by W. W. Jacobs
surrounded by attentivefriends. In feeble accents she thanked Mr. Kidd for his noble attemptsat rescue.
"He ain't dry yet," said Mr. Brown.
"I done wot I could," said Mr. Kidd, simply. "Pore Joe! Nobody couldha' had a better pal. Nobody!"
"Always ready to lend a helping 'and to them as was in trouble, he was,"said Mr. Brown, looking round.
"'Ear, 'ear!" said a voice.
"And we'll lend 'im a helping 'and," said Mr. Kidd, energetically. "Wecan't do 'im no good, pore chap, but we can try and do something for 'eras is left behind."
He moved slowly to the door, accompanied by Mr. Brown, and catching theeye of one or two of the men beckoned them to follow. Under his ableguidance a small but gradually increasing crowd made its way to the "RedLion." For the next three or four days the friends worked unceasingly.Cards stating that a Friendly Lead would be held at the "Red Lion," forthe benefit of the widow of the late Mr. Joseph Gibbs, were distributedbroadcast; and anecdotes portraying a singularly rare and beautifulcharacter obtained an even wider circulation. Too late Wapping realizedthe benevolent disposition and the kindly but unobtrusive nature that haddeparted from it for ever.
Mr. Gibbs, from his retreat across the water, fully shared his friends'enthusiasm, but an insane desire--engendered by vanity--to be present atthe function was a source of considerable trouble and annoyance to them.When he offered to black his face and take part in the entertainment as anigger minstrel, Mr. Kidd had to be led outside and kept there until suchtime as he could converse in English pure and undefiled.
"Getting above 'imself, that's wot it is," said Mr. Brown, as they wendedtheir way home. "He's having too much money out of us to spend; but itwon't be for long now."
"He's having a lord's life of it, while we're slaving ourselves todeath," grumbled Mr. Kidd. "I never see'im looking so fat and well. Byrights he oughtn't to 'ave the same share as wot we're going to 'ave; heain't doing none of the work."
His ill-humour lasted until the night of the "Lead," which, largely owingto the presence of a sporting fishmonger who had done well at the racesthat day, and some of his friends, realized a sum far beyond theexpectations of the hard-working promoters. The fishmonger led off byplacing a five-pound note in the plate, and the packed audience breathedso hard that the plate-holder's responsibility began to weigh upon hisspirits. In all, a financial tribute of thirty-seven pounds three andfourpence was paid to the memory of the late Mr. Gibbs.
"Over twelve quid apiece," said the delighted Mr. Kidd as he bade hisco-worker good night. "Sounds too good to be true."
The next day passed all too slowly, but work was over at last, and Mr.Kidd led the way over London Bridge a yard or two ahead of the morephlegmatic Mr. Brown. Mr. Gibbs was in his old corner at the"Wheelwright's Arms," and, instead of going into ecstasies over the sumrealized, hinted darkly that it would have been larger if he had beenallowed to have had a hand in it.
"It'll 'ardly pay me for my trouble," he said, shaking his head. "It'svery dull over 'ere all alone by myself. By the time you two have 'adyour share, besides taking wot I owe you, there'll be 'ardly anythingleft."
"I'll talk to you another time," said Mr. Kidd, regarding him fixedly."Wot you've got to do now is to come acrost the river with us."
"What for?" demanded Mr. Gibbs.
"We're going to break the joyful news to your old woman that you're aliveafore she starts spending money wot isn't hers," said Mr. Kidd. "And wewant you to be close by in case she don't believe us.
"Well, do it gentle, mind," said the fond husband. "We don't want 'erscreaming, or anything o' that sort. I know 'er better than wot you do,and my advice to you is to go easy."
He walked along by the side of them, and, after some demur, consented, asa further disguise, to put on a pair of spectacles, for which Mr. Kidd'swife's mother had been hunting high and low since eight o'clock thatmorning.
"You doddle about 'ere for ten minutes," said Mr. Kidd, as they reachedthe Monument, "and then foller on. When you pass a lamp-post 'old yourhandkerchief up to your face. And wait for us at the corner of your roadtill we come for you."
