THE LINK'S LAST APPEARANCE.
IT is not forgotten that Mr. Nicholas Crips was a man of amatory
instincts; he had a very warm if not particularly sincere regard for the
sex, and in his brighter moments, when a relapse from his natural
dilatoriness induced him to have a clean-shave, a perfunctory combing,
and a general trimming-up, ladies of a certain class approaching the
middle-ages found him not wholly forbidding.
Nickie's close application to an artistic career as the leading feature
of Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels had lifted him out of what had
become an habitual impecuniosity, and in his brief unprofessional moments
he wore a whole suit and boots that did not openly advertise his sockless
condition.
In addition, Nickie was leading a fairly fat and easy life; he had put on
condition; he was quite at his best; and a flirtatious matron might have
found him a fairly presentable person. Madame Marve, the Egyptian Mystic,
was a good wife to Professor Thunder, and a good mother to Letitia,
according to the lights of show people at the conventions of the game,
but she was still young enough to appreciate genuine admiration, and had
sufficient of the vanity of the profession to roll a lively, dark eye for
effect now and again.
Naturally, the lively, dark eye rolled in Nickie's direction once in a
way, and Nickie responded with the beams of a tender, grey orb. He had a
way of languishing a little when only Madame Marve was near, and he
breathed sighs of simple eloquence.
Mr. Nicholas Crips had the primitive instincts of the pure individualist;
fine notions of honour and delicate concepts of propriety had no
influence on his modes of conduct.
It may be inferred in these circumstances that Mr. Crips had no
compunction, about coveting his neighbour's wife.
Madame Marve had a light heart and a plump waist, She did not take
Nickie's advances very seriously, but she found a certain piquancy in the
situation, and was not above a reciprocal sigh or a responsive hand
pressure.
This unlooked-for development in the internal economy of the Museum of
Marvels might have provided Professor Thunder's patrons some amazing
novelties had they been permitted peeps behind the scenes. For instance,
there were occasions when the public was deaf to Professor Thunder's
appeals, and resolutely passed by on the other side. On such occasions
the Egyptian Mystic might have been discovered in the small, back tent,
with white, well-shaped arms bare to the shoulder, busily engaged
fabricating an Irish stew for the evening meal. The Museum was very
partial to Irish stew, even the Living Skeleton liked the smell of it.
Ten to one the Missing Link would be found hovering about Madame at such
a time, garbed in his simian costume, but with the mask-like make-up
turned back, exposing Nickie's florid countenance and rakish grin.
Possibly at such moments Nickie would presume to squeeze Madame's waist.
He might even venture to steal a kiss. If so, Madame's protest might be
forcible, but it would not be vindictive.
Madame was not disposed to quarrel with Nickie; he was a profitable
adjunct; the Museum had never possessed so versatile a missing link, and,
as for a little philandering--pooh, it was all in a lifetime.
The tents were pitched at Catcat. The situation was similar to that
described above, but Professor Thunder had the bad taste to intrude when
Nickie was in the act of forcibly extracting a kiss in revenge. Madame
Marve having playfully covered him with flour.
Professor Thunder was a jealous man, and an inflammatory one. He uttered
a roar that would not have discredited the Missing Link in its native
jungle in the wilds of Darkest Africa.
"You infernal blackguard!" he yelled.
"Now, Jim," cried Madame Marve in sudden alarm, standing between the men
with her paste pin.
"Out of my way, woman!" cried the Professor, tossing her aside.
Professor Thunder fell upon Nicholas Crips, and smote him hip and thigh.
He was not content to smite--he kicked. He kicked hard--and often. His
fury increased with the measures he took to wreak it.
"Jim! Jim!" pleaded Madame Marve, "you'll ruin the skin."
The Missing Link's skin was an expensive item, but the Professor forgot
his cupidity in vindicating himself as an outraged husband. He continued
to kick, and then, taking Nickie by the scruff and the back, he rushed
him from the tent, and pitched him headlong into the garish day.
There were a few youths and half a score of children loitering about.
Fortunately, the mask-like structure covering Nickie's nose, cheeks and
chin, had fallen into place, and what the loiterers saw was infuriated
man kicking a gigantic monkey, and assailing him with vehement profanity.
The sight was sufficiently amazing. The children fled, screaming, to
carry the astonishing news through the township. The youths stood off and
yelled.
The Missing Link rolled to some distance, and backed against a tree.
"Don't show your nose inside my show again, you dirty crawler!" said the
great entrepreneur. "If you do, by the Lord Harry, I'll break every bone
in your body."
People were coming from all directions, and a small crowd had already
gathered from the adjacent houses. The inhabitants of Catcat drew as near
as they dared, and gazed in open-mouthed amazement from Thunder to the
Missing Link.
"I'll teach you to come creepin' and sneakin' into a man's home, tryin'
t' ruin his happiness," the Professor roared, and he made another dash at
Nickie.
The Missing Link slipped round the tree, and Madame Marve caught her
husband, by the arm and dragged him hack.
