Chapter 72
The Black Lion was so far off, and occupied such a length of time in thegetting at, that notwithstanding the strong presumptive evidence she hadabout her of the late events being real and of actual occurrence, Dollycould not divest herself of the belief that she must be in a dream whichwas lasting all night. Nor was she quite certain that she saw and heardwith her own proper senses, even when the coach, in the fulness of time,stopped at the Black Lion, and the host of that tavern approached in agush of cheerful light to help them to dismount, and give them heartywelcome.
There too, at the coach door, one on one side, one upon the other, werealready Edward Chester and Joe Willet, who must have followed in anothercoach: and this was such a strange and unaccountable proceeding, thatDolly was the more inclined to favour the idea of her being fast asleep.But when Mr Willet appeared--old John himself--so heavy-headed andobstinate, and with such a double chin as the liveliest imaginationcould never in its boldest flights have conjured up in all its vastproportions--then she stood corrected, and unwillingly admitted toherself that she was broad awake.
And Joe had lost an arm--he--that well-made, handsome, gallant fellow!As Dolly glanced towards him, and thought of the pain he must havesuffered, and the far-off places in which he had been wandering, andwondered who had been his nurse, and hoped that whoever it was, shehad been as kind and gentle and considerate as she would have been,the tears came rising to her bright eyes, one by one, little by little,until she could keep them back no longer, and so before them all, weptbitterly.
'We are all safe now, Dolly,' said her father, kindly. 'We shall not beseparated any more. Cheer up, my love, cheer up!'
The locksmith's wife knew better perhaps, than he, what ailed herdaughter. But Mrs Varden being quite an altered woman--for the riots haddone that good--added her word to his, and comforted her with similarrepresentations.
'Mayhap,' said Mr Willet, senior, looking round upon the company, 'she'shungry. That's what it is, depend upon it--I am, myself.'
The Black Lion, who, like old John, had been waiting supper past allreasonable and conscionable hours, hailed this as a philosophicaldiscovery of the profoundest and most penetrating kind; and the tablebeing already spread, they sat down to supper straightway.
The conversation was not of the liveliest nature, nor were the appetitesof some among them very keen. But, in both these respects, old John morethan atoned for any deficiency on the part of the rest, and very muchdistinguished himself.
It was not in point of actual conversation that Mr Willet shone sobrilliantly, for he had none of his old cronies to 'tackle,' and wasrather timorous of venturing on Joe; having certain vague misgivingswithin him, that he was ready on the shortest notice, and on receipt ofthe slightest offence, to fell the Black Lion to the floor of his ownparlour, and immediately to withdraw to China or some other remote andunknown region, there to dwell for evermore, or at least until he hadgot rid of his remaining arm and both legs, and perhaps an eye or so,into the bargain. It was with a peculiar kind of pantomime that MrWillet filled up every pause; and in this he was considered by the BlackLion, who had been his familiar for some years, quite to surpass andgo beyond himself, and outrun the expectations of his most admiringfriends.
The subject that worked in Mr Willet's mind, and occasioned thesedemonstrations, was no other than his son's bodily disfigurement, whichhe had never yet got himself thoroughly to believe, or comprehend.Shortly after their first meeting, he had been observed to wander, ina state of great perplexity, to the kitchen, and to direct his gazetowards the fire, as if in search of his usual adviser in all matters ofdoubt and difficulty. But there being no boiler at the Black Lion, andthe rioters having so beaten and battered his own that it was quiteunfit for further service, he wandered out again, in a perfect bog ofuncertainty and mental confusion, and in that state took the strangestmeans of resolving his doubts: such as feeling the sleeve of his son'sgreatcoat as deeming it possible that his arm might be there; looking athis own arms and those of everybody else, as if to assure himself thattwo and not one was the usual allowance; sitting by the hour together ina brown study, as if he were endeavouring to recall Joe's image in hisyounger days, and to remember whether he really had in those times onearm or a pair; and employing himself in many other speculations of thesame kind.
Finding himself at this supper, surrounded by faces with which he hadbeen so well acquainted in old times, Mr Willet recurred to the subjectwith uncommon vigour; apparently resolved to understand it now or never.Sometimes, after every two or three mouthfuls, he laid down his knifeand fork, and stared at his son with all his might--particularly at hismaimed side; then, he looked slowly round the table until he caught someperson's eye, when he shook his head with great solemnity, patted hisshoulder, winked, or as one may say--for winking was a very slow processwith him--went to sleep with one eye for a minute or two; and so, withanother solemn shaking of his head, took up his knife and forkagain, and went on eating. Sometimes, he put his food into his mouthabstractedly, and, with all his faculties concentrated on Joe, gazed athim in a fit of stupefaction as he cut his meat with one hand, until hewas recalled to himself by symptoms of choking on his own part, and wasby that means restored to consciousness. At other times he resorted tosuch small devices as asking him for the salt, the pepper, the vinegar,the mustard--anything that was on his maimed side--and watching him ashe handed it. By dint of these experiments, he did at last so satisfyand convince himself, that, after a longer silence than he had yetmaintained, he laid down his knife and fork on either side his plate,drank a long draught from a tankard beside him (still keeping his eyeson Joe), and leaning backward in his chair and fetching a long breath,said, as he looked all round the board:
'It's been took off!'