He went off at a brisk pace with Mr. Brown, a pace moderated to one ofalmost funeral solemnity as they approached the residence of Mrs. Gibbs.To their relief she was alone, and after the usual amenities thanked themwarmly for all they had done for her.
"I'd do more than that for pore Joe," said Mr. Brown.
"They--they 'aven't found 'im yet?" said the widow.
Mr. Kidd shook his head. "My idea is they won't find 'im," he said,slowly.
"Went down on the ebb tide," explained Mr. Brown; and spoilt Mr. Kidd'sopening.
"Wherever he is 'e's better off," said Mrs. Gibbs.
"No more trouble about being out o' work; no more worry; no more pain.We've all got to go some day.
"Yes," began Mr. Kidd; "but--
"I'm sure I don't wish 'im back," said Mrs. Gibbs; "that would besinful."
"But 'ow if he wanted to come back?" said Mr. Kidd, playing for anopening.
"And 'elp you spend that money," said Mr. Brown, ignoring the scowls ofhis friend.
Mrs. Gibbs looked bewildered. "Spend the money?" she began.
"Suppose," said Mr. Kidd, "suppose he wasn't drownded after all? Onlylast night I dreamt he was alive."
"So did I," said Mr. Brown.
"He was smiling at me," said Mr. Kidd, in a tender voice. "'Bob,' heses, 'go and tell my pore missis that I'm alive,' he ses; 'break it to'er gentle.'"
"It's the very words he said to me in my dream," said Mr. Brown. "Bitstrange, ain't it?"
"Very," said Mrs. Gibbs.
"I suppose," said Mr. Kidd, after a pause, "I suppose you haven't beendreaming about 'im?"
"No; I'm a teetotaller," said the widow.
The two gentlemen exchanged glances, and Mr. Kidd, ever of an impulsivenature, resolved to bring matters to a head.
"Wot would you do if Joe was to come in 'ere at this door?" he asked.
"Scream the house down," said the widow, promptly.
"Scream--scream the 'ouse down?" said the distressed Mr. Kidd.
Mrs. Gibbs nodded. "I should go screaming, raving mad," she said, withconviction.
"But--but not if 'e was alive!" said Mr. Kidd.
"I don't know what you're driving at," said Mrs. Gibbs. "Why don't youspeak out plain? Poor Joe is drownded, you know that; you saw it all,and yet you come talking to me about dreams and things."
Mr. Kidd bent over her and put his hand affectionately on her shoulder."He escaped," he said, in a thrilling whisper. "He's alive and well."
"WHAT?" said Mrs. Gibbs, starting back.
"True as I stand 'ere," said Mr. Kidd; "ain't it, George?"
"Truer," said Mr. Brown, loyally.
Mrs. Gibbs leaned back, gasping. "Alive!" she said. "But 'ow? 'Ow canhe be?"
"Don't make such a noise," said Mr. Kidd, earnestly. "Mind, if anybodyelse gets to 'ear of it you'll 'ave to give that money back."
"I'd give more than that to get 'im back," said Mrs. Gibbs, wildly. "Ibelieve you're deceiving me."
"True as I stand 'ere," asseverated the other. "He's only a minute ortwo off, and if it wasn't for you screaming I'd go out and fetch 'im in."
"I won't scream," said Mrs. Gibbs, "not if I know it's flesh and blood.Oh, where is he? Why don't you bring 'im in? Let me go to 'im."
"All right," said Mr. Kidd, with a satisfied smile at Mr. Brown; "all ingood time. I'll go and fetch 'im now; but, mind, if you scream you'llspoil everything."
He bustled cheerfully out of the room and downstairs, and Mrs. Gibbs,motioning Mr. Brown to silence, stood by the door with parted lips,waiting. Three or four minutes elapsed.
"'Ere they come," said Mr. Brown, as footsteps sounded on the stairs."Now, no screaming, mind!"
Mrs. Gibbs drew back, and, to the gratification of all concerned, did notutter a sound as Mr. Kidd, followed by her husband, entered the room.She sto
od looking
