AN ADVENTURE IN LONDON.
The next day Sharpley took advantage of Mr. Tarbox's temporary absence
from the hotel to hurry Frank off to the London train.
"I hope we have seen the last of that intrusive Yankee," said Sharpley
to our hero, when they were fairly installed in the railway carriage.
"I should like to have bidden him good-by," said Frank.
"You can associate with him as much as you like after we have parted
company," said Sharpley. "But, for my part, I don't want to see
anything of him."
"I wonder what makes him so prejudiced," thought Frank. "It can't be
because he is a Yankee, for I am a Yankee, myself, and yet he takes the
trouble of looking after me."
Sharpley was not very social. He bought a paper, and spent most of the
time in reading.
But Frank did not find the time hang heavily upon his hands. He was in
England, that was his glad thought. On either side, as the train sped
along, was spread out a beautiful English landscape, and his eyes were
never tired of watching it.
To Sharpley there was no novelty in the scene. He had enough to think
of in his past life--enough to occupy his mind in planning how to carry
out his present wicked designs upon the life of the innocent boy at his
side.
At last they reached London, and drove in a hansom to a quiet hotel,
located in one of the streets leading from the Strand, a business
thoroughfare well known to all who have ever visited the great
metropolis.
"How long are we going to stay in London, Colonel Sharpley?" asked
Frank.
"Two or three days. I can't tell exactly how long."
"That will be rather a short time to see so large a city," returned
Frank, considerably disappointed.
"I am in a hurry to go to the continent," was the reply. "We can stop
here longer on our return."
With this Frank was forced to be content, though he would have
preferred to remain in London long enough now to see the principal
objects of interest.
There was, he could not help remarking, a considerable difference in
Colonel Sharpley's manner from that which he exhibited when he first
called upon his step-father. Then he was very social and agreeable; now
he was taciturn, and at times sullen and irritable. Whatever the reason
might be, the change was very marked.
"Perhaps he has some business that annoys him," thought Frank,
charitably. "I will give him as little trouble as possible. But for
his kind offer, I should not have my present chance of seeing foreign
countries."
The next morning Sharpley said:
"Frank, you must wander around by yourself, as I have business to
attend to."
"All right, sir," said Frank.
In fact, he was rather pleased with the idea of finding his own way in
the great city of which he had heard so much, and which he had just
entered as a stranger. He felt a little like the celebrated explorer,
Dr. Livingstone, as he set out to explore a region as new and blind to
him as the mysterious tracts of Central Africa to the older traveler.
But he had this advantage over the eminent doctor, that, whereas the
latter had no maps or charts to guide him, he was able for the small
sum of an English shilling, or about twenty-five cents, to obtain a map
of London.
When his eye glanced for the first time over the labyrinth, he felt
bewildered and lost, but after a short time he made up his mind what
course to take, and found his way to Charing Cross, and from thence to
Piccadilly, Rupert Street, and the parks.
Time flew by, and in the delight of the ever-recurring novelty, he
found that it was two o'clock.
He stepped into a pastry-cook's to get some lunch.
Then he hailed a passing stage, and rode a long distance, but whether
he was near or far from his hotel he could not tell.
He decided to leave the stage, and inquire in some shop near by where
he was, and then, by examining his map, ascertain the most direct
course to his hotel.
As he reached the sidewalk, a little girl of ten years, apparently,
with a thin, sad face, fixed her eyes upon him. She said nothing, but
there was a mute appeal in her look which Frank, who was by nature
compassionate, could not resist.
"What is the matter, little girl?" he asked.
"Mother is sick, and we have nothing to eat," answered the little girl,
sorrowfully.
"Have you no father?"
"He has gone away."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Has your mother been sick long?"
"She made herself sick working so hard to buy us bread."
"Then you are not the only child," inquired Frank.
"I have a little sister, four years old."
"How old are you?"
"I am ten."
"What is your name?"
