Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished: A Tale of City Arab Life and Adventure

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  MRS. FROG SINKS DEEPER AND DEEPER.

  "Nobody cares," said poor Mrs Frog, one raw afternoon in November, asshe entered her miserable dwelling, where the main pieces of furniturewere a rickety table, a broken chair, and a heap of straw, while theminor pieces were so insignificant as to be unworthy of mention. Therewas no fire in the grate, no bread in the cupboard, little fresh air inthe room and less light, though there was a broken unlighted candlestuck in the mouth of a quart bottle which gave promise of light in thefuture--light enough at least to penetrate the November fog which hadfilled the room as if it had been endued with a pitying desire to throwa veil over such degradation and misery.

  We say degradation, for Mrs Frog had of late taken to "the bottle" as alast solace in her extreme misery, and the expression of her face, asshe cowered on a low stool beside the empty grate and drew the shred oftartan shawl round her shivering form, showed all too clearly that shewas at that time under its influence. She had been down to the riveragain, more than once, and had gazed into its dark waters until she hadvery nearly made up her mind to take the desperate leap, but God inmercy had hitherto interposed. At one time a policeman had passed withhis weary "move on"--though sometimes he had not the heart to enforcehis order. More frequently a little baby-face had looked up from theriver with a smile, and sent her away to the well-known street where shewould sit in the familiar door-step watching the shadows on thewindow-blind until cold and sorrow drove her to the gin-palace to seekfor the miserable comfort to be found there.

  Whatever that comfort might amount to, it did not last long, for, on thenight of which we write, she had been to the palace, had got all thecomfort that was to be had out of it, and returned to her desolate homemore wretched than ever, to sit down, as we have seen, and murmur,almost fiercely, "Nobody cares."

  For a time she sat silent and motionless, while the deepening shadowsgathered round her, as if they had united with all the rest to intensifythe poor creature's woe.

  Presently she began to mutter to herself aloud--

  "What's the use o' your religion when it comes to this? What sort ofreligion is in the hearts of these," (she pursed her lips, and pausedfor an expressive word, but found none), "these rich folk in their silksand satins and broadcloth, with more than they can use, an' feedin'their pampered cats and dogs on what would be wealth to the likes o' me!Religion! bah!"

  She stopped, for a Voice within her said as plainly as if it had spokenout: "Who gave you the sixpence the other day, and looked after you witha tender, pitying glance as you hurried away to the gin-shop without somuch as stopping to say `Thank you'? She wore silks, didn't she?"

  "Ah, but there's not many like that," replied the poor woman, mentally,for the powers of good and evil were fighting fiercely within her justthen.

  "How do you know there are not many like that?" demanded the Voice.

  "Well, but _all_ the rich are not like that," said Mrs Frog.

  The Voice made no reply to that!

  Again she sat silent for some time, save that a low moan escaped heroccasionally, for she was very cold and very hungry, having spent thelast few pence, which might have given her a meal, in drink; and there-action of the poison helped to depress her. The evil spirit seemedto gain the mastery at this point, to judge from her muttered words.

  "Nothing to eat, nothing to drink, no work to be got, Hetty laid up inhospital, Ned in prison, Bobby gone to the bad again instead of goin' toCanada, and--nobody cares--"

  "What about baby?" asked the Voice.

  This time it was Mrs Frog's turn to make no reply! in a few minutes sheseemed to become desperate, for, rising hastily, she went out, shut thedoor with a bang, locked it, and set out on the familiar journey to thegin-shop.

  She had not far to go. It was at the corner. If it had not been atthat corner, there was one to be found at the next--and the next--andthe next again, and so on all round; so that, rushing past, as peoplesometimes do when endeavouring to avoid a danger, would have been oflittle or no avail in this case. But there was a very potent influenceof a negative kind in her favour. She had no money! Recollecting thiswhen she had nearly reached the door, she turned aside, and ran swiftlyto the old door-step, where she sat down and hid her face in her hands.

