Human natur'!" said the night-watchman, gazing fixedly at a pretty girlin a passing waterman's skiff. "Human natur'!"
He sighed, and, striking a match, applied it to his pipe and sat smokingthoughtfully.
"The young fellow is pretending that his arm is at the back of her byaccident," he continued; "and she's pretending not to know that it'sthere. When he's allowed to put it round 'er waist whenever he wishes,he won't want to do it. She's artful enough to know that, and that's whythey are all so stand-offish until the thing is settled. She'll moveforward 'arf an inch presently, and 'arf a minute arterwards she'll leanback agin without thinking. She's a nice-looking gal, and what she cansee in a tailor's dummy like that, I can't think."
He leaned back on his box and, folding his arms, emitted a cloud ofsmoke.
"Human natur's a funny thing. I've seen a lot of it in my time, and if Iwas to 'ave my life all over agin I expect I should be just as silly asthem two in the skiff. I've known the time when I would spend money asfree over a gal as I would over myself. I on'y wish I'd got all themoney now that I've spent on peppermint lozenges.
"That gal in the boat reminds me o' one I used to know a few years ago.Just the same innercent baby look--a look as if butter wouldn't melt in'er mouth--and a artful disposition that made me sorry for 'er sects.
"She used to come up to this wharf once a week in a schooner called theBelle. Her father, Cap'n Butt, was a widow-man, and 'e used to bring herwith 'im, partly for company and partly because 'e could keep 'is eye onher. Nasty eye it, was, too, when he 'appened to be out o' temper.
"I'd often took a bit o' notice o' the gal; just giving 'er a kind smilenow and then as she sat on deck, and sometimes--when 'er father wasn'tlooking--she'd smile back. Once, when 'e was down below, she laughedright out. She was afraid of 'im, and by and by I noticed that shedaren't even get off the ship and walk up and down the wharf withoutasking 'im. When she went out 'e was with 'er, and, from one or twonasty little snacks I 'appened to overhear when the skipper thought Iwas too far away, I began to see that something was up.
"It all came out one evening, and it only came out because the skipperwanted my help. I was standing leaning on my broom to get my breath backarter a bit o' sweeping, when he came up to me, and I knew at once, bythe nice way 'e spoke, that he wanted me to do something for 'im.
"'Come and 'ave a pint, Bill,' he ses.
"I put my broom agin the wall, and we walked round to the Bull's Headlike a couple o' brothers. We 'ad two pints apiece, and then he put his'and on my shoulder and talked as man to man.
"'I'm in a little bit o' difficulty about that gal o' mine,' he ses,passing me his baccy-box. 'Six months ago she dropped a letter out of'er pocket, and I'm blest if it wasn't from a young man. A young man!'
"'You sur-prise me,' I ses, meaning to be sarcastic.
"'I surprised her,' he ses, looking very fierce. 'I went to 'er box andI found a pile of 'em-a pile of 'em-tied up with a piece o' pink ribbon.And a photygraph of my lord. And of all the narrer-chested, weak-eyed,slack-baked, spindly-legged sons of a gun you ever saw in your life, heis the worst. If I on'y get my 'ands on him I'll choke 'im with his ownfeet.'
"He washed 'is mouth out with a drop o' beer and stood scowling at thefloor.
"'Arter I've choked 'im I'll twist his neck,' he ses. 'If he 'ad on'yput his address on 'is letters, I'd go round and do it now. And mydaughter, my only daughter, won't tell me where he lives.'
"'She ought to know better,' I ses.
"He took hold o' my 'and and shook it. 'You've got more sense than one'ud think to look at you, Bill,' he ses, not thinking wot he was saying.'You see wot a mess I'm in.'
"'Yes,' I ses.
"'I'm a nurse, that's wot I am,' he ses, very savage. 'Just a nursemaid.I can't move 'and or foot without that gal. 'Ow'd you like it, yourself,Bill?'
"'It must be very orkard for you,' I ses. 'Very orkard indeed.'
"'Orkard!' he ses; 'it's no name for it, Bill. I might as well be aSunday-school teacher, and ha' done with it. I never 'ad such a dulltime in all my life. Never. And the worst of it is, it's spiling mytemper. And all because o' that narrer-eyed, red-chested--you know wot Imean!'
"He took another mouthful o' beer, and then he took 'old of my arm.'Bill,' he ses, very earnest, 'I want you to do me a favour.'
"'Go ahead,' I ses.
