Matilda stood at the open door of a house attached to a wharf situatedin that dreary district which bears the high-sounding name of "St.Katharine's."
Work was over for the day. A couple of unhorsed vans were pushed up thegangway by the side of the house, and the big gate was closed. Theuntidy office which occupied the ground-floor was deserted, except for agrey-bearded "housemaid" of sixty, who was sweeping it through with abroom, and indulging in a few sailorly oaths at the choking qualities ofthe dust he was raising.
The sound of advancing footsteps stopped at the gate, a small flap-doorlet in it flew open, and Matilda Bunker's open countenance took apinkish hue, as a small man in jersey and blue coat, with a hard roundhat exceeding high in the crown, stepped inside.
"Good evening, Mrs. Bunker, ma'am," said he, coming slowly up to her.
"Good evening, captain," said the lady, who was Mrs. only by virtue ofher age and presence.
"Fresh breeze," said the man in the high round hat. "If this lasts we'llbe in Ipswich in no time."
Mrs. Bunker assented.
"Beautiful the river is at present," continued the captain. "Everythinggrowing splendid."
"In the river?" asked the mystified Mrs. Bunker.
"On the banks," said the captain; "the trees, by Sheppey, and all roundthere. Now, why don't you say the word, and come? There's a cabin like anew pin ready for you to sit in--for cleanness, I mean--and everyaccommodation you could require. Sleep like a humming-top you will, ifyou come."
"Humming-top?" queried Mrs. Bunker archly.
"Any top," said the captain. "Come, make up your mind. We shan't sailafore nine."
"It don't look right," said the lady, who was sorely tempted. "But themissus says I may go if I like, so I'll just go and get my box ready.I'll be down on the jetty at nine."
"Ay, ay," said the skipper, smiling, "me and Bill'll just have a snoozetill then. So long."
"So long," said Matilda.
"So long," repeated the amorous skipper, and turning round to bestowanother ardent glance upon the fair one at the door, crashed into thewaggon.
The neighbouring clocks were just striking nine in a sort of yelpingchorus to the heavy boom of Big Ben, which came floating down the river,as Mrs. Bunker and the night watchman, staggering under a load ofluggage, slowly made their way on to the jetty. The barge, for such wasthe craft in question, was almost level with the planks, while thefigures of two men darted to and fro in all the bustle of getting underway.
"Bill," said the watchman, addressing the mate, "bear a hand with thisbox, and be careful, it's got the wedding clothes inside."
The watchman was so particularly pleased with this little joke that inplace of giving the box to Bill he put it down and sat on it, shakingconvulsively with his hand over his mouth, while the blushing Matildaand the discomfited captain strove in vain to appear unconcerned.
The packages were rather a tight squeeze for the cabin, but they managedto get them in, and the skipper, with a threatening look at his mate,who was exchanging glances of exquisite humour with the watchman, gavehis hand to Mrs. Bunker and helped her aboard.
"Welcome on the Sir Edmund Lyons, Mrs. Bunker," said he. "Bill, kickthat dawg back."
"Stop!" said Mrs. Bunker hastily, "that's my chapperong."
"Your what?" said the skipper. "It's a dawg, Mrs. Bunker, an' I won'thave no dawgs aboard my craft."
"Bill," said Mrs. Bunker, "fetch my box up again."
"Leastways," the captain hastened to add, "unless it's any friend ofyours, Mrs. Bunker."
"It's chaperoning me," said Matilda; "it wouldn't be proper for a ladyto go a v'y'ge with two men without somebody to look after her."
"That's right, Sam," said the watchman sententiously. "You ought to knowthat at your age."
"Why, we're looking after her," said the simple-minded captain. "Me an'Bill."
"Take care Bill don't cut you out," said the watchman in a hoarsewhisper, distinctly audible to all. "He's younger nor what you are, Sam,an' the wimmen are just crazy arter young men. 'Sides which, he's afiner man altogether. An' you've had ONE wife a'ready, Sam."
"Cast off!" said the skipper impatiently. "Cast off! Stand by there,Bill!"
