Chapter Fifteen.In the Market.I could almost have fancied that there was some truth in Ike’s declaration about old Basket or Bonyparty, as he called him, for certainly he seemed to quicken his pace as we drew nearer; and so it was that, as we turned into the busy market, and the horse made its way to one particular spot at the south-east corner, Ike triumphantly pointed to the church clock we had just passed.“What did I tell yer?” he exclaimed with a grim smile of satisfaction on his countenance; “he picked up them lost ten minutes, and here we are—just four.”What a scene it seemed to me. The whole place packed with laden cart, wagon, and light van. Noise, confusion, and shouting, pleasant smells and evil smells—flowers and crushed cabbage; here it was peas and mint, there it was strawberries; then a whole wagon announced through the sides of its piled-up baskets that the load was cauliflowers.For a time I could do nothing but gape and stare around at the bustling crowd and the number of men busily carrying great baskets on the top of porters’ knots. Women, too, in caps, ready to put the same great pad round forehead and make it rest upon their shoulders, and bear off great boxes of fruit or baskets of vegetable.Here I saw a complete stack of bushel baskets being regularly built up from the unloading of a wagon, to know by the scent they were early peas; a little farther on, some men seemed to be making a bastion for the defence of the market by means of gabions, which, to add to the fancy, were not filled with sand, but with large round gravel of a pale whitish-yellow, only a closer inspection showed that the contents were new potatoes.The strawberries took my attention, though, most, for I felt quite a feeling of sorrow for Old Brownsmith as I saw what seemed to me to be such a glut of the rich red fruit that I was sure those which we had brought up would not sell.How delicious they smelt in the old-fashioned pottles which we never see now—long narrow cones, with a cross-handle, over which, when filled, or supposed to be filled, for a big strawberry would block up the narrow part of the cone at times, a few leaves were placed, and then a piece of white paper was tied over with a bit of bast. Nowadays deep and shallow punnets are the order of the day, and a good thing too.Flowers! There seemed to me enough to last London for a month; and I was going, after a look round, to tell Ike that I was afraid we should have to take our load back, when I felt a heavy thump on the back of my head, which knocked off my cap.Nothing annoyed me more as a boy than for my cap to be knocked off. Shock knew that, and it had been one of his favourite tricks, so that I knew, as I thought, whence this piece of annoyance had come, and, picking up the small hard cabbage that had been thrown, I determined to avenge myself by sending it back with a good aim.True enough there was Master Shock, lying flat on his chest with his chin resting in his hands, and his feet kicking up behind, now going up and down, now patting together, for he had taken off his boots.Shock was having a good stare over the market from his elevated position on the top of the baskets; and, taking a good aim as I thought, I threw the little hard stale cabbage, and then dodged round the side of the cart. I stood aghast directly after, beside a pile of baskets, and watch a quarrel that had just begun a dozen yards away, where a big red-faced man was holding a very fluffy white hat in his hand and brushing it with his arm, and bandying angry words with a rough-looking young market porter, who, with a great flat basket under one arm and his other through a knot, was speaking menacingly—“Don’t you hit me again.”“Yes, I will, and knock your ugly head off if you do that again,” said the man with the white hat.“Do what again?”“Do what again!—why, throw rotten cabbages at my hat.”“I didn’t.”“Yes, you did.”“No, I didn’t.”“Why, half-a-dozen here saw you do it. You’ve got hold of the wrong man, my lad, for larks; so now, then!”I saw him stick on his white hat all on one side, and he looked very fierce and severe; while I felt covered with shame and confusion, for I knew that it was my cabbage that had done the mischief.Whop!That was another right in my ear, and I turned angrily upon Shock, forgetting all about the man with the white hat and the half-conceived idea of going up to him and telling the truth. But there was Shock staring about him from a dozen feet above my head, and singing softly, “I’ve been to Paris and I’ve been to Dover;” and the cabbage had struck me on the other side, so that unless Shock had learned how to project decayed cabbage after the fashion of boomerangs it could not have been he.There was a group of bare-legged boys, though, away to my left—a set of ragged objects who might have passed for Shock’s brothers and cousins, only that they were thin and unwholesomely