Captain Wopper accepted the invitation heartily, and thought, though he said nothing, that it was indeed a poor table, seeing that the only food on it besides the very weak tea in the wonderfully small pot, consisted of one small loaf of bread.
Netta, exclaimed Mrs Roby, with a look of surprise, theres no butter! Go, fetch it, dear.
Mrs Roby was, or thought herself, a remarkably deep character. She spoke to Netta openly, but, in secret, bestowed a meaning glance on her, and slipped a small coin into her hand. The dirty, sweet-faced damsel replied by a remarkably knowing winkall of which by-play, with the reason for it, was as clear to Captain Wopper as if it had been elaborately explained to him. But the Captain was a discreet man. He became deeply absorbed in daguerreotypes and sauce-pan lids above the fireplace, to the exclusion of all else.
Youve forgotten the bag, maam, said the Captain, drawing his chair nearer the table.
So I have; dear me, what is it? cried Mrs Roby, taking it up. Its heavy.
Gold! said the Captain.
Gold? exclaimed the old nurse.
Ay, nuggets, said the seaman, opening it and emptying its contents on the table.
As the old nurse gazed on the yellow heap her black eyes glittered with pleasure, as though they had derived additional lustre from the precious metal, and she drew them towards her with a trembling, almost greedy, motion, at sight of which Captain Woppers countenance became troubled.
And did Willie send this to me, dear boy?
He did, maam, hoping that it would be of use in the way of making your home more comfortable, and enabling you to keep a better table.
He glanced uneasily round the poor room and at the small loaf as he spoke, and the old woman observed the glance.
It is very kind of him, very kind, continued Mrs Roby. What may it be worth, now?
Forty pounds, more or less, answered the Captain.
Again the old womans eyes sparkled greedily, and again the seamans countenance fell.
Surely, maam, said the Captain, gravely, things must be uncommon dear in London, for you tell me that Willum has sent you a deal of money in time past, but you dont seem to be much the better for it.
Captain Wopper, said Mrs Roby, putting her hand lightly on the Captains arm as it lay on the table, and looking earnestly into his face, if you had not been an old and valued friend of my dear Williewhich I learn that you are from his letterI would have said your remark was a rude one; but, being what you are, I dont mind telling you that I save up every penny I can scrape together for little Netta White, the girl that has just gone out to fetch the butter. Although shes not well cared for,owing to her mother, whos a washerwoman, bein overburdened with work and a drunken husband,shes one of the dearest creeters I ever did see. Bless you, sir, youd be amazed if you knew all the kind and thoughtful things that untrained and uncared for child does, and never thinks shes doing anything more than other people. Its all along of her mothers spirit, which is as good as gold. Some months ago Little Netta happened to be up here when I was at tea, and, seeing the difficulty I had to move about with my old rheumatic limbs, she said shed come and set out my tea and breakfast for me; and shes done it, sir, from that time to this, expecting nothing fur it, and thinking Im too poor to give her anything. But shes mistaken, continued Mrs Roby, with a triumphant twinkle in her black eyes, she doesnt know that Ive made a confidant of her brother Gillie, and give him a sixpence now and then to give to his mother without telling where he got it, and she doesnt know that Im saving up to be able to leave something to her when Im called homeit cant be long, now; it cant be long.
Old ooman, cried Captain Wopper, whose face had brightened wonderfully during this explanation, give us your flipyour hand. I honour your heart, maam, and Ive no respect whatever for your brain!
Im not sure that thats a compliment, said Mrs Roby, with a smile.
Captain Wopper assured her with much solemnity that it might or might not be a compliment, but it was a fact. Why, look here, said he, you go and starve yourself, and deny yourself all sorts of little comfortswhat then? Why, youll die long before your time, which is very like taking the law into your own hands, maam, and then you wont leave to Netta nearly as much as you might if you had taken care of yourself and lived longer, and saved up after a reasonable fashion. Its sheer madness. Why, maam, youre starving now, but Ill put a stop to that. Dont you mind, now, whether Im rude or not. You cant expect anything else from an old gold-digger, who has lived for years where there were no women except such as appeared to be made of mahogany, with nothing to cover em but a coating of dirt and a blue skirt. Besides, Willum told me at parting to look after you and see that you wanted for nothing, which I promised faithfully to do. Youve some regard for Willums wishes, maam?you wouldnt have me break my promises to Willum, would you?
