Garrick's Pupil Part 10

"Why disturb her? There are so many curious things here to amuse one!

One might pa.s.s a whole day looking about this apartment without being bored for a moment."

"So be it!" replied Frank in a slightly tremulous voice. "Shall we look about together?"

He forthwith proceeded to show her all the rare objects arranged in order within their glazed cases, giving her explanations of everything.

There were snuff-boxes, fans of which one was said to be the work of the poet Pope, and foreign arms brought home by Sir Joshua from a journey in barbaric lands. Frank also named the originals of the unfinished portraits which awaited upon their easels the good pleasure of the painter.

The door of the adjoining apartment, whence the girl had seen him emerge upon the preceding day, stood ajar; she quickly glanced within and saw a quant.i.ty of antique casts spread upon large tables, and plaster heads heaped one upon another.

"It is there that I paint," he said, "in order that I may always be near at hand in case Sir Joshua should call me."

"As yesterday," she said rashly; then, realizing the memory which she had evoked, she blushed. As for him, he became pale. However, she soon continued:--

"Sir Joshua loves you very dearly."

"He treats me with an almost paternal kindness; I respect him, and entertain for him the affection of a son. I owe him all that--"

"Yes, I know."

"Ah, but you cannot know all. Perhaps you have been told that I have been adopted and educated by Sir Joshua, but if you only knew from what a future of misery and despair he has s.n.a.t.c.hed me, from what a h.e.l.l he has saved me!"

He p.r.o.nounced these words with so simple, so profound an accent that the girl, suddenly touched with sympathy, bent her eyes upon him and said:--

"Where were you before you knew him, and what did you do?"

"I lived with the pirates of the Thames, who forced me to learn their horrible business."

"But how happened it that you fell into such hands?"

"I know not. I know neither my birthplace nor my parents. Even my true age is unknown to me. I have nothing in the world, not even so much as a name--only a surname; they called me Mishap. Perhaps my parents were like those wretches. The thought has often come to me, and driven me almost desperate."

Esther did not speak, but her eyes a.s.sured Frank that she was listening with deepest interest.

"We lived in a hovel," he continued, "down by the water, opposite Greenwich, and sometimes in a half-decayed barge on the river which was anch.o.r.ed some twenty yards from sh.o.r.e. By day they sent me on land to beg, and beat me if I returned empty-handed. At low tide I used to search the mud which the sea left dry when it retired."

"For what purpose?"

"To look for things which might have fallen into the water. One found all sorts of stuff on the bed of the river,--wood, rope, bits of cloth, and rusty iron. Frequently I encountered fearful things there, such as human remains, bodies of the unfortunate whose death had been unknown and would never be avenged."

"Heavens! what a dreadful business!"

"You are right: a dreadful business indeed! Those who carry it on are called mud-larks; yet little do they resemble those tiny voyagers of the air which sing so proudly, so joyously, which build their nests in the furrows and soar aloft to heaven's gate. The mud-larks crawl along their wretched way, sometimes immersed to the knees in the icy slime, and frequently they fall victims to the fever as the result of their long searches. Nevertheless, the Thames has engulfed much riches, and sometimes it gives it back. There have been cases of poor wretches finding precious jewels there. One summer's day, during a season of excessive drought, the tide being lower than usual, I espied something glittering in the rays of the rising sun. I stooped; it was an old gold piece bearing the effigy of Charles II. Perhaps for a century it had slept there in the mud."

After a moment of silence he continued:--

"How carefully I wiped it! How I caressed it! How long I contemplated that little coin! At first I decided that I would show my treasure-trove to no one. But where could I hide it? I wore neither shoes, stockings, nor shirt; nothing but an old ragged jacket and trousers without pockets. When I was permitted to go to bed I slept upon a sack filled with rags, along with a boy older than myself. I pa.s.sed the coin from one hand to the other; I even put it in my mouth beneath my tongue. It seemed a fortune in my eyes, and I thought that when I went to London I should be able to buy out the whole town. Yes; ah, but I was way-wise for my years, and I foresaw what would take place were I to offer my sovereign for sale as the gentlemen did. The dealer would exclaim, 'Such as you with a gold piece! You have stolen it!' Forthwith I should be sent to prison, and from there to the smoky hall of the Old Bailey, where I had seen many a little thief condemned to twenty or thirty lashes. I saw myself bound to the terrible wooden bench, black with human blood; I saw the executioner approach with his awful cat-o'-nine-tails. My thin knees knocked together as I drew the mental picture."

"And what did you do?"

"I determined to hide my sovereign under a tuft of gra.s.s on the river bank near Deptford. And I went there often to take a peep at it, while I waited for better days. Alas! there came a great tempest in September; the river rose and overflowed its banks; my hiding-place, my treasure, all disappeared!"

"Poor boy!"

"All these miseries were as nothing compared with others. The worst work was that which I was made to do at night. Of foggy evenings our boat slipped along like a phantom, with the oars m.u.f.fled in bits of old wool so that they moved without a sound. Thus we circled about the big ships at anchor, or prowled around the sleeping warehouses. At such hours the river belonged to the bandits, to the vagabonds who were called light-hors.e.m.e.n; they were alone, and sovereign masters there."

"But what part did you play upon these nocturnal expeditions?"

"They made me climb up a knotted rope to the bowsprits of the ships, which they knew to be but poorly guarded by the drunken sailors at that time of night. From there I would crawl to the deck. Then I would glide into the storeroom and bring thence a bag of 'sand,' a sack of 'peas,'

or a bottle of 'vinegar,' which is pirate slang for sugar, coffee, and rum. When I had lowered my booty into the boat moored under the bow, I would let myself down, my teeth chattering, half dead with fright."

