up, why then I see
your game. Tryin' to frighten me, you are, because I'm small."
"If you were a child of mine," threatened Mr Pamphlett, very red in
the gills, "do you know what I'd do to you?"
"No," replied 'Beida; "I can't think. . . . But I reckon 'twould be
something pretty mean. Oh, I'm sick an' tired of the gentry!--if you
call yourself gentry. First of all you turn Father an' Mother out to
find a new home. An' then, as if that wasn' enough, you must come
nosin' in after Mr Nanjivell's small savin's. . . . Gentry!" she
swung round upon Builder Gilbert. "Here, Mr Gilbert, you're neither
gentry nor perlice. When I tell you about Miss Charity Oliver, that
calls herself a lady! What must _she_ do but, happenin' on 'Biades--
that's my younger brother, an' scarce turned four--outside o' Mrs
Pengelly's, with a bit of gold money in his hand that Mr Nanjivell
gave to him in a moment o' weakness,--what must she do (an' callin'
herself a lady, no doubt, all the while) but palm off two bright
coppers on him for a swap? . . . That's a _fact_," 'Beida wound up,
dabbing the towel gently, but with an appearance of force, against
Nicky-Nan's temple, "for I got it out o' the child's own mouth, an'
work enough it was. That's your gentry!"
"Hey?" Nicky-Nan pushed her hand aside. "What's this you're
tellin', now?"
"Ask _him!_" she answered, nodding towards Mr Pamphlett. "He knows
all about it, an' 'tis no use for him to pretend he don't."
"_Me_ give your small brother--?" began Nicky, but broke off with a
groan and felt his brow again. "Oh, where's the head or tail to
this? Where's the _sense?_ . . . Give me my money--that's all I ask.
Stop talkin' all of 'ee, an' fetch me what you've stole, between 'ee,
an' leave me alone!"
Mr Pamphlett shifted his ground. "You're right, Nanjivell.
What's become of your money?--that's the main point, eh?"
"O' course 'tis the main point," growled Nicky. "Though I'm damned
if I see how it consarns _you_."
"Maybe I can enlighten you by-and-by. For the present you want to
know what has become of the money: and I've a strong suspicion this
child can tell us, if she chooses to confess. If not--" he raised a
minatory forefinger and shook it at 'Beida--"well, it's fortunate I
brought the constable, who will know how to act."
"Will I?" said Rat-it-all, scratching his head.
"No, you won't," 'Beida answered him stoutly, and turned again to
Nicky-Nan.
"Mr Nanjivell," she pleaded, "tell me--didn't you find these three
turnin' your room inside out?"
"'Course I did." Nicky-Nan cast a malignant glance around.
"Was they doin' it with your leave?"
"'Course they wasn't. Why, look at the state o' my head!"
"You cut it yourself, fallin' against the scurtin'-board by the
cupboard," put in Builder Gilbert.
'Beida noted his nervousness.
"You say so!" she rapped on him. "Maybe when Mr Nanjivell has you up
before Squire Tresawna, you'll all swear to it in league." Again she
turned to Nicky. "Struck your head, did you?--fallin' against the
cupboard, when they was huntin' for your money: which they can't
deny. Did you _want_ Mr Pamphlett to find your money?"
"_Him?_" said Nicky-Nan bitterly. "_Him?_ as I wouldn' trust not
ha'f so far as a man could fling him by his eyebrows!"
"Well, _I_'ve got your savin's--'Bert an' me, every bit of it--stowed
an' put away where they can't find it, not if they hunted for weeks.
I came upstairs to tell about it, and where we've stowed it. Now be
you goin' to put 'Bert and me to prison for that?"
"My dear"--Nicky-Nan spread out his hands--"not if you was a thief
an' had really stole it, I wouldn'. But behavin', as you have, like
an angel slap out o' Heaven--" He staggered up and confronted Mr
Pamphlett. "Here, you clear out o' this!" he threatened, pointing to
the door. "You're done, my billies. Tuck your tails atween your
legs an' march!"
