The Garret and the Garden Part 13

"I'm sorry to disappoint you to-day, Tommy," she said, handing him the letter, "but I must send you with this to my father. Mr Brentwood called with it not half an hour since, saying it was of importance to have it delivered soon, as it was connected with the case of Mr Laidlaw. So be off with it as fast as you can. You know where to find father--on board the _Seacow_."

Tommy Splint was indeed disappointed at having to leave the garden cla.s.s thus abruptly. He consoled himself, however, with the reflection that he was perhaps doing important service to his friend Da-a-a-vid Laidlaw.

He further consoled himself, on reaching the court below, by uttering a shriek which sent a cat that chanced to be reposing there in rampant alarm into the depths of a convenient cellar. Thereafter he went into a contemplative frame of mind to the docks, and found Sam Blake as usual in his bunk.

"I say, Sam, d'ee spend all yer time--night and day--in yer bunk?"

"Not exactly, lad," answered the seaman, with a smile, but without showing any intention to rise. "You see we sea-dogs have a hard time of it. What with bein' liable to be routed out at all hours, an' expected to work at any hour, we git into a way of making a grab at sleep when an where we gits the chance. I'm makin' up lee-way just now. Bin to church in the forenoon though. I ain't a heathen, Tommy."

"You looks uncommon like one, anyhow--with your 'air an' 'ead an' beard an' blankits mixed up together all of a mush. There's a letter for 'ee, old man."

Without a word the sailor took the epistle, read it slowly, while the boy watched him keenly, then thrust it under his pillow.

"You ain't agoin' to clear for action at once, then?" said the boy.

"No, not just yet."

"Any message for me?" asked Tommy.

"None wotsomedever."

Seeing that his friend did not intend to be communicative the boy wisely changed the subject.

"Now, Sam, about them pirits. W'ere was it they fust got 'old of you?"

"Down somewheres among the Philippine Islands," replied Sam, drawing the blankets more comfortably round him, "but to tell you the truth, lad, after they'd taken our ship an' made every man o' the crew walk the plank except me an' the skipper, they putt us in the hold, tied up hand an' futt so as we could scarce move. Why they spared us was a puzzle to me at the time, but I afterwards found out it was because somehow they'd got it into their heads that the skipper an' mate of our ship knew somethin' about where some treasure that they were after had been buried. Hand me that there pipe, Tommy--not the noo one; the short black fellow wi' the Turk's head on the bowl. Thankee."

"An' _did_ you know about the treasure?" asked Tommy, handing the pipe in question.

"Bless you, no," returned the seaman, proceeding to render the confined air of the bunk still more unbearable; "we know'd of no treasure. If we had we'd have bin arter it ourselves, double quick. As it was, they burnt us wi' hot irons an' tortered us in various ways to make us confess, but we had nothin' to confess, so had to grin an' bear it-- sometimes to yell an' bear it! You see, lad, they mistook me for the mate, so that's how I came to escape. He was a fine man was that mate,"

continued the seaman in a lower tone, "a strong, handsome, kind young officer, an' a great favourite. I've often wondered why he was taken an' me spared."

"P'raps it was for Susy's sake!" suggested Tommy.

Sam looked at the boy--a quick half-surprised glance. "Not a bad notion that, my lad. I shouldn't wonder if it _was_ for Susy's sake. I never thought o' that before. Anyhow I comfort myself sometimes when I think o' the poor mate that he was saved a deal o' torterin'; which, let me tell you, ain't easy to bear."

"But go a'ead, Sam, with more about the pirits," said Tommy.

"No, lad, no--not just now. I wants to snooze. So--you clap on all sail an' you'll be in time yet for the tail end o' Susy's lesson."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THROUGH FIRE AND SMOKE TO FELICITY.

Free once more, David Laidlaw naturally directed his steps towards Cherub Court.

His freedom was the result of Mr Dean's labours, for with the information which he had ferreted out that sedate individual found no difficulty in proving the innocence of our Scotsman, and the guilt, in more matters than one, of Mr John Lockhart. The latter was, however, too wide-awake for our detective, for when a warrant was obtained for his apprehension, and Mr Dean went to effect the capture, it was found that the bird had flown with a considerable amount of clients' property under his wing!

Although Laidlaw's period of incarceration had been unusually brief, it had afforded ample time for meditation. David's powers of meditation were strong--his powers of action even stronger. While in his cell he had opened his little Bible--the only book allowed him--and turned to the pa.s.sage which states that, "it is not good that man should be alone." Then he turned to that which a.s.serts that, "a good wife is from the Lord," after which he sat on his bench a long time with his eyes closed--it might be in meditation, perhaps in prayer. The only words that escaped him, however, were in a murmur.

