The Lively Poll by Robert Michael Ballantyne (best detective novels of all time .txt) 📕

him; and Pat Stiver was there because Bob was fond of _him_! Both were heartily welcomed.

Besides the improvement in Mrs Martin's health, there was also vast improvement in the furniture and general appearance of the attic since the arrival of the legacy.

"It was quite a windfall," remarked Mrs Lockley, handing in her cup for more tea.

"True, Martha, though I prefer to call it a godsend," said Mrs Martin. "You see it was gettin' so bad, what wi' standin' so long at the tub, an' goin' about wi' the clo'es, that I felt as if I should break down altogether, I really did; but now I've been able to rest it I feel as if it was going to get quite strong again, and that makes me fit to look after mother far better. Have some more tea, granny!"

A mumbled assent and a pleased look showed that the old woman was fully alive to what was going on.

"Hand the butter to Isa, Pat. Thankee," said the ex-washerwoman. "What a nice little boy your friend is, Bob Lumpy! I'm so glad you thought of bringin' him. He quite puts me in mind of what my boy Fred was at his age--on'y a trifle broader, an' taller, an stouter."

"A sort of lock-stock-an'-barrel difference, mother," said Fred, laughing.

"I dun know what you mean by your blocks, stocks, an' barrels," returned Mrs Martin, "but Pat is a sight milder in the face than you was, an I'm sure he's a better boy."

The subject of this remark cocked his ears and winked gently with one eye to his friend Bob, with such a sly look that the blooming bride, who observed it, went off into a shriek of laughter.

"An' only to think," continued Mrs Martin, gazing in undisguised admiration at her daughter-in-law, "that my Fred--who seems as if on'y yesterday he was no bigger than Pat, should have got Isa Wentworth--the best lass in all Gorleston--for a wife! You're a lucky boy!"

"Right you are," responded Fred, with enthusiasm. "I go wi' you there, mother, but I'm more than a lucky boy--I'm a highly favoured one, and I thank God for the precious gift; and also for that other gift, which is second only to Isa, the command of a Gospel ship on the North Sea."

A decided chuckle, which sounded like a choke, from granny, fortunately called for attentions from the bride at this point.

"But do 'ee really think your mission smack will do much good?" asked Martha Lockley, who was inclined to scepticism.

"I am sure of it," replied Fred emphatically. "Why, we've done some good work already, though we have bin but a short time wi' the fleet. I won't speak of ourselves, but just look at what has bin done in the way of saving drunkards and swearers by the _Cholmondeley_ in the short-Blue Fleet, and by the old _Ensign_ in the Fleet started by Mr Burdett-Coutts, the _Columbia_ fleet, and in the other fleets that have got Gospel ships. It is not too much to say that there are hundreds of men now prayin' to God, singin' the praises o' the Lamb, an' servin' their owners better than they ever did before, who not long ago were godless drunkards and swearers."

"Men are sometimes hypocrites," objected Martha; "how d'ee know that they are honest, or that it will last?"

"Hypocrites?" exclaimed Fred, pulling a paper hastily from his pocket and unfolding it. "I think you'll admit that sharp men o' bussiness are pretty good judges o' hypocrites as well as of good men. Listen to what one of the largest firms of smack-owners says: `Our men have been completely revolutionised, and we gladly become subscribers of ten guineas to the funds of the Mission.' Another firm says, `What we have stated does not convey anything like our sense of the importance of the work you have undertaken.'"

"Ay, there's something in that," said Martha, who, like all sceptics, was slow to admit truth.

We say not this to the discredit of sceptics. On the contrary, we think that people who swallow what is called "truth" too easily, are apt to imbibe a deal of error along with it. Doubtless it was for the benefit of such that the word was given--"Prove all things. Hold fast that which is good."

Fred then went to show the immense blessing that mission ships had already been to the North Sea fishermen--alike to their souls and bodies; but we may not follow him further, for Bob Lumsden and Pat Stiver claim individual attention just now.

When these enterprising heroes observed that the shades of evening were beginning to fall, they rose to take their leave.

"Why so soon away, lads?" asked Fred.

"We're goin' to see Eve Mooney," answered Bob. "Whatever are the boys goin' to do wi' them thick sticks?" exclaimed Martha Lockley.

"Fit main an fore masts into a man-o'-war, I suppose," suggested her husband.

The boys did not explain, but went off laughing, and Lockley called after them--

"Tell Eve I've got a rare lot o' queer things for her this trip."

"And give her my dear love," cried Mrs Fred Martin.

"Ay, ay," replied the boys as they hurried away on their self-imposed mission.


CHAPTER TWELVE.


THE ENTERPRISE FAILS--REMARKABLY.

The lads had to pass the "Blue Boar" on their way to Widow Mooney's hut, and they went in just to see, as Bob said, how the land lay, and whether there was a prospect of help in that quarter if they should require it.