"Alice Craven."
The announcement of her name made Frank start.
"What!" he exclaimed, for, except his step-father, he had never till
now met anyone by that name.
"Alice Craven," answered the little girl, supposing he had not
understood aright.
"Where does your mother live?" asked Frank.
"In Hurst court."
"Is it far from here?"
"Only about five minutes' walk."
"I will go with you," said Frank, with sudden resolution, "and if I
find your mother is as badly off as you say, I will give you something."
"Come, then, sir; I will show you the way."
Frank followed the little girl till he found himself in a miserable
court, shut in by wretched tenements. Alice entered one of the
dirtiest of these, and Frank followed her up a rickety staircase to the
fourth floor. Here, his guide opened a door and led the way into a dark
room, almost bare of furniture, where, upon a bed in the corner, lay a
wan, attenuated woman. Beside her sat the little girl of four to whom
Alice had referred.
"Mother," said Alice, "here is a kind young gentleman, who has come to
help us."
"Heaven bless him!" said the woman, feebly. "We are in dire want of
help."
"How long have you been sick?" asked Frank, compassionately.
"It is long since I have been well," answered the invalid, "but I have
been able to work till two weeks since. For two weeks I have earned
nothing, and, but for the neighbors, I and my two poor children would
have starved."
"Is your husband dead?"
"I do not know. He left me three years ago, and I have never seen him
since."
"Did he desert you?" asked Frank, indignantly. "Did he leave you to
shift for yourself?"
"He promised to come back, but he has never come," said the woman,
sighing.
"Your little girl tells me your name is Craven."
"Yes, sir. That is my husband's name."
"I know a gentleman by that name."
"Where?" asked the invalid, eagerly.
"In America. But it cannot be your husband," he added, quickly, not
caring to excite hope in the poor woman's breast, only to be succeeded
by disappointment, "for he has a wife there. I didn't know but it might
be your husband's brother."
"My husband had no brother," said the woman, sinking back, her
momentary hope extinguished. "Oh, if he only knew how hard it has been
for me to struggle for food for these poor children, he would surely
come back."
Frank's heart was filled with pity. He drew from his pocket two gold
sovereigns, and placed them in the hands of Alice.
"It won't last you long," he said, "but it will give you some relief."
"Bless you, bless you!" said the invalid, gratefully. "It will keep us
till I am well again and can work for my children. What is your name,
generous, noble boy?"
"Frank Hunter," said our hero, modestly; "but don't think too much of
what I have done. I shall fare no worse for parting with this money."
"I will remember you in my prayers," said Mrs. Craven. "So young and so
generous!"
"Give me your address, Mrs. Craven, and when I am in London again I
will come and see you."
"No. 10 Hurst Court," said the invalid.
"I will put it down."
Frank now left the court, and, as it was late, hailed a cab, and was
soon set down in front of his hotel.
"Where have you been so long," asked Sharpley. "It is past three
o'clock."
"I went about seeing the sights," said Frank. "I saw the parks, and
Buckingham Palace, and Regent Street; but I have just left a poor woman
who was very destitute, whom I visited in her miserable room. Oddly
enough, her name was Craven."
"Craven," repeated Sharpley, his attention at once roused.
"Yes; she had two children, the oldest, Alice, a girl of ten."
"Great Heaven!" ejaculated Sharpley.
Frank looked at him in surprise.
"I daresay they were humbugs," said Sharpley. "Did you give them any
money?"
"Two sovereigns; but I am sure they were not humbugs."
"'A fool and his money are soon parted,'" sneered Sharpley. "Where did
you find them?"
"No. 10 Hurst Court."
"I advise you not to be so ready to part with your money the next time.
I'll wager they are imposters."
"What cursed chance brought him in contact with these people?" said
Sharpley to himself after Frank had left him to arrange his toilet. "He
little dreams that the woman he has relieved is the true wife of the
man who has married his mother."