  A heavy footstep sounded at her side the next moment. She lookedquickly up. It was a policeman. He did not apply the expectedwords--"move on." He was a man under whose blue uniform beat a tenderand sympathetic heart. In fact, he was Number 666--changed from somecause that we cannot explain, and do not understand--from theMetropolitan to the City Police Force. His number also had beenchanged, but we refuse to be trammelled by police regulations. Number666 he was and shall remain in this tale to the end of the chapter!

  Instead of ordering the poor woman to go away, Giles was searching hispockets for a penny, when to his intense surprise he received a blow onthe chest, and then a slap on the face!

  Poor Mrs Frog, misjudging his intentions, and roused to a fit oftemporary insanity by her wrongs and sorrows, sprang at her supposed foelike a wildcat. She was naturally a strong woman, and violent passionlent her unusual strength.

  Oh! it was pitiful to witness the struggle that ensued!--to see a woman,forgetful of sex and everything else, striving with all her might tobite, scratch, and kick, while her hair tumbled down, and her bonnet andshawl falling off made more apparent the insufficiency of the rags withwhich she was covered.

  Strong as he was, Giles received several ugly scratches and bites beforehe could effectually restrain her. Fortunately, there were nopassers-by in the quiet street, and, therefore, no crowd assembled.

  "My poor woman," said Giles, when he had her fast, "do keep quiet. I'mgoing to do you no harm. God help you, I was goin' to give you a copperwhen you flew at me so. Come, you'd better go with me to the station,for you're not fit to take care of yourself."

  Whether it was the tender tone of Giles's voice, or the words that heuttered, or the strength of his grasp that subdued Mrs Frog, we cannottell, but she gave in suddenly, hung down her head, and allowed hercaptor to do as he pleased. Seeing this, he carefully replaced herbonnet on her head, drew the old shawl quite tenderly over hershoulders, and led her gently away.

  Before they had got the length of the main thoroughfare, however, afemale of a quiet, respectable appearance met them.

  "Mrs Frog!" she exclaimed, in amazement, stopping suddenly before them.

  "If you know her, ma'am, perhaps you may direct me to her home."

  "I know her well," said the female, who was none other than theBible-nurse who visited the sick of that district; "if you have notarrested her for--for--"

  "Oh no, madam," interrupted Giles, "I have not arrested her at all, butshe seems to be unwell, and I was merely assisting her."

  "Oh! then give her over to me, please. I know where she lives, and willtake care of her."

  Giles politely handed his charge over, and went on his way, sincerelyhoping that the next to demand his care would be a man.

  The Bible-woman drew the arm of poor Mrs Frog through her own, and in afew minutes stood beside her in the desolate home.

  "Nobody cares," muttered the wretched woman as she sank in apathy on herstool and leaned her head against the wall.

  "You are wrong, dear Mrs Frog. _I_ care, for one, else I should not behere. Many other Christian people would care, too, if they knew of yoursufferings; but, above all, God cares. Have you carried your troublesto Him?"

  "Why should I? He has long ago forsaken me."

  "Is it not, dear friend, that you have forsaken Him? Jesus says, asplain as words can put it, `Come unto me, all ye that labour and areheavy laden, and I will give you rest.' You tell me it is of no use togo to Him, and you don't go, and then you complain that He has forsakenyou! Where is my friend Hetty?"

  "In hospital."

  "Indeed! I have been here several times lately to inquire, but havealways found your door locked. Your husb
and--"

  "He's in prison, and Bobby's gone to the bad," said Mrs Frog, still ina tone of sulky defiance.

  "I see no sign of food," said the Bible-nurse, glancing quickly round;"are you hungry?"

  "Hungry!" exclaimed the woman fiercely, "I've tasted nothin' at allsince yesterday."

  "Poor thing!" said the Bible-nurse in a low tone; "come--come with me.I don't say more. You cannot speak while you are famishing. Stay,first one word--" She paused and looked up. She did not kneel; she didnot clasp her hands or shut her eyes, but, with one hand on thedoor-latch, and the other grasping the poor woman's wrist, she prayed--

  "God bless and comfort poor Mrs Frog, for Jesus' sake."

  Then she hurried, without uttering a word, to the Institution in GeorgeYard. The door happened to be open, and the figure of a man with whitehair and a kind face was seen within.

