The Lady of the Barge by W. W. Jacobs (best novels to read in english txt) 📕

The excitement of that last little bit was ’orrible. Fust of all we ’ad got to get the mattress, and then in some way we ’ad got to get rid o’ Jimmy. Bill’s idea was for me to take ’im ashore with me and tell ’im that Bill would join us arterwards, and then lose ’im; but I said that till I’d got my share I couldn’t bear to lose sight o’ Bill’s honest face for ’alf a second.

And, besides, Jimmy wouldn’t ’ave gone.

All the way up the river ’e stuck to Bill, and kept asking ’im wot we were to do. ’E was ’alf crying, and so excited that Bill was afraid the other chaps would notice it.

We got to our berth in the East India Docks at last, and arter we were made fast we went below to ’ave a wash and change into our shoregoing togs. Jimmy watched us all the time, and then ’e comes up to Bill biting ’is nails, and says:

“How’s it to be done, Bill?”

“Hang about arter the rest ’ave gone ashore, and trust to luck,” says Bill, looking at me. “We’ll see ’ow the land lays when we draw our advance.”

We went down aft to draw ten shillings each to go ashore with. Bill and me got ours fust, and then the second mate who ’ad tipped ’im the wink followed us out unconcerned-like and ’anded Bill the mattress rolled up in a sack.

“ ’Ere you are, Bill,” ’e says.

“Much obliged, sir,” says Bill, and ’is ’ands trembled so as ’e could ’ardly ’old it, and ’e made to go off afore Jimmy come on deck.

Then that fool of a mate kept us there while ’e made a little speech. Twice Bill made to go off, but ’e put ’is ’and on ’is arm and kept ’im there while ’e told ’im ’ow he’d always tried to be liked by the men, and ’ad generally succeeded, and in the middle of it up popped Master Jimmy.

He gave a start as he saw the bag, and ’is eyes opened wide, and then as we walked forward ’e put ’is arm through Bill’s and called ’im all the names ’e could think of.

“You’d steal the milk out of a cat’s saucer,” ’e says; “but mind, you don’t leave this ship till I’ve got my share.”

“I meant it for a pleasant surprise for you, Jimmy,” says Bill, trying to smile.

“I don’t like your surprises, Bill, so I don’t deceive you,” says the boy. “Where are you going to open it?”

“I was thinking of opening it in my bunk,” says Bill. “The perlice might want to examine it if we took it through the dock. Come on, Jimmy, old man.”

“Yes; all right,” says the boy, nodding ’is ’ead at ’im. “I’ll stay up ’ere. You might forget yourself, Bill, if I trusted myself down there with you alone. You can throw my share up to me, and then you’ll leave the ship afore I do. See?”

“Go to blazes,” says Bill; and then, seeing that the last chance ’ad gone, we went below, and ’e chucked the bundle in ’is bunk. There was only one chap down there, and arter spending best part o’ ten minutes doing ’is hair ’e nodded to us and went off.

Half a minute later Bill cut open the mattress and began to search through the stuffing, while I struck matches and watched ’im. It wasn’t a big mattress and there wasn’t much stuffing, but we couldn’t seem to see that money. Bill went all over it ag’in and ag’in, and then ’e stood up and looked at me and caught ’is breath painful.

“Do you think the mate found it?” ’e says, in a ’usky voice.

We went through it ag’in, and then Bill went halfway up the fo’c’s’le ladder and called softly for Jimmy. He called three times, and then, with a sinking sensation in ’is stummick, ’e went up on deck and I follered ’im. The boy was nowhere to be seen. All we saw was the ship’s cat ’aving a wash and brush-up afore going ashore, and the skipper standing aft talking to the owner.

We never saw that boy ag’in. He never turned up for ’is box, and ’e didn’t show up to draw ’is pay. Everybody else was there, of course, and arter I’d got mine and come outside I see pore Bill with ’is back up ag’in a wall, staring ’ard at the second mate, who was looking at ’im with a kind smile, and asking ’im ’ow he’d slept. The last thing I saw of Bill, the pore chap ’ad got ’is ’ands in ’is trousers pockets, and was trying ’is hardest to smile back.

Two men stood in the billiard-room of an old country house, talking. Play, which had been of a halfhearted nature, was over, and they sat at the open window, looking out over the park stretching away beneath them, conversing idly.

“Your time’s nearly up, Jem,” said one at length, “this time six weeks you’ll be yawning out the honeymoon and cursing the man⁠—woman I mean⁠—who invented them.”

Jem Benson stretched his long limbs in the chair and grunted in dissent.

“I’ve never understood it,” continued Wilfred Carr, yawning. “It’s not in my line at all; I never had enough money for my own wants, let alone for two. Perhaps if I were as rich as you or Croesus I might regard it differently.”

There was just sufficient meaning in the latter part of the remark for his cousin to forbear to reply to it. He continued to gaze out of the window and to smoke slowly.

“Not being as rich as Croesus⁠—or you,” resumed Carr, regarding him from beneath lowered lids, “I paddle my own canoe down the stream of Time, and, tying it to my friends’ doorposts, go in to eat their dinners.”

“Quite Venetian,” said Jem Benson, still looking out of the window.