"'I've got to meet a pal at Charing Cross at ha'-past seven,' he ses;'and we're going to make a night of it. I've left Winnie in charge o'the cook, and I've told 'im plain that, if she ain't there when I comeback, I'll skin 'im alive. Now, I want you to watch 'er, too. Keep thegate locked, and don't let anybody in you don't know. Especially thatmonkey-faced imitation of a man. Here 'e is. That's his likeness.'
"He pulled a photygraph out of 'is coatpocket and 'anded it to me.
"'That's 'im,' he ses. 'Fancy a gal getting love-letters from a thinglike that! And she was on'y twenty last birthday. Keep your eye on 'er,Bill, and don't let 'er out of your sight. You're worth two o' thecook.'
"He finished 'is beer, and, cuddling my arm, stepped back to the wharf.Miss Butt was sitting on the cabin skylight reading a book, and old Joe,the cook, was standing near 'er pretending to swab the decks with a mop.
"'I've got to go out for a little while--on business,' ses the skipper.'I don't s'pose I shall be long, and, while I'm away, Bill and the cookwill look arter you.'
"Miss Butt wrinkled up 'er shoulders.
"'The gate'll be locked, and you're not to leave the wharf. D'ye 'ear?'
"The gal wriggled 'er shoulders agin and went on reading, but she gavethe cook a look out of 'er innercent baby eyes that nearly made 'im dropthe mop.
"'Them's my orders,' ses the skipper, swelling his chest and lookinground, 'to everybody. You know wot'll 'appen to you, Joe, if thingsain't right when I come back. Come along, Bill, and lock the gate arterme. An' mind, for your own sake, don't let anything 'appen to that galwhile I'm away.'
"'Wot time'll you be back?' I ses, as 'e stepped through the wicket.
"'Not afore twelve, and p'r'aps a good bit later,' he ses, smiling allover with 'appiness. 'But young slab-chest don't know I'm out, andWinnie thinks I'm just going out for 'arf an hour, so it'll be allright. So long.'
"I watched 'im up the road, and I must say I began to wish I 'adn'ttaken the job on. Arter all, I 'ad on'y had two pints and a bit o'flattery, and I knew wot 'ud 'appen if anything went wrong. Built like abull he was, and fond o' using his strength. I locked the wicketcareful, and, putting the key in my pocket, began to walk up and downthe wharf.
"For about ten minutes the gal went on reading and didn't look up once.Then, as I passed, she gave me a nice smile and shook 'er little fist atthe cook, wot 'ad got 'is back towards 'er. I smiled back, o' course,and by and by she put her book down and climbed on to the side o' theship and held out her 'and for me to 'elp her ashore.
"'I'm so tired of the ship,' she ses, in a soft voice; 'it's like aprison. Don't you get, tired of the wharf?'
"'Sometimes,' I ses; 'but it's my dooty.'
"'Yes,' she ses. 'Yes, of course. But you're a big, strong man, and youcan put up with things better.'
"She gave a little sigh, and we walked up and down for a time withoutsaying anything.
"'And it's all father's foolishness,' she ses, at last; 'that's wotmakes it so tiresome. I can't help a pack of silly young men writing tome, can I?'
"'No, I s'pose not,' I ses.
"'Thank you,' she ses, putting 'er little 'and on my arm. 'I knew thatyou were sensible. I've often watched you when I've been sitting aloneon the schooner, longing for somebody to speak to. And I'm a good judgeof character. I can read you like a book.'
"She turned and looked up at me. Beautiful blue eyes she'd got, withlong, curling lashes, and teeth like pearls.
"'Father is so silly,' she ses, shaking her 'ead and looking down; 'andit's so unreasonable, because, as a matter of fact, I don't like youngmen. Oh, I beg your pardon, I didn't mean that. I didn'
t mean to berude.'
"'Rude?' I ses, staring at her.
"'Of course it was a rude thing for me to say,' she ses, smiling;'because you are still a young man yourself.'
"I shook my 'ead. 'Youngish,' I ses.
"'Young!' she ses, stamping 'er little foot.
"She gave me another look, and this time 'er blue eyes seemed large andsolemn. She walked along like one in a dream, and twice she tripped overthe planks and would 'ave fallen if I hadn't caught 'er round the waist.
"'Thank you,' she ses. 'I'm very clumsy. How strong your arm is!'
"We walked up and down agin, and every time we went near the edge of thejetty she 'eld on to my arm for fear of stumbling agin. And there wasthat silly cook standing about on the schooner on tip-toe and twistinghis silly old neck till I wonder it didn't twist off.