  Entering, the Bible-nurse whispered to this man. Another moment andMrs Frog was seated at a long deal table with a comfortable fire at herback, a basin of warm soup, and a lump of loaf bread before her. TheBible-nurse sat by and looked on.

  "Somebody cares a little, don't _you_ think?" she whispered, when thestarving woman made a brief pause for breath.

  "Yes, thank God," answered Mrs Frog, returning to the meal as thoughshe feared that some one might still snatch it from her thin lips beforeshe got it all down.

  When it was finished the Bible-nurse led Mrs Frog into another room.

  "You feel better--stronger?" she asked.

  "Yes, much better--thank you, and quite able to go home."

  "There is no occasion for you to go home to-night; you may sleep there,"(pointing to a corner), "but I would like to pray with you now, and reada verse or two."

  Mrs Frog submitted, while her friend read to her words of comfort;pleaded that pardon and deliverance might be extended, and gave herloving words of counsel. Then the poor creature lay down in her corner,drew a warm blanket over her, and slept with a degree of comfort thatshe had not enjoyed for many a day.

  When it was said by Mrs Frog that her son Bobby had gone to the bad, itmust not be supposed that any very serious change had come over him. Asthat little waif had once said of himself, when in a penitent mood, hewas about as bad as he could be, so couldn't grow much badder. But whenhis sister lost her situation in the firm that paid her such splendidwages, and fell ill, and went into hospital in consequence, he lostheart, and had a relapse of wickedness. He grew savage with regard tolife in general, and committed a petty theft, which, although notdiscovered, necessitated his absence from home for a time. It was whilehe was away that the scene which we have just described took place.

  On the very next day he returned, and it so happened that on the sameday Hetty was discharged from hospital "cured." That is to say, sheleft the place a thin, tottering, pallid shadow, but with no particularform of organic disease about her.

  She and her mother had received some food from one who cared for them,through the Bible-nurse.

  "Mother, you've been drinkin' again," said Hetty, looking earnestly ather parent's eyes.

  "Well, dear," pleaded Mrs Frog, "what could I do? You had all forsakenme, and I had nothin' else to comfort me."

  "Oh! mother, darling mother," cried Hetty, "do promise me that you willgive it up. I won't get ill or leave you again--God helping me; but itwill kill me if you go on. _Do_ promise."

  "It's of no use, Hetty. Of course I can easily promise, but I can'tkeep my promise. I _know_ I can't."

  Hetty knew this to be too true. Without the grace of God in the heart,she was well aware that human efforts _must_ fail, sooner or later. Shewas thinking what to reply, and praying in her heart for guidance, whenthe door opened and her brother Bobby swaggered in with an air that didnot quite accord with his filthy fluttering rags, unwashed face andhands, bare feet and unkempt hair.

  "Vell, mother, 'ow are ye? Hallo! Hetty! w'y, wot a shadder you'vebecome! Oh! I say, them nusses at the hospital must 'ave stole allyour flesh an' blood from you, for they've left nothin' but the bonesand skin."

  He went up to his sister, put an arm round her neck, and kissed her.This was a very unusual display of affection. It was the first timeBobby had volunteered an embrace, though he had often submitted to onewith dignified complacency, and Hetty, being weak, burst into tears.

  "Hallo! I say, stop that now, young gal," he said, with a look ofalarm, "I'm always took bad ven I see that sort o' thing, I can't standit."

  By way of mending matters the poor girl, endeavouring to be agreeable,gave a hysterical laugh.

  "Come, that's better, though it ain't much to boast of,"--and he kissedher again.

  Finding that, although for the present they were supplied with a smallamount of food, Hetty had no employment and his mother no money, ourcity Arab said that he would undertake to sustain the family.

  "But oh! Bobby, dear, don't steal again."

  "No, Hetty, I won't, I'll vork. I didn't go for to do it a-purpose, butI was overtook some'ow--I seed the umbrellar standin' handy, you know,and--etceterer. But I'm sorry I did it, an' I won't do it again."