pale, and extremely dirty, while although Shock was often quite as dirty, his seemed to be the wholesome dirt of country earth, and he looked brown, and healthy, and strong.Then I became aware of the presence of Ike, who said with a grim smile:“Don’t you heed them, my lad. I see one of ’em chuck it and then turn round. Wait a bit and I shall get a charnce, and I’ll drar my whip round one of ’em in a way as’ll be a startler.”A quick busy-looking man came bustling up just then, had a chat with Ike, and hurried off, carrying away my companion; and as soon as he had gone a bruised potato struck the side of the cart, and as I changed my position a damaged stump of a cauliflower struck Basket on the flank, making him start and give himself a shake that rattled all the chains of the harness before resettling down to the task of picking the corn out of the chaff in his well-filled nose-bag.My first idea was to call Shock down from where he was see-sawing his legs to and fro till his feet looked like two tilt-hammers beating a piece of iron, and then with his help attack the young vagabonds who were amusing themselves by making me a target for all the market refuse they could find.Second thoughts are said to be best, and I had sense enough to know that nothing would be gained by a struggle with the young roughs. So, gaining knowledge from my previous experience, I changed my position so as to get in the front of some sturdy-looking men who were all standing with their hands in their pockets chinking their money. I had yet to learn that they were costermongers waiting for prices to come down.Directly afterwhiz! came something close by my head and struck one of the men in the face, with the result that he made a dash at the boys, who darted away in and out among the baskets, whooping and yelling defiance; but one ran right into the arms of a man in uniform, who gave him three or four sharp cuts with a cane and sent him howling away.This episode was hardly over before Ike was back, and he nodded as he said:“He’s coming direckly to sell us off.”“Shall you be able to sell the things, then, this morning?”“Sell ’em! I should just think we shall; well too. There’s precious little in the market to-day.”“Little!” I exclaimed. “Why, I thought there would be too much for ours to be wanted.”“Bless your young innocence! this is nothing. Bad times for the costers, my boy; they’ll get nothing cheap. Here you, Shock, as you are come, help with these here ropes; and mind, you two, you look after these new ropes and the sacks.”“Look after them!” I said innocently.“Yes,” said Ike with a queer look; “they gets wild and into bad habits in London—walks away, they does—and when you go and look for ’em, there you finds ’em in marine store-shops in the dirty alleys.”Shock and I set to work helping to unfasten the ropes, which were laced in and out of the basket-handles, and through the iron stays, and beneath the hooks placed on purpose about the cart, after which the ropes were made into neat bunches by Ike, who passed them from hand to elbow over and over and tied them in the middle, and then in a row to the ladder of the cart.The baskets were just set free when the busy-looking man came back along with a tall red-nosed fellow. I noticed his red nose because it was the same colour as a book he held, whose leather cover was like a bad strawberry. He had a little ink-bottle hanging at his buttonhole and a pen in his mouth, and was followed by quite a crowd of keen-looking men.“Now, Jacob,” said the little man, and clapping his hand upon the thin man’s shoulder he stepped up on to the top of a pile of barge-baskets, whose lids were tied down with tarred string over the cauliflowers with which they were gorged.Then, as I stared at him, he put his hands on either side of his mouth and seemed to go mad with satisfaction, dancing his body up and down and slowly turning round as he yelled out:“Strawby’s! strawby’s! strawby’s!” over and over again.I looked up at Ike, whose face was as if cut out of mahogany, it was so solid; then I looked round at the people, but there wasn’t a smile. Nobody laughed but Shock, who grinned silently till he saw me watching him, and then he looked sulky and turned his back.Just then Ike, who seemed as solemn as a judge, climbed up the wheel and on to the cart with another man following him; and as the crowd increased about our cart I realised that everything was being sold by auction, for the busy man kept shouting prices quickly higher and higher, and then giving a tap with a pencil on a basket, entering something in a memorandum-book, while his red-nosed clerk did the same.I stared to see how quickly it was all done, Ike and the strange man handing down the baskets, which were seized and carried away by porters to carts standing at a distance; and I wondered how they would ever find out afterwards who had taken them, and get the money