The Lifeboat

  CHAPTER NINE.

  UNBUSINESSLIKE PROCEEDINGS IN "THE OFFICE"--PEEKINS GROWS DESPERATE ANDTAKES REFUGE IN THE "THREE JOLLY TARS."

  Mr Denham stood in front of his office fire with a coat-tail, as usual,under each arm; his feet planted on two little roses that grew on eachside of a large bouquet which flourished perennially on his rug, and hiseyes fixed on the ceiling. He had just arrived at Redwharf Lane, andlooked quite fresh and ruddy from the exercise of walking, for Denhamwas a great walker, and frequently did the distance between his houseand his office on foot.

  Mr Crumps sat shivering in his own room, looking the reverse of ruddy,for Crumps was old and his blood was thin, and there was no fire in hisroom. It is but justice to say, however, that this was no fault ofDenham's, for the apartment of his junior partner did not possess afireplace, and it could not be expected that a fire should be lit, _ala_ Red Indian, on the middle of the floor. At all events Crumps didnot expect it. He was not, therefore, liable to disappointment in hisexpectations. He contented himself, poor old man, with such genialgusts of second-hand warmth as burst in upon him from time to time fromDenham's room when the door was open, or poured in upon him inameliorating rivulets through the keyhole, like a little gulf-stream,when the door was shut.

  "The letters, sir," said Peekins, the meek blue tiger in buttons,entering at that moment and laying a pile of letters on the table.

  Had Peekins been a little dog without a soul, capable of wagging histail and fawning, Denham would have patted him, but, being only a boy inblue with a meek spirit, the great man paid no attention to himwhatever. He continued to gaze at the ceiling as if he were reading hisdestiny there. Perhaps he would have looked as blank as the ceiling hadhe known what that destiny was to be; but he did not know, fortunately(or unfortunately, if the reader chooses), hence he turned with a calmundisturbed countenance to peruse his letters after the boy had retired.

  We do not say that Denham was a hard man; by no means; he was onlypeculiar in his views of things in general; that was all!

  For some time Denham broke seals, read contents, and made jottings,without any expression whatever on his countenance. Presently he tookup an ill-folded epistle addressed to "Mister Denham" in a round andrather rugged hand.

  "Begging," he muttered with a slight frown.

  "`Dear Uncle' (`eh!' he exclaimed,--turned over the leaf in surprise,read the signature, and turned back to the beginning again, with theleast possible tinge of surprise still remaining), `I'm sorry' (humph)`to have to inform you that the _Nancy_ has become a total wreck,'(`indeed!') `on the Goodwin Sands.' (`Amazing sands these. What aquantity of wealth they have swallowed up!') `The cargo has beenentirely lost,'--(`ah! it was insured to its full value,') `also two ofthe hands.' (`H'm, their lives wouldn't be insured. These roughcreatures never do insure their lives; wonderfully improvident!') `I amat present disabled, from the effects of a blow on the head receivedduring the storm.' (Very awkward; particularly so just now.) `No doubtBax will be up immediately to give you particulars.'" (Humph!)

  "`The cause of the loss of your schooner was, in _my_ opinion,' (MrDenham's eyebrows here rose in contemptuous surprise), `_unseaworthinessof vessel and stores_.'"

  Mr Denham made no comment on this part of the epistle. A dark frownsettled on his brow as he crumpled the letter in his hand, dropped it onthe ground as if it had been a loathsome creature, and set his foot onit.

  Denham was uncommonly gruff and forbidding all that day. He spokeharshly to old Mr Crumps; found fault with the clerks to such anextent, that they began to regard the office as a species of Pandemoniumwhich _ought_ to have smelt sulphurous instead of musty; and renderedthe life of Peekins so insupportable that the poor boy occupied his fewmoments of leisure in speculating on the average duration of human lifeand wondering whether it would not be better, on the whole, to makehimself an exception to the general rule by leaping off London Bridge athigh water--blue-tights, buttons, and all!

  Things continued in this felicitous condition in the office until fivein the afternoon, when there was a change, not so much in the moral asin the physical atmosphere. It came in the form of a thick fog, whichrolled down the crooked places of Redwharf Lane, poured throughkeyholes, curled round the cranes on the warehouses, and the oldanchors, cables, and buoys in the lumber-yards; travelled over themudflats, and crept out upon the muddy river among the colliers,rendering light things indistinct, black things blacker, dark placesdarker, and affording such an opportunity for unrestrained enjoyment tothe rats, that these creatures held an absolute carnival everywhere.

