Adventurous Seven
CHAPTER VII
The One-armed Man
The seven had hardly finished breakfast next morning when Mr. Wallisarrived. Surely never had an elderly gentleman taken to sightseeing withthe avidity displayed by this one, and every one of the seven Plumsteadsvoted him to be "a jolly decent sort".
His first move this morning was to take them across the harbour in asteam ferry to a small jetty opposite the Circular Quay, where theytranshipped to a tiny tug which took them to Farm Cove, round ClarkIsland, and past the other sights of that most wonderful harbour; andall the time he told them thrilling stories of the early days of theColony. He told them of the voyage of Captain Phillips, who set out fromPortsmouth in May, 1787, and arrived, with eleven ships, in Botany Bayin January, 1788, only to find that Botany Bay was by no means what ithad been represented, and, instead of the land being a series ofbeautiful green meadows sloping gently up from the shore, there wasnothing but swamp and sand.
"What an awful voyage! I don't think that we will complain about our fewweeks on board after that!" cried Sylvia, who was sitting close to Mr.Wallis on the deck of the tug, while Rupert sat on the deck at his feetand Rumple hovered in the background, all of them intent on getting allthe information they could about the new and wonderful country to whichthey had come.
"The voyage now is nothing but a pleasure trip compared with what itused to be in the days of the old sailing vessels," said Mr. Wallis, whowas immensely flattered at the attention given to his stories. He hadalways been very fond of telling people things, only the trouble wasthat so few seemed to care for what he had to tell; but these childrensimply hung on his words, and so he was inspired to do his very best tosatisfy their thirst for information.
"Botany Bay is south of Sydney Harbour, isn't it?" asked Rumple,producing the dirty notebook and preparing to take notes on a liberalscale.
"Yes, and because it is so open to the east there is no protection fromthe Pacific swell. Captain Phillips saw that it would be impossible tofound a colony there, and so he set out with one of his ships to find abetter harbour farther along the coast," went on Mr. Wallis. "And it issaid that a sailor named Jackson discovered the entrance to what is nowknown as Sydney Harbour, and it was named Port Jackson in honour ofhim."
"I wish that I could discover something that could be named after me,"said Rumple with a sigh. "Port Plumstead, or even Mount Plumstead, wouldhave an uncommonly nice sound, and I do want to be famous."
"There is fame of a sort within the reach of everyone," answered Mr.Wallis quietly.
"What sort of fame?" asked Rupert quickly. He had been very silentbefore, leaving it to the others to do most of the talking.
Mr. Wallis smiled, and his middle-aged countenance took on a look oflofty nobility as he said slowly: "We can each impress ourselves on ourfellows in such a way that so long as life lasts they must remember usbecause of some act or acts for the good of suffering humanity, andthat, after all, is the fame that lasts longest and is at the same timemost worth having. We can't all be explorers, you know, for there wouldnot be enough bays, mountains, and that sort of thing to go round; butthere are always people in need of help, pity, and comfort."
"I wanted to be a doctor," said Rupert in a voice that was more bitterthan he guessed. "But who ever heard of a lame doctor? Everyone would behowling for the physician to heal himself."
"There is no reason why you should not be a doctor that I can see: notif you do not mind hard work that is," said Mr. Wallis. "I have knownlame doctors and hump-backed doctors too; indeed one's own disabilitywould serve to make one all the more keen on doing one's best for otherpeople. In the Colony, too, there is not the money bar that exists inthe old country, because anyone can rise from the gutter here to anyposition almost that he may choose to occupy, and you are not in thegutter by any means."
"Not quite," replied Rupert with a laugh, and a lift of his head likeNealie.
The tour of the harbour took so long that they did not get back to thecity until the afternoon, and then their kind host carried them off totea at the Botanical Gardens, which were one of the finest sights thatany of them had seen. Ducky fairly screamed with delight at the lovelyflowers, while Don and Billykins could hardly be induced to leave theornamental waters where the water fowl congregated looking for food.
Nealie and Mr. Wallis came in search of them when tea was ready, andfound them absorbed in watching a toucan from America and a rhinoceroshornbill from Africa, which appeared to have struck up a friendship fromthe fact that they were both aliens.
"Come to tea, boys; you can inspect those creatures later if you wantto," said Mr. Wallis.
"I say, Nealie, what does the toucan want to have such a long billfor?" asked Billykins, slipping his arm through Nealie's as they walkedback to the tearooms together.
"Perhaps he did not want to have a long bill, but having it must needsmake the best of it," she answered, with a laugh, then suddenly grewgrave with pity and concern as a man with his right coat sleeve pinnedacross his breast passed them at the place where the path grew narrow.They all knew that for some reason it always made her sad to see aone-armed man, although she took no especial notice of people who hadbeen so unfortunate as to lose a leg. Mindful of this fact, Billykinswas trying to divert her attention by talking very fast about what hehad seen; but twisting his head round to see if the maimed stranger wasleaving the gardens or taking the other path which led by a picturesquebridge round to the other entrance to the tearooms, he was surprised tosee him stop and speak to Mr. Wallis, who was walking behind with Don.
