“‘It’s our bed,’ ses Dick, trembling all over with rage. ‘I’ve told you afore you’ve come into the wrong ‘ouse.’
“‘Wrong ‘ouse,’ ses Job, staring round the room. ‘I b’leeve you’re right. Goo’-night, Dick; goo’-night, Mrs. Weed; goo’-night, baby.’
“Dick jumped out of bed then and tried to push ‘im out of the room, but ‘e was a very small man, and Job just stood there and wondered wot he was doing. Mrs. Weed and the baby both started screaming one against the other, and at last Dick pushed the window open and called out for help.
“They ‘ad the neighbours in then, and the trouble they ‘ad to get Job downstairs wouldn’t be believed. Mrs. Pottle went for ‘is wife at last, and then Job went ‘ome with ‘er like a lamb, asking ‘er where she’d been all the evening, and saying ‘e’d been looking for ‘er everywhere.
“There was such a to-do about it in the village next morning that Job Brown was fairly scared. All the wimmen was out at their doors talking about it, and saying wot a shame it was and ‘ow silly Mrs. Weed was to put up with it. Then old Mrs. Gumm, ‘er grandmother, who was eighty-eight years old, stood outside Job’s ‘ouse nearly all day, shaking ‘er stick at ‘im and daring of ‘im to come out. Wot with Mrs. Gumm and the little crowd watching ‘er all day and giving ‘er good advice, which she wouldn’t take, Job was afraid to show ‘is nose outside the door.
“He wasn’t like hisself that night up at the Cauliflower. ‘E sat up in the corner and wouldn’t take any notice of anybody, and it was easy to see as he was thoroughly ashamed of hisself.
“‘Cheer up, Job,’ says Bill Chambers, at last; ‘you ain’t the fust man as has made a fool of hisself.’
“‘Mind your own business,’ ses Job Brown, ‘and I’ll mind mine.’
“‘Why don’t you leave ‘im alone, Bill?’ ses Henery White; ‘you can see the man is worried because the baby can’t talk.’
“‘Oh,’ ses Bill, ‘I thought ‘e was worried because ‘is wife could.’
“All the chaps, except Job, that is, laughed at that; but Job ‘e got up and punched the table, and asked whether there was anybody as would like to go outside with him for five minutes. Then ‘e sat down agin, and said ‘ard things agin the drink, which ‘ad made ‘im the larfing-stock of all the fools in Claybury.
“‘I’m going to give it up, Smith,’ he ses.
“‘Yes, I know you are,’ ses Smith.
“‘If I could on’y lose the taste of it for a time I could give it up,’ ses Job, wiping ‘is mouth, ‘and to prove I’m in earnest I’ll give five pounds to anybody as’ll prevent me tasting intoxicating licker for a month.’
“‘You may as well save your breath to bid people “good-night” with, Job,’ ses Bill Chambers; ‘you wouldn’t pay up if anybody did keep you off it.’
“Job swore honour bright he would, but nobody believed ‘im, and at last he called for pen and ink and wrote it all down on a sheet o’ paper and signed it, and then he got two other chaps to sign it as witnesses.
“Bill Chambers wasn’t satisfied then. He pointed out that earning the five pounds, and then getting it out o’ Job Brown arterwards, was two such entirely different things that there was no likeness between ’em at all. Then Job Brown got so mad ‘e didn’t know wot ‘e was doing, and ‘e ‘anded over five pounds to Smith the landlord and wrote on the paper that he was to give it to anybody who should earn it, without consulting ‘im at all. Even Bill couldn’t think of anything to say agin that, but he made a point of biting all the sovereigns.
“There was quite a excitement for a few days. Henery White ‘e got a ‘eadache with thinking, and Joe Gubbins, ‘e got a ‘eadache for drinking Job Brown’s beer agin. There was all sorts o’ wild ways mentioned to earn that five pounds, but they didn’t come to anything.
“Arter a week had gone by Job Brown began to get restless like, and once or twice ‘e said in Smith’s hearing ‘ow useful five pounds would be. Smith didn’t take any notice, and at last Job told ‘im there didn’t seem any likelihood of the five pounds being earned, and he wanted it to buy pigs with. The way ‘e went on when Smith said ‘e ‘adn’t got the power to give it back, and ‘e’d got to keep it in trust for anybody as might earn it, was disgraceful.
