Page 1 of Deserted




  Produced by David Widger

  SAILORS' KNOTS

  By W.W. Jacobs

  1909

  DESERTED

  "Sailormen ain't wot you might call dandyfied as a rule," said the night-watchman, who had just had a passage of arms with a lighterman and beenadvised to let somebody else wash him and make a good job of it; "they'vegot too much sense. They leave dressing up and making eyesores oftheirselves to men wot 'ave never smelt salt water; men wot drift up anddown the river in lighters and get in everybody's way."

  He glanced fiercely at the retreating figure of the lighterman, and,turning a deaf ear to a request for a lock of his hair to patch afavorite doormat with, resumed with much vigor his task of sweeping upthe litter.

  The most dressy sailorman I ever knew, he continued, as he stood thebroom up in a corner and seated himself on a keg, was a young fellernamed Rupert Brown. His mother gave 'im the name of Rupert while hisfather was away at sea, and when he came 'ome it was too late to alterit. All that a man could do he did do, and Mrs. Brown 'ad a black eyetill 'e went to sea agin. She was a very obstinate woman, though--likemost of 'em--and a little over a year arterwards got pore old Brown threemonths' hard by naming 'er next boy Roderick Alfonso.

  Young Rupert was on a barge when I knew 'im fust, but he got tired ofalways 'aving dirty hands arter a time, and went and enlisted as asoldier. I lost sight of 'im for a while, and then one evening he turnedup on furlough and come to see me.

  O' course, by this time 'e was tired of soldiering, but wot upset 'immore than anything was always 'aving to be dressed the same and not beingable to wear a collar and neck-tie. He said that if it wasn't for thesake of good old England, and the chance o' getting six months, he'ddesert. I tried to give 'im good advice, and, if I'd only known 'ow Iwas to be dragged into it, I'd ha' given 'im a lot more.

  As it 'appened he deserted the very next arternoon. He was in the ThreeWidders at Aldgate, in the saloon bar--which is a place where you get apenn'orth of ale in a glass and pay twopence for it--and, arter beingtold by the barmaid that she had got one monkey at 'ome, he got intoconversation with another man wot was in there.

  He was a big man with a black moustache and a red face, and 'is fingersall smothered in di'mond rings. He 'ad got on a gold watch-chain asthick as a rope, and a scarf-pin the size of a large walnut, and he had'ad a few words with the barmaid on 'is own account. He seemed to take afancy to Rupert from the fust, and in a few minutes he 'ad given 'im abig cigar out of a sealskin case and ordered 'im a glass of sherry wine.

  He seemed to take a fancy to Rupert from the fust.]

  "Have you ever thought o' going on the stage?" he ses, arter Rupert 'adtold 'im of his dislike for the Army.

  "No," ses Rupert, staring.

  "You s'prise me," ses the big man; "you're wasting of your life by notdoing so."

  "But I can't act," ses Rupert.

  "Stuff and nonsense!" ses the big man. "Don't tell me. You've got anactor's face. I'm a manager myself, and I know. I don't mind tellingyou that I refused twenty-three men and forty-eight ladies onlyyesterday."

  "I wonder you don't drop down dead," ses the barmaid, lifting up 'isglass to wipe down the counter.

  The manager looked at her, and, arter she 'ad gone to talk to a gentlemanin the next bar wot was knocking double knocks on the counter with a pintpot, he whispered to Rupert that she 'ad been one of them.

  "She can't act a bit," he ses. "Now, look 'ere; I'm a business man andmy time is valuable. I don't know nothing, and I don't want to knownothing; but, if a nice young feller, like yourself, for example, wastired of the Army and wanted to escape, I've got one part left in mycompany that 'ud suit 'im down to the ground."

  "Wot about being reckernized?" ses Rupert.

  The manager winked at 'im. "It's the part of a Zulu chief," he ses, in awhisper.

  Rupert started. "But I should 'ave to black my face," he ses.

  "A little," ses the manager; "but you'd soon get on to better parts--andsee wot a fine disguise it is."

