Johnny Ludlow Fourth Series Part 51

"It is the same," said Jack. "I have heard his history. One of his especial favourites is Mr. Johnny Ludlow."

"How strange!--strange that he should be in your ship! Does he do well?

Is he a good sailor?"

"First-rate. Ferrar is really a superior young man, steady and painstaking, and has got on wonderfully. As soon as he qualifies for master, which will be in another year or two, he will be placed in command, unless I am mistaken. Our owners see what he is, and push him forward. They drafted him into my ship two years ago."

How curious it was! Mark Ferrar, the humble charity-boy, the _frog_, who had won the heart of poor King Sanker, rising thus quickly towards the top of the tree! I had always liked Mark; had seen how trustworthy he was.

Our cab might fly like the wind; but Tower Hill seemed a long way off in spite of it. Dashing into Ship Street at last, I looked about me, and saw a narrow street with narrow houses on either side, narrow doors that somehow did not look upright, and shutters closed before the downstairs windows.

No. 23. Jack got out, and knocked at the door. A young boy opened it, saying he believed Mr. Ferrar was in his parlour.

You had to dive down a step to get into the pa.s.sage. I followed Jack in.

The parlour-door was on the right, and the boy pushed it open. A smart, well-dressed sailor sat at the table, his head bent over books and papers, apparently doing exercises by candle-light.

It was Mark Ferrar. His honest, homely face, with the wide mouth and plain features, looked much the same; but the face was softened into--I had almost said--that of a gentleman. Mark finished the sentence he was writing, looked up, and saw his captain.

"Oh, sir, is it you?" he said, rising. "I beg your pardon."

"Busy at your books, I see, Mr. Ferrar?"

Mark smiled--the great, broad, genuine smile I so well remembered. "I had to put them by for other books, while I was studying to pa.s.s for chief, sir. That done, I can get to them again with an easy conscience."

"To be sure. Can you tell me where Mr. Pym lodges?"

"Close by: a few doors lower down. But I can show you the house, sir."

"Have you forgotten me, Mark?" I asked, as he took up his cap to come with us.

An instant's uncertain gaze; the candle was behind him, and my face in the shade. His own face lighted up with a glad light.

"No, sir, that indeed I have not, I can never forget Mr. Johnny Ludlow.

But you are about the last person, sir, I should have expected to see here."

In the moment's impulse, he had put out his hand to me; then, remembering, I suppose, what his position was in the old days, drew it back quickly. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said, with the same honest flush that used to be for ever making a scarlet poppy of his face. But I was glad to shake hands with Mark Ferrar.

"How are all your people at Worcester, Mark?" I asked, as we went down the street.

"Quite well, thank you, sir. My old father is hearty yet, and my brother and sister are both married. I went down to see them last week, and stayed a day or two."

The greatest change in Ferrar lay in his diction. He spoke as we spoke.

a.s.sociating now with men of education, he had taken care to catch up their tone and accent; and he was ever, afloat or ash.o.r.e, striving to improve himself.

Ferrar opened Pym's door without knocking, dived down the step, for the houses were precisely similar, and entered the parlour. He and Pym occupied the same apartments in each house: the parlour and the little bed-room behind it.

The parlour was in darkness, save for what light came into it from the street gas-lamp, for these shutters were not closed. Ferrar went into the pa.s.sage and shouted out for the landlady, Mrs. Richenough. I thought it an odd name.

She came in from the kitchen at the end of the pa.s.sage, carrying a candle. A neat little woman with grey hair and a puckered face; the sleeves of her brown gown were rolled up to the elbows, and she wore a check ap.r.o.n.

"Mr. Pym, sir?" she said, in answer to Ferrar. "He dressed hisself and went out when he'd swallowed down his tea. He always do go out, sir, the minute he's swallowed it."

"Do you expect him back to-night?" questioned Jack.

"Why yes, sir, I suppose so," she answered, "he mostly comes in about eleven."

"Has any young lady been here this evening, ma'am?" blandly continued Jack. "With Mr. Pym?--or to inquire for him?"

Mrs. Richenough resented the question. "A young lady!" she repeated, raising her voice. "Well, I'm sure! what next?"

"Take care: it is our captain who speaks to you," whispered Ferrar in her ear; and the old woman dropped a curtsy to Jack. Captains are captains with the old landladies in Ship Street.

"Mr. Pym's sister--or cousin," amended Jack.

"And it's humbly asking pardon of you, sir. I'm sure I took it to mean one of them fly-away girls that would like to be running after our young officers continual. No, sir; no young lady has been here for Mr. Pym, or with him."

"We can wait a little while to see whether he comes in, I presume, ma'am," said Jack.

Intimating that Mr. Pym's captain was welcome to wait the whole night if he pleased, Mrs. Richenough lighted the lamp that stood on the table, shut the shutters, and made Jack another curtsy as she withdrew.

"Do you wish me to remain, sir?" asked Mark.

"Not at all," was the captain's answer. "There will be a good deal to do to-morrow, Mr. Ferrar: mind you are not late in getting on board."

"No fear, sir," replied Ferrar.

And he left us waiting.

III.

The dwellings in Ship Street, Tower Hill, may be regarded as desirable residences by the young merchant-seamen whose vessels are lying in the neighbouring clocks, but they certainly do not possess much attraction for the general eye.

Seated in Edward Pym's parlour, the features of the room gradually impressed themselves upon my mind, and they remain there still. They would have remained, I think, without the dreadful tragedy that was so soon to take place in it. It was weary work waiting. Captain Tanerton, tired with his long and busy day, was nodding asleep in the opposite chair, and I had nothing to do but look about me.

It was a small room, rather shabby, the paper of a greenish cast, the faded carpet originally red: and the bedroom behind, as much as could be seen of it through the half-open door, looked smaller and poorer.

The chairs were horsehair, the small table in the middle had a purple cloth on it, on which stood the lamp, that the landlady had just lighted. A carved ivory ornament, representing a procession of priests and singers, probably a present to Mrs. Richenough from some merchant-captain, stood under a gla.s.s shade on a bracket against the wall; the mantelpiece was garnished with a looking-gla.s.s and some china shepherds and shepherdesses. A monkey-jacket of Pym's lay across the back of a chair; some books and his small desk were on the chiffonier. In the rooms above, as we learnt later, lodged a friend of Pym's, one Alfred Saxby, who was looking out for a third mate's berth.

At last Pym came in. Uncommonly surprised he seemed to see us sitting there, but not at all put out: he thought the captain had come down on some business connected with the ship. Jack quietly opened the ball; saying what he had to say.

"Yes, sir. I do know where Miss Verena Fontaine is, but I decline to say," was Pym's answer when he had listened.

"No, sir, nothing will induce me to say," he added to further remonstrance, "and you cannot compel me. I am under your authority at sea, Captain Tanerton, but I am not on sh.o.r.e--and not at all in regard to my private affairs. Miss Verena Fontaine is under the protection of friends, and that is quite enough."

Enough or not enough, this was the utmost we could get from him. His captain talked, and he talked, each of them in a civilly-cold way; but nothing more satisfactory came of it. Pym wound up by saying the young lady was his cousin, and he could take care of her without being interfered with.

"Do you trust him, Johnny Ludlow?" asked Jack, as we came away.

"I don't trust him on the whole; not a bit of it. But he seems to speak truth in saying she is with friends."