CHAPTER VI
STEPHEN'S TALE
High under the tiles of the Hole in the Wall, I had at first a night ofdisturbed sleep. I was in my old familiar cot, which had been broughtduring the evening, on a truck. But things were strange, and, inparticular, my grandfather, who slept on the opposite side of the room,snored so amazingly, and with a sound so unlike anything I had everheard before, that I feared he must be choking to death, and climbed outof bed, once, to see. There were noises from without too, sometimes ofdiscordant singing, sometimes of quarrels; and once, from a distance, asuccession of dreadful screams. Then the old house made curious soundsof its own; twice I was convinced of stealthy steps on the stair, andall night the very walls creaked aloud. So for long, sleepy as I was, Idozed and started and rolled and lay awake, wondering about the littleship in the bar-parlour, and Mr. Cripps, and the pale man, and the watchwith the M on it. Also I considered again the matter of my prayers,which I had already discussed with Grandfather Nat, to his obviousperplexity, by candle-light. For I was urgent to know if I must nowleave my mother out, and if I might not put my little dead brother in;being very anxious to include them both. My grandfather's first opinionwas, that it was not the usual thing; which opinion he expressed withhesitation, and a curious look of the eyes that I wondered at. But Iargued that God could bless them just as well in heaven as here; andGrandfather Nat admitted that no doubt there was something in that.Whereupon I desired to know if they would hear if I said in my prayersthat I was quite safe with him, at the Hole in the Wall; or if I shouldrather ask God to tell them. And at that my grandfather stood up andturned away, with a rub and a pat on my head, toward his own bed;telling me to say whatever I pleased, and not to forget Grandfather Nat.
So that now, having said what I pleased, and having well rememberedGrandfather Nat, and slept and woke and dozed and woke again, I tooksolace from his authority and whispered many things to my little deadbrother, whom I could never play with: of the little ship in the glasscase, and the pictures, and of how I was going to the London Dockto-morrow; and so at last fell asleep soundly till morning.
Grandfather Nat was astir early, and soon I was looking from the windowby his bed at the ships that lay so thick in the Pool, tier on tier.Below me I could see the water that washed between the slimy piles onwhich the house rested, and to the left were the narrow stairs thatterminated the passage at the side. Several boats were moored aboutthese stairs, and a waterman was already looking out for a fare. Out inthe Pool certain other boats caught the eye as they dodged about amongthe colliers, because each carried a bright fire amidships, in abrazier, beside a man, two small barrels of beer, and a very largehandbell. The men were purlmen, Grandfather Nat told me, sellingliquor--hot beer chiefly, in the cold mornings--to the men on thecolliers, or on any other craft thereabout. It struck me that the onething lacking for perfect bliss in most rowing boats was just such abrazier of cosy fire as the purl-boat carried; so that after very littleconsideration I resolved that when I grew up I would not be a sailor,nor an engine-driver, nor any one of a dozen other things I had thoughtof, but a purlman.
The staircase would have landed one direct into the bar-parlour but foran enclosing door, which strangers commonly mistook for that of acupboard. A step as light as mine was possibly a rarity on thisstaircase; for, coming down before my grandfather, I startled a lady inthe bar-parlour who had been doing something with a bottle whichinvolved the removal of the cork; which cork she snatched hastily from ashelf and replaced, with no very favourable regard to myself; andstraightway dropped on her knees and went to work with a brush and adustpan. She was scarce an attractive woman, I thought, being rusty andbony, slack-faced and very red-nosed. She swept the carpet and dustedthe shelves with an air of angry contempt for everything she touched,and I got into the bar out of her way as soon as I could. The potman wasflinging sawdust about the floor, and there, in the same corner, sat thesame pale, ragged man that was there last night, with the same fullglass of liquor--or one like it--by his side: like a trade fixture thathad been there all night.
When Grandfather Nat appeared, I learned the slack-faced woman's name."This here's my little gran'son, Mrs. Grimes," he said, "as is goin' tolive here a bit, 'cordin' as I mentioned yesterday."
