Dick himself, inwhich he told her that he was learning to read and write, that his firstletter was to her, that he was happy and doing well, and that never, nonever, never, _never_ would he be a thief any more; and he ended byhoping that when the spring came, Flo would pay him a little visit!
When this letter was shown to Miss Mary and to the widow, they agreedthat when the spring came this should be managed, and not only Flo, butMiss Mary herself, and the widow, and Scamp, and perhaps the widow'slad, should pay Dick a visit. And Flo pictured it all often in hermind, and was happy.
Her life was very bright just then, and in the peaceful influence of herpleasant home she was growing and improving in body and mind. She couldread and write a little, she could work quite neatly, and was very tidyand clever about the various little household works that Mrs Jenkstaught her; and Miss Mary smiled at her, and was pleased with her; andthought what a nice little servant she would make when Annie wasmarried; and Flo looked forward to this time with a grave, half-wistfulpleasure which was characteristic of her, never in her heart forgettingthat to be a good earthly servant she must be God's servant first.
Yes, her cup of happiness was full, but it was an earthly cup, anddoubtless her Heavenly Father felt He could do better for her--anyhowthe end came.
It came in this way. Since Flo arrived and Mrs Jenks had quitefinished making preparations for her lad's return, she had set her sharpwits to work, and discovered quite a famous receipt for getting up finelinen.
The secret of this receipt all lay in a particular kind of starch, whichwas so fine, pure, and excellent, so far beyond Glenfield's Starch, oranybody else's starch, that even old lace could be stiffened with it,instead of with sugar. Mrs Jenks made this starch herself, and throughMiss Mary's aid she was putting by quite a nice little supply of moneyfor Willie when he came home--money honestly earned, that could help toapprentice him to an honest trade by and by.
But there was one ingredient in the starch which was both rare andexpensive, and of all places in the world, could only be got good in acertain shop in Whitechapel Road. Mrs Jenks used to buy it of a littleold Jew who lived there, and as the starch was worthless without it, shegenerally kept a good supply in the house.
No Londoner can forget the severe cold of last winter, no poor Londonercan forget the sufferings of last winter. Snow, and frost, and hail,bitter winds, foggy days, slippery streets, every discomfort born ofweather, seemed to surround the great metropolis.
On one of these days in February, Mrs Jenks came home quite early, andas she had no more charing to get through, she built up a good fire, andset to work to make a fresh supply of starch. Flo sat at one side ofher and Scamp at the other, both child and dog watching her preparationswith considerable interest. She had set on a large brass pan, which shealways used on these occasions, and had put in the first ingredients,when, going to her cupboard, she found that very little more than atable-spoonful of the most valuable material of all was left to her.
Here was a state of affairs! She wrung her hands in dismay; all thecompound, beginning to boil in the brass pan, would be lost, and severalshillings' worth thrown away.
Then Flo came to the rescue. If Mrs Jenks stayed to watch what wasboiling, she--Flo--would start off at once to Whitechapel Road, and beback with the necessary powder before Mrs Jenks was ready for it.
The widow looked out of the window, where silent flakes of snow werefalling, and shook her head--the child was delicate, and the day--why,even the 'buses were hardly going--it could not be!
But here Flo overruled her. She reminded her of how all her life shehad roughed it, in every conceivable form, and how little, with herthick boots on, she should mind a walk in the snow. As to the 'buses,she did not like them, and would a thousand times rather walk withScamp. Accordingly, leading Scamp by his collar and chain, which MissMary had given him, she set off.
Mrs Jenks has often since related how she watched her walk across thecourt, such a trim little figure, in her brown wincey dress and scarletflannel cloak--another gift of Miss Mary's--and how, when she came tothe corner, she turned round, and, with her beautiful brown eyes full oflove and brightness, kissed her hand to the widow--and how Scamp dancedabout, and shook the snow off his thick coat, and seemed beside himselfwith fun and gaiety of heart.
She did not know--God help her--she could not guess, that the child anddog were never to come back.