"A moment, if you please," put in Mr Pamphlett suavely. "You will
allow that, not being accustomed to little girls and not knowing
therefore how a pert child should properly be chastised and brought
to book, I have been uncommonly patient with this one. But you are
mistaken, the pair of you, in taking this line with me: and your
mistake, though it comes from ignorance of the law, may happen to
cost you both pretty dearly." He paused, while Nicky-Nan and 'Beida
exchanged glances.
"Don't you heed him," said 'Beida encouragingly. "He's only gassin'
again." But she faced up for a new attack.
"I have reason to believe," continued Mr Pamphlett, ignoring her and
wagging his forefinger at Nicky; "I have evidence going far to
convince me that this money of which we are talking is not yours at
all: that you never earned it by your own labour, nor inherited it,
nor were left it in any legitimate way. In other words, you were
just lucky enough to find it."
"What's that to _you?_"
"It concerns me to this extent. By the-common law of England all
such money, so discovered, belongs to the Crown: though I understand
it is usually shared equally among the Crown, the finder, and the
lord of the manor on which it was hidden. Therefore by concealing
your knowledge of this money you are illegally defrauding His
Majesty, and in fact (if you found it anywhere in Polpier) swindling
me, who own the manor rights of Trebursey and Trethake, which
together cover every square inch of this town. I bought them from
Squire Tresawna these ten years since. And"--he turned upon 'Beida--
"any one who hides, or helps to hide, such money is an accomplice,
and may go to prison for it. _Now_ what have you to say?"
But Mr Pamphlett had missed to calculate Nicky-Nan's recklessness and
the strength of old hatred.
"'Say'?" Nicky shook with passion. "I say you're tellin' up a
parcel o' lies you can't prove. Do _I_ step into _your_ dam Bank an'
ask where you picked up the coin?--No? Well then, get out o' this
an' take your Policeman with 'ee. Fend off, I say!" he snapped, as
Rat-it-all touched him by the arm.
"No offence, Mr Nanjivell," said the Policeman coaxingly.
"But merely as between naybours, if I might advise. Mr Pamphlett is
a very powerful gentleman: or, as I might put it better, he has
influence, unknown to you or me, an' knowledge--"
"He's a very powerful skunk."
"'Beida! . . . 'Beida!" called a voice from the foot of the stairs.
'Beida, after a start of joy, answered with the Penhaligon war-whoop,
as her brother came charging up.
"Have you told him?" burst in young 'Bert, and drew back at gaze, a
foot within the threshold.
"Yes, I've told him," answered 'Beida. "No, you needn' stare so,"
she went on hurriedly, catching him on the edge of confusion.
"It'll be all right if you just answer up an' tell the truth. . . .
When we was movin' this afternoon, you an' me took Mr Nanjivell's
savin's away, the last thing--didn' we?"
"Then what have you done with them?" thundered Mr Pamphlett.
"Don't you answer him that," said 'Beida sweetly. "But answer
everything else. An' don't you be afraid of him. _I_ ben't."
"What d'ee want me to tell?" asked 'Bert, a trifle uneasily.
"Everything: 'cept you may leave out 'Biades. He's but a child o'
four, an' don't count."
"Well," said 'Bert, addressing Mr Pamphlett--and his face, though
pale, was dogged--"if 'Beida's willin', I'd as lief get it off my
mind. . . . The first thing, sir, was P'liceman Rat-it-all's comin'
to me, Tuesday evenin': an' he said to me, 'What be you doin' to
occupy yourself as a Boy Scout, now that this here coast-watchin's
off?'--"
"I didn' say 'off,'" interrupted Rat-it-all. "I didn' use no such
low and incorrect expression. My words was 'Now that this here
coast-watchin' has come to a ontimely end.'"
"I dessay that _was_ the way you put it," 'Bert admitted. "When you
starts talkin' Lun'on, all I can follow is the sense--an' lucky if
that."
