*II. OUT IN THE WIDE WORLD*
It was a bright morning in June when Nell and her grandfather set forthupon their travels. Out of the city they walked briskly, for the desireto leave their old life--to elude pursuit--lay strong upon them. Nellhad provided a simple lunch for that day's needs; and at night theystopped foot-sore and weary at a hospitable farmhouse.
Late in the next day they chanced to pass a country church. Among thetombstones, at one side, they saw two men who were seated upon thegrass, so busily at work as not to notice the newcomers.
It was not difficult to guess that they were of a class of travellingshowmen who went from town to town showing Punch and his antics, forperched upon a tombstone was a figure of that hero himself, his nose andchin as hooked and his face as beaming as usual.
Scattered upon the ground were the other members of the play, in variousstages of repair; while the two showmen were engaged with glue, hammer,and tacks, in putting their proper parts more strongly together.
The showmen raised their eyes when the old man and his young companionwere close upon them, and pausing in their work, returned their looks ofcuriosity. One of them, the actual exhibitor, no doubt, was a littlemerry-faced man with a twinkling eye and a red nose, who seemed to haveunconsciously imbibed something of his hero's character. Theother--that was he who took the money--had rather a careful and cautiouslook, which was perhaps inseparable from his occupation also.
The merry man was the first to greet the strangers with a nod; andfollowing the old man's eyes, he observed that perhaps that was thefirst time he had ever seen a Punch off the stage.
"Why do you come here to do this?" asked the old man, after answeringtheir greeting.
"Why, you see," rejoined the little man, "we're putting up for to-nightat the public-house yonder, and it wouldn't do to let 'em see thepresent company undergoing repair."
"No!" cried the old man, making signs to Nell to listen, "why not, eh?why not?"
"Because it would destroy all the delusion, and take away all theinterest, wouldn't it?" replied the little man. "Would you care aha'penny for the Lord Chancellor if you know'd him in private andwithout his wig?--certainly not."
"Good!" said the old man, venturing to touch one of the puppets, anddrawing away his hand with a shrill laugh. "Are you going to show 'emto-night? are you?"
"That is the intention, governor," replied the other. "Look here," hecontinued, turning to his partner, "here's all this Judy's clothesfalling to pieces again. Much good you do at sewing things!"
Seeing that they were at a loss, the child said timidly:
"I have a needle, sir, in my basket, and thread too. Will you let metry to mend it for you? I think I can do it neater than you could."
The showman had nothing to urge against a proposal so seasonable.Nelly, kneeling down beside the box, was soon busily engaged in hertask, and accomplishing it to a miracle.
While she was thus engaged, the merry little man looked at her with aninterest which did not appear to be diminished when he glanced at herhelpless companion. When she had finished her work he thanked her, andinquired whither they were travelling.
"N--no farther to-night, I think," said the child, looking towards hergrandfather.
"If you're wanting a place to stop at," the man remarked, "I shouldadvise you to take up at the same house with us. That's it--the long,low, white house there. It's very cheap. Come along."
The tavern was kept by a fat old landlord and landlady who made noobjection to receiving their new guests, but praised Nelly's beauty andwere at once prepossessed in her behalf. There was no other company inthe kitchen but the two showmen, and the child felt very thankful thatthey had fallen upon such good quarters. The landlady was very muchastonished to learn that they had come all the way from London, andappeared to have no little curiosity touching their farther destination.But Nell could give her no very clear replies.
That evening the wayfarers enjoyed the Punch show, though poor Nell wasso tired that she went to sleep early in the performance.
The next morning she met the showmen at breakfast.
"And where are you going to-day?" asked the little man with the rednose.
"Indeed, I hardly know. We have not decided," replied the child.
"We're going to the races," said the little man. "If that's your wayand you'd like to have us for company, let us travel together."
"We'll go with you, and gladly," interposed Nell's grandfather, eagerly;for he had been as pleased as a child with the performance of Punch.
Nell was a trifle alarmed over the prospect of a crowded race-course;but this seemed their best chance to press forward, so she accepted theinvitation thankfully.