paid.But Ike seemed to be quite satisfied as he trampled about over the baskets, which were handed rapidly down till from being high up he was getting low down, before the busy-looking man began to shout what sounded to me like, “Flow—wow—wow—wow!” as if he were trying to imitate barking like a dog.Half the crowd went away now, but a fresh lot of men came up, and first of all baskets full of flowers were sold, then half-baskets, then so many bunches, as fast as could be.Again I found myself wondering how the money would be obtained, and I thought that Old Brownsmith would be sure to be cheated; but Ike looked quite easy, and instead of there being so many things in the market that ours would not sell, I found that the men around bought them up eagerly, and the baskets grew less in number than ever.I glanced round once or twice on that busy summer morning, to see the street as far as I could grasp packed with carts, and to these a regular throng of men were carrying baskets, while every here and there barrows were being piled up with flowers.All about us too, as far as I could see by climbing up to the ladder over Basket’s back, men were shouting away as they sold the contents of other carts, whose baskets were being handed down to the hungry crowds, who were pushing and struggling and making way for the porters with the heavy baskets on their heads.By degrees I began to understand that all this enormous quantity of garden produce was being bought up by the greengrocers and barrow-dealers from all over London, and that they would soon be driving off east, west, north, and south, to their shops and places of business.I should have liked to sit perched up there and watching all that went on, but I had to move to let Ike drag back the baskets; then I had to help handing out bunches, till at last the crowd melted away, and the busy man closed his book with a snap.“Very good this morning,” he shouted to Ike; and then climbing down he went off with his red-nosed clerk, and the people who were about followed him.“Getting warm, mate?” said Ike, grinning at me.“Yes,” I said; “the sun’s so hot, and there’s no wind here.”“No, my lad; they builds houses to shut it out. Soon be done now. You and Shock get down and hand up them baskets.”He pointed to a pile that some men had been making, and these I found all had “Brownsmith, Isleworth,” painted upon them, and it dawned upon me now that those which had been carried away would not be returned till next journey.“That’s it,” said Ike. “Market-gardeners has to give a lot o’ trust that way.”“But do they get the baskets all back again, Ike?” I said.“To be sure they do, my lad—Oh yes, pretty well.”“But shall we get paid the money for all that’s been sold this morning?”“Why, of course, my lad. That gentleman as sold for us, he’s our salesman; and he pays for it all, and they pay him. Don’t you see?”I said “Yes,” but my mind was not very clear about it.“We’re all right there. Work away, Shock, and let’s finish loading up, and then we’ll have our breakfast. Nice sort o’ looking party you are, to take anywhere to feed,” he grumbled, as he glanced at Shock, whose appearance was certainly not much in his favour.It was much easier work loading with empty baskets, and besides there was not a full load, so that it was not very long before Ike had them all piled up to his satisfaction and the ropes undone and thrown over and over and laced in and out and hooked and tied and strained to the sides of the cart.“That’s the way we does it, squire,” cried Ike; “haul away, Shock, my lad. You’ve worked well. Old Bonyparty’s had the best of it; this is his rest and feeding time. You might leave him there hours; but as soon as it’s time to go home, away he starts, and there’s no stopping him.“That’s about it,” he said, as he fastened off a rope. “That’ll do. We sha’n’t want no more for this lot. Now don’t you two leave the cart. I’m going up to Mr Blackton, our salesman, you know, just to see if he’s anything to say, and then we’ll go and have our braxfass. Don’t you chaps leave the cart.”“I sha’n’t go,” I said, and I glanced at Shock, who climbed up to the top of the baskets, and lay down flat on his face, so as to be away from me as it seemed, but I could see him watching me out of one eye from time to time.“I wonder whether he will ever be different,” I thought to myself, as I watched the selling of a huge load of beautifully white bunches of turnips, as regular and clean as could be, when all at once I felt a blow in my back, and looking sharply round, there were several of the ragged boys who haunted the market grinning at me.There was no handy place for me to post myself again so as to stop the throwing, and I had to content myself with looking at them angrily; but that did no good, for they separated, getting behind baskets and stacks of baskets, like so many sharpshooters, and from thence laid siege to me, firing shots with bits of market refuse, and anything they could find.I generally managed to dodge the missiles, but the boys were clever enough to hit me several times, and with my blood boiling, and fingers tingling to pull their ears or punch their dirty heads, I had to stand fast and bear it all.Barelegged, barefooted, and as active as cats, I felt sure that if I chased one he would dodge in and out and escape me, and as to throwing back at them, I was not going to stoop to do that.