  He stood 'im two more glasses o' sherry wine, and, arter he' ad drunk'em, Rupert gave way. The manager patted 'im on the back, and said thatif he wasn't earning fifty pounds a week in a year's time he'd eat his'ead; and the barmaid, wot 'ad come back agin, said it was the best thinghe could do with it, and she wondered he 'adn't thought of it afore.

  They went out separate, as the manager said it would be better for themnot to be seen together, and Rupert, keeping about a dozen yards behind,follered 'im down the Mile End Road. By and by the manager stoppedoutside a shop-window wot 'ad been boarded up and stuck all over withsavages dancing and killing white people and hunting elephants, and,arter turning round and giving Rupert a nod, opened the door with a keyand went inside.

  "That's all right," he ses, as Rupert follered 'im in. "This is my wife,Mrs. Alfredi," he ses, introducing 'im to a fat, red-'aired lady wot wassitting inside sewing. "She has performed before all the crowned 'eadsof Europe. That di'mond brooch she's wearing was a present from theEmperor of Germany, but, being a married man, he asked 'er to keep itquiet."

  Rupert shook 'ands with Mrs. Alfredi, and then her 'usband led 'im to aroom at the back, where a little lame man was cleaning up things, andtold 'im to take his clothes off.

  "If they was mine," he ses, squinting at the fire-place, "I should knowwot to do with 'em."

  Rupert laughed and slapped 'im on the back, and, arter cutting hisuniform into pieces, stuffed it into the fireplace and pulled the dampersout. He burnt up 'is boots and socks and everything else, and they allthree laughed as though it was the best joke in the world. Then Mr.Alfredi took his coat off and, dipping a piece of rag into a basin ofstuff wot George 'ad fetched, did Rupert a lovely brown all over.

  "That's the fust coat," he ses. "Now take a stool in front of the fireand let it soak in."

  He gave 'im another coat arf an hour arterwards, while George curled his'air, and when 'e was dressed in bracelets round 'is ankles and wrists,and a leopard-skin over his shoulder, he was as fine a Zulu as you couldwish for to see. His lips was naturally thick and his nose flat, andeven his eyes 'appened to be about the right color.

  "He's a fair perfect treat," ses Mr. Alfredi. "Fetch Kumbo in, George."

  The little man went out, and came back agin shoving in a fat, stumpy Zuluwoman wot began to grin and chatter like a poll-parrot the moment she sawRupert.

  "It's all right," ses Mr. Alfredi; "she's took a fancy to you."

  "Is--is she an actress?" ses Rupert.

  "One o' the best," ses the manager. "She'll teach you to dance and shyassegais. Pore thing! she buried her 'usband the day afore we come here,but you'll be surprised to see 'ow skittish she can be when she has gotover it a bit."

  They sat there while Rupert practised--till he started shying theassegais, that is--and then they went out and left 'im with Kumbo.Considering that she 'ad only just buried her 'usband, Rupert found herquite skittish enough, and he couldn't 'elp wondering wot she'd be likewhen she'd got over her grief a bit more.

  The manager and George said he 'ad got on wonderfully, and arter talkingit over with Mrs. Alfredi they decided to open that evening, and poreRupert found out that the shop was the theatre, and all the acting he'dgot to do was to dance war-dances and sing in Zulu to people wot had paida penny a 'ead. He was a bit nervous at fust, for fear anybody shouldfind out that 'e wasn't a real Zulu, because the manager said they'd tear'im to pieces if they did, and eat 'im arterwards, but arter a time 'isnervousness wore off and he jumped about like a monkey.

  They gave performances every arf hour from ha'-past six to ten, andRupert felt ready to drop. His feet was sore with dancing and his throatached with singing Zulu, but wot upset 'im more than anything was anelderly old part
y wot would keep jabbing 'im in the ribs with herumbrella to see whether he could laugh.

  An elderly old party wot would keep jabbing 'im in theribs with her umbrella.]

  They 'ad supper arter they 'ad closed, and then Mr. Alfredi and 'is wifewent off, and Rupert and George