“He used to ask Smith for it every night, and Smith used to give ‘im the same answer, until at last Job Brown said he’d go an’ see a lawyer about it. That frightened Smith a bit, and I b’lieve he’d ha’ ‘anded it over, but two days arterwards Job was going upstairs so careful that he fell down to the bottom and broke ‘is leg.
“It was broken in two places, and the doctor said it would be a long job, owing to ‘is drinking habits, and ‘e gave Mrs. Brown strict orders that Job wasn’t to ‘ave a drop of anything, even if ‘e asked for it.
“There was a lot o’ talk about it up at the Cauliflower ‘ere, and Henery White, arter a bad ‘eadache, thought of a plan by which ‘e and Bill Chambers could ‘ave that five pounds atween ’em. The idea was that Bill Chambers was to go with Henery to see Job, and take ‘im a bottle of beer, and jist as Job was going to drink it Henery should knock it out of ‘is ‘ands, at the same time telling Bill Chambers ‘e ought to be ashamed o’ hisself.
“It was a good idea, and, as Henery White said, if Mrs. Brown was in the room so much the better, as she’d be a witness. He made Bill swear to keep it secret for fear of other chaps doing it arterwards, and then they bought a bottle o’ beer and set off up the road to Job’s. The annoying part of it was, arter all their trouble and Henery White’s ‘eadache, Mrs. Brown wouldn’t let ’em in. They begged and prayed of ‘er to let ’em go up and just ‘ave a peep at ‘im, but she wouldn’t She said she’d go upstairs and peep for ’em, and she came down agin and said that ‘e was a little bit flushed, but sleeping like a lamb.
“They went round the corner and drank the ale up, and Bill Chambers said it was a good job. Henery thought ‘e was clever, because nobody else did. As for ‘is ‘eadaches, he put ’em down to over-eating.
“Several other chaps called to see Job, but none of them was allowed to go up, and for seven weeks that unfortunate man never touched a drop of anything. The doctor tried to persuade ‘im now that ‘e ‘ad got the start to keep it, and ‘e likewise pointed out that as ‘e had been without liquor for over a month, he could go and get that five pounds back out o’ Smith.
“Job promised that ‘e would give it up; but the fust day ‘e felt able to crawl on ‘is crutches he made up ‘is mind to go up to the Cauliflower and see whether gin and beer tasted as good as it used to. The only thing was ‘is wife might stop ‘im.
“‘You’re done up with nursing me, old gal,’ he ses to ‘is wife.
“‘I am a bit tired,’ ses she.
“‘I could see it by your eyes,’ ses Job. ‘What you want is a change, Polly. Why not go and see your sister at Wickham?”
“‘I don’t like leaving you alone,’ ses Mrs. Brown, ‘else I’d like to go. I want to do a little shopping.’
“‘You go, my dear,’ ses Job. ‘I shall be quite ‘appy sitting at the gate in the sun with a glass o’ milk an’ a pipe.’
“He persuaded ‘er at last, and, in a fit o’ generosity, gave ‘er three shillings to go shopping with, and as soon as she was out o’ sight he went off with a crutch and a stick, smiling all over ‘is face. He met Dick Weed in the road and they shook ‘ands quite friendly, and Job asked ‘im to ‘ave a drink. Then Henery White and some more chaps came along, and by the time they got to the Cauliflower they was as merry a party as you’d wish to see.
“Every man ‘ad a pint o’ beer, which Job paid for, not forgetting Smith ‘isself, and Job closed ‘is eyes with pleasure as ‘e took his. Then they began to talk about ‘is accident, and Job showed ’em is leg and described wot it felt like to be a teetotaler for seven weeks.
“‘And I’ll trouble you for that five pounds, Smith,’ ‘e ses, smiling. ‘I’ve been without anything stronger than milk for
seven weeks. I never thought when I wrote that paper I was going to earn my own money.’
“‘None of us did, Job,’ ses Smith. ‘D’ye think that leg’ll be all right agin? As good as the other, I mean?’
“‘Doctor ses so,’ ses Job.
“‘It’s wonderful wot they can do nowadays,’ ses Smith, shaking ‘is ‘ead.
“‘‘Strordinary,’ ses Job; ‘where’s that five pounds, Smith?’
“‘You don’t want to put any sudden weight or anything like that on it for a time, Job,’ ses Smith; ‘don’t get struggling or fighting, whatever you do, Job.’