"Ay, ay!" said Bill, seizing a boat-hook, and the lines fell into thewater with a splash as the barge was pushed out into the tide.
Mrs. Bunker experienced the usual trouble of landsmen aboard ship, andfelt herself terribly in the way as the skipper divided his attentionsbetween the tiller and helping Bill with the sail. Meantime the bargehad bothered most of the traffic by laying across the river, and whenthe sail was hoisted had got under the lee of a huge warehouse andscarcely moved.
"We'll feel the breeze directly," said Captain Codd. "Then you'll seewhat she can do."
As he spoke, the barge began to slip through the water as a light breezetook her huge sail and carried her into the stream, where she fell intoline with other craft who were just making a start.
At a pleasant pace, with wind and tide, the Sir Edmund Lyons proceededon its way, her skipper cocking his eye aloft and along her decks topoint out various beauties to his passenger which she might otherwisehave overlooked. A comfortable supper was spread on the deck, and Mrs.Bunker began to think regretfully of the pleasure she had missed intaking up barge-sailing so late in life.
Greenwich, with its white-fronted hospital and background of trees, waspassed. The air got sensibly cooler, and to Mrs. Bunker it seemed thatthe water was not only getting darker, but also lumpy, and she asked twoor three times whether there was any danger.
The skipper laughed gaily, and diving down into the cabin fetched up ashawl, which he placed carefully round his fair companion's shoulders.His right hand grasped the tiller, his left stole softly and carefullyround her waist.
"How enjoyable!" said Mrs. Bunker, referring to the evening.
"Glad you like it," said the skipper, who wasn't. "Oh, how pleasant togo sailing down the river of life like this, everything quiet andpeaceful, just driftin'"--
"Ahoy!" yelled the mate suddenly from the bows. "Who's steering? Starbudyour hellum."
The skipper started guiltily, and put his helm to starboard as anotherbarge came up suddenly from the opposite direction and almost grazedthem. There were two men on board, and the skipper blushed for theirfluency as reflecting upon the order in general.
It was some little time before they could settle down again after this,but ultimately they got back in their old position, and the infatuatedCodd was just about to wax sentimental again, when he felt somethingbehind him. He turned with a start as a portly retriever inserted hishead under his left arm, and slowly but vigorously forced himselfbetween them; then he sat on his haunches and panted, while thedisconcerted Codd strove to realise the humour of the position.
"I think I shall go to bed now," said Mrs. Bunker, after the positionhad lasted long enough to be unendurable. "If anything happens, acollision or anything, don't be afraid to let me know."
The skipper promised, and, shaking hands, bade his passenger good-night.She descended, somewhat clumsily, it is true, into the little cabin, andthe skipper, sitting by the helm, which he lazily manoeuvred asrequired, smoked his short clay and fell into a lover's reverie.
So he sat and smoked until the barge, which had, by the help of thebreeze, been making its way against the tide, began to realise that thatgood friend had almost dropped, and at the same time bethought itself ofa small anchor which hung over the bows ready for emergencies such asthese.
"We must bring up, Bill," said the skipper.
"Ay, ay!" said Bill, sleepily raising himself from the hatchway. "Overshe goes."
With no more ceremony than this he dropped the anchor; the sail, withtwo strong men hauling on to it, creaked and rustled its way close tothe mast, and the Sir Edmund Lyons was ready for sleep.
"I can do with a nap," said Bill. "I'm dog-tired."
"So am I," said the other. "It'll be a tight fit down for'ard, but wecouldn't ask a lady to
sleep there."
Bill gave a non-committal grunt, and as the captain, after the manner ofhis kind, took a last look round before retiring, placed his hands onthe hatch and lowered himself down. The next moment he came up with awild yell, and, sitting on the deck, rolled up his trousers and fondledhis leg.
"What's the matter?" inquired the skipper.
"That blessed dog's down there, that's all," said the injured Bill."He's evidently mistook it for his kennel, and I don't wonder at it. Ithought he'd been wonderful quiet."
"We must talk him over," said the skipper, advancing to the hatchway."Poor dog! Poor old chap! Come along, then! Come along!" He patted hisleg and whistled, and the dog, which wanted to get to sleep again,growled like a small thunderstorm.