  About this period of the day Mr Denham rose, put on his hat andgreatcoat, and prepared to go. Peekins observed this through a privatescratch in the glass door, and signalised the gladsome news in dumb-showto his comrades. Hope at once took the place of despair in the office,for lads and very young men are happily furnished with extremely elasticspirits. The impulse of joy caused by the prospect of Denham'sdeparture was so strong in the breast of one youth, with red hair, a rednose, red cheeks, large red lips, blue eyes, and red hands (Ruggles byname), that he incontinently seized a sheet of blotting-paper, crumpledit into a ball, and flung it at the head of the youngest clerk, a darklittle boy, who sat opposite to him on a tall stool, and who, being anew boy, was copying letters painfully but diligently with a heavyheart.

  The missile was well aimed. It hit the new boy exactly on the point ofthe nose, causing him to start and prolong the tail of a y an inch and aquarter beyond its natural limits.

  This little incident would not have been worth mentioning but for thefact that it was the hinge, so to speak, on which incidents of a moreimportant nature turned. Mr Denham happened to open his door just asthe missile was discharged and saw the result, though not the thrower.He had no difficulty, however, in discovering the offender; for each ofthe other clerks looked at their comrade in virtuous horror, as thoughto say, "Oh! how could you?--please, sir, it wasn't _me_, it was _him_;"while Ruggles applied himself to his work with an air of abstraction anda face of scarlet that said plainly, "It's of no use staring in thatfashion at me, for I'm as innocent as the unborn babe."

  Denham frowned portentously, and that peculiarly dead calm which usuallyprecedes the bursting of a storm prevailed in the office. Before thestorm burst, however, the outer door was opened hastily and our friendBax stood in the room. He was somewhat dishevelled in appearance, as ifhe had travelled fast. To the clerks in that small office he appearedmore fierce and gigantic than usual. Peekins regarded him withundisguised admiration, and wondered in his heart if Jack theGiant-Killer would have dared to encounter such a being, supposing himto have had the chance.

  "I'm glad I am not too late to find you here, sir," said Bax, puffingoff his hat and bowing slightly to his employer.

  "Humph!" ejaculated Denham, "step this way."

  They entered the inner office, and, the door being shut, Rugglesinternally blessed Bax and breathed freely. Under the influence ofreaction he even looked defiant.

  "So you have lost your schooner," began Denham, sitting down in hischair of state and eyeing the seaman sternly. Bax returned the gaze somuch more sternly that Denham felt disconcerted but did not allow hisfeelings to betray themselves.

  "The schooner _has_ been lost," said Bax, "and I am here to report thefact and to present these letters, one from the seamen's missionary atRamsgate, the other from your nephew, both of which will show you thatno blame attaches to me. I regret the loss, deeply, but it was un--"

  Bax was going to have said unavoidable, but he felt that the expressionwould have been incorrect, and stopped.

  "Finish your remark," said Denham.

  "I merely wished to say that it was out of _my_ power to prevent it."

  "Oh!" interjected Denham, sarcastically, as he read the letters. "Theseamen's missionary is one of whom I know nothing. His opinion,therefore, carries no weight. As to my nephew, _his_ remarks are simplyunworthy of notice. But you say that no blame attaches
to _you_. Towhom then does blame attach, if not to the skipper of the vessel? Doyou mean to lay it at the door of Providence?"

  "No, sir, I do not," replied Bax.

  "Have you, then, the presumption to insinuate that it lies with _me_?"

  Bax was silent.

  "Am I to expect an answer?" said Denham.

  "I make no insinuations," said Bax, after a short pause; "I do but statefacts. If the `Nancy' had been fitted with a new tops'l-yard andjib-boom, as I advised last summer, I would have carried her safe intothe Downs."

  "So," said Denham, in a tone of increasing sarcasm, "you have thehardihood to insinuate that it was _my_ fault?"