Besides a number of strangers, they found in that den of iniquity Joe Stubley, Ned Bryce, and Groggy Fox--which last had, alas! forgotten his late determination to "leave the poor old stranded wreck and pull for the shore." He and his comrades were still out among the breakers, clinging fondly to the old wreck.

The boys saw at a glance that no assistance was to be expected from these men. Stubley was violently argumentative, Fox was maudlinly sentimental, and Bryce was in an exalted state of heroic resolve. Each sought to gain the attention and sympathy of the other, and all completely failed, but they succeeded in making a tremendous noise, which seemed partially to satisfy them as they drank deeper.

"Come, nothin' to be got here," whispered Bob Lumsden, in a tone of disgust, as he caught hold of his friend's arm. "We'll trust to ourselves--"

"An' the thumpin' sticks," whispered Pat, as they reached the end of the road.

Alas for the success of their enterprise if it had depended on those formidable weapons of war!

When the hut was reached the night had become so nearly dark that they ventured to approach it with the intention of peeping in at the front window, but their steps were suddenly arrested by the sight of a man's figure approaching from the opposite direction. They drew back, and, being in the shadow of a wall, escaped observation. The man advanced noiselessly, and with evident caution, until he reached the window, and peeped in.

"It's Dick," whispered Bob. "Can't see his figure-head, but I know the cut of his jib, even in the dark."

"Let's go at 'im, slick!" whispered Pat, grasping his cudgel and looking fierce.

"Not yet. We must make quite sure, an' nab him in the very act."

As he spoke the man went with stealthy tread to the door of the hut, which the drunken owner had left on the latch. Opening it softly, he went in, shut it after him, and, to the dismay of the boys, locked it on the inside.

"Now, Pat," said Bob, somewhat bitterly, "there's nothin' for it but the police."

Pat expressed strong dissent. "The p'leece," he said, "was useless for real work; they was on'y fit to badger boys an' old women."

"But what can we do?" demanded Bob anxiously, for he felt that time was precious. "You an' I ain't fit to bu'st in the door; an' if we was, Dick would be ready for us. If we're to floor him he must be took by surprise."

"Let's go an' peep," suggested the smaller warrior.

"Come on, then," growled the big one.

The sight that met their eyes when they peeped was indeed one fitted to expand these orbs of vision to the uttermost, for they beheld the thief on his knees beside the invalid's bed, holding her thin hand in his, while his head was bowed upon the ragged counterpane.

Bob Lumsden was speechless.

"Hold me; I'm a-goin' to bu'st," whispered Pat, by way of expressing the depth of his astonishment.

Presently Eve spoke. They could hear her faintly, yet distinctly, through the cracked and patched windows, and listened with all their ears.

"Don't take on so, poor man," she said in her soft loving tones. "Oh, I am _so_ glad to hear what you say!"

Dick Martin looked up quickly.

"What!" he exclaimed, "glad to hear me say that I am the thief as stole your mother's money! that I'm a low, vile, selfish blackguard who deserves to be kicked out o' the North Sea fleet--off the face o' the 'arth altogether?"

"Yes," returned Eve, smiling through her tears--for she had been crying--"glad to hear you say all that, because Jesus came to save people like you; but He does not call them such bad names. He only calls them the `lost.'"

"Well, I suppose you're right, dear child," said the man, after a pause; "an' I do think the Blessed Lord has saved me, for I never before felt as I do now--hatred of my old bad ways, and an _awful_ desire to do right for His sake. If any o' my mates had told me I'd feel an' act like this a week ago, I'd have called him a fool. I can't understand it. I suppose that God must have changed me altogether. My only fear is that I'll fall back again into the old bad ways--I'm so helpless for anything good, d'ee see."

"You forget," returned Eve, with another of her tearful smiles; "He says, `I will never leave thee nor forsake thee'--"

"No, I don't forget that," interrupted Dick quickly; "that is what the young preacher in the mission smack said, an' it has stuck to me. It's that as keeps me up. But I didn't come here to speak about my thoughts an' feelin's," he continued, rising and taking a chair close to the bed, on which he placed a heavy bag. "I come here, Eve, to make restitootion. There's every farthin' I stole from your poor mother. I kep' it intendin' to go to Lun'on, and have a good long spree--so it's all there. You'll give it to her, but don't tell her who stole it. That's a matter 'tween you an' me an' the Almighty. Just you say that the miserable sinner who took it has bin saved by Jesus Christ, an' now returns it and axes her pardon."

Eve gladly promised, but while she was yet speaking, heavy footsteps were heard approaching the hut. The man started up as if to leave, and the two boys, suddenly awakening to the fact that they were eavesdropping, fled silently round the corner of the hut and hid themselves. The passer-by, whoever he was, seemed