"Come on, old fellow!" said the skipper enticingly. "Come along, comeon, then!"
The dog came at last, and then the skipper, instead of staying to pathim, raced Bill up the ropes, while the brute, in execrable taste, pacedup and down the deck daring them to come down. Coming to the conclusion,at last, that they were settled for the night, he returned to theforecastle and, after a warning bark or two, turned in again. Both men,after waiting a few minutes, cautiously regained the deck.
"You call him up again," said Bill, seizing a boat-hook, and holding itat the charge.
"Certainly not," said the other. "I won't have no blood spilt aboard myship."
"Who's going to spill blood?" asked the Jesuitical Bill; "but if helikes to run hisself on to the boat-hook "--
"Put it down," said the skipper sternly, and Bill sullenly obeyed.
"We'll have to snooze on deck," said Codd.
"And mind we don't snore," said the sarcastic Bill, "'cos the dogmightn't like it."
Without noticing this remark the captain stretched himself on thehatches, and Bill, after a few more grumbles, followed his example, andboth men were soon asleep.
Day was breaking when they awoke and stretched their stiffened limbs,for the air was fresh, with a suspicion of moisture in it. Two or threesmall craft were, like them selves, riding at anchor, their decks wetand deserted; others were getting under way to take advantage of thetide, which had just turned.
"Up with the anchor," said the skipper, seizing a handspike andthrusting it into the windlass.
As the rusty chain came in, an ominous growling came from below, andBill snatched his handspike out and raised it aloft. The skipper gazedmeditatively at the shore, and the dog, as it came bounding up, gazedmeditatively at the handspike. Then it yawned, an easy, unconcernedyawn, and commenced to pace the deck, and coming to the conclusion thatthe men were only engaged in necessary work, regarded their efforts witha lenient eye, and barked encouragingly as they hoisted the sail.
It was a beautiful morning. The miniature river waves broke against theblunt bows of the barge, and passed by her sides rippling musically.Over the flat Essex marshes a white mist was slowly dispersing beforethe rays of the sun, and the trees on the Kentish hills were black anddrenched with moisture.
A little later smoke issued from the tiny cowl over the fo'c'sle androlled in a little pungent cloud to the Kentish shore. Then a deliciousodour of frying steak rose from below, and fell like healing balm uponthe susceptible nostrils of the skipper as he stood at the helm.
"Is Mrs. Bunker getting up?" inquired the mate, as he emerged from thefo'c'sle and walked aft.
"I believe so," said the skipper. "There's movements below."
"'Cos the steak's ready and waiting," said the mate. "I've put it on adish in front of the fire."
"Ay, ay!" said the skipper.
The mate lit his pipe and sat down on the hatchway, slowly smoking. Heremoved it a couple of minutes later, to stare in bewilderment at theunwonted behaviour of the dog, which came up to the captain andaffectionately licked his hands.
"He's took quite a fancy to me," said the delighted man.
"Love me love my dog," quoted Bill waggishly, as he strolled forwardagain.
The skipper was fondly punching the dog, which was now on its back withits four legs in the air, when he heard a terrible cry from thefo'c'sle, and the mate came rushing wildly on deck.
"Where's that -------- dog?" he cried.
"Don't you talk like that aboard my ship. Where's your manners?" criedthe skipper hotly.
"---- the manners!" said the mate, with tears in his eyes. "Where's thatdog's manners? He's eaten all that steak."
Before the other could reply, the scuttle over the cabin was drawn, andthe radiant face of Mrs. Bunker appeared at the opening.
"I can smell breakfast," she said archly.
"No wonder, with that dog so close," said Bill grimly. Mrs. Bunkerlooked at the captain for an explanation.
"He's ate it," said that gentleman briefly. "A pound and a 'arf o' thebest rump steak in Wapping."
"Never mind," said Mrs. Bunker sweetly, "cook some more. I can wait."
"Cook some more," said the skipper to the mate, who still lingered.
"I'll cook some bloaters. That's all we've got now," replied the matesulkily.
