Keeping Watch
Page 1
Produced by David Widger
NIGHT WATCHES
by W.W. Jacobs
KEEPING WATCH
"Human natur'!" said the night-watchman, gazing fixedly at a prettygirl in a passing waterman's skiff. "Human natur'!"
He sighed, and, striking a match, applied it to his pipe and sat smokingthoughtfully.
"The young fellow is pretending that his arm is at the back of her byaccident," he continued; "and she's pretending not to know that it'sthere. When he's allowed to put it round 'er waist whenever he wishes,he won't want to do it. She's artful enough to know that, and that'swhy they are all so stand-offish until the thing is settled. She'llmove forward 'arf an inch presently, and 'arf a minute arterwards she'lllean back agin without thinking. She's a nice-looking gal, and what shecan see in a tailor's dummy like that, I can't think."
He leaned back on his box and, folding his arms, emitted a cloud ofsmoke.
"Human natur's a funny thing. I've seen a lot of it in my time, and ifI was to 'ave my life all over agin I expect I should be just as sillyas them two in the skiff. I've known the time when I would spend moneyas free over a gal as I would over myself. I on'y wish I'd got all themoney now that I've spent on peppermint lozenges.
"That gal in the boat reminds me o' one I used to know a few years ago.Just the same innercent baby look--a look as if butter wouldn't melt in'er mouth--and a artful disposition that made me sorry for 'er sects.
"She used to come up to this wharf once a week in a schooner called theBelle. Her father, Cap'n Butt, was a widow-man, and 'e used to bringher with 'im, partly for company and partly because 'e could keep 'iseye on her. Nasty eye it, was, too, when he 'appened to be out o'temper.
"I'd often took a bit o' notice o' the gal; just giving 'er a kind smilenow and then as she sat on deck, and sometimes--when 'er father wasn'tlooking--she'd smile back. Once, when 'e was down below, she laughedright out. She was afraid of 'im, and by and by I noticed that shedaren't even get off the ship and walk up and down the wharf withoutasking 'im. When she went out 'e was with 'er, and, from one or twonasty little snacks I 'appened to overhear when the skipper thought Iwas too far away, I began to see that something was up.
"It all came out one evening, and it only came out because the skipperwanted my help. I was standing leaning on my broom to get my breathback arter a bit o' sweeping, when he came up to me, and I knew at once,by the nice way 'e spoke, that he wanted me to do something for 'im.
"'Come and 'ave a pint, Bill,' he ses.
"I put my broom agin the wall, and we walked round to the Bull's Headlike a couple o' brothers. We 'ad two pints apiece, and then he put his'and on my shoulder and talked as man to man.
"'I'm in a little bit o' difficulty about that gal o' mine,' he ses,passing me his baccy-box. 'Six months ago she dropped a letter out of'er pocket, and I'm blest if it wasn't from a young man. A young man!'
"'You sur-prise me,' I ses, meaning to be sarcastic.
"'I surprised her,' he ses, looking very fierce. 'I went to 'er box andI found a pile of 'em-a pile of 'em-tied up with a piece o' pink ribbon.And a photygraph of my lord. And of all the narrer-chested, weak-eyed,slack-baked, spindly-legged sons of a gun you ever saw in your life, heis the worst. If I on'y get my 'ands on him I'll choke 'im with his ownfeet.'
"He washed 'is mouth out with a drop o' beer and stood scowling at thefloor.
"'Arter I've choked 'im I'll twist his neck,' he ses. 'If he 'ad on'yput his address on 'is letters, I'd go round and do it now. And mydaughter, my only daughter, won't tell me where he lives.'
"'She ought to know better,' I ses.
"He took hold o' my 'and and shook it. 'You've got more sense than one'ud think to look at you, Bill,' he ses, not thinking wot he was saying.'You see wot a mess I'm in.'
"'Yes,' I ses.
"'I'm a nurse, that's wot I am,' he ses, very savage. 'Just anursemaid. I can't move 'and or foot without that gal. 'Ow'd you likeit, yourself, Bill?'
"'It must be very orkard for you,' I ses. 'Very orkard indeed.'
"'Orkard !' he ses; 'it's no name for it, Bill. I might as well be aSunday-school teacher, and ha' done with it. I never 'ad such a dulltime in all my life. Never. And the worst of it is, it's spiling mytemper. And all because o' that narrer-eyed, red-chested--you know wotI mean!'
"He took another mouthful o' beer, and then he took 'old of my arm.'Bill,' he ses, very earnest, 'I want you to do me a favour.'
"'Go ahead,' I ses.
"'I've got to meet a pal at Charing Cross at ha'-past seven,' he ses;'and we're going to make a night of it. I've left Winnie in charge o'the cook, and I've told 'im plain that, if she ain't there when I comeback, I'll skin 'im alive. Now, I want you to watch 'er, too. Keep thegate locked, and don't let anybody in you don't know. Especially thatmonkey-faced imitation of a man. Here 'e is. That's his likeness.'
"He pulled a photygraph out of 'is coatpocket and 'anded it to me.
"'That's 'im,' he ses. 'Fancy a gal getting love-letters from a thinglike that! And she was on'y twenty last birthday. Keep your eye on'er, Bill, and don't let 'er out of your sight. You're worth two o' thecook.'
"He finished 'is beer, and, cuddling my arm, stepped back to the wharf.Miss Butt was sitting on the cabin skylight reading a book, and old Joe,the cook, was standing near 'er pretending to swab the decks with a mop.
"'I've got to go out for a little while--on business,' ses the skipper.'I don't s'pose I shall be long, and, while I'm away, Bill and the cookwill look arter you.'
"Miss Butt wrinkled up 'er shoulders.
"'The gate'll be locked, and you're not to leave the wharf. D'ye 'ear?'
"The gal wriggled 'er shoulders agin and went on reading, but she gavethe cook a look out of 'er innercent baby eyes that nearly made 'im dropthe mop.
"'Them's my orders,' ses the skipper, swelling his chest and lookinground, 'to everybody. You know wot'll 'appen to you, Joe, if thingsain't right when I come back. Come along, Bill, and lock the gate arterme. An' mind, for your own sake, don't let anything 'appen to that galwhile I'm away.'
"'Wot time'll you be back?' I ses, as 'e stepped through the wicket.
"'Not afore twelve, and p'r'aps a good bit later,' he ses, smiling allover with 'appiness. 'But young slab-chest don't know I'm out, andWinnie thinks I'm just going out for 'arf an hour, so it'll be allright. So long.'
"I watched 'im up the road, and I must say I began to wish I 'adn'ttaken the job on. Arter all, I 'ad on'y had two pints and a bit o'flattery, and I knew wot 'ud 'appen if anything went wrong. Built likea bull he was, and fond o' using his strength. I locked the wicketcareful, and, putting the key in my pocket, began to walk up and downthe wharf.
"For about ten minutes the gal went on reading and didn't look up once.Then, as I passed, she gave me a nice smile and shook 'er little fist atthe cook, wot 'ad got 'is back towards 'er. I smiled back, o' course,and by and by she put her book down and climbed on to the side o' theship and held out her 'and for me to 'elp her ashore.
"'I'm so tired of the ship,' she ses, in a soft voice; 'it's like aprison. Don't you get, tired of the wharf?'
"'Sometimes,' I ses; 'but it's my dooty.'
"'Yes,' she ses. 'Yes, of course. But you're a big, strong man, andyou can put up with things better.'
"She gave a little sigh, and we walked up and down for a time withoutsaying anything.
"'And it's all father's foolishness,' she ses, at last; 'that's wotmakes it so tiresome. I can't help a pack of silly