For several days they travelled together, and despite the wearisome waythe child found much novelty and interest in the wandering life. Butpresently she became uneasy in the changed attitude of the two showmen.From being ordinarily kind, they now seemed to watch Nell and hergrandfather so closely as not to suffer them out of their sight.
The showmen had, in fact, got it into their heads that the two wayfarerswere not common people, but runaways for whom a reward must even now beposted in London. And so they resolved to deliver them over to theproper authorities at the first opportunity and claim the reward.
Now, although Nell and her grandfather had a perfect right to go wherethey pleased, and there was no reward offered, they were at all timesfearful of being pursued by that terrible Quilp. So Nell determined toflee from these two watchful men at the earliest moment.
The chance of escape offered during one of the busy days at therace-course. While the two men were busy showing off Punch to thedelighted crowd, she took her grandfather by the hand and hurriedlyslipped away.
At first they pressed forward regardless of whither their steps ledthem, and from time to time casting fearful glances behind them to seeif they were being pursued. But as they drew farther away they gainedmore confidence. Weariness also forced them to slacken their pace. Whenthey had come into the middle of a little woodland they rested a shorttime; then encountered a path which led to the opposite side. Takingtheir way along it for a short distance they came to a lane, so shadedby the trees on either hand that they met together overhead, and archedthe narrow way. A broken finger-post announced that this led to avillage three miles off; and thither they resolved to bend their steps.
The miles appeared so long that they sometimes thought they must havemissed their road. But at last, to their great joy, it led downward ina steep descent, with overhanging banks over which the footpaths led;and the clustered houses of the village peeped from the woody hollowbelow.
It was a very small place. The men and boys were playing at cricket onthe green; and as the other folks were looking on, they wandered up anddown, uncertain where to seek a humble lodging. There was but one manin the little garden before his cottage, and him they were timid ofapproaching, for he was the schoolmaster, and had "School" written upover his window in black letters on a white board. He was a pale,simple-looking man, and sat among his flowers and beehives, smoking hispipe, in the little porch before his door.
"Speak to him, dear," the old man whispered.
"I am almost afraid to disturb him," said the child, timidly. "He doesnot seem to see us. Perhaps if we wait a little, he may look this way."
But as nobody else appeared and it would soon be dark, Nell at lengthventured to draw near, leading her grandfather by the hand. The slightnoise they made in raising the latch of the wicket-gate caught hisattention. He looked at them kindly but seemed disappointed too, andslightly shook his head.
Nell dropped a courtesy, and told him they were poor travellers whosought a shelter for the night which they would gladly pay for, so faras their means allowed. The schoolmaster looked earnestly at her as shespoke, laid aside his pipe, and rose up directly.
"If you could direct us anywhere, sir," said the child, "we should takeit very kindly."
"You have been walking a long way," said the schoolmaster.
"A long way, sir," the child replied.
"You're a young traveller, my child," he said, laying his hand gently onher head. "Your grandchild, friend?"
"Aye, sir," cried the old man, "and the stay and comfort of my life."
"Come in," said the schoolmaster.
NELL AND HER GRANDFATHER.]
Without farther preface he conducted them into his little school-room,which was parlor and kitchen likewise, and told them they were welcometo remain under his roof till morning. Before they had done thankinghim, he spread a coarse white cloth upon the table, with knives andplatters; and bringing out some bread and cold meat, besought them toeat.
They did so gladly, and the schoolmaster showed them, soon after, tosome plain but neat sleeping chambers up close under the thatched roof.Here they slept the sound sleep of the very weary, and awoke refreshedand light-hearted the following day.
But the schoolmaster, while kind and courteous, was sad and quiet. Hegave his small school a half-holiday that day, and Nell learned that itwas because of the illness of a favorite pupil--a boy about her own age.
"If your journey is not a long one," he added to the travellers, "you'revery welcome to pass another night here. I should really be glad if youwould do so, as I am very lonely to-day."
They accepted and thanked him with grateful hearts. Nell busied herselftidying up the rooms and trying in many little ways to add to themaster's comfort. And that evening, when his pupil died, Nell's griefwas almost as deep in its sympathy as the master's own.