The Captain said this with immense rapidity and vigour, and finished it with such a blow of his heavy fist on the little table that the cups and plates danced, and the lid of the little tea-pot leaped up as if its heart were about to come out of its mouth. Mrs Roby was so taken by surprise that she could not speak for a few seconds, and before she had recovered sufficiently to do so, Little Netta came in with the butter.
Now, maam, resumed the Captain, when the girl had retired, heres where it is. With your leave Ill reveal my plans to you, and ask your advice. When I was about to leave Californy, Willum told me first of all to go and find you out, and give you that letter and bag of nuggets, which Ive done. Then, says he, Wopper, you go and find out my brother Jims widow, and give em my love an dooty, and this letter, and this bag of nuggets,said letter and bag, maam, bein now in my chest aboard ship. So, says I, Willum, I willtrust me. I do, says he; and, Wopper, says he, keep your weather eye open, my boy, wen you go to see em, because Ive my suspicions, from what my poor brother said on his deathbed, when he was wandering in his mind, that his widow is extravagant. I dont know, Willum goes on to say, what the son may be, but theres that cousin, Emma Gray, that lives in the house with em, shes all right. Shes corresponded with me, off an on, since ever she could write, and my brother bein something lazy, poor fellar, through havin too much to do I fancy, got to throw all the letter-writin on her shoulders. You take special note of her, Wopper, and if it should seem to you that they dont treat her well, you let me know. Willum, says I, I willtrust me. Well, then, says Willum, theres one other individooal I want you to ferret out, thats the gentlemanhe must be an old gentleman nowthat saved my life when I was a lad, Mr Lawrence by name. You try to find him out and if you can do him a good turn, do it. Willum, says I, Ill do ittrust me. I do, says he, and when may I expect you back in Californy, Wopper? Willum, says I, that depends. True, says he, it does. Give us youre flipper, old boy, we may never meet again in these terrestrial diggings. Good luck to you. Dont forget my last will an testimony as now expressed. Willum, says I, I wont. So, maam, I left Californy with a sacred trust, so to speak, crossed the sea, and here I am.
At this point Captain Wopper, having warmed in his subject, took in at one bite as much of the small loaf as would have been rather a heavy dinner for Mrs Roby, and emptied at one gulp a full cup of her tea, after which he stroked his beard, smiled benignantly at his hostess, became suddenly earnest again, and went onchewing as he spoke.
Now, maam, Ive three questions to ask: in the first place, as its not possible now to do a good turn to old Mr Lawrence, I must do it to his son. Can you tell me where he lives?
Mrs Roby told him that it was in a street not far from where they sat, in a rather poor lodging.
Secondly, maam, can you tell me where Willums sister-in-law lives,Mrs Stout, alias Stoutley?
No, Captain Wopper, but I daresay Mr Lawrence can. He knows most everythink, and has a London Directory.
Good. Now, in the third place, where am I to find a lodging?
Mrs Roby replied that there were plenty to be found in London of all kinds.
You havent a spare room here, have you? said the Captain, looking round.
Mrs Roby shook her head and said that she had not; and, besides, that if she had, it would be impossible for her to keep a lodger, as she had no servant, and could not attend on him herself.
Mrs Roby, said the Captain, a gold-digging seaman dont want no servant, nor no attendance. Whats up aloft?
By pointing to a small trap-door in the ceiling, he rendered the question intelligible.
Its a garret, I believe, replied Mrs Roby, smiling; but having no ladder, Ive never been up.
Youve no objection to my taking a look, have you? asked the Captain.
None in the world, replied the old woman. Without more ado the seaman rose, mounted on a chair, pushed open the trap-door, thrust his head and shoulders through, and looked round. Apparently the inspection was not deemed sufficiently close, for, to the old womans alarm and inexpressible surprise, he seized the edges of the hole with his strong hands, raised himself up, and finally disappeared in the regions above! The alarm of the old woman was somewhat increased by the sound of her visitors heavy tread on the boards overhead as he stumbled about. Presently his head appeared looking down through the trap. In any aspect, Captain Woppers shaggy head was an impressive one; but viewed in an upside-down position, with the blood running into it, it was peculiarly striking.
I say, old lady, he shouted, as if his position recalled the action and induced the tones of a boatswain, itll do. A capital berth, with two portholes and a bunk.
The Captains head disappeared, and immediately his legs took its place, suggesting the outrageous idea that he had thrown a somersault. Next moment his huge body slid down, and he stood on the floor much flushed and covered with dust.
