CHAPTER XXIX.
A MODERN KNIGHT OF CHIVALRY.
Draper's Mews and its purlieus were on fire with excitement, raised bya spark dropped by a vicious beetle-browed coster, whose chronic statefor years past had been too much beer, and liquor of a worse kind.Mrs. Death's neighbours were by no means unfavourably disposed towardsher and her family. The kindness of the poor to the poor isproverbial, and there is much less friction in the way of socialscandal among the lower classes than among those of higher rank. Thiswas exemplified in Draper's Mews, where the Death family had longresided, and had fought life's bitter battle in amity with all aroundthem. Now and then, of course, small differences had cropped up, butthey were soon got over, and there was no serious disturbance offriendly relations. To this happy state of things there was, however,an exception. It happened in this way.
Two or three years ago, on a bright summer day, the beetle-browedcoster wheeled his barrow through the poor neighbourhood, disposing ofhis stock of early cherries at fourpence the standard pound. Childrenwho had a halfpenny or a penny to spare, beggared themselvesincontinently, and walked about with cherry ear-rings dangling intheir ears, while some made teapots with fruit and stalks, andrefreshed themselves with imaginary cups of the finest leaf of China.Abel Death stood by, and looking at the children thought of his own,and fingered the few loose coppers in his pocket. Strange that fruitso tempting and young--the cherries were whitehearts, with thedaintiest blush on their innocent cheeks--should have been destined tobring sorrow to the hearts of those who were dear to the poor clerk!But in this reflection we must not forget the apple in the Garden ofEden.
Unable to resist the temptation Abel Death bought half a pound of thepretty things, and had received and paid for them, when he noticed anugly piece of lead at the bottom of the scale in which the fruit wasweighed. What made the matter worse was that on the coster's barrowwas displayed an announcement in blazing letters of vermilion, "Cometo the Honest Shop for Full Weight." Which teaches a lesson as to thefaith we should place in boisterous professions. Abel Deathremonstrated, the coster slanged and bullied, there was a row and agrowling crowd, some of whom had been defrauded in like manner, andamong the crowd an inspector of weights and measures, who, backed by aconstable, forthwith brought before the magistrate the cheat, thebarrow (the coster wheeling it), the innocent cherries, and the scaleswith the piece of lead attached to the wrong balance. The movingscene, with its animated audience laughing, babbling, explaining atthe heels of the principal actors in the drama, was almost as good ashow as a Punch and Judy. With tears in his eyes, which he wiped awaywith his cuff, the coster declared that he'd take his oath he didn'tknow how the piece of lead could have got on the bottom of the scale,all he could say was that some one who had a down on him must have putit there to get him in trouble, he'd like to find out the bloke, thathe would, he'd make it hot for him; and, despite this whining defence,was fined, would not pay the fine, and went to prison for seven days,whimpering as he was led from the court, "Wot's the use of a covetryin' to git a honest livin'?"
The result of this swift stroke of justice was a mortal enmity againstAbel Death. He proclaimed a vendetta, and waited for his chance,meanwhile avenging himself by kicking and cuffing the younger membersof the Death family when he met them, and encouraging his children todo the same. The chance came with the disappearance of Abel Death andthe discovery of the murder of Samuel Boyd. Forthwith he set light toa fire which spread with startling rapidity, and he went aboutinstilling his poison into the ears of Mrs. Death's neighbours. Henceher agony of mind.
Dick traced the rumours to their fountain head, found the man, talkedto him, argued with him--in vain. It was a public matter, and theusual crowd collected.
"Look 'ere," cried the coster, to Dick, "we don't want none o' _your_cheek, we don't. Who are you, I'd like to know, puttin' _your_ spokein? A innercent man, is 'e? Looks like it, don't it? Wot's theinnercent man a-keepin' out of the way for? Why don't 'e come 'ome?Tell me that? 'Ere, I'll wait till you've made up somethink, somethinktasty, yer know. Take yer time. Wot! Ain't got a bloomin' word to sayfor yerself? Wot do you think?" Appealing to the people surroundingthem. "'E's a nice sort o' chap to come palaverin' to me, ain't 'e?"
The listeners were not all of one mind, many of them, indeed, beingmindless. Some took one side, some took another, while Mrs. Death andGracie stood by, pitiful, white-faced spectators of the scene.