The snow fell thickly, the wind blew in great gusts, the day was a worseone than Flo had imagined, but she held on bravely, and Scamp trotted byher side, his fine spirits considerably sobered down, and a thickcoating of snow on his back. Once or twice, it is true, he did lookbehind him piteously, as much as to say, "What fools we both are toleave our comfortable fireside," but he flinched no more than his littlemistress, and the two made slow but sure progress to Whitechapel Road.
They had gone a good way, when suddenly Flo remembered a famous shortcut, which, if taken, would save them nearly a mile of road, and bringthem out exactly opposite the Jew's shop. It led through one of themost villainous streets in London, and the child forgot that in herrespectable clothes she was no longer as safe as in the old rags.
She had gone through this street before--she would try it again to-day!
She plunged in boldly. How familiar the place looked! not perhaps thisplace,--she had only been here but once, and that was with her mother,--but the style of this place.
The bird-fanciers' shops, the rags-and-bones' shops, the gutterchildren, and gutter dogs, all painfully brought back her old wretchedlife. Her little heart swelled with gratitude at the thought of herpresent home and present mercies. She looked round with pity in hereyes at the wretched creatures who shuffled, some of them drunken, somestarving, some in rags, past her.
She resolved that when she was a woman she would work hard, and earnmoney, and help them with money, and if not with money, with tendersympathy from herself, and loving messages from her Father in heaven.
She resolved that she, too, as well as Miss Mary, would be a sister ofthe poor.
She was walking along as fast as she could, thinking these thoughts,when a little girl came directly in her path, and addressed her in apiteous, drawling voice.
"I'm starving, pretty missy; give me a copper, in God's name."
Flo stopped, and looked at her; the child was pale and thin, and herteeth chattered in her head. A few months ago Flo had looked like thischild, and none knew better than she what starvation meant. Besides thefive shillings Mrs Jenks had given her to buy the necessary powder, shehad sixpence of her own in her little purse; out of this sixpence shehad meant to buy a bunch of early spring flowers for her dear MissMary's birthday, but doubtless God meant her to give it to the starvingchild.
She pulled her purse out of her pocket, and drawing the sixpence fromit, put it into the hands of the surprised and delighted little girl.
"God bless yer, Missy," she said in her high, shrill tones, and she heldup her prize to the view of two or three men, who stood on the steps ofa public-house hard by. They had watched the whole transaction, and nowthree of them, winking to their boon companions, followed the child anddog with stealthy footsteps.
Flo, perfectly happy, and quite unconscious of any danger, was trippinggaily along, thinking how lucky it was for her that she had rememberedthis short cut, and how certain she was now to have the powder back intime for Mrs Jenks, when suddenly a hand was passed roughly round herwaist, while a dexterous blow in the back of her neck rendered herunconscious, and caused her to fall heavily to the ground.
The place and the hour were suitable for deeds of violence. In thatevil spot the child might have been murdered without any one raising afinger in her behalf. The wicked men who had attacked her seemed toknow this well, for they proceeded leisurely with their work. Onesecured the dog, while another divested Flo of her boots, warm cloak,and neat little hat. A third party had his hand in her pocket, haddiscovered the purse, and was about to draw it out, whereupon the threewould
have been off with their booty, when there came an interruption.
An unexpected and unlooked-for friend had appeared for Flo's relief.
This friend was the dog, Scamp. We can never speak with certainty as tothe positive feelings of the dumb creatures, but it is plain that eversince Flo turned into this bad street Scamp--as the vulgar saying hasit--smelt a rat. Perhaps it called up too vividly before his memory hisold days with Maxey--be that as it may, from the time they entered thestreet he was restless and uneasy, looking behind him, and to right andleft of him, every moment, and trying by all means in his power toquicken Flo's movements. But when the evil he dreaded really came hewas for the first instant stunned, and incapable of action: then hisperceptions seemed to quicken, he recognised a fact--a bare and dreadfulfact--the child he loved with all the love of his large heart, was indanger.
As he comprehended this, every scrap of the prudent and life-preservingqualities of his cur father