Under the Waves: Diving in Deep Waters Part 38

Through the window of his helmet, Joe looked at his employer with an expression of pleased surprise. Then he took the slate, obliterated the information on it, and printed in an equally bold, but very sprawly hand:--

"Indeed? I wish you joy, sir."

Thereupon Edgar took the slate and wrote:--

"Thank you, Joe. Now, I leave you in charge. Keep a sharp eye on the men--especially on that lazy fellow who has a tendency to sleep and shirk duty. If the rock in the fair-way is got ready before my return, blast it at once, without waiting for me. You will find one of Siebe and Gorman's voltaic batteries in my lodging, also a frictional electrical machine, which you can use if you prefer it. In the store there is a large supply of tin-cases for gunpowder and compressed gun-cotton charges. There also you will find one of Heinke and Davis's magneto-electric exploders. I leave it entirely to your own judgment which apparatus to use. All sorts are admirable in their way; quite fresh, and in good working order. Have you anything to say to me before I go?"

"All right, sir," replied Joe, in his sprawly hand; "I'll attend to orders. When do you start, and when do you expect to be back?"

"I start immediately. The day of my return is uncertain, but I'll write to you."

Rubbing this out, Joe wrote:--

"You'll p'r'aps see my old 'ooman, sir. If you do, just give her my respects, an' say the last pair o' divin' drawers she knitted for me was fust-rate. Tightish, if anything, round the waist, but a bit o'

rope-yarn putt that all right--they're warm an' comfortable. Good-bye, I wish you joy again, sir."

"Good-bye," replied Edgar.

It was impossible that our hero could follow his inclination, and nod with his stiff-necked iron head-piece at parting. He therefore made the motion of kissing his hand to his trusty man, and giving the requisite signal, spread his arms like a pair of wings, and flew up to the realms of light!

Joe grinned broadly, and made the motion of kissing his hand to the ponderous soles of his employer's leaden boots as they pa.s.sed him, then, turning to the granite masonry at his side, he bent down and resumed his work.

Arrived at the region of atmospheric air, Edgar Berrington clambered on board the attending vessel, took off his amphibious clothing, and arrayed himself in the ordinary habiliments of a gentleman, after which he went ash.o.r.e, gave some instructions to the keeper of his lodgings, ordered his horse, galloped to the nearest railway station, flashed a telegraphic message to Miss Pritty to expect to see him that evening, and soon found himself rushing at forty miles an hour, away from the scene of his recent labours.

Receiving a telegraph envelope half-an-hour later, Miss Pritty turned pale, laid it on the table, sank on the sofa, shut her eyes, and attempted to reduce the violent beating of her heart, by pressing her left side tightly with both hands.

"It _must_ be death!--or accident!" she murmured faintly to herself, for she happened to be alone at the time.

Poor Miss Pritty had no near relations in the world except Edgar, and therefore there was little or no probability that any one would telegraph to her in connection with accident or death, nevertheless she entertained such an unconquerable horror of a telegram, that the mere sight of the well-known envelope, with its large-type t.i.tle, gave her a little shock; the reception of one was almost too much for her.

After suffering tortures for about as long a time as the telegram had taken to reach her, she at last summoned courage to open the envelope.

The first words, "Edgar Berrington," induced a little scream of alarm.

The next, "to Miss Pritty," quieted her a little. When, however, she learned that instead of being visited by news of death and disaster, she was merely to be visited by her nephew that same evening, all anxiety vanished from her speaking countenance, and was replaced by a mixture of surprise and amus.e.m.e.nt. Then she sat down on the sofa--from which, in her agitation, she had risen--and fell into a state of perplexity.

"Now I _do_ wish," she said, aloud, "that Eddy had had the sense to tell me whether I am to let his friends the Hazlits know of his impending visit. Perhaps he telegraphed to me on purpose to give me time to call and prepare them for his arrival. On the other hand, perhaps he wishes to take them by surprise. It may be that he is not on good terms with Mr Hazlit, and intends to use me as a go-between. What _shall_ I do?"

