Chapter 78
On this same day, and about this very hour, Mr Willet the elder satsmoking his pipe in a chamber at the Black Lion. Although it was hotsummer weather, Mr Willet sat close to the fire. He was in a state ofprofound cogitation, with his own thoughts, and it was his customat such times to stew himself slowly, under the impression that thatprocess of cookery was favourable to the melting out of his ideas,which, when he began to simmer, sometimes oozed forth so copiously as toastonish even himself.
Mr Willet had been several thousand times comforted by his friends andacquaintance, with the assurance that for the loss he had sustained inthe damage done to the Maypole, he could 'come upon the county.' But asthis phrase happened to bear an unfortunate resemblance to the popularexpression of 'coming on the parish,' it suggested to Mr Willet's mindno more consolatory visions than pauperism on an extensive scale, andruin in a capacious aspect. Consequently, he had never failed to receivethe intelligence with a rueful shake of the head, or a dreary stare, andhad been always observed to appear much more melancholy after a visit ofcondolence than at any other time in the whole four-and-twenty hours.
It chanced, however, that sitting over the fire on this particularoccasion--perhaps because he was, as it were, done to a turn; perhapsbecause he was in an unusually bright state of mind; perhaps becausehe had considered the subject so long; perhaps because of all thesefavouring circumstances, taken together--it chanced that, sitting overthe fire on this particular occasion, Mr Willet did, afar off and inthe remotest depths of his intellect, perceive a kind of lurking hint orfaint suggestion, that out of the public purse there might issue fundsfor the restoration of the Maypole to its former high place among thetaverns of the earth. And this dim ray of light did so diffuse itselfwithin him, and did so kindle up and shine, that at last he had it asplainly and visibly before him as the blaze by which he sat; and, fullypersuaded that he was the first to make the discovery, and that he hadstarted, hunted down, fallen upon, and knocked on the head, a perfectlyoriginal idea which had never presented itself to any other man, aliveor dead, he laid down his pipe, rubbed his hands, and chuckled audibly.
'Why, father!' cried Joe, entering at the moment, 'you're in spiritsto-day!'
'It's nothing partickler,' said Mr Willet, chuckling again. 'It'snothing at all partickler, Joseph. Tell me something about theSalwanners.' Having preferred this request, Mr Willet chuckled a thirdtime, and after these unusual demonstrations of levity, he put his pipein his mouth again.
'What shall I tell you, father?' asked Joe, laying his hand upon hissire's shoulder, and looking down into his face. 'That I have come back,poorer than a church mouse? You know that. That I have come back, maimedand crippled? You know that.'
'It was took off,' muttered Mr Willet, with his eyes upon the fire, 'atthe defence of the Salwanners, in America, where the war is.'
'Quite right,' returned Joe, smiling, and leaning with his remainingelbow on the back of his father's chair; 'the very subject I came tospeak to you about. A man with one arm, father, is not of much use inthe busy world.'
This was one of those vast propositions which Mr Willet had neverconsidered for an instant, and required time to 'tackle.' Wherefore hemade no answer.
'At all events,' said Joe, 'he can't pick and choose his means ofearning a livelihood, as another man may. He can't say "I will turn myhand to this," or "I won't turn my hand to that," but must take what hecan do, and be thankful it's no worse.--What did you say?'
Mr Willet had been softly repeating to himself, in a musing tone, thewords 'defence of the Salwanners:' but he seemed embarrassed at havingbeen overheard, and answered 'Nothing.'
'Now look here, father.--Mr Edward has come to England from the WestIndies. When he was lost sight of (I ran away on the same day, father),he made a voyage to one of the islands, where a school-friend of hishad settled; and, finding him, wasn't too proud to be employed on hisestate, and--and in short, got on well, and is prospering, and has comeover here on business of his own, and is going back again speedily. Ourreturning nearly at the same time, and meeting in the course of the latetroubles, has been a good thing every way; for it has not only enabledus to do old friends some service, but has opened a path in life for mewhich I may tread without being a burden upon you. To be plain, father,he can employ me; I have satisfied myself that I can be of real use tohim; and I am going to carry my one arm away with him, and to make themost of it.'
In the mind's eye of Mr Willet, the West Indies, and indeed all foreigncountries, were inhabited by savage nations, who were perpetuallyburying pipes of peace, flourishing tomahawks, and puncturing strangepatterns in their bodies. He no sooner heard this announcement,therefore, than he leaned back in his chair, took his pipe from hislips, and stared at his son with as much dismay as if he already beheldhim tied to a stake, and tortured for the entertainment of a livelypopulation. In what form of expression his feelings would have founda vent, it is impossible to say. Nor is it necessary: for, before asyllable occurred to him, Dolly Varden came running into the room, intears, threw herself on Joe's breast without a word of explanation, andclasped her white arms round his neck.
'Dolly!' cried Joe. 'Dolly!'
'Ay, call me that; call me that always,' exclaimed the locksmith'slittle daughter; 'never speak coldly to me, never be distant, neveragain reprove me for the follies I have long repented, or I shall die,Joe.'
'I reprove you!' said Joe.