"Hindeed?" said Mrs. Grimes, with a glance that made me feel morecontemptible than the humblest article she had dusted that morning."Hindeed? Then it'll be more work more pay, Cap'en Kemp."
"Very well, mum," my grandfather replied. "If you reckon it out morework----"
"Ho!" interjected Mrs. Grimes, who could fill a misplaced aspirate withsubtle offence; "reckon or not, I s'pose there's another bed to be made?An' buttons to be sewed? An' plates for to be washed? An' dirt an'litter for to be cleared up everywhere? To say nothink o' crumbs--whichthe biscuit-crumbs in the bar-parlour this mornin' was thick an'shameful!"
_I_ had had biscuits, and I felt a reprobate. "Very well, mum,"Grandfather Nat said, peaceably; "we'll make out extry damages, mum. Afew days'll give us an idea. Shall we leave it a week an' see how thingsgo?"
"Ham I to consider that a week's notice, Captain Kemp?" Mrs. Grimesdemanded, with a distinct rise of voice. "Ham I or ham I not?"
"Notice!" My grandfather was puzzled, and began to look a trifle angry."Why, damme, who said notice? What----"
"Because notice is as easy give as took, Cap'en Kemp, as I'd 'ave youremember. An' slave I may be though better brought up than slave-driversany day, but swore at vulgar I won't be, nor trampled like dirt an'litter beneath the feet, an' will not endure it neither!" And with agreat toss of the head Mrs. Grimes flounced through the staircase door,and sniffed and bridled her way to the upper rooms.
Her exit relieved my mind; first, because I had a wretched consciousnessthat I was causing all the trouble, and a dire fear that Grandfather Natmight dislike me for it; and second, because when he looked angry I hada fearful foreboding vision of Mrs. Grimes being presently whirled roundby the ear and flung into the street, as Jim Crute had been. But it wasnot long ere I learned that Mrs. Grimes was one of those persons whogrumble and clamour and bully at everything and everybody on principle,finding that, with a concession here and another there, it pays verywell on the whole; and so nag along very comfortably through life. Asfor herself, as I had seen, Mrs. Grimes did not lack the cunning tocarry away any fit of virtuous indignation that seemed like to push heremployer out of his patience.
My grandfather looked at the bottle that Mrs. Grimes had recorked.
"That rum shrub," he said, "ain't properly mixed. It works in the bottlewhen it's left standing, an' mounts to the cork. I notice it almostevery morning."
* * * * *
The day was bright, and I resigned myself with some impatience to waitfor an hour or two till we could set out for the docks. It was a matterof business, my grandfather explained, that he must not leave the bartill a fixed hour--ten o'clock; and soon I began to make a dim guess atthe nature of the business, though I guessed in all innocence, andsuspected not at all.
Contrary to my evening observation, at this early hour the larger barwas mostly empty, while the obscure compartment at the side was in fargreater use than it had been last night. Four or five visitors must havecome there, one after another: perhaps half a dozen. And they all hadthings to sell. Two had watches--one of them was a woman; one had alocket and a boatswain's silver call; and I think another had somesilver spoons. Grandfather Nat brought each article into thebar-parlour, to examine, and then returned it to its owner; whichbehaviour seemed to surprise none of them as it had surprised the manlast night; so that doubtless he was a stranger. To those with watchesmy grandfather said nothing but "Yes, that seems all right," or "Yes,it's a good enough watch, no doubt." But to the man with the locket andthe silver call he said, "Well, if ever you want to sell 'em you mightget eight bob; no more"; and much the same to him with the spoons,except that he thought the spoons might fetch fifteen shillings.
Each of the visitors we
nt out with no more ado; and as each went, thepale man in the larger bar rose, put his drink safely on the counter,just beyond the partition, and went out too; and presently he came back,with no more than a glance at Grandfather Nat, took his drink, and satdown again.
At ten o'clock my grandfather looked out of the bar and said to the paleman: "All right--drink up."
