The Hole in the Wall Read online

  CHAPTER VIII

  STEPHEN'S TALE

  I found it quite true that one might eat the loose sugar wherever hejudged it clean enough--as most of it was. And nothing but GrandfatherNat's restraining hand postponed my first bilious attack.

  Thus it was that I made acquaintance with the Highway, and with theLondon Docks, in their more picturesque days, and saw and delighted in athousand things more than I can write. Port was drunk then, and hundredsof great pipes lay in rows on a wide quay where men walked with woodenclubs, whacking each pipe till the "shive" or wooden bung sprang intothe air, to be caught with a dexterity that pleased me like a conjuringtrick. And many a thirsty dock-labourer, watching his opportunity, wouldcut a strip of bread from his humble dinner as he strolled near a pipe,and, absorbed in the contemplation of the indefinite empyrean, absentlydip his sippet into the shive-hole as he passed; recovering it in astate so wet and discoloured that its instant consumption wasimperative.

  And so at last we came away from the docks by the thoroughfare thencalled Tanglefoot Lane; not that that name, or anything like it, waspainted at the corner; but because it was the road commonly taken byvisitors departing from the wine-vaults after bringing tasting-orders.

  As we passed Blue Gate on our way home, I saw, among those standing atthe corner, a coarse-faced, untidy woman, talking to a big, bony-lookingman with a face so thin and mean that it seemed misplaced on suchshoulders. The woman was so much like a score of others then in sight,that I should scarce have noted her, were it not that she and the manstopped their talk as we passed, with a quick look, first at mygrandfather, and then one at the other; and then the man turned his backand walked away. Presently the woman came after us, walking quickly,glancing doubtfully at Grandfather Nat as she passed; and at last, aftertwice looking back, she turned and waited for us to come up.

  "Beg pardon, Cap'en Kemp," she said in a low, but a very thick voice,"but might I speak to you a moment, sir?"

  My grandfather looked at her sharply. "Well," he said, "what is it?"

  "In regards to a man as sold you a watch las' night----"

  "No," Grandfather Nat interrupted with angry decision, "he didn't."

  "Beg pardon, sir, jesso sir--'course not; which I mean to say 'e sold itto a man near to your 'ouse. Is it brought true as that party--notmeanin' you, sir, 'course not, but the party in the street near your'ouse--is it brought true as that party'll buy somethink more--somethinkas I needn't tell now, sir, p'raps, but somethink spoke of between thatparty an' the other party--I mean the party as sold it, an' don't meanyou, sir, 'course not?"

  It was plain that the woman, who had begun in trepidation, was confusedand abashed the more by the hard frown with which Captain Nat regardedher. The frown persisted for some moments; and then my grandfather said:"Don't know what you mean. If somebody bought anything of a friend o'yours, an' your friend wants to sell him something else, I suppose hecan take it to him, can't he? And if it's any value, there's no reasonhe shouldn't buy it, so far as I know." And Grandfather Nat strode on.

  The woman murmured some sort of acknowledgment, and fell back, and in amoment I had forgotten her; though I remembered her afterward, for goodreason enough.

  In fact, it was no later than that evening. I was sitting in thebar-parlour with Grandfather Nat, who had left the bar to the care ofthe potman. My grandfather was smoking his pipe, while I spelled andsought down the narrow columns of _Lloyd's List_ for news of my father'sship. It was my grandfather's way to excuse himself from reading, whenhe could, on the plea of unsuitable eyes; though I suspect that, apartfrom his sight, he found reading a greater trouble than he was pleasedto own.

  "There's nothing here about the _Juno_, Grandfather Nat," I said."Nothing anywhere."

  "Ah," said my grandfather, "La Guaira was the last port, an' we mustkeep eyes on the list for Barbadoes. Maybe the mail's late." Most ofLloyd's messages came by mail at that time. "Let's see," he went on;"Belize, La Guaira, Barbadoes"; and straightway began to figure outdistances and chances of wind.

  Grandfather Nat had been considering whether or not we should write tomy father to tell him that my mother was dead, and he judged that therewas little chance of any letter reaching the _Juno_ on her homewardpassage.

  "Belize, La Guaira, Barbadoes," said Grandfather Nat, musingly. "It'sthe rough reason thereabout, an' it's odds she may be blown out of hercourse. But the mail----"

  He stopped and turned his head. There was a sudden stamp of feet outsidethe door behind us, a low and quick voice, a heavy thud against thedoor, and then a cry--a dreadful cry, that began like a stifled screamand ended with a gurgle.

  Grandfather Nat reached the door at a bound, and as he flung it wide aman came with it and sank heavily at his feet, head and one shoulderover the threshold, and an arm flung out stiffly, so that the old manstumbled across it as he dashed at a dark shadow without.

  I was hard at my grandfather's heels, and in a flash of time I saw thatanother man was rising from over the one on the doorsill. But for thestumble Grandfather Nat would have had him. In that moment's check thefellow spun round and dashed off, striking one of the great posts withhis shoulder, and nearly going down with the shock.

  All was dark without, and what I saw was merely confused by the lightfrom the bar-parlour. My grandfather raised a shout and rushed in thewake of the fugitive, toward the stairs, and I, too startled and tooexcited to be frightened yet, skipped over the stiff arm to follow him.At the first step I trod on some object which I took to be mygrandfather's tobacco-pouch, snatched it up, and stuffed it in my jacketpocket as I ran. Several men from the bar were running in the passage,and down the stairs I could hear Captain Nat hallooing across the river.

  "Ahoy!" came a voice in reply. "What's up?" And I could see the fire ofa purl-boat coming in.

  "Stop him, Bill!" my grandfather shouted. "Stop him! Stabbed a man! He'sgot my boat, and there's no sculls in this damned thing! Gone round thembarges!"

  And now I could distinguish my grandfather in a boat, paddlingdesperately with a stretcher, his face and his shirt-sleeves touchedwith the light from the purl-man's fire.

  The purl-boat swung round and shot off, and presently other boats camepulling by, with shouts and questions. Then I saw Grandfather Nat, ablack form merely, climbing on a barge and running and skipping alongthe tier, from one barge to another, calling and directing, till I couldsee him no more. There were many men on the stairs by this time, andothers came running and jostling; so I made my way back to thebar-parlour door.

  It was no easy thing to get in here, for a crowd was gathering. But aman from the bar who recognised me made a way, and as soon as I hadpushed through the crowd of men's legs I saw that the injured man waslying on the floor, tended by the potman; while Mr. Cripps, his facepallid under the dirt, and his nose a deadly lavender, stood by, withhis mouth open and his hands dangling aimlessly.

  * * * * *

  The stabbed man lay with his head on a rolled-up coat of mygrandfather's, and he was bad for a child to look at. His face had gonetallowy; his eyes, which turned (and frightened me) as I came in, werenow directed steadily upward; he breathed low and quick, and though Joethe potman pressed cloths to the wound in his chest, there was bloodabout his lips and chin, and blood bubbled dreadfully in his mouth. Butwhat startled me most, and what fixed my regard on his face despite mytremors, so that I could scarce take my eyes from it, was the fact that,paleness and blood and drawn cheeks notwithstanding, I saw in him theugly, broken-nosed fellow who had been in the private compartment lastnight, with a watch to sell; the watch, with an initial on the back,that now lay in Grandfather Nat's cash-box.