She bade him a reluctant farewell the next morning. School had alreadybegun, but he rose from his desk and walked with them to the gate.
It was with a trembling and reluctant hand that the child held out tohim the money which a lady had given her at the races for some flowers;faltering in her thanks as she thought how small the sum was, andblushing as she offered it. But he bade her put it up, and stooping tokiss her cheek, turned back into his house.
They had not gone half-a-dozen paces when he was at the door again; theold man retraced his steps to shake hands, and the child did the same.
"Good fortune and happiness go with you!" said the poor schoolmaster."I am quite a solitary man now. If you ever pass this way again, you'llnot forget the little village school."
"We shall never forget it, sir," rejoined Nell; "nor ever forget to begrateful to you for your kindness to us."
"I have heard such words from the lips of children very often," said theschoolmaster, shaking his head and smiling thoughtfully, "but they weresoon forgotten. I had attached one young friend to me, the betterfriend for being young--but that's over--God bless you!"
They bade him farewell very many times and turned away, walking slowlyand often looking back, until they could see him no more. At lengththey had left the village far behind, and even lost sight of the smokeamong the trees. They trudged onward now at a quicker pace, resolvingto keep the main road, and go wherever it might lead them.
But main roads stretch a long, long way. With the exception of two orthree inconsiderable clusters of cottages which they passed withoutstopping, and one lonely roadside public-house where they had some breadand cheese, this highway had led them to nothing--late in theafternoon--and still lengthened out, far in the distance, the same dull,tedious, winding course that they had been pursuing all day. As theyhad no resource, however, but to go forward, they still kept on, thoughat a much slower pace, being very weary and fatigued.
Finally, just at dusk, they came upon a curious little house uponwheels--a travelling show somewhat more pretentious than the Punchperformance they had run away from. This little house was mounted upon acart, with white dimity curtains at the windows and shutters of greenset in panels of bright red. Altogether it was a smart littlecontrivance. Grazing in front of it were two comfortable-looking horses;while at its open door sat a stout lady--evidently theproprietor--sipping tea.
This lady, Mrs. Jarley by name, had seen Nell and her grandfather at theraces, so hailed them and asked about the success of the Punch show.She was greatly astonished to learn that they had nothing to do with it,and were wandering about without any object in view.
Her own performance was more "classic," as she expressed it. It was aWaxwork exhibition; and as she looked at Nell's attractive face she wasseized with an idea. This bright little girl was just the sort ofassistant she had been needing. So she invited them to stop and havesome tea with her. They did so; and when Mrs. Jarley presently unfoldedher plan--which was to engage Nell to exhibit the wax figures anddescribe them in a set speech--Nell was delighted to accept the offer,especially since it involved no separation from her grandfather, whocould dust the figures and do other light tasks.
It was really not a very hard position for Nell. At the first townwhere the Waxworks were to be shown, Nell was given a private view andinstructed in her new duties. The figures were displayed on a raisedplatform some two feet from the floor, running round the room and partedfrom the rude public by a crimson rope breast high. They representedcelebrated characters, singly and in groups, clad in glittering dressesof various climes and times, and standing more or less unsteadily upontheir legs, with their eyes very wide open, and their nostrils very muchinflated, and the muscles of their legs and arms very stronglydeveloped, and all their countenances expressing great surprise. Allthe gentlemen were very pigeon-breasted and very blue about the beards,and all the ladies were miraculous figures; and all the ladies and allthe gentlemen were looking with extraordinary earnestness at nothing atall.
Nell was taught a little speech about each one of them, and so apt wasshe that one rehearsal rendered her able to take the willow wand, whichMrs. Jarley had formerly wielded, and tell the interesting history ofthis very select Waxwork show to the audiences which presently began tocome.
Mrs. Jarley herself was delighted with her venture. She saw at oncethat Nell would be a strong drawing card. And in order that the childmight remain contented she made her and her grandfather as comfortableas possible, besides paying them a fair salary.
So the wanderers now rode in the van from town to town, and lived almosthappily. Nell carefully saved all their money, and watched over herfeeble grandfather with the tenderness of a little mother. She had onescare in almost meeting face to face with Quilp, the dwarf, but he hadnot recognized her.