"Were you aware that you were doing wrong?"

"No: no one had taught me the difference between good and bad; no one had ever p.r.o.nounced in my presence the name of G.o.d, unless it was with the accompaniment of some frightful blasphemy. I was simply aware that there existed another race of men who waged war upon my masters; that when the landsmen captured our water-folk they dragged them into a great black house called Newgate, and from there to a place called Tyburn, where they set up a gallows. I saw many of my companions hanged there, for thieves never miss an execution. Have you ever seen a hanging, Miss Woodville?"

"Oh, never!" cried Esther shudderingly.

"You would think it a festival. All along Holborn stagings are set up for those who wish to see, and tables for the wine-bibbers. The mob laughs and sings, and jokes the ladies who have hired windows, and who hide their faces behind their fans. Venders of apples and gin thrust their handcarts into the thick of the crowd. The mountebanks perform their tricks and dances as at the fair of Saint Bartholomew, while the street urchins for half a penny proclaim the complaint against the doomed man. At last he appears upon a cart drawn by a wretched hack, which itself seems on its way to slaughter. I have seen certain men in this plight who were bold and impudent in the face of death, who winked at the women, and responded to the jeers of the crowd. Yes, I have heard them try to sing songs, which the mob took up in chorus. But there have been others!--those who were deaf to everything, deaf even to the exhorting voice of the clergyman. Quivering like dead animals with every jolt of the cart, fainting, convulsed, livid, horrible to look upon, their eyes dilated with terror, they seemed scarcely human, scarcely living but for the evidence of their fear."

He paused for an instant, paling at the recollection. "I saw it all," he pursued, "and knew that after twenty or thirty years of infamy that fate would be mine. If I refused to obey my masters a few blows of the gasket very soon got the better of my resistance. To be beaten by the mud-larks or lashed by the hangman--such was the frightful choice which was offered me, such the view of life which I enjoyed for eight years. Eight years! The age of dependence, confidence, and joy! The age which should know the sweetness of a mother's love and caress!"

Esther's eyes filled with tears as she grasped poor Frank's hands and held them in her clasp.

"Neither have I known a mother," she said; "but I have not suffered as you have. Those about me were kind enough, and I can smile when I compare my miseries with yours."

"One night," continued Frank, "when I refused to play my part in an expedition with the pirates, one of them in a fit of rage threw me into the dark river which hissingly closed over my head."

Esther uttered a cry as though she saw it all, saw with her own eyes the child plunge headlong into the water.

"Fortunately I could swim. I knew the river and it seemed less wicked, less hostile than man. It almost seemed like a mother to me, since it had rocked me upon its bosom and nourished me for so many years. I succeeded in gaining the sh.o.r.e, where I wandered about, shivering, until daybreak. I don't see what prevented my dying, except that such wretches as I are blessed with more enduring vitality than others. Nevertheless, I had some terrible trials to bear. For several days I subsisted upon mouldy crusts floating in the water, cabbage leaves, and other rubbish which I picked up about the market-places. I devoured these sad repasts while inhaling the odor of roasts in Cheapside and Fleet Street. Now and again a charitable gentleman would give me alms without my daring to solicit it other than with my wretched, famished glances. At night I slept sometimes in a church porch, sometimes in an abandoned stable, sometimes under an old wall, which screened me from the wind. One morning I lay asleep, with a stone for a pillow, in the neighborhood of Covent Garden, when I was awakened by a strange voice which seemed to address me. I saw a middle-aged gentleman of modest appearance, with a kind and venerable air, who stood gazing upon me as he leaned on his silver-headed cane. This cane and his old-fashioned wig would have caused me to divine that he was a doctor, had I known the costumes of the different professions.

"'My boy,' he said to me, 'what are you doing there? Why are you not at home at such an hour? Surely your parents must be anxious about you.'

"I answered him rudely, for I knew no other mode of speech.

"'I have no home, and no parents.'

"'What is your name?'

"'They call me Mishap.'

"'Well, friend Mishap, I am going to give the lie to your name, for I am going to take you to the best man in the world.'

"I rose and followed him. Later I learned that he was Levet, the French surgeon of the poor, so poor himself that Dr. Johnson had given him an abiding-place in his house. Thither he led me. The doctor, too, in his time had suffered from poverty and hunger. In his old age he returned good for the evil which he had suffered in his youth. His home was, and still is, a sort of asylum and hospital. With Levet lived Mrs. Williams, the blind poetess, and the negro Frank, whom the author of 'Ra.s.selas'

treated more as a friend than a servant. These good people gave me a cordial greeting. They gave me breakfast and made me tell them my story.

For the first time in my life I ate of white bread and listened to decent language. Then my heart, which lay like a stone in my breast, melted, and I wept hot tears. They baptized me next day, the good negro being my humble G.o.dfather. To the Christian name of Francis they added, for want of a family name, the name of the day on which I had been discovered shivering in my sleep. Some days later, well washed and newly clothed, with shoes and stockings on my feet, all of which seemed strange to me and not a little awkward, I accompanied Dr. Johnson to this house, and in this very room made my first bow to Sir Joshua, who at the time was painting the portrait of Kate Fisher. I can still see the pretty creature, who had brought her friend, Mary Summers, with her.

One was all beauty; the other, all wit--component parts of Aspasia.

"'My dear sir,' said the doctor in his grand, solemn way, 'I have brought with me a child for Ugolino to eat.'