As her conscience was not appealed to in the matter, it gave no reply to the question; having little or no common sense to speak of, she could scarcely expect much of an answer from that part of her being. At last she made up her mind, and, according to a habit induced by a life of solitude, expressed it to the fireplace.

"Yes, that's what I'll do. I shall wait till near the time of the arrival of the last train, and then go straight off to Sea Cottage to spend the evening, leaving a message that if any one should call in my absence I am to be found there. This will give him an excuse, if he wants one, for calling, and if he does not want an excuse he can remain here till my return. I'll have the fire made up, and tell my domestic to offer tea to any one who should chance to call."

Miss Pritty thought it best, on the whole, to give an ambiguous order about the tea to her small domestic, for she knew that lively creature to be a compound of inquisitiveness and impudence, and did not choose to tell her who it was that she expected to call. She was very emphatic, however, in impressing on the small domestic the importance of being very civil and attentive, and of offering tea, insomuch that the child protested with much fervour that she would be _sure_ to attend to orders.

This resulted in quite an evening's amus.e.m.e.nt to the small domestic.

After Miss Pritty had gone out, the first person who chanced to call was the spouse of Mr Timms, the green-grocer, who had obviously recovered from her illness.

"Is Miss Pritty at 'ome?" she asked.

"No, ma'am, she ain't, she's hout," answered the small domestic.

"Ah! Well, it don't much matter. I on'y called to leave this 'ere little present of cabbidges an' cawliflowers--with Mr Timms' kind compliments and mine. She's been wery kind to us, 'as Miss Pritty, an'

we wishes to acknowledge it."

"Please, ma'am," said the domestic with a broad smile, as she took the basket of vegetables, "would you like a cup of tea?"

"What d'you mean, girl?" asked the green-grocer's wife in surprise.

"Please, ma'am, Miss Pritty told me to be sure to offer you a cup of tea."

"Did she, indeed? That's was wery kind of her, wery kind, though 'ow she come for to know I was a-goin' to call beats my comprehension.

'Owever, tell her I'm greatly obleeged to her, but 'avin 'ad tea just afore comin' out, an' bein' chock-full as I can 'old, I'd rather not.

Best thanks, all the same."

Mrs Timms went away deeply impressed with Miss Pritty's thoughtful kindness, and the small domestic, shutting the door, indulged in a fit of that species of suppressed laughter which is usually indicated by a series of spurts through the top of the nose and the compressed lips.

She was suddenly interrupted by a tap at the knocker.

Allowing as many minutes to elapse as she thought would have sufficed for her ascent from the kitchen, she once more opened the door. It was only a beggar--a ragged disreputable man--and she was about to shut the door in his face, with that summary politeness so well understood by servant girls, when a thought struck her.

"Oh, sir," she said, "would you like a cup of tea?"

The man evidently thought he was being made game of, for his face a.s.sumed such a threatening aspect that the small domestic incontinently shut the door with a sudden bang. The beggar amused himself by battering it with his stick for five minutes and then went away.

The next visitor was a lady.

"Is Miss Pritty at home, child?" she asked, regarding the domestic with a half-patronising, half-pitying air.

"No, ma'am, she's hout."

"Oh! That's a pity," said the lady, taking a book out of her pocket.

"Will you tell her that I called for her subscription to the new hospital that is about to be built in the town? Your mistress does not know me personally, but she knows all about the hospital, and this book, which I shall call for to-morrow, will speak for itself. Be sure you give it to her, child."

"Yes, ma'am. And, please, ma'am, would you like a cup of tea?"

The lady, who happened to possess a majestic pair of eyes, looked so astonished that the small domestic could scarcely contain herself.

"Are you deranged, child?" asked the lady.

"No, ma'am, if you please; but Miss Pritty told me to be sure to offer you a cup."

"To offer _me_ a cup, child!"

"Yes, ma'am. At least to offer a cup to any one who should call."

It need scarcely be added that the lady declined the tea, and went away, observing to herself in an undertone, that "she _must_ be deranged."

The small domestic again shut the door and spurted.