"Why, it's as clear as mud," continued the coster. "The sneakin' thiefkilled 'is master, and then laid 'ands on everythink 'e could collar,and cut away. Put them things together, and there you are, yer know."
"I know where _you'll_ be," said Dick, speaking in his best judicialmanner, "if you're not careful. It won't be the first time you've gotyourself in trouble." The shot told, and the listeners wavered. "We'reEnglishmen, I believe," said Dick, following up his advantage. "Wedon't carry knives like the Italians, or fight with our legs like theFrench, and we're not made in Germany." This cosmopolitan referencewas an immense hit, and two or three politicians said "Hear, hear!"Dick went on. "We fight with our fists, and we don't hit a man whenhe's down. What we insist upon is fair play; that's what we wave ourflag for--fair play. Look at Mrs. Death, a hard-working, respectablewoman, that's lived among you all these years, and never done one ofyou an ill turn. Look at her innocent children that this great hulkingbrute is flinging stones at. It's cowardly, sneaking work. Oh, I'm notafraid of you, my man; if you lift your hand against me I'll give yousomething to remember me by. You haven't the pluck to hit one of yourown size; you only hit women and children. I don't believe you've gota drop of English blood in your cowardly carcase." With sparkling eyesand glowing face he turned to the crowd. "I appeal to a jury ofEnglish men and women. Is what this brute is doing manly, is it fair,is it English--that's the point, is it English?"
There was no doubt now as to the sympathy. It went out full and freeto Mrs. Death and Gracie, who stood, as it were, in the dock, with thebeetle-browed, sodden-faced coster accusing them, and this generous,bright-eyed, open-faced young fellow defending them. A woman who had agood recollection of the cherry incident, called out, "Cherries!" andthey all began to laugh. This laughter completely settled the matter;the victory was won. The coster slunk off.
Dick was overwhelmed with congratulations, and Mrs. Death castgrateful glances at him, and wistful glances at her old friends andneighbours. They answered the mute appeal by thronging about her. Toher they said, "Never you mind, my dear, we'll see you righted." Andto Dick, "You spoke up like a man, sir, and we're proud of you." Whichhe capped, rather vaguely, by retorting, "I'm proud of _you_. You'rethe sort of women that have made England what it is. Wives andmothers, that's what _you_ are." A shrill voice called out, "Not allof us, sir," amid shouts of laughter, which caused Dick to add, "ThenI hope you soon _will_ be." This happy rejoinder won him the admiringglances of all the single women, many of whom (as yet unattached)breathed silent aspirations that heaven would send them such a man. Atthe worst of times Dick was a good-looking young fellow; seen now athis best, glowing with fervour, and espousing the cause of the weak,he was positively handsome. What wonder that maiden hearts werefluttering! He could have picked and chosen.
Dr. Vinsen had been an amused witness of the encounter.
"My young friend," he said, "my dear young friend, victorious again,always victorious; and in eloquence a Demosthenes. Accept mycongratulations. Mrs. Death, take your little girl home and put her tobed, then apply a hot linseed poultice. I will call upon you to-morrowmorning. Mr. Dick Remington--pardon the familiarity, but Dick is soappropriate--I salute you--sal-ute you."
Dick nodded good-day, and turned off with Gracie.
"Oh, Dick," she said, fondling his hand, "you're splendid, splendid!"No knight of chivalry in "the good old times" (which were much worsethan the present) ever inspired deeper admiration in the breast oflady fair than Dick did in the breast of this poor little waif. "Itold you, mothe
r, it would be all right if we had Dick with us."
"Yes, you did, dear."
"Don't I wish I was old enough to walk out with you!" said Gracie.
"How do you know I'm not a married man, Gracie?" he asked.
"Go along!" she replied, with a touch of scorn. "As if I don't knowthe married ones by only looking at 'em!"
"You mustn't mind her foolishness, sir," said Mrs. Death. "She saysthe silliest things! We're very grateful to you, sir."
"Oh, nonsense," he said, "anyone else would have done the same."
"They wouldn't," said Gracie. "They couldn't."
With a kind pressure of their hands he turned in the direction of AuntRob's house, where a very different task awaited him.
Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery Page 30