  Bax reddened with indignation at the tone of insult in which these wordswere uttered. His bass voice grew deeper and sterner as he said:--

  "If you insist on plain speaking, sir, you shall have it. I _do_ thinkthe blame of the loss of the `Nancy' lies at your door, and worse thanthat, the loss of two human lives lies there also. There was not asound timber or a seaworthy article aboard of the schooner from stem tostern. You know well enough that I have told you this,--in more civillanguage it may be,--again and again; and I hope that the telling of itnow, flatly, will induce you to consider the immense responsibility thatlies on your shoulders; for there are other ships belonging to your firmin much the same condition--ships with inferior charts and instruments,unsound spars, not enough of boats, and with anchors and chains scarcepowerful enough to hold a Deal lugger in a moderate gale."

  Mr Denham was not prepared for this sudden and wholesale condemnationof himself and his property. He gazed at the seaman's flushedcountenance for a few seconds in mute surprise. At last he recoveredself-possession, and said in a calm voice--

  "You applied last year, if I remember rightly, for the situation of mateaboard our ship the `Trident'--now on her second voyage from Australia?"

  "I did," said Bax, shortly, not knowing how to take this sudden changeof subject.

  "Do you suppose," said Denham, with a peculiar curl of his lip, "thatthis interview will tend to improve your chance of obtaining thatsituation?"

  Denham put the question with the full expectation of humbling Bax, andwith the further intention of following up his reply with the assurancethat there was much greater probability of the moon being turned intogreen cheese than of his promotion taking place; but his intentions werefrustrated by Bax starting, and, in a voice of indignation,exclaiming--"Sir, do you suppose I have come here to beg? If you wereto offer me the _command_ of the `Trident,' or any other ship that youpossess, I would refuse it with scorn. It is bad enough to risk one'slife in the rotten craft you send to sea; but that would be nothingcompared with the shame of serving a house that thinks only of gain, andholds human life cheaper than the dirt I tread under my feet. No, sir;I came here to explain how the `Nancy' was lost. Having done so, I takemy leave."

  "Stay," said Denham, as Bax turned to go. "Perhaps you will do me onemore service before we part. Will you kindly inform my nephew that heneed not be in a hurry to come back here. I extend his leave. He maycontinue to absent himself as long as he pleases--to all eternity if itsuits him."

  Mr Denham flushed up with anger as he said the last words. Bax,without deigning a reply, turned on his heel and strode out of the room,slamming the glass-door behind him with such violence that every panelin it was shivered to atoms! He wheeled round and re-entered the room.Denham grew pale, supposing that the roused giant was about to assaulthim; but Bax only pointed to the door, and said sternly--"Part of thewages due me will pay for that. You can keep the balance, and buyyourself a Bible with it."

  Next moment he was gone, and Peekins stood staring at his master throughthe shattered door, trembling from head to foot. Immediately afterwardsDenham took his hat and stick, and passed through the office. Pausingat the door he looked back:--

  "Ruggles."

  "Yes, sir."

  "There are five or six foreign letters in my desk for tomorrow's post.Copy them out to-night. See that you do it _to-night_. Peekins willremain with you, and lock up after you have done."

  Ruggles, who knew that this involved work till near midnight, humblyreplied, "Yes, sir."

  Having thus secured the misery of at least two human beings, Denham wenthome, somewhat relieved, to dinner.

  Bax unconsciously, but naturally, followed his example. He also went todinner, but, having no home in that quarter, he went to the "Three JollyTars," and found the landlord quite willing to supply all his wants onthe shortest possible notice, namely, three-quarters of an hour.

  In a snug box of that celebrated place of entertainment, he found TommyBogey (whom he had brought with him) awaiting his appearance. Theprecocious youth was deeply immersed in a three-days'-old copy of _TheTimes_.

  "Hallo! Bax, you've been sharp about it," said Tommy, laying down thepaper and pulling a little black pipe out of his pocket, which heproceeded coolly and quietly to fill just as if he had been a beardedand grey-headed tar; for Tommy, being a worshipper of Bax, imitated, asall worshippers do, the bad as well as the good qualities of his hero,ignorant of, as well as indifferent to, the fact that it would have beenmore noble to imitate the good and avoid the bad.

  "Ay, we've settled it all slick off in no time," said Bax, sitting downbeside his young companion, and proceeding also to fill his pipe.

  "An' wot about the widders and horphans?" inquired Tommy, beginning tosmoke, and using his extremely little finger as a tobacco-stopper in away that might have surprised a salamander.

  "The widows!" exclaimed Bax.

  "Ay, the widders--also the horphans," repeated Tommy, with a grave nodof the head. "I 'ope he's come down 'andsome."