“Dirty young vagabonds!” I said to myself, and I looked at them contemptuously with as much effect as if I had directed my severe looks at a market basket; and then I went and leaned against the end of the cart, determined to take no notice of them, and wishing that Ike would come back.The young rascals only grew more impudent though, and came nearer, two in particular, and one of them, quite a little fellow with a big head and two small dark shiny eyes, over which his shock head of hair kept falling, ran right in, making charges at me, and striking at me with a muddy little fist, while his companion made pokes with a stick.This was getting beyond bearing, for I was not a wild beast in a cage unable to get away; but still I determined not to be led into any disgraceful struggle with the dirty little blackguards.I was not afraid of them, for I was too angry for that, and nothing would have given me greater satisfaction than to have come to blows. But that would not do, I knew.I glanced round and saw that there were plenty of people about, but they were all too busy with their own affairs to take much notice of me, so that if I wanted to free myself from the pack of young ruffians I must act for myself.The attack went on, and I should have fared worse, only that it soon became evident that ammunition was running short; and failing this, the boys began to throw words, while the two most daring kept making rushes at me and then shrank back ready to throw themselves down if I should strike at them.All at once I thought of Ike’s great cart-whip, and in the full confidence that I could make it crack as loudly and as well as its master I determined to give it a good whish or two in the air.It was stuck high up in one of the staples in the front of the cart, and, determined to climb up and reach it down, I turned and raised one foot to a spoke of the great wheel, when the two foremost boys uttered a yell and made a furious onslaught upon me.They were too late, for in an instant I had seen the object of their advance. There was no doubt about it. They were keeping my attention from what was going on upon the other side, where one of their companions had been stealing along under cover of some baskets, and was just in the act of untying one of the coils of nearly new rope, which had not been required and hung from the ladder.The young thief had that moment finished, and slipped his arm through, catching sight of me at the same time, and darting off.I did not stop to think. In one flash I realised that I had been left in charge of the cart, and had been so poor a sentry that I had allowed the enemy to get possession of something that I ought to have protected, and thinking of what Ike would say, and later on of Old Brownsmith, I ran off after the thief.
I could almost have fancied that there was some truth in Ike’s declaration about old Basket or Bonyparty, as he called him, for certainly he seemed to quicken his pace as we drew nearer; and so it was that, as we turned into the busy market, and the horse made its way to one particular spot at the south-east corner, Ike triumphantly pointed to the church clock we had just passed.
“What did I tell yer?” he exclaimed with a grim smile of satisfaction on his countenance; “he picked up them lost ten minutes, and here we are—just four.”
What a scene it seemed to me. The whole place packed with laden cart, wagon, and light van. Noise, confusion, and shouting, pleasant smells and evil smells—flowers and crushed cabbage; here it was peas and mint, there it was strawberries; then a whole wagon announced through the sides of its piled-up baskets that the load was cauliflowers.
For a time I could do nothing but gape and stare around at the bustling crowd and the number of men busily carrying great baskets on the top of porters’ knots. Women, too, in caps, ready to put the same great pad round forehead and make it rest upon their shoulders, and bear off great boxes of fruit or baskets of vegetable.
Here I saw a complete stack of bushel baskets being regularly built up from the unloading of a wagon, to know by the scent they were early peas; a little farther on, some men seemed to be making a bastion for the defence of the market by means of gabions, which, to add to the fancy, were not filled with sand, but with large round gravel of a pale whitish-yellow, only a closer inspection showed that the contents were new potatoes.