"Did you see that man with one arm, who passed us just now and spoke tome?" said Mr. Wallis, joining Nealie and walking by her side.
"Yes, I saw him," she replied, her voice rather fainter than usual,while some of the fine colour died out of her cheeks.
"His is a most interesting and unusual case," went on Mr. Wallis. "Heis one of our very rich men now, and the funny part of it is that hedeclares he owes all his prosperity to the loss of his limb, which, butfor a mistake of the doctor's, he need not have lost at all."
"What do you mean?" she asked, stopping short in the path and staring athim with parted lips, her face so ghastly white that he asked heranxiously if she felt ill.
"No, no, it is nothing, thank you, but I want to hear about that man. Itsounds most awfully interesting; and won't you tell me what his nameis?" she said, turning such a wistful gaze upon him, that it seemed tohim there must have been some sorrow in her life, although she laughedin such a cheery, lighthearted way as a rule.
"Reginald Baxter. He is English, and came out to this country about sixor seven years ago. His people are very aristocratic, but poor as churchmice, and they were so terribly upset at his disaster they practicallycast him off; but he seems to have no false pride himself and nounnecessary notions of his own importance; but he is a veritable king offinance----"
"What is that?" demanded Don; but Billykins was watching Nealie with aclose scrutiny, and he had his fists clenched tightly as if he weremeditating some sort of revenge upon the innocent Mr. Wallis for thepain he was giving her in talking about the one-armed man.
"A king of finance is a man who has a natural gift for managing moneyand making it increase. I should not wonder if you develop a clevernessin that way yourself when you are a little older," said Mr. Wallis, whowas a keen student of human nature and had already amused himself bymentally forecasting the future of the seven.
"Perhaps I shall," answered Don stolidly. "Anyhow I don't mean to bepoor when I grow up, for I shall just go without things until I get alot of money saved, and Mr. Runciman used to say that money made money,and if a man could save one hundred pounds the next hundred would saveitself."
"Well done, Mr. Runciman, that is sound philosophy!" said Mr. Wallis,and was going to expound the art of money making still further whenthere came a sudden interruption from Billykins.
"Can't you talk about something else, please? You have made Nealie cryby going on so about that one-
armed man. She never can bear to talkabout them, and you didn't see that she did not like it," he said in ashrill and very aggrieved tone.
"Miss Plumstead, I am truly sorry. I had no idea that I was sayinganything to pain you. Please forgive me!" said Mr. Wallis in a shockedtone, for Nealie's face was covered with her handkerchief, and by theheave of her shoulders it was easy to see that she was crying bitterly.
"Oh, it is nothing, quite nothing, and I am very silly!" she saidnervously. "But somehow I never can bear to see men who have lost theirlimbs. It is so sad and hopeless, because, of course, they can never bethe same again, and life must be so very sad."
Mr. Wallis laughed in a cheerful manner. "I don't think that you wouldconsider Reginald Baxter a very sad man if you knew him. As I saidbefore, he looks upon the loss of his arm as his entrance into freedom,and it would be hard to find a happier man, I should think. But let usgo in and find some tea, and think no more about such matters."
Tea was such a merry function that no one had much time to notice thatthere was something wrong with Nealie, although she was so very quietthat Rupert asked her once if she did not feel well.
"Oh yes, I am quite well, thank you; only perhaps a little tired," shereplied, smiling at him in a rather wistful fashion; and then, as Sylviaclaimed his attention, he forgot about it, and there was so much to seeand to hear, with so many details of to-morrow's journey to discuss,that it is not wonderful he did not even remember Nealie had said shewas tired.
Later in the evening, when they were back at the hotel, the youngerones had gone to bed, and Mr. Wallis had gone away after bidding them amost affectionate good night, Nealie said abruptly: "There is somethingyou ought to know, Rupert, that I have always hated to tell you."
"Then don't tell it," put in Sylvia lazily. "I think that half themisery of the world comes through having to do unpleasant things, suchas going to bed when you want to sit up, and in having to get up bycandlelight on a dark morning in winter when you would far rather takeyour breakfast in bed."
"What is it? A trouble of some sort?" asked Rupert, with a start, for hewas remembering Nealie's low spirits at teatime and wondering where thetrouble came in.
"Yes," said Nealie shortly, and then hesitated as if not sure where tobegin.