"What's he done, mister?" asked a bystander.
"What's he done?" bellowed Thunder, the actor instinct in him coming out
strongly. "What's he done, sir? This infamous scoundrel has tried to
wreck my home, sir, to blight my peace of mind."
"What, th' bloomin' Missing Link?"
"Yes, sir, the perfidious Missing Link; the ungrateful Missing Link that
I warmed in this bosom, and that has turned and stung the hand that fed
him. But now I know all, the villain is unmasked, and if the slimy trail
of the serpent enters the abode of peace again, by Heaven! I'll beat the
life out of him."
A crowd had now collected, and when Madame Marve dragged her husband into
the tent all attention was turned upon Nickie, who cowered against the
tree, his mind busy on a way out of the peculiarly unpleasant situation.
Thunder was still storming inside, and presently he reappeared, and
hurled an armful of shirts, boots, trousers and other human habiliments
into the air. These were the belongings of Nicholas Crips.
The people of Catcat maintained a respectful distance, not knowing for
certain what so formidable an animal might do next.
"Better mind out," said one youth; "he bites! He bit the bloke inside.
Didn't yeh 'ear him say?"
On the whole the attitude towards the Missing Link was hostile. It was
felt that here was a dangerous brute at large. Several armed themselves
with stones and sticks. Inside Professor Thunder was still raving to
drown Madame's rational arguments. Twice he burst into the open with
fresh invectives for Nickie, and some trifling piece of dress or property
to hurl at him; but Madame Marve and the Living Skeleton hung on his
coat-tails and dragged him back.
Nickie had a thought of lifting his mask and letting his humanity be
known to the crowd, but there were many present who had paid to see the
show, and these might take it into their heads to resent the imposition.
Besides, Professor Thunder might relent. On the whole, it seemed better
to await developments. Crouched against the tree, the Missing Link
glowered at the people. If they came too near, he bared his fangs and
growled ominously, and the venturesome ones backed away precipitately.
Somebody threw a clod of earth, and it smote Mahdi on the side of the
head. The Missing Link sprang towards the crowd with a fearful cry. His
antics were most alarming. The people ran, but they edged back again, and
another clod thrown. Then came a stone. A second stone hit Nickie on the
shin, and with a yell of pain he took cover behind the butt.
There was a burst of laughter from the crowd, and a rush for stones.
Missiles fell about Nickie in a shower. Suddenly the situation had
assumed a dangerous complexion. The crowd opened in a circle to get at
the monster; stones rattled about his head.
With a horse cry, with eyes rolling and teeth bared in a shocking
grimace, the Missing Link dashed at the spot where the circle was
weakest, broke through, and went bounding up the township's single
street.
Believing now that the great monkey was afraid, the crowd trooped after
him, yelling as they ran, snatching up stones and other missiles from the
road. Terror lent wings to the Missing Link. He raced up the dusty road
in the white heat of a blinding summer day, and the stones flew about him
as he ran.
Those of the inhabitants of Catcat who had had no hint of the partial
disruption of Thunder's unparalleled show ran to their doors, and beheld
the hunt with speechless wonder. They saw a huge, monkey-like creature
speeding up the street, pursued and pelted by a clamorous throng.
Nickie's physical condition was not good, he was ill-trained for a
footrace, his wind was bad; he felt that he must presently succumb, and
then Constable Daniel Mack loomed before him as a possible saviour.
Constable Mack had stepped from Hogan's store, drawn forth by the yells
of the pack. He looked and beheld a terrific creature rushing towards
him, erect like a man, but covered with thick, short, reddish hair, and
displaying a face of demoniacal ugliness. Constable Mack had his good
points; one of them an appreciation of the fact that discretion is the
better part of valour. He turned to run for his valuable life, but too
late; the monster was upon him, it grappled with him, it hung on, and the
pair rolled in the dust together.
The zealous and intelligent officer thought his last day had come, but
awoke presently to the knowledge that no harm was being done, and a voice
was crying crying in his ear:
"For God's sake, run me in! Arrest me! They'll kill me!"
Constable Mack sat up in the dust, and stared stupidly at the Missing
Link.
"Blarst me if it ain't Perfessor Thunder's man-monkey!" he said.
"Yes, yes," gasped Nickie. "Run me in. Be quick about it."
The crowd was forming about them, only refraining from using missiles out
of respect for the law.
"Be th' holy, th' baste can spheak!" murmured the policemen.
"They'll kill me. Put me in the cell," pleaded the Missing Link.
"Troth an' I will," answered Mack; "but niver a one iv me knows iv ut's
lagel arristin' monkeys."
Nickie was run in. Next morning he appeared to answer a charge of
insulting behaviour, inciting a breach of the peace, and assaulting the
police. Thanks to Matty Cann, a change of raiment was made in the cell,
and Nickie Crips appeared in court in his proper person, and was fined
two pounds.
Nicholas Crips paid his fine, collected his belongings from the Museum of
Marvels, and went forth into the great world again, a man amongst men.
His career as an artist was ended.