Now, old girl, is it to be? he said, sitting down at the table. Will you take me as a lodger, for better and for worse? Ill fit up the berth on the main-deck, and be my own servant as well as yours. Say the word.
I can refuse nothing to Willies friend, said old Mrs Roby, but really I
Done, its a bargain, interrupted the Captain, rising abruptly. Now, Ill go visit young Mr Lawrence and Mrs Stoutley, and to-morrow Ill bring my kit, take possession of my berth, and you and I shall sail in company, I hope, and be messmates for some time to come.
Chapter Three.
Difficulties among the Social Summits
In one of the many mansions of the west end of London, a lady reclined one morning on a sofa wishing that it were afternoon. She was a middle-aged, handsome, sickly lady. If it had been afternoon she would have wished that it were evening, and if it had been evening she would have wished for the morning; for Mrs Stoutley was one of those languid invalids whose enjoyment appears to be altogether in the future or the past, and who seem to have no particular duties connected with the present except sighing and wishing. It may be that this unfortunate condition of mind had something to do with Mrs Stoutleys feeble state of health. If she had been a little more thoughtful about others, and less mindful of herself, she might, perhaps, have sighed and wished less, and enjoyed herself more. At all events her doctor seemed to entertain some such opinion, for, sitting in an easy chair beside her, and looking earnestly at her handsome, worn-out countenance, he said, somewhat abruptly, being a blunt doctor.
You must go abroad, madam, and try to get your mind, as well as your body, well shaken up.
Why, doctor, replied Mrs Stoutley, with a faint smile; you talk of me as if I were a bottle of physic or flat ginger-beer.
You are little better, silly woman, thought the doctor, but his innate sense of propriety induced him only to say, with a smile, Well, there is at least this much resemblance between you and a bottle of flat ginger-beer, namely, that both require to be made to effervesce a little. It will never do to let your spirits down as you have been doing. We must brighten up, my dear madamnot Brighton up, by the way, weve had enough of Brighton and Bath, and such places. We must get away to the Continent this summerto the Pyrenees, or Switzerland, where we can breathe the fresh mountain air, and ramble on glaciers, and have a thorough change.
Mrs Stoutley looked gently, almost pitifully at the doctor while he spoke, as if she thought him a well-meaning and impulsive, but rather stupid maniac.
Impossible, my dear doctor, she said; you know I could not stand the fatigues of such a journey.
Well, then, replied the doctor, abruptly, you must stop at home and die.
Oh! what a shocking naughty man you are to talk so.
Mrs Stoutley said this, however, with an easy good-natured air, which showed plainly that she did not believe her illness likely to have such a serious termination.
I will be still more naughty and shocking, continued the doctor, resolutely, but with a twinkle in his eyes, for I shall prescribe not only a dose of mountain air, but a dose of mountain exercise, to be takenand the patient to be well shaken while takenevery morning throughout the summer and autumn. Moreover, after you return to England, you must continue the exercise during the winter; and, in addition to that, must have an object at the end of your walks and drivesnot shopping, observe, that is not a sufficiently out-of-door object; nor visiting your friends, which is open to the same objection.
Mrs Stoutley smiled again at this, and said that really, if visiting and shopping were forbidden, there seemed to be nothing left but museums and picture-galleries.
To this the doctor retorted that although she might do worse than visit museums and picture-galleries, he would prefer that she should visit the diamond and gold fields of the city.
Did you ever hear of the diamond and gold fields of London, Miss Gray? he said, turning to a plain yet pretty girl, who had been listening in silence to the foregoing conversation.
Never, answered Miss Gray, with a look of surprise.
Now, Miss Grays look of surprise induces us to state in passing that this young ladyniece, also poor relation and companion, to Mrs Stoutleypossessed three distinct aspects. When grave, she was plain,not ugly, observe; a girl of nineteen, with a clear healthy complexion and nut-brown hair, cannot in any circumstances be ugly; no, she was merely plain when grave. When she smiled she was decidedly pretty, and when she laughed she was captivatingabsolutely irresistible! She seldom laughed, occasionally smiled, and was generally grave. There was something quite incomprehensible about her, for she was not an unusually good girl, and by no means a dashing girl, neither was she an intensely modest girland yet, plain Emma Gray had perhaps driven more young men into a condition of drivelling imbecility than any acknowledged beauty of the metropolis.