Quilp, indeed, was a perpetual nightmare to the child, who wasconstantly haunted by a vision of his ugly face and stunted figure. Sheslept, for their better security, in the room where the waxwork figureswere, and she never retired to this place at night but she torturedherself--she could not help it--with imagining a resemblance, in someone or other of their death-like faces, to the dwarf, and this fancywould sometimes so gain upon her that she would almost believe he hadremoved the figure and stood within the clothes.
But presently a deeper and more real concern came to her. Hergrandfather had never alluded to their former life, nor to his passionfor gambling. He did not see the card-tables out in the country; andthat was the reason why she had been so eager to wander, even without aroof over their heads. But now, as the Waxworks exhibited only in thetowns, temptation came again to the poor, weak old man. He saw some menplaying cards in a tavern, and instantly his slumbering passion wasaroused. He would play again and win a great fortune--for Nell!
He began to play, and, of course, with the old result. He was but atool in the hands of the sharpers, and presently he had exhausted allthe slender hoard which Nell had so carefully made. She watched hisactions with a bursting heart, but was powerless to stop him or keep themoney out of his grasp. At last the villains who had led him on--notsatisfied with their small winnings from him--urged him to get the moneybelonging to the Waxwork show, saying that when he won he could pay itall back.
Nell had followed her grandfather upon this visit to the gamblers, andoverheard their plot. She knew there was but one thing to do, to saveher
grandfather. They must flee out into the world again at once. Thatnight she roused him from his sleep, and told him they must go away.
"What does this mean?" he cried.
"I have had dreadful dreams," said the child. "If we stay here anothernight something awful will happen. Come!"
The old man looked at her as if she were a spirit, and trembled in everyjoint.
"Must we go to-night?" he asked.
"Yes, to-night," she replied. "To-morrow night will be too late. Thedream will have come again. Nothing but flight can save us. Up!"
The old man rose obediently and made ready to follow. She had alreadypacked their scanty belongings. She gave him his wallet and staff, andsecretly, in the night, they fled away.
The wanderings of the next few days seemed like a nightmare to them.Nell had brought only a few pennies in her pockets and these went for ascant supply of bread and cheese. Two days and a night they rode on anopen canal-boat in company with some rough but not unkind men. It waseasier than walking, but the rain descended in torrents and drenchedthem to the skin.
Finally the boat drew up to a wharf in an ugly manufacturing town, andthe travellers were cast adrift as lonely and helpless as though theyhad just awakened from a sleep of a thousand years. They had not onefriend, nor the least idea where to turn for shelter. But a roughstoker at one of the furnaces told them that they might pass the nightin front of his fire. It was nothing but a bed of ashes, yet they werewarm and the heat dried out the poor travellers' drenched garments.
The child felt stiff and weak in every joint the next morning, but thefurnace-tender told them that it was two days' journey to the opencountry and sweet, pure fields, and she felt that they must pressforward at any cost. So they started forth, slowly and wearily, fortheir journey and privations had almost exhausted them, but still withbrave hearts. Through long rows of red brick houses that looked exactlyalike they wended their way, asking for bread to eat only when obligedto, and meeting little else but scowls from the dirty factory workers.
Finally, to their great joy, the open country began again to appear; andwith fresh courage in their hearts they continued to press on.
They were dragging themselves along through the last street, and thechild felt that the time was close at hand when her enfeebled powerswould bear no more; when there appeared before them, going in the samedirection as themselves, a traveller on foot, who, with a portmanteaustrapped to his back, leaned upon a stout stick as he walked, and readfrom a book which he held in his other hand.
It was not an easy matter to come up with him, and beseech his aid, forhe walked fast, and was a little distance in advance. At length hestopped to look more attentively at some passage in his book. Animatedwith a ray of hope, the child shot on before her grandfather, and goingclose to the stranger without rousing him by the sound of her footsteps,began, in a few faint words, to implore his help.
He turned his head. The child clapped her hands together, uttered awild shriek, and fell senseless at his feet.
Stories from Dickens Page 9