"It's a lovely morning," said Mrs. Bunker, as the mate retired, "the airis so fresh. I expect that's what has made Rover so hungry. He isn't agreedy dog. Not at all."
"Very likely," said Codd, as the dog rose, and, after sniffing the air,gently wagged his tail and trotted forward. "Where' she off to now?"
"He can smell the bloaters, I expect," said Mrs. Bunker, laughing. "It'swonderful what intelligence he's got. Come here, Rover!"
"Bill!" cried the skipper warningly, as the dog continued on his way."Look out! He's coming!"
"Call him off!" yelled the mate anxiously. "Call him off!"
Mrs. Bunker ran up, and, seizing her chaperon by the collar, hauled himaway.
"It's the sea air," said she apologetically; "and he's been on shortcommons lately, because he's not been well. Keep still, Rover!"
"Keep still, Rover!" said the skipper, with an air of command.
Under this joint control the dog sat down, his tongue lolling out, andhis eyes fixed on the fo'c'sle until the breakfast was spread. Theappearance of the mate with a dish of steaming fish excited him again,and being chidden by his mistress, he sat down sulkily in the skipper'splace, until pushed off by its indignant owner.
"Soft roe, Bill?" inquired the skipper courteously, after he had servedhis passenger.
"That's not my plate," said the mate pointedly, as the skipper helpedhim.
"Oh! I wasn't noticing," said the other, reddening.
"I was, though," said the mate rudely. "I thought you'd do that. I waswaiting for it. I'm not going to eat after animals, if you are."
The skipper coughed, and, after effecting the desired exchange,proceeded with his breakfast in sombre silence.
The barge was slipping at an easy pace through the water, the sun wasbright, and the air cool, and everything pleasant and comfortable, untilthe chaperon, who had been repeatedly pushed away, broke through thecharmed circle which surrounded the food and seized a fish. In theconfusion which ensued he fell foul of the tea-kettle, and, dropping hisprey, bit the skipper frantically, until driven off by his mistress.
"Naughty boy!" said she, giving him a few slight cuffs. "Has he hurtyou? I must get a bandage for you."
"A little," said Codd, looking at his hand, which was bleedingprofusely. "There's a little linen in the locker down below, if youwouldn't mind tearing it up for me."
Mrs. Bunker, giving the dog a final slap, went below, and the two menlooked at each other and then at the dog, which was standing at thestern, barking insultingly at a passing steamer.
"It's about time she came over," said the mate, throwing a glance at thesail, then at the skipper, then at the dog.
"So it is," said the skipper, through his set teeth.
As he spoke he pushed the long tiller hastily from port to starboard,and the dog finished his bark in the water; the huge sail reeled for amoment, then swung violently over to the other side, and the barge wason a fresh t
ack, with the dog twenty yards astern. He was wise in hisgeneration, and after one look at the barge, made for the distant shore.
"Murderers!" screamed a voice; "murderers! you've killed my dog."
"It was an accident; I didn't see him," stammered the skipper.
"Don't tell me," stormed the lady; "I saw it all through the skylight."
"We had to shift the helm to get out of the way of a schooner," saidCodd.
"Where's the schooner?" demanded Mrs. Bunker; "where is it?"
The captain looked at the mate. "Where's the schooner?" said he.
"I b'leeve," said the mate, losing his head entirely at this question,"I b'leeve we must have run her down. I don't see her nowhere about."
Mrs. Bunker stamped her foot, and, with a terrible glance at the men,descended to the cabin. From this coign of vantage she obstinatelyrefused to budge, and sat in angry seclusion until the vessel reachedIpswich late in the evening. Then she appeared on deck, dressed forwalking, and, utterly ignoring the woebegone Codd, stepped ashore, and,obtaining a cab for her boxes, drove silently away.
An hour afterwards the mate went to his home, leaving the captainsitting on the lonely deck striving to realise the bitter fact that, sofar as the end he had in view was concerned, he had seen the last ofMrs. Bunker and the small but happy home in which he had hoped toinstall her.
A HARBOUR OF REFUGE