"'Wot a beautiful evening it is!' she ses, at last, in a low voice. 'I'ope father isn't coming back early. Do you know wot time he is cominghome?'
"'About twelve,' I ses; 'but don't tell 'im I told you so.'
"'O' course not,' she ses, squeezing my arm. 'Poor father! I hope he isenjoying himself as much as I am.'
"We walked down to the jetty agin arter that, and sat side by sidelooking acrost the river. And she began to talk about Life, and wot astrange thing it was; and 'ow the river would go on flowing down to thesea thousands and thousands o' years arter we was both dead andforgotten. If it hadn't ha' been for her little 'ead leaning agin myshoulder I should have 'ad the creeps.
"'Let's go down into the cabin,' she ses, at last, with a little shiver;'it makes me melancholy sitting here and thinking of the"might-have-beens."'
"I got up first and 'elped her up, and, arter both staring hard at thecook, wot didn't seem to know 'is place, we went down into the cabin. Itwas a comfortable little place, and arter she 'ad poured me out a glassof 'er father's whisky, and filled my pipe for me, I wouldn't ha'changed places with a king. Even when the pipe wouldn't draw I didn'tmind.
"'May I write a letter?' she ses, at last.
"'Sartainly,' I ses.
"She got out her pen and ink and paper, and wrote. 'I sha'n't be long,'she ses, looking up and nibbling 'er pen. 'It's a letter to mydressmaker; she promised my dress by six o'clock this afternoon, and Iam just writing to tell her that if I don't have it by ten in themorning she can keep it.'
"'Quite right,' I ses; 'it's the on'y way to get things done.'
"'It's my way,' she ses, sticking the letter in an envelope and lickingit down. 'Nice name, isn't it?'
"She passed it over to me, and I read the name and address: 'Miss MinnieMiller, 17, John Street, Mile End Road.'
"'That'll wake her up,' She ses, smiling. 'Will you ask Joe to take itfor me?'
"'He--he's on guard,' I ses, smiling back at 'er and shaking my 'ead.
"'I know,' she ses, in a low voice. 'But I don't want any guard--onlyyou. I don't like guards that peep down skylights.'
"I looked up just in time to see Joe's 'ead disappear. Then I nipped up,and arter I 'ad told 'im part of wot I thought about 'im I gave 'im theletter and told 'im to sheer off.
"'The skipper told me to stay 'ere,' he ses, looking obstinate.
"'You do as you're told,' I ses. 'I'm in charge, and I take fullresponsibility. I shall lock the gate arter you. Wot are you worryingabout?'
"'And here's a shilling, Joe, for a bus fare,' ses the gal, smiling.'You can keep the change.'
"Joe took off 'is cap and scratched 'is silly bald 'ead.
"'Come on,' I ses; 'it's a letter to a dressmaker. A letter that must goto-night.'
"'Else it's no use,' ses the gal. 'You don't know 'ow important it is.'
"'All right,' ses Joe. ''Ave it your own way. So long as you don't tellthe skipper I don't mind. If anything 'appens you'll catch it too,Bill.'
"He climbed ashore, and I follered 'im to the gate and unlocked it. Hewas screwing up 'is eye ready for a wink, but I give 'im such a lookthat he thought better of it, and, arter rubbing his eye with 'is fingeras though he 'ad got a bit o' dust in it, he went off.
"I locked the gate and went back to the cabin, and for some time we sattalking about fathers and the foolish ideas they got into their 'eads,and things o' that sort. So far as I remember, I 'ad two more goes o'whisky and one o' the skipper's cigars, and I was just thinking wot abeautiful thing it was to be alive and 'ealthy and in good spirits,talking to a nice gal that understood wot you said a'most afore you saidit, when I 'eard three blows on a whistle.
"'Wot's that?' I ses, starting up. 'Police whistle?'
"'I don't think so,' ses Miss Butt, putting her 'and on my shoulder.'Sit down and stay where you are. I don't want you to get hurt, if itis. Let somebody I don't like go.'
"I sat down agin and listened, but there was no more whistling.
"'Boy in the street, I expect,' ses the gal, going into the state-room.'Oh, I've got something to show you. Wait a minute.'
"I 'eard her moving about, and then she comes back into the cabin.
"'I can't find the key of my box,' she ses, 'and it's in there. I wonderwhether you've got a key that would open it. It's a padlock.'
"I put my 'and in my pocket and pulled out my keys. 'Shall I come andtry?' I ses.