“‘‘Taint so likely,’ ses Job; ‘d’ye think I’m a fool? Where’s that five pounds, Smith?’
“‘Ah, yes,’ ses Smith, looking as though ‘e’d just remembered something. ‘I wanted to tell you about that, to see if I’ve done right. I’m glad you’ve come in.’
“‘Eh?’ ses Job Brown, staring at ‘im.
“‘Has your wife gone shopping to-day?’ ses Smith, looking at ‘im very solemn.
“Job Brown put ‘is mug down on the table and turned as pale as ashes. Then ‘e got up and limped over to the bar.
“‘Wot d’yer mean’ he ses, choking.
“‘She said she thought o’ doing so,’ ses Smith, wiping a glass; ‘she came in yesterday and asked for that five pounds she’d won. The doctor came in with ‘er and said she’d kept you from licker for seven weeks, let alone a month; so, according to the paper, I ‘ad to give it to ‘er. I ‘ope I done right, Job?’
“Job didn’t answer ‘im a word, good or bad. He just turned ‘is back on him, and, picking up ‘is crutch and ‘is stick, hobbled off ‘ome. Henery White tried to make ‘im stop and ‘ave another pint, but he wouldn’t. He said he didn’t want ‘is wife to find ‘im out when she returned.”
BREVET RANK
The crew of the Elisabeth Hopkins sat on deck in the gloaming, gazing idly at the dusky shapes of the barges as they dropped silently down on the tide, or violently discussing the identity of various steamers as they came swiftly past Even with these amusements the time hung heavily, and they thought longingly of certain cosy bars by the riverside to which they were wont to betake themselves in their spare time.
To-night, in deference to the wishes of the skipper, wishes which approximated closely to those of Royalty in their effects, they remained on board. A new acquaintance of his, a brother captain, who dabbled in mesmerism, was coming to give them a taste of his quality, and the skipper, sitting on the side of the schooner in the faint light which streamed from the galley, was condescendingly explaining to them the marvels of hypnotism.
“I never ‘eard the likes of it,” said one, with a deep breath, as the skipper concluded a marvellous example.
“There’s a lot you ain’t ‘eard of, Bill,” said another, whose temper was suffering from lack of beer. “But ‘ave you seen all this, sir?”
“Everything,” said the skipper, impressively. “He wanted to mesmerise me, an’ I said, ‘All right,’ I ses, ‘do it an’ welcome — if you can, but I expect my head’s a bit too strong for you.’”
“And it was, sir, I’ll bet,” said the man who had been so candid with Bill.
“He tried everything,” said the skipper, “then he give it up; but he’s coming aboard to-night, so any of you that likes can come down the cabin and be mesmerised free.”
“Why can’t he do it on deck?” said the mate, rising from the hatches and stretching his gigantic form.
“‘Cos he must have artificial light, George,” said the skipper. “He lets me a little bit into the secret, you know, an’ he told me he likes to have the men a bit dazed-like first.”
Voices sounded from the wharf, and the night-watchman appeared piloting Captain Zingall to the schooner. The crew noticed that he came aboard quite like any other man, descending the ladder with even more care than usual. He was a small man, of much dignity, with light grey eyes which had been so strained by the exercise of his favourite hobby that they appeared to be starting from his head. He chatted agreeably about freights for some time, and then, at his brother skipper’s urgent entreaty, consented to go below and give them a taste of his awful powers.
At first he was not very successful. The men stared at the discs he put into their hands until their eyes ached, but for some time without effect. Bill was the first to yield, and to the astonishment of his friends passed into a soft magnetic slumber, from which he emerged to perform the usual idiotic tricks peculiar to mesmerised subjects.
“It’s wonderful what power you ‘ave over em,” said Captain Bradd, respectfully.
Captain Zingall smiled affably. “At the present moment,” he said, “that man is my unthinkin’ slave, an’ whatever I wish him to do he does. Would any of you like him to do anything?”
“Well, sir,” said one of the men, “‘e owes me ‘arf a crown, an’ I think it would be a ‘ighly interestin’ experiment if you could get ‘im to pay me. If anything ‘ud make me believe in mesmerism, that would.”
“An’ he owes me eighteenpence, sir,” said another seaman, eagerly.
“One at a time,” said the first speaker, sharply.