The strawberries took my attention, though, most, for I felt quite a feeling of sorrow for Old Brownsmith as I saw what seemed to me to be such a glut of the rich red fruit that I was sure those which we had brought up would not sell.
How delicious they smelt in the old-fashioned pottles which we never see now—long narrow cones, with a cross-handle, over which, when filled, or supposed to be filled, for a big strawberry would block up the narrow part of the cone at times, a few leaves were placed, and then a piece of white paper was tied over with a bit of bast. Nowadays deep and shallow punnets are the order of the day, and a good thing too.
Flowers! There seemed to me enough to last London for a month; and I was going, after a look round, to tell Ike that I was afraid we should have to take our load back, when I felt a heavy thump on the back of my head, which knocked off my cap.
Nothing annoyed me more as a boy than for my cap to be knocked off. Shock knew that, and it had been one of his favourite tricks, so that I knew, as I thought, whence this piece of annoyance had come, and, picking up the small hard cabbage that had been thrown, I determined to avenge myself by sending it back with a good aim.
True enough there was Master Shock, lying flat on his chest with his chin resting in his hands, and his feet kicking up behind, now going up and down, now patting together, for he had taken off his boots.
Shock was having a good stare over the market from his elevated position on the top of the baskets; and, taking a good aim as I thought, I threw the little hard stale cabbage, and then dodged round the side of the cart. I stood aghast directly after, beside a pile of baskets, and watch a quarrel that had just begun a dozen yards away, where a big red-faced man was holding a very fluffy white hat in his hand and brushing it with his arm, and bandying angry words with a rough-looking young market porter, who, with a great flat basket under one arm and his other through a knot, was speaking menacingly—
“Don’t you hit me again.”
“Yes, I will, and knock your ugly head off if you do that again,” said the man with the white hat.
“Do what again?”
“Do what again!—why, throw rotten cabbages at my hat.”
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why, half-a-dozen here saw you do it. You’ve got hold of the wrong man, my lad, for larks; so now, then!”
I saw him stick on his white hat all on one side, and he looked very fierce and severe; while I felt covered with shame and confusion, for I knew that it was my cabbage that had done the mischief.
Whop!
That was another right in my ear, and I turned angrily upon Shock, forgetting all about the man with the white hat and the half-conceived idea of going up to him and telling the truth. But there was Shock staring about him from a dozen feet above my head, and singing softly, “I’ve been to Paris and I’ve been to Dover;” and the cabbage had struck me on the other side, so that unless Shock had learned how to project decayed cabbage after the fashion of boomerangs it could not have been he.
There was a group of bare-legged boys, though, away to my left—a set of ragged objects who might have passed for Shock’s brothers and cousins, only that they were thin and unwholesomely pale, and extremely dirty, while although Shock was often quite as dirty, his seemed to be the wholesome dirt of country earth, and he looked brown, and healthy, and strong.
Then I became aware of the presence of Ike, who said with a grim smile:
“Don’t you heed them, my lad. I see one of ’em chuck it and then turn round. Wait a bit and I shall get a charnce, and I’ll drar my whip round one of ’em in a way as’ll be a startler.”
A quick busy-looking man came bustling up just then, had a chat with Ike, and hurried off, carrying away my companion; and as soon as he had gone a bruised potato struck the side of the cart, and as I changed my position a damaged stump of a cauliflower struck Basket on the flank, making him start and give himself a shake that rattled all the chains of the harness before resettling down to the task of picking the corn out of the chaff in his well-filled nose-bag.
My first idea was to call Shock down from where he was see-sawing his legs to and fro till his feet looked like two tilt-hammers beating a piece of iron, and then with his help attack the young vagabonds who were amusing themselves by making me a target for all the market refuse they could find.
Second thoughts are said to be best, and I had sense enough to know that nothing would be gained by a struggle with the young roughs. So, gaining knowledge from my previous experience, I changed my position so as to get in the front of some sturdy-looking men who were all standing with their hands in their pockets chinking their money. I had yet to learn that they were costermongers waiting for prices to come down.