'By George!' said the Black Lion, striking the table with his hand,'he's got it!'
'Yes, sir,' said Mr Willet, with the look of a man who felt that he hadearned a compliment, and deserved it. 'That's where it is. It's beentook off.'
'Tell him where it was done,' said the Black Lion to Joe.
'At the defence of the Savannah, father.'
'At the defence of the Salwanners,' repeated Mr Willet, softly; againlooking round the table.
'In America, where the war is,' said Joe.
'In America, where the war is,' repeated Mr Willet. 'It was took off inthe defence of the Salwanners in America where the war is.' Continuingto repeat these words to himself in a low tone of voice (the sameinformation had been conveyed to him in the same terms, at least fiftytimes before), Mr Willet arose from table, walked round to Joe, felt hisempty sleeve all the way up, from the cuff, to where the stump of hisarm remained; shook his hand; lighted his pipe at the fire, took a longwhiff, walked to the door, turned round once when he had reached it,wiped his left eye with the back of his forefinger, and said, ina faltering voice: 'My son's arm--was took off--at the defence ofthe--Salwanners--in America--where the war is'--with which words hewithdrew, and returned no more that night.
Indeed, on various pretences, they all withdrew one after another, saveDolly, who was left sitting there alone. It was a great relief to bealone, and she was crying to her heart's content, when she heard Joe'svoice at the end of the passage, bidding somebody good night.
Good night! Then he was going elsewhere--to some distance, perhaps. Towhat kind of home COULD he be going, now that it was so late!
She heard him walk along the passage, and pass the door. But there was ahesitation in his footsteps. He turned back--Dolly's heart beat high--helooked in.
'Good night!'--he didn't say Dolly, but there was comfort in his notsaying Miss Varden.
'Good night!' sobbed Dolly.
'I am sorry you take on so much, for what is past and gone,' said Joekindly. 'Don't. I can't bear to see you do it. Think of it no longer.You are safe and happy now.'
Dolly cried the more.
'You must have suffered very much within these few days--and yet you'renot changed, unless
it's for the better. They said you were, but I don'tsee it. You were--you were always very beautiful,' said Joe, 'but youare more beautiful than ever, now. You are indeed. There can be no harmin my saying so, for you must know it. You are told so very often, I amsure.'
As a general principle, Dolly DID know it, and WAS told so, very often.But the coachmaker had turned out, years ago, to be a special donkey;and whether she had been afraid of making similar discoveries in others,or had grown by dint of long custom to be careless of complimentsgenerally, certain it is that although she cried so much, she was betterpleased to be told so now, than ever she had been in all her life.
'I shall bless your name,' sobbed the locksmith's little daughter, 'aslong as I live. I shall never hear it spoken without feeling as if myheart would burst. I shall remember it in my prayers, every night andmorning till I die!'
'Will you?' said Joe, eagerly. 'Will you indeed? It makes me--well, itmakes me very glad and proud to hear you say so.'
Dolly still sobbed, and held her handkerchief to her eyes. Joe stillstood, looking at her.
'Your voice,' said Joe, 'brings up old times so pleasantly, that, forthe moment, I feel as if that night--there can be no harm in talkingof that night now--had come back, and nothing had happened in the meantime. I feel as if I hadn't suffered any hardships, but had knocked downpoor Tom Cobb only yesterday, and had come to see you with my bundle onmy shoulder before running away.--You remember?'
Remember! But she said nothing. She raised her eyes for an instant. Itwas but a glance; a little, tearful, timid glance. It kept Joe silentthough, for a long time.
'Well!' he said stoutly, 'it was to be otherwise, and was. I have beenabroad, fighting all the summer and frozen up all the winter, eversince. I have come back as poor in purse as I went, and crippled forlife besides. But, Dolly, I would rather have lost this other arm--ay, Iwould rather have lost my head--than have come back to find you dead,or anything but what I always pictured you to myself, and what I alwayshoped and wished to find you. Thank God for all!'
Oh how much, and how keenly, the little coquette of five years ago, feltnow! She had found her heart at last. Never having known its worth tillnow, she had never known the worth of his. How priceless it appeared!
'I did hope once,' said Joe, in his homely way, 'that I might come backa rich man, and marry you. But I was a boy then, and have long knownbetter than that. I am a poor, maimed, discharged soldier, and mustbe content to rub through life as I can. I can't say, even now, that Ishall be glad to see you married, Dolly; but I AM glad--yes, I am, andglad to think I can say so--to know that you are admired and courted,and can pick and choose for a happy life. It's a comfort to me to knowthat you'll talk to your husband about me; and I hope the time will comewhen I may be able to like him, and to shake hands with him, and tocome and see you as a poor friend who knew you when you were a girl. Godbless you!'
His hand DID tremble; but for all that, he took it away again, and lefther.
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty Page 72