Whereupon the pale man--who would have been paler if his face had beenwashed--swallowed his drink at last, flat as it must have been, and wentout; and Grandfather Nat went out also, by the door into the passage. Hewas gone scarce two minutes, and when he returned he unlocked a drawerbelow the shelf on which the little ship stood, and took from it thecash box I had seen last night. His back was turned toward me, andhimself was interposed between my eyes and the box, which he rested onthe shelf; but I heard a jingling that suggested spoons.
So I said, "Did the man go to buy the spoons for you, Gran'fa' Nat?"
My grandfather looked round sharply, with something as near a frown ashe ever directed on me. Then he locked the box away hastily, with agruff laugh. "You won't starve, Stevy," he said, "as long as wits findsvictuals. But see here," he went on, becoming grave as he sat and drewme to his knee; "see here, Stevy. What you see here's my business,private business; understand? You ain't a tell-tale, are you? Not asneak?"
I repudiated the suggestion with pain and scorn; for I was at least oldenough a boy to see in sneakery the blackest of crimes.
"No, no, that you ain't, I know," Grandfather Nat went on, with a pinchof my chin, though he still regarded me earnestly. "A plucked 'un'snever a sneak. But there's one thing for you to remember, Stevy, aforeall your readin' an' writin' an' lessons an' what not. You must nevertell of anything you see here, not to a soul--that is, not about mebuyin' things. I'm very careful, but things don't always go right, an' Imight get in trouble. I'm a straight man, an' I pay for all I have inany line o' trade; I never stole nor cheated not so much as a farden allmy life, nor ever bought anything as I _knew_ was stole. See?"
I nodded gravely. I was trying hard to understand the reason for allthis seriousness and secrecy, but at any rate I was resolved to be notale-bearer; especially against Grandfather Nat.
"Why," he went on, justifying himself, I fancy, more for his ownsatisfaction than for my information; "why, even when it's on'y justsuspicious I won't buy--except o' course through another party. That'show I guard myself, Stevy, an' every man has a right to buy a thingreasonable an' sell at a profit if he can; that's on'y plain trade. An'yet nobody can't say truthful as he ever sold me anything over thatthere counter, or anywhere else, barrin' what I have reg'lar of thebrewer an' what not. I may look at a thing or pass an opinion, butwhat's that? Nothin' at all. But we've got to keep our mouths shut,Stevy, for fear o' danger; see? You wouldn't like poor old GrandfatherNat to be put in gaol, would ye?"
The prospect was terrible, and I put my hands about my grandfather'sneck and vowed I would never whisper a word.
"That's right, Stevy," the old man answered, "I know you won't if youdon't forget yourself--so don't do that. Don't take no notice, not evento me."
There was a knock at the back door, which opened, and disclosed one ofthe purlmen, who had left his boat in sight at the stairs, and wanted aquart of gin in the large tin can he brought with him. He was a short,red-faced, tough-looking fellow, and he needed the gin, as I soonlearned, to mix with his hot beer to make the purl. He had a shortconversation with my grandfather when the gin was brought, of which Iheard no more than the words "high water at twelve." But as he went downthe passage he turned, and sang out: "You got the news, Cap'en, o'course?"
"What? Viney and Marr?"
The man nodded, with a click and a twitch of the mouth. Then he snappedhis fingers, and jerked them expressively upward. After which heejaculated the single word "Marr," and jerked his thumb over hisshoulder. By which I understood him to repeat, with no waste oflanguage, the story that it was all up with the firm, and the juniorpartner had bolted.
"That," said Grandfather Nat, when the man was gone--"that's Bill Stagg,an' he's the on'y purlman as don't come ashore to sleep. Sleeps in hisboat, winter an' summer, does Bill Stagg. How'd you like that, Stevy?"
I thought I should catch cold, and perhaps tumble overboard, if I had abad dream; and I said so.
"Ah well, Bill Stagg don't mind. He was A.B. aboard o' me when Mr. Vineywas my mate many years ago, an' a good A.B. too. Bill Stagg, he makesfast somewhere quiet at night, an' curls up snug as a weevil. Mostlyunder the piles o' this here house, when the wind ain't east. Saves himrent, ye see; so he does pretty well."
And with that my grandfather put on his coat and reached the pilot capthat was his everyday wear.