Directly afterwhiz! came something close by my head and struck one of the men in the face, with the result that he made a dash at the boys, who darted away in and out among the baskets, whooping and yelling defiance; but one ran right into the arms of a man in uniform, who gave him three or four sharp cuts with a cane and sent him howling away.
This episode was hardly over before Ike was back, and he nodded as he said:
“He’s coming direckly to sell us off.”
“Shall you be able to sell the things, then, this morning?”
“Sell ’em! I should just think we shall; well too. There’s precious little in the market to-day.”
“Little!” I exclaimed. “Why, I thought there would be too much for ours to be wanted.”
“Bless your young innocence! this is nothing. Bad times for the costers, my boy; they’ll get nothing cheap. Here you, Shock, as you are come, help with these here ropes; and mind, you two, you look after these new ropes and the sacks.”
“Look after them!” I said innocently.
“Yes,” said Ike with a queer look; “they gets wild and into bad habits in London—walks away, they does—and when you go and look for ’em, there you finds ’em in marine store-shops in the dirty alleys.”
Shock and I set to work helping to unfasten the ropes, which were laced in and out of the basket-handles, and through the iron stays, and beneath the hooks placed on purpose about the cart, after which the ropes were made into neat bunches by Ike, who passed them from hand to elbow over and over and tied them in the middle, and then in a row to the ladder of the cart.
The baskets were just set free when the busy-looking man came back along with a tall red-nosed fellow. I noticed his red nose because it was the same colour as a book he held, whose leather cover was like a bad strawberry. He had a little ink-bottle hanging at his buttonhole and a pen in his mouth, and was followed by quite a crowd of keen-looking men.
“Now, Jacob,” said the little man, and clapping his hand upon the thin man’s shoulder he stepped up on to the top of a pile of barge-baskets, whose lids were tied down with tarred string over the cauliflowers with which they were gorged.
Then, as I stared at him, he put his hands on either side of his mouth and seemed to go mad with satisfaction, dancing his body up and down and slowly turning round as he yelled out:
“Strawby’s! strawby’s! strawby’s!” over and over again.
I looked up at Ike, whose face was as if cut out of mahogany, it was so solid; then I looked round at the people, but there wasn’t a smile. Nobody laughed but Shock, who grinned silently till he saw me watching him, and then he looked sulky and turned his back.
Just then Ike, who seemed as solemn as a judge, climbed up the wheel and on to the cart with another man following him; and as the crowd increased about our cart I realised that everything was being sold by auction, for the busy man kept shouting prices quickly higher and higher, and then giving a tap with a pencil on a basket, entering something in a memorandum-book, while his red-nosed clerk did the same.
I stared to see how quickly it was all done, Ike and the strange man handing down the baskets, which were seized and carried away by porters to carts standing at a distance; and I wondered how they would ever find out afterwards who had taken them, and get the money paid.
But Ike seemed to be quite satisfied as he trampled about over the baskets, which were handed rapidly down till from being high up he was getting low down, before the busy-looking man began to shout what sounded to me like, “Flow—wow—wow—wow!” as if he were trying to imitate barking like a dog.
Half the crowd went away now, but a fresh lot of men came up, and first of all baskets full of flowers were sold, then half-baskets, then so many bunches, as fast as could be.
Again I found myself wondering how the money would be obtained, and I thought that Old Brownsmith would be sure to be cheated; but Ike looked quite easy, and instead of there being so many things in the market that ours would not sell, I found that the men around bought them up eagerly, and the baskets grew less in number than ever.
I glanced round once or twice on that busy summer morning, to see the street as far as I could grasp packed with carts, and to these a regular throng of men were carrying baskets, while every here and there barrows were being piled up with flowers.
All about us too, as far as I could see by climbing up to the ladder over Basket’s back, men were shouting away as they sold the contents of other carts, whose baskets were being handed down to the hungry crowds, who were pushing and struggling and making way for the porters with the heavy baskets on their heads.