"Well, you can enjoy it together, if it must be told, but I am going tobed, for it seems to me almost like a sacrilege to spoil such abeautiful day as this has been with even a hint of anything unpleasant,"said Sylvia, getting out of her easy chair in a great hurry. Then shesaid in quite a pathetic tone, as she kissed Rupert: "I wonder when weshall have easy chairs to sit in again; don't you?"
"I don't see that it matters very much; I am not gone on that sort ofthing myself," he replied briefly; and then he turned to Nealie, askingin a tone of grave concern, as Sylvia hurried away to bed: "Is itanything about Father, Nealie?"
"Yes," she said faintly. "That is to say, it is about the trouble thatcame before Ducky was born; you remember it?"
"I never knew more about it than that he made a mistake, some medicalblunder, for which he would have to live more or less under a cloud forthe remainder of his professional life. I thought it was all that any ofus knew, and Aunt Judith hated to have it mentioned." Rupert's tone wasfairly aggressive now, for he was quite abnormally sensitive on thissubject of his father's disgrace, which had indirectly cost his motherher life and had plunged the family into poverty, and bereft them oftheir father also.
"Mrs. Puffin told me all about it one day soon after Aunt Judith wastaken ill," said Nealie, her voice quivering now with emotion, for itwas terrible to her to have to talk of this thing which had thrown sucha shadow over their lives.
"How did she know?" demanded Rupert hotly, thinking how hateful it wasthat a servant should know more about their private skeleton than theyknew themselves.
"Aunt Judith told her," replied Nealie; and then she burst out hotly:"But indeed there is nothing to look so shocked about in the affair,Rupert. If Father did make a mistake, it was not so serious as it mighthave been; and I think that it was altogether wrong to hush it up as ithas been. There are some things which are all the better for being told,and I am quite sure that this is one of them."
"What do you mean?" he asked hoarsely. "I should think that a mistake ofthat kind should be buried as deep as possible, for who would be likelyto trust a doctor who might make blunders that might cost a man hislife?"
"It was not a life-or-death blunder in that sense, but only one ofmaiming," said Nealie hastily. "Father wanted to take off a man's arm tosave his life; but the family, and I suppose the man himself, would nothear of it, for the man was heir to someone's property, an awful pile itwas; and the someone--she was a woman--said that her money should nevergo to a man who was maimed. So of course the man's family would not hearof it, and they would not have another doctor called in either; andthings went on, the poor man getting worse and worse, until one dayFather declared that he would throw up the case, because he would not beresponsible for the man's life. Then the man said that it could be takenoff if Father liked, only it must be done without his people knowinganything about it, which was easy enough, seeing that he was beingnursed at his lodgings. Father sent for another doctor to come andadminister the chloroform, and he performed the operation himself, asthe man was too bad to be moved eight miles to the nearest hospital.There was a frightful week after that, when Father simply gave upeverything to pull the poor fellow through. He did it too, and therelatives did not know until he was out of danger that the arm had beenamputated."
"Whew, what a story!" said Rupert, mopping his forehead, on which theperspiration stood in great beads. "I think that Father was a hero,because he acted up to his principle--the true doctor principle--ofsaving life at no matter what cost to himself. But I don't mindadmitting, now that I know the truth, that I have always been afraid ofhearing that story, because I had got the impression that there wassomething really disgraceful behind."
"Poor Father has had to suffer as bitterly as if he had made the mostghastly blunder imaginable," said Nealie sadly. "The man's people had alot of influence, although they were not really wealthy, and when theyfound out that the arm had been taken off they simply hounded Fatherdown as if he were a criminal. He was boycotted in every direction, andin the end he had to get out of his practice in a hurry. Then Ducky wasborn, and Mother died; and there would have been no home for us at allif Aunt Judith had not opened her house to take us in."
"Poor Father!" murmured Rupert, and then he thrust his hands deep in hispockets, and sat staring at the floor, frowning his blackest, until, asudden thought striking him, he sat up straight, and asked abruptly:"What made you dig all that up to-day, after keeping it to yourself solong?"
"Because I met the man whose arm Father cut off," replied Nealiequietly.
"You did? Where?" demanded Rupert savagely, and looking as if he wouldlike to go and have it out with the man there and then.
"A one-armed man passed us in the Botanical Gardens, and Mr. Wallis toldme that a doctor had cut off his arm by mistake, and that the man's namewas Reginald Baxter; then I knew that it must be the man on whoseaccount Father had to suffer so badly."
"Did he--did he look very poor?" asked Rupert in a hesitating manner;for if the man had to lose his inheritance as a penalty for losing hisarm, it did seem as if the poor fellow should be pitied.
"He looked as well off as other people, that is to say, he was dressedin an ordinary way; but Mr. Wallis told me that he was one of therichest men in the city--a king of finance, he said he was," repliedNealie.
Rupert gave a long whistle, and then rose to his feet, yawning widely."So Father didn't balk the business so badly after all!" he said, andthen went to bed.