"Ay, mither, ye're right. Ye've been right iver since _I_ kent ye. But ye'll be sair putt aboot, woman, whan ye hear that she's a waux doll!

Doll, indeed! angel wad be mair like the truth. But haud ye there, David, ye've no gotten her yet."

With some such thoughts in his brain, and a fixed resolve in his heart, he presented himself in the garden on the roof, where he found old Liz, Susy, and Sam Blake a.s.sembled. They all seemed as if oppressed by some disappointment, but their looks changed instantly on the entrance of the visitor. Susy, especially, sprang up with a bright smile, but observing the readiness and the look with which Laidlaw advanced to meet her, she checked herself, blushed, and looked as well as felt confused.

"My poor little girl is greatly put about" said Sam Blake in explanation, "because she's just heard from Samson and Son that they've too many hands already, an' don't want her."

"Don't _want_ her?" exclaimed the Scot; "they're born eediots!"

The emphasis with which this was said caused Susy to laugh, and to discover that her skirt had been caught by a nail in one of the flower-boxes. At the same time a vague suspicion for the first time entered the head of old Liz, causing her to wobble the fang with vigour and look at Laidlaw with some anxiety.

At this critical moment feet were heard clattering and stumbling up the stair as if in tremendous haste. Next moment Tommy burst upon their vision in a full suit of superfine blue with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons!

"Tommy!" exclaimed Susy in amazement.

"No, madam--no. Tummas, if _you_ please," said the boy with dignity, though almost bursting with suppressed excitement. "I'm man-servant to Colonel John Brentwood, Esquire, M.P., F.R.Z.Q.T., Feller of the Royal Society--an' good society, an' every other society. Salary not yet fixed; lodgin', washin', an' wittles found. Parkisites warious."

"But why didn't you tell us of this before?" asked Liz, patting the urchin's head and smiling benignantly.

"'Cause I wanted to screw you up vith surprise, an' I've done it too!

But I've on'y jest entered on my dooties, and 'ave bin sent immedingtly with a message that you an Susy are expected to pay us a wisit, which is now doo, an' Mr Da-a-a-vid Laidlaw is to go there right away--vithout delay--as we say in the poetical vest end."

"And when are Susy and I expected?" asked Liz.

"To-morrer."

"But what _are_ you, Tommy? What are you engaged to do?" asked Susy.

"Play wi' the knives, amoose myself wi' the boots and shoes of a mornin', entertain wisitors at the door with brief conversations, take occasional strolls with messages, be a sorter companion to Miss Rosa, wots to be married in a veek or two, and, ginerally, to enjoy myself.

I'm a tiger, I is, but I don't growl--oh no! I only purr. My name is Tummas, an' my 'ome is marble 'alls!"

Our Scotsman went off without delay in response to the message, and was thus prevented from carrying out his "fixed resolve" just then.

However, he wouldn't give in, not he! he would soon find a more convenient opportunity.

Meanwhile Tommy Splint having particularly requested and obtained leave to spend the night--his last night before going to service--with his "granny," he and Sam set to work in the garden to rig up temporary sleeping arrangements _a la_ Robinson Crusoe, for it was arranged that they should have a grand supper in the garret in honour of the rescue of Laidlaw--the returned convict, _alias_ ticket-of-leave man, as Tommy called him--and that the males of the party should thereafter sleep in the garden.

Need we say that the supper-party was jovial? We think not. The "ticket-of-leave man" and the "tiger" were inimitable in their own lines, and Sam came out so strong on the "pirits" of the Philippine Islands that the tiger even declared himself to be satiated with blood!

As for Susy--she would have been an amply sufficient audience for each of the party, had all the others been away, and the fang of old Liz became riotously demonstrative, though she herself remained silent gazing from one face to another with her glittering black eyes.

Finally the ladies retired to rest in the garret, and the gentlemen went to sleep in the garden.

Ah! how very old, yet ever new, is the word that man "knows not what an hour may bring forth!" Forces unseen, unthought of, are ever at work around us, from the effects of which, it may be, human strength is powerless to deliver.

That night, late--or rather, about the early hours of morning--a spark, which earlier in the night had fallen from the pipe of a drunkard in the public-house below, began to work its deadly way through the boarding of the floor. For a long time there was little smoke and no flame.

Gradually, however, the spark grew to a burning ma.s.s, which created the draught of air that fanned it.

It chanced that night that, under the influence of some irresistible impulse or antagonistic affinity like a musical discord, Mrs Rampy and Mrs Blathers were discussing their friends and neighbours in the abode of the former, without the softening influence of the teapot and old Liz.