"Bodmin," corrected Rat-it-all modestly. "I don't pretend to no more
than the Provinces as yet: though Lord knows where I may end."
"Get on with the story, boy," Mr Pamphlett commanded.
"Well, sir, I owned to him that I was left pretty well at a loose
end, with nothin' on hand but to think out how to do a Kind Action
every day, as is laid down in the Scout Rules: and it may come easy
enough to _you_, sir," added 'Bert with unconscious irony, "but _I_
got no invention. An' his manner bein' so friendly, I told him as
how I was breakin' my heart for a job. 'Would 'ee like to catch a
Spy--a real German one?' says he. 'Get along with 'ee, pullin' my
leg!' says I. 'I ben't pullin' your leg,' says he. 'I be offerin'
what may turn out to be the chance o' your life, if you're a smart
chap an' want promotion.' 'What is it?' said I. 'Well, I mention no
names,' said he, 'but you live in the same house with Nicholas
Nanjivell.' 'We're turnin' out this week,' said I. 'All the more
reason why you should look slippy an' get to work at once,' says he.
Then I told him, sir," went on 'Bert, gathering confidence from the
sound of his own voice, "that I was fair sick o' plannin' to do Kind
Actions, which was no business of anybody's in War time, and a bad
let-down after coast-watchin'. 'But,' said I,"--here he turned upon
Nicky-Nan--"'if 'tis a Kind Action for Mr Nanjivell, I'd as lief do
it upon him as upon anybody: for you might almost call him one o' the
family,' I said. 'Kind Action?' says he. 'I don't want you to do
him no kinder action than to catch him out for a German spy. I name
no names,' says he, 'but from information received, he's in the
Germans' pay, an' Mrs Polsue is ready to swear to it.'"
Nicky-Nan gripped his walking-staff and stood erect, as if to spring
on Mr Pamphlett. But of a sudden the enormity of the charge seemed
to overcome him, and he passed a hand over his eyes.
"That's the second time," he muttered. "An' me, that--God help me!--
scarce bothered myself about its bein' a War at all: bein' otherwise
worried, as you'd know, sir." His straight appeal to his inveterate
enemy had a dignity more convincing than any violent repudiation.
But Mr Pamphlett waved it aside.
"Let the boy tell his story. . . . Well, boy, and what was your
answer to the constable?"
"I told him," said 'Bert stolidly, "to get along for a silly
fat-head. Didn't I, now?" 'Bert appealed to the recipient of that
compliment to confirm its textual accuracy.
"He did so," corroborated Rat-it-all. "He is right to that extent.
Which it gave me such a poor opinion of the whole Boy Scout movement
that I've treated it thenceforth as dirt beneath my feet. There was
a time when I thought pretty tolerably of Baden-Powell. But when it
comes to fat-heads--"
"But you see, sir," 'Bert went on, "this put me in mind that I'd seen
Rat-it-all for two days past behavin' very silly behind walls an'
fuzz-bushes, an' 'most always in the wake o' Nicky-Nan--of Mr
Nanjivell, I mean: which I'd set it down that it was a game between
'em, an' Mr Nanjivell just lendin' himself for practice, havin' time
on his hands. First along I'd a mind to join in an' read the man one
or two Practical Hints out o' the sixpenny book; for worse shadowin'
you couldn' see. But when it turned out he was doin' it in earnest
against Mr Nanjivell I allowed as I'd give him a taste o' the real
article, which is what they call 'Scoutin' for Scouts' in the
Advanced Course; whereby he called on Mr Gilbert here, yesterday
afternoon; an' Mr Gilbert's back parlour window bein' open because o'
the hot weather, and me bein' behind the water-butt at the corner--"
"You tarnation imp!" exclaimed the builder.