By degrees I began to understand that all this enormous quantity of garden produce was being bought up by the greengrocers and barrow-dealers from all over London, and that they would soon be driving off east, west, north, and south, to their shops and places of business.
I should have liked to sit perched up there and watching all that went on, but I had to move to let Ike drag back the baskets; then I had to help handing out bunches, till at last the crowd melted away, and the busy man closed his book with a snap.
“Very good this morning,” he shouted to Ike; and then climbing down he went off with his red-nosed clerk, and the people who were about followed him.
“Getting warm, mate?” said Ike, grinning at me.
“Yes,” I said; “the sun’s so hot, and there’s no wind here.”
“No, my lad; they builds houses to shut it out. Soon be done now. You and Shock get down and hand up them baskets.”
He pointed to a pile that some men had been making, and these I found all had “Brownsmith, Isleworth,” painted upon them, and it dawned upon me now that those which had been carried away would not be returned till next journey.
“That’s it,” said Ike. “Market-gardeners has to give a lot o’ trust that way.”
“But do they get the baskets all back again, Ike?” I said.
“To be sure they do, my lad—Oh yes, pretty well.”
“But shall we get paid the money for all that’s been sold this morning?”
“Why, of course, my lad. That gentleman as sold for us, he’s our salesman; and he pays for it all, and they pay him. Don’t you see?”
I said “Yes,” but my mind was not very clear about it.
“We’re all right there. Work away, Shock, and let’s finish loading up, and then we’ll have our breakfast. Nice sort o’ looking party you are, to take anywhere to feed,” he grumbled, as he glanced at Shock, whose appearance was certainly not much in his favour.
It was much easier work loading with empty baskets, and besides there was not a full load, so that it was not very long before Ike had them all piled up to his satisfaction and the ropes undone and thrown over and over and laced in and out and hooked and tied and strained to the sides of the cart.
“That’s the way we does it, squire,” cried Ike; “haul away, Shock, my lad. You’ve worked well. Old Bonyparty’s had the best of it; this is his rest and feeding time. You might leave him there hours; but as soon as it’s time to go home, away he starts, and there’s no stopping him.
“That’s about it,” he said, as he fastened off a rope. “That’ll do. We sha’n’t want no more for this lot. Now don’t you two leave the cart. I’m going up to Mr Blackton, our salesman, you know, just to see if he’s anything to say, and then we’ll go and have our braxfass. Don’t you chaps leave the cart.”
“I sha’n’t go,” I said, and I glanced at Shock, who climbed up to the top of the baskets, and lay down flat on his face, so as to be away from me as it seemed, but I could see him watching me out of one eye from time to time.
“I wonder whether he will ever be different,” I thought to myself, as I watched the selling of a huge load of beautifully white bunches of turnips, as regular and clean as could be, when all at once I felt a blow in my back, and looking sharply round, there were several of the ragged boys who haunted the market grinning at me.
There was no handy place for me to post myself again so as to stop the throwing, and I had to content myself with looking at them angrily; but that did no good, for they separated, getting behind baskets and stacks of baskets, like so many sharpshooters, and from thence laid siege to me, firing shots with bits of market refuse, and anything they could find.
I generally managed to dodge the missiles, but the boys were clever enough to hit me several times, and with my blood boiling, and fingers tingling to pull their ears or punch their dirty heads, I had to stand fast and bear it all.
Barelegged, barefooted, and as active as cats, I felt sure that if I chased one he would dodge in and out and escape me, and as to throwing back at them, I was not going to stoop to do that.
“Dirty young vagabonds!” I said to myself, and I looked at them contemptuously with as much effect as if I had directed my severe looks at a market basket; and then I went and leaned against the end of the cart, determined to take no notice of them, and wishing that Ike would come back.
The young rascals only grew more impudent though, and came nearer, two in particular, and one of them, quite a little fellow with a big head and two small dark shiny eyes, over which his shock head of hair kept falling, ran right in, making charges at me, and striking at me with a muddy little fist, while his companion made pokes with a stick.