  Swelling with great intentions, Robert Frog thrust his dirty littlehands into his trouser pockets--at least into the holes that oncecontained them--and went out whistling.

  Soon he came to a large warehouse, where a portly gentleman stood at thedoor. Planting himself in front of this man, and ceasing to whistle inorder that he might speak, he said:--

  "Was you in want of a 'and, sir?"

  "No, I wasn't," replied the man, with a glance of contempt.

  "Sorry for that," returned Bobby, "'cause I'm in want of a sitivation."

  "What can you do?" asked the man.

  "Oh! hanythink."

  "Ah, I thought so; I don't want hands who can do anything, I preferthose who can do something."

  Bobby Frog resumed his whistling, at the exact bar where he had leftoff, and went on his way. He was used to rebuffs, and didn't mind them.But when he had spent all the forenoon in receiving rebuffs, had madeno progress whatever in his efforts, and began to feel hungry, he ceasedthe whistling and became grave.

  "This looks serious," he said, pausing in front of a pastry-cook's shopwindow. "But for that there plate glass _wot_ a blow hout I might 'ave!Beggin' might be tried with advantage. It's agin the law, no doubt,but it ain't a _sin_. Yes, I'll try beggin'."

  But our Arab was not a natural beggar, if we may say so. He scorned towhine, and did not even like to ask. His spirit was much more like thatof a highwayman than a beggar.

  Proceeding to a quiet neighbourhood which seemed to have been forgottenby the police, he turned down a narrow lane and looked out for asubject, as a privateer might search among "narrows" for a prize. Hedid not search long. An old lady soon hove in sight. She seemed asuitable old lady, well-dressed, little, gentle, white-haired, atottering gait, and a benign aspect.

  Bobby went straight up and planted himself in front of her.

  "Please, ma'am, will you oblige me with a copper?"

  The poor old lady grew pale. Without a word she tremblingly, yetquickly, pulled out her purse, took therefrom a shilling, and offered itto the boy.

  "Oh! marm," said Bobby, who was alarmed and conscience-smitten at theresult of his scheme, "I didn't mean for to frighten you. Indeed Ididn't, an' I won't 'ave your money at no price."

  Saying which he turned abruptly round and walked away.

  "Boy, boy, _boy_!" called the old lady in a voice so entreating, thoughtremulous, that Bobby felt constrained to return.

  "You're a most remarkable boy," she said, putting the shilling back intoher purse.

  "I'm sorry to say, marm, that you're not the on'y indiwidooal as 'oldsthat opinion."

  "What do you mean by your conduct, boy?"

  "I mean, marm, that I'm wery 'ard up. _Uncommon_ 'ard up; that I'vetried to git vork an' can't git it, so that I'm redooced to beggary.But, I ain't a 'ighway robber, marm, by no means, an' don't want tofrighten
you hout o' your money if you ain't willin' to give it."

  The little tremulous old lady was so pleased with this reply that shetook half-a-crown out of her purse and put it into the boy's hand. Helooked at her in silent surprise.

  "It ain't a _copper_, marm!"

  "I know that. It is half-a-crown, and I willingly give it you becauseyou are an honest boy."

  "But, marm," said Bobby, still holding out the piece of silver on hispalm, "I _ain't_ a honest boy. I'm a thief!"

  "Tut, tut, don't talk nonsense; I don't believe you."

  "Vel now, this beats all that I ever did come across. 'Ere's a old'ooman as I tells as plain as mud that I'm a thief, an' nobody's betterable to give a opinion on that pint than myself, yet she _won't_ believeit!"

  "No, I won't," said the old lady with a little nod and a smile, "so, putthe money in your pocket, for you're an honest boy."

  "Vell, it's pleasant to 'ear that, any'ow," returned Bobby, placing thesilver coin in a vest pocket which was always kept in repair for coinsof smaller value.

  "Where do you live, boy? I should like to come and see you."

  "My residence, marm, ain't a mansion in the vest-end. No, nor yet awilla in the subarbs. I'm afear'd, marm, that I live in a district thatain't quite suitable for the likes of you to wisit. But--"

  Here Bobby paused, for at the moment his little friend Tim Lumpyrecurred to his memory, and a bright thought struck him.