"'No, thank you,' she ses, taking the keys. 'This looks about the size.What key is it?'
"'It's the key of the gate,' I ses, 'but I don't suppose it'll fit.'
"She went back into the state-room agin, and I 'eard her fumbling at alock. Then she came back into the cabin, breathing rather hard, andstood thinking.
"'I've just remembered,' she ses, pinching her chin. 'Yes!'
"She stepped to the door and went up the companion-ladder, and the nextmoment I 'eard a sliding noise and a key turn in a lock. I jumped to thefoot of the ladder and, 'ardly able to believe my senses, saw that thehatch was closed. When I found that it was locked too, you might ha'knocked me down with a feather.
"I went down to the cabin agin, and, standing on the locker, pushed theskylight up with my 'ead and tried to lookout. I couldn't see the gate,but I 'eard voices and footsteps, and a little while arterwards I seethat gal coming along the wharf arm in arm with the young man she 'adtold me she didn't like, and dancing for joy. They climbed on to theschooner, and then they both stooped down with their hands on theirknees and looked at me.
"'Wot is it?' ses the young man, grinning.
"'It's a watchman,' ses the gal. 'It's here to take charge of the wharf,you know, and see that nobody comes on.'
"'We ought to ha' brought some buns for it,' ses the young man; 'look atit opening its mouth.'
"They both laughed fit to kill themselves, but I didn't move a muscle.
"'You open the companion,' I ses, 'or it'll be the worse for you. D'yehear? Open it!'
"'Oh, Alfred,' ses the gal, 'he's losing 'is temper. Wotever shall wedo?'
"'I don't want no more nonsense,' I ses, trying to fix 'er with my eye.'If you don't let me out it'll be the worse for you.'
"'Don't you talk to my young lady like that,' ses the young man.
"'Your young lady?' I ses. 'H'mm! You should ha' seen 'er 'arf an hourago.'
"The gal looked at me steady for a moment.
"'He put 'is nasty fat arm round my waist, Alfred,' she ses.
"'Wot!' ses the young man, squeaking. 'WOT!'
"He snatched up the mop wot that nasty, untidy cook 'ad left leaningagin the side, and afore I 'ad any idea of wot 'e was up to he shovedthe beastly thing straight in my face.
"'Next time,' he ses, 'I'll tear you limb from limb!'
"I couldn't speak for a time, and when I could 'e stopped me with themop agin. It was like a chained lion being tormented by a monkey. Istepped down on to the cabin floor, and then I told 'em both wot Ithought of 'em.
"'Come along, Alfred,' ses the gal, 'else the cook'll be back before westart.'
"'He's all right,' ses the young man. 'Minnie's looking arter him. WhenI left he'd got 'arf a bottle of whisky in front of 'im.'
/>
"'Still, we may as well go,' ses Miss Butt. 'It seems a shame to keepthe cab waiting.'
"'All right,' he ses. 'I just want to give this old chump one more lickwith the mop and then we'll go.'
"He peeped down the skylight and waited, but I kept quite quiet, with myback towards 'im.
"'Come along,' ses Miss Butt.
"'I'm coming,' he ses. 'Hi! You down there! When the cap'n comes backtell 'im that I'm taking Miss Butt to an aunt o' mine in the country.And tell'im that in a week or two he'll 'ave the largest and nicestpiece of wedding-cake he 'as ever 'ad in his life. So long!'
"'Good-bye, watchman,' ses the gal.
"They moved off without another word--from them, I mean. I heard thewicket slam and then I 'eard a cab drive off over the stones. I couldn'tbelieve it at first. I couldn't believe a gal with such beautiful blueeyes could be so hard-'earted, and for a long time I stood listening andhoping to 'ear the cab come back. Then I stepped up to the companion andtried to shift it with my shoulders.
"I went back to the cabin at last, and arter lighting the lamp I 'adanother sup o' the skipper's whisky to clear my 'ead, and sat down totry and think wot tale I was to tell 'im. I sat for pretty near threehours without thinking of one, and then I 'eard the crew come on to thewharf.
"They was a bit startled when they saw my 'ead at the skylight, and thenthey all started at the same time asking me wot I was doing. I told 'emto let me out fust and then I'd tell 'em, and one of 'em 'ad juststepped round to the companion when the skipper come on to the wharf andstepped aboard. He stooped down and peeped at me through the skylight asthough he couldn't believe 'is eyesight, and then, arter sending thehands for'ard and telling 'em to stay there, wotever 'appened, heunlocked the companion and came down."
THE UNDERSTUDY