“An’ ‘e’s owed me five shillin’s since I don’t know when,” said the cook, with dishonest truthfulness.
Captain Zingall turned to his subject. “You owe that man half a crown,” he said, pointing, “that one eighteenpence, and that one five shillings. Pay them.”
In the most matter-of-fact way in the world Bill groped in his pockets, and, producing some greasy coins, payed the sums mentioned, to the intense delight of everybody.
“Well, I’m blest,” said the mate, staring. “I thought mesmerism was all rubbish. Now bring him to again.”
“But don’t tell ‘im wot ‘e’s been doin’,” said the cook.
Zingall with a few passes brought his subject round, and with a subdued air he took his place with the others.
“What’d it feel like, Bill?” asked Joe. “Can you remember what you did?”
Bill shook his head.
“Don’t try to,” said the cook, feelingly.
“I should like to put you under the influence,” said Zingall, eyeing the mate.
“You couldn’t,” said that gentleman, promptly.
“Let me try,” said Zingall, persuasively.
“Do,” said the skipper, “to oblige me, George.”
“Well, I don’t mind much,” said the mate, hesitating; “but no making me give those chaps money, you know.”
“No, no,” said Zingall.
“Wot does ‘e mean? Give the chaps money?” said Bill, turning with a startled air to the cook.
“I dunno,” said the cook airily. “Just watch ‘im, Bill,” he added, anxiously.
But Bill had something better to do, and feeling in his pockets hurriedly strove to balance his cash account. It was impossible to do anything else while he was doing it, and the situation became so strained and his language so weird that the skipper was compelled in the interest of law and morality to order him from the cabin.
“Look at me,” said Zingall to the mate after quiet had been restored.
The mate complied, and everybody gazed spellbound at the tussle for supremacy between brute force and occult science. Slowly, very slowly, science triumphed, being interrupted several times by the blood-curdling threats of Bill, as they floated down the companion-way. Then the mate suddenly lurched forward, and would have fallen but that strong hands caught him and restored him to his seat.
“I’m going to show you something now, if I can,” said Zingall, wiping his brow; “but I don’t know how it’ll come off, because I’m only a beginner at this sort of thing, and I’ve never tried this before. If you don’t mind, cap’n, I’m going to tell him he is Cap’n Bradd, and that you are the mate.”
“Go ahead,” said the delighted Bradd.
Captain Zingall went ahead full speed. With a few rapid passes he roused the mate from his torpor and
fixed him with his glittering eye.
“You are Cap’n Bradd, master o’ this ship,” he said slowly.
“Ay, ay,” said the mate, earnestly.
“And that’s your mate, George, said Zingall, pointing to the deeply interested Bradd.
“Ay, ay,” said the mate again, with a sigh.
“Take command, then,” said Zingall, leaving him with a satisfied air and seating himself on the locker.
The mate sat up and looked about him with an air of quiet authority.
“George,” he said, turning suddenly to the skipper with a very passable imitation of his voice.
“Sir,” said the skipper, with a playful glance at Zingall.
“A friend o’ mine named Cap’n Zingall is coming aboard to-night,” said the mate, slowly. “Get a little whisky for him out o’ my state-room.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said the amused Bradd.
“Just a little in the bottom of the bottle ‘ll do,” continued the mate; “don’t put more in, for he drinks like a fish.”
“I never said such a thing, cap’n,” said Bradd, in an agitated whisper. “I never thought o’ such a thing.”
“No, I know you wouldn’t,” said Zingall, who was staring hard at a nearly empty whisky bottle on the table.
“And don’t leave your baccy pouch lying about, George,” continued the mate, in a thrilling whisper.
The skipper gave a faint, mirthless little laugh, and looked at him uneasily.
“If ever there was a sponger for baccy, George, it’s him,” said the mate, in a confidential whisper.
Captain Zingall, who was at that very moment filling his pipe from the pouch which the skipper had himself pushed towards him, laid it carefully on the table again, and gazing steadily at his friend, took out the tobacco already in his pipe and replaced it. In the silence which ensued the mate took up the whisky bottle, and pouring the contents into a tumbler, added a little water, and drank it with relish.
He leaned back on the locker and smacked his lips. There was a faint laugh from one of the crew, and looking up smartly he seemed to be aware for the first time of their presence. “What are you doin’ down here?” he roared. “What do you want?”
Works of W. W. Jacobs Page 157