  "Well, boy, why do you pause?"

  "I was on'y thinkin', marm, that if you wants to befriend us poor boys--they calls us waifs an' strays an' all sorts of unpurlite names--you'veon'y got to send a sov, or two to Miss Annie Macpherson, 'Ome ofHindustry, Commercial Street, Spitalfields, an' you'll be the means o'doin' a world o' good--as I 'eard a old gen'l'm with a white choker onsay the wery last time I was down there 'avin' a blow out o' bread an'soup."

  "I know the lady and the Institution well, my boy," said the old lady,"and will act on your advice, but--"

  Ere she finished the sentence Bobby Frog had turned and fled at the verytop of his speed.

  "Stop! stop! stop!" exclaimed the old lady in a weakly shout.

  But the "remarkable boy" would neither stop nor stay. He had suddenlycaught sight of a policeman turning into the lane, and forthwith took tohis heels, under a vague and not unnatural impression that if that limbof the law found him in possession of a half-crown he would refuse tobelieve his innocence with as much obstinacy as the little old lady hadrefused to believe his guilt.

  On reaching home he found his mother alone in a state of amusedagitation which suggested to his mind the idea of Old Tom.

  "Wot, bin at it again, mother?"

  "No, no, Bobby, but somethin's happened which amuses me much, an' Ican't keep it to myself no longer, so I'll tell it to you, Bobby."

  "Fire away, then, mother, an' remember that the law don't compel no oneto criminate hisself."

  "You know, Bob, that a good while ago our Matty disappeared. I saw thatthe dear child was dyin' for want o' food an' warmth an' fresh air, so Ithinks to myself, `why shouldn't I put 'er out to board wi' rich peoplefor nothink?'"

  "A wery correct notion, an' cleverer than I gave you credit for. I'mglad to ear it too, for I feared sometimes that you'd bin an' done it."

  "Oh! Bobby, how could you ever think that! Well, I put the baby out toboard with a family of the name of Twitter. Now it seems, all unbeknownto me, Mrs Twitter is a great helper at the George Yard Ragged Schools,where our Hetty has often seen her; but as we've bin used never to speakabout the work there, as your father didn't like it, of course I know'dnothin' about Mrs Twitter bein' given to goin' there. Well, it seemsshe's very free with her money and gives a good deal away to poorpeople." (She's not the only one, thought the boy.) "So what does theBible-nurse do when she hears about poor Hetty's illness but goes offand asks Mrs Twitter to try an' git her a situation."

  "`Oh! I know Hetty,' says Mrs Twitter at once, `That nice girl thatteaches one o' the Sunday-school classes. Send her to me. I want anurse for our baby,' that's for Matty, Bob--"

  "What! _our_ baby!" exclaimed the boy with a sudden blaze of excitement.

  "Yes--our baby. She calls it _hers_!"

  "Well, now," said Bobby, after recovering from the fit of laughter andthigh-slapping into which this news had thrown him, "if this don't beatcockfightin' all to nuffin'! why, mother, Hetty'll know baby the momentshe claps eyes on it."

  "Of course she will," said Mrs Frog; "it is really very awkward, an' Ican't think what to do. I'm half afraid to tell Hetty."

  "Oh! don't tell her--don't tell her," cried the boy, whose eyes sparkledwith mischievous glee. "It'll be sich fun! If I 'ad on'y the chance tostand be'ind a door an' see the meetin' I wouldn't exchange it--no notfor a feed of pork sassengers an' suet pud'n. I must go an' tell thisto Tim Lumpy. It'll bust 'im--that's my on'y fear, but I must tell 'imwotever be the consikences."

  With this stern resolve, to act regardless of results, Bob Frog went offin search of his little friend, whose departure for Canada had beendelayed, from some unknown cause, much to Bob's satisfaction. He foundTim on his way to the Beehive, and was induced not only to go with him,but to decide, finally, to enter the Institution as a candidate forCanada. Being well-known, both as to person and circumstances, he wasaccepted at once; taken in, washed, cropped, and transformed as if bymagic.