'Yes--for every kind and honest word you uttered, went to my heart. Foryou, who have borne so much from me--for you, who owe your sufferingsand pain to my caprice--for you to be so kind--so noble to me, Joe--'
He could say nothing to her. Not a syllable. There was an odd sort ofeloquence in his one arm, which had crept round her waist: but his lipswere mute.
'If you had reminded me by a word--only by one short word,' sobbedDolly, clinging yet closer to him, 'how little I deserved that youshould treat me with so much forbearance; if you had exulted only forone moment in your triumph, I could have borne it better.'
'Triumph!' repeated Joe, with a smile which seemed to say, 'I am apretty figure for that.'
'Yes, triumph,' she cried, with her whole heart and soul in her earnestvoice, and gushing tears; 'for it is one. I am glad to think and knowit is. I wouldn't be less humbled, dear--I wouldn't be without therecollection of that last time we spoke together in this place--no, notif I could recall the past, and make our parting, yesterday.'
Did ever lover look as Joe looked now!
'Dear Joe,' said Dolly, 'I always loved you--in my own heart I alwaysdid, although I was so vain and giddy. I hoped you would come back thatnight. I made quite sure you would. I prayed for it on my knees. Throughall these long, long years, I have never once forgotten you, or left offhoping that this happy time might come.'
The eloquence of Joe's arm surpassed the most impassioned language; andso did that of his lips--yet he said nothing, either.
'And now, at last,' cried Dolly, trembling with the fervour of herspeech, 'if you were sick, and shattered in your every limb; if you wereailing, weak, and sorrowful; if, instead of being what you are, you werein everybody's eyes but mine the wreck and ruin of a man; I would beyour wife, dear love, with greater pride and joy, than if you were thestateliest lord in England!'
'What have I done,' cried Joe, 'what have I done to meet with thisreward?'
'You have taught me,' said Dolly, raising her pretty face to his, 'toknow myself, and your worth; to be something better than I was; to bemore deserving of your true and manly nature. In years to come, dearJoe, you shall find that you have done so; for I will be, not onlynow, when we are young and full of hope, but when we have grown old andweary, your patient, gentle, never-tiring wife. I will never know a wishor care beyond our home and you, and I will always study how to pleaseyou with my best affection and my most devoted love. I will: indeed Iwill!'
Joe could only repeat his former eloquence--but it was very much to thepurpose.
'They
know of this, at home,' said Dolly. 'For your sake, I would leaveeven them; but they know it, and are glad of it, and are as proud of youas I am, and as full of gratitude.--You'll not come and see me as a poorfriend who knew me when I was a girl, will you, dear Joe?'
Well, well! It don't matter what Joe said in answer, but he said a greatdeal; and Dolly said a great deal too: and he folded Dolly in his onearm pretty tight, considering that it was but one; and Dolly made noresistance: and if ever two people were happy in this world--which isnot an utterly miserable one, with all its faults--we may, with someappearance of certainty, conclude that they were.
To say that during these proceedings Mr Willet the elder underwentthe greatest emotions of astonishment of which our common nature issusceptible--to say that he was in a perfect paralysis of surprise, andthat he wandered into the most stupendous and theretofore unattainableheights of complicated amazement--would be to shadow forth his state ofmind in the feeblest and lamest terms. If a roc, an eagle, a griffin, aflying elephant, a winged sea-horse, had suddenly appeared, and, takinghim on its back, carried him bodily into the heart of the 'Salwanners,'it would have been to him as an everyday occurrence, in comparison withwhat he now beheld. To be sitting quietly by, seeing and hearing thesethings; to be completely overlooked, unnoticed, and disregarded,while his son and a young lady were talking to each other in the mostimpassioned manner, kissing each other, and making themselves inall respects perfectly at home; was a position so tremendous, soinexplicable, so utterly beyond the widest range of his capacity ofcomprehension, that he fell into a lethargy of wonder, and could no morerouse himself than an enchanted sleeper in the first year of his fairylease, a century long.
'Father,' said Joe, presenting Dolly. 'You know who this is?'
Mr Willet looked first at her, then at his son, then back again atDolly, and then made an ineffectual effort to extract a whiff from hispipe, which had gone out long ago.
'Say a word, father, if it's only "how d'ye do,"' urged Joe.
'Certainly, Joseph,' answered Mr Willet. 'Oh yes! Why not?'
'To be sure,' said Joe. 'Why not?'
'Ah!' replied his father. 'Why not?' and with this remark, which heuttered in a low voice as though he were discussing some grave questionwith himself, he used the little finger--if any of his fingers canbe said to have come under that denomination--of his right hand as atobacco-stopper, and was silent again.
And so he sat for half an hour at least, although Dolly, in the mostendearing of manners, hoped, a dozen times, that he was not angry withher. So he sat for half an hour, quite motionless, and looking allthe while like nothing so much as a great Dutch Pin or Skittle. At theexpiration of that period, he suddenly, and without the least notice,burst (to the great consternation of the young people) into a very loudand very short laugh; and repeating, 'Certainly, Joseph. Oh yes! Whynot?' went out for a walk.