"Which," continued 'Bert stolidly, "he was askin' if he reckoned by
chance th' Old Doctor's House had any secret hidin' places, an' would
he oblige the landlord Mr Pamphlett by comin' along to-morrow an'
bringin' a hammer? Which I went straight home an' borryed mother's,
an'--an'--"
"An' you've told quite enough," put in 'Beida. "By no means,"
objected Mr Pamphlett. "What have you children done with the money?"
"Oh," said 'Beida wearily, "we're back on the old question, are we?"
But here Nicky-Nan broke in. "Mr Pamphlett," he said, "you tell
that, as landlord, you've a right to walk in an' see to the repairs.
Very well. I don't know the law: but I doubt if the law, when I look
it up, 'll say that the said landlord has power to bring along a
Bobby and a Speckilative Builder. It _may_ be so, o' course.
Any way, you've taken it so, an' walked in; an' the next thing you'll
do is Walk Out." He pointed with his staff to the door. "_Me_--a
German spy! Forth the three of 'ee!"
Mr Pamphlett saw no way but to comply. "You will hear more of this,
Nanjivell," he threatened, turning about in the doorway.
"Gas, again!" said 'Beida. Nicky-Nan stood silent, pointing.
The retreat was not dignified.
"But, o' course," said 'Beida, "the bottom of it all was 'Biades."
"'Biades?"
"He'd caught up with some chatter about your bein' a spy. Oh, bless
your soul, _everybody's_ talkin' about it!" she assured Nicky-Nan
cheerfully. "But little pitchers have the longest ears; an' mother
an' me bein' so busy with the packin', he got ahead of us. He's a
clivver child, too, but"--'Beida shook her head--"I'm harried in mind
about 'en. Quite in a tricksy way he wormed it out o' mother what a
spy was, an' how the way to go to work was to s'arch his cupboards;
an' then quick as snuff he started 'pon yours, not sayin' a word to
anybody. Pretty clivver for four years' old--an' what's clivverer,
he found the money too!"
"Damn the young viper! . . . No, I asks your pardon. Bless his
tender heart, I s'pose I ought to say, seein' as how providential--"
"You can put it which way you like. I dessay God A'mighty has the
right an' wrong of it clear; an' 'Bert an' I allowed we'd leave
'Biades to a Higher Power after we'd made him sensible, on the seat
of his breeches, of the way his conduc' appealed to us. For I take
shame to own it, Mr Nanjivell, but at sight o' that boundless
gold Satan whispered in the poor mite's ear, an' he started priggin'.
. . . The way we found it out was, he came home from Mrs Pengelly's
stinkin' o' peppermints: an' when we nosed him an' asked how he came
to be favoured so, all he could say on the ground hop was that he'd
met a shinin' Angel unexpected in Cobb's Ally: an' the Angel had
stopped him and pulled out a purse an' said, 'Alcibiades Penhaligon,
the Lord has been much interested of late in your goin's-out an' your
comin's-in, an' what a good boy you've a-been. Here is 2d. for you
in gold o' the purest water. Go thou an' carry it to Our good friend
Missis Pengelly, who will doubtless reckernise and exchange it in
peppermint cushions.' Which was too thin. So we were forced to beat
him till the truth came out. An' then he brought us here, an' showed
what he'd a-found: an' with the furnitcher movin' an' mother so busy,
'Bert and I managed the rest. We weren't goin' to let that Pamphlett
snatch it. If you'll come around by Aun' Bunney's back-garden into
Mother's kitchen you shall count it out, every penny."
"'Bert," said Nicky-Nan after a pause, "you've done a Kind Action
this day, if you never do another."
"But the clivverness started with 'Biades," insisted 'Beida. "I hope
you'll bear that in mind, though I say nothing against the child's
sinfulness."
"You're the best friends, all three, I ever met in this world," said
Nicky-Nan gratefully.
On his homeward road, and half-way up the hill, Mr Pamphlett at the
same moment turned, looked aloft, and accused Providence.
"What blisters me," said Mr Pamphlett to the welkin, "is the thought
that I subscribed no less than two guineas to the Boy Scouts
Movement!"