  "Tommy," said Bax, with a disconcerted look, "I've forgot 'emaltogether!"

  "Forgot 'em? Bax!"

  "It's a fact," said Bax, with much humility, "but the truth is, that wegot to loggerheads, an' of course you know it was out of the question totalk on such a subject when we were in that state."

  "In course it was," said Tommy. "But it's a pity."

  The fact was that Bax had intended to make an appeal to Mr Denham inbehalf of the widows and children of the poor men who had been drownedon the night when the "Nancy" was wrecked; but the unexpected turn whichthe conversation took had driven that subject utterly out of his mind.

  "Well, Tommy, it can't be helped now; and, after all, I don't think thewidows will come by any loss by my forgetfulness, for certain am I thatDenham would as soon supply a best-bower anchor to the `Trident' as givea sovereign to these poor people."

  Bax and his young friend here relapsed into a state of silent fumigationfrom which they were aroused by the entrance of dinner. This mealconsisted of beef-steaks and porter. But it is due to Bax to say thathe advised his companion to confine his potations to water, which hiscompanion willingly agreed to, as he would have done had Bax advised himto drink butter-milk, or cider, or to go without drink altogether.

  They were about done with dinner when a weak small voice in the passageattracted their attention.

  "Is there one of the name of Bax 'ere," said the meek voice.

  "Here I am," shouted Bax, "come in; what d'ye want with me?"

  Peekins entered in a state of great agitation.

  "Oh! sir, please sir,--I'll never do it again; but I couldn't help itindeed, indeed--I was dyin', I was. It's a great sin I knows, but--"

  Here Peekins burst into tears, and sat down on the seat opposite.

  "Wot a green 'un!" muttered Tommy, as he gazed at the tiger in bluethrough a volume of tobacco smoke.

  "What's the matter, boy?" inquired Bax, in some surprise. "Anythingwrong at Redwharf Lane?"

  "Ye-es--that's to say, not exactly, only I've run'd away."

  "You han't run far, then," said Bax, smiling. "How long is't since youran away?"

  "Just ten minutes."

  Tommy burst into a laugh at this, and Peekins, feeling somewhatrelieved, smiled idiotically through his tears.

/>   "Well now, my lad," said Bax, leaning forward in a confidential waywhich quite won the affection of the tiger, and patting him on theshoulder, "I would advise you strongly to go back."

  "Oh! sir, but I can't," said Peekins dolefully. "I dursn't. My life ismiserable there. Mr Denham is so 'ard on me that I feels like to dieevery time I sees 'im. It ain't o' no use" (here Peekins became wildlydesperate), "I _won't_ go back; 'cause if I do I'm sure to die slow; an'I'd rather die quick at once and be done with it."

  Bax opened his eyes very wide at this. It revealed a state of thingsthat he had never before imagined. Tommy Bogey puffed so large a cloudthat his face was quite concealed by it, and muttered "you _air_ a rum'un!"

  "Where d'ye stop, boy?" inquired Bax.

  "In lodgin's in Fenchurch Street."

  "D'ye owe 'em anything at the office?"

  "No, nothin'; they owes me seventeen and six."

  "D'ye want it very much?"

  "O no, I don't mind _that_, bless ye," said Peekins, earnestly.

  "What d'ye mean to do?" inquired Bax.

  "Go with _you_--to sea," replied the tiger, promptly.

  "But I'm not going to sea."

  "Then, I'll go with you wherever you please. I like you," said the boy,springing suddenly to his side and grasping his hand, "I've no one inthe world to care for but you. I never heard any one speak like you.If you'll only let me be your servant, I'll go with you to the end ofthe world, and--and--"

  Here poor Peekins was again overcome.

  "Bray_vo_!" shouted Tommy Bogey in admiration. "You're not such a badfellow after all."

  "Poor boy," said Bax, stroking the tiger's head, "you are willing totrust too easily to a weak and broken reed. But, come, I'll take you tothe coast. Better to go there, after all, than stop with such atender-hearted Christian as Mr Denham. Here, take a bit of dinner."

  Having tasted no food since breakfast, Peekins gladly accepted theinvitation, and ate heartily of the remnants of the meal, to the greatsatisfaction of his companions, especially of Tommy, who regarded him asone might regard a pet canary or rabbit, which requires to be fedplenteously and handled with extreme gentleness and care.