This was getting beyond bearing, for I was not a wild beast in a cage unable to get away; but still I determined not to be led into any disgraceful struggle with the dirty little blackguards.
I was not afraid of them, for I was too angry for that, and nothing would have given me greater satisfaction than to have come to blows. But that would not do, I knew.
I glanced round and saw that there were plenty of people about, but they were all too busy with their own affairs to take much notice of me, so that if I wanted to free myself from the pack of young ruffians I must act for myself.
The attack went on, and I should have fared worse, only that it soon became evident that ammunition was running short; and failing this, the boys began to throw words, while the two most daring kept making rushes at me and then shrank back ready to throw themselves down if I should strike at them.
All at once I thought of Ike’s great cart-whip, and in the full confidence that I could make it crack as loudly and as well as its master I determined to give it a good whish or two in the air.
It was stuck high up in one of the staples in the front of the cart, and, determined to climb up and reach it down, I turned and raised one foot to a spoke of the great wheel, when the two foremost boys uttered a yell and made a furious onslaught upon me.
They were too late, for in an instant I had seen the object of their advance. There was no doubt about it. They were keeping my attention from what was going on upon the other side, where one of their companions had been stealing along under cover of some baskets, and was just in the act of untying one of the coils of nearly new rope, which had not been required and hung from the ladder.
The young thief had that moment finished, and slipped his arm through, catching sight of me at the same time, and darting off.
I did not stop to think. In one flash I realised that I had been left in charge of the cart, and had been so poor a sentry that I had allowed the enemy to get possession of something that I ought to have protected, and thinking of what Ike would say, and later on of Old Brownsmith, I ran off after the thief.
Chapter Sixteen.An Exciting Chase.But not without shouting to Shock, whom I suddenly remembered.“Shock—Shock!” I cried; “look out for the cart.” Not that I supposed that the boys I left behind would run off with it and the old horse; but there were more coils of rope swinging from the ladder, and there were the sacks and Ike’s old coat and whip.I thought of all this in an instant as I ran, followed by the yells of the young plunderer’s companions.I was not far behind, but he was barefoot, used to the place, knew every inch of the ground, and while I slipped and nearly went down twice over, he ran easily and well, pad—pad—pad—pad over the stones. He doubled here and went in and out of the carts and wagons, dodged round a stack of baskets there, threaded his way easily among the people, while I tried to imitate him, and only blundered against them and got thrust aside. Then I nearly knocked over a basket of peas built up on the top of other baskets like a pillar, and at last nearly lost my quarry, for he darted in at the door of a herbalist’s shop; and as I went panting up, sure now of catching him, I suddenly awakened to the fact that there was a door on the other side out by which he had passed.As luck had it, when I darted round I just caught sight of him disappearing behind a cabbage wagon.This time, as he disappeared, I tried to bring a little strategy to bear, and running round another way by which I felt sure he would go, I was able to make up all my lost ground, for I came plump upon him.“Stop, you young thief!” I panted as I made a snatch at the rope and his arm.It was like catching at an eel. Just as I thought I had him he dodged aside, dived under a horse, and as I ran round the back of the cart, not caring to imitate his example, he was a dozen yards away, going in and out of stalls and piles of vegetables.I lost sight of him then, and the next minute saw him watching me round a corner, when I again gave chase, hot, panting, and with a curious aching pain in my legs; but when I reached the corner he had gone, and I felt that I had lost him, and, thoroughly disheartened, did not know which way to turn. I was about to go despondently back to the cart, when, giving a final glance round, I saw him stealing away beyond some columns.He had not seen me, and he was walking; so, keeping as much out of sight as I could, and rejoicing in the fact that I had recovered my breath, I hurried on.All at once I heard a shrill warning cry, and looking to my right saw the two young ruffians who had been the most obnoxious, while at the same moment I saw that the warning had taken effect, the boy I chased having started off afresh.“I will catch you,” I muttered through my teeth; and, determined not to lose sight of him again, I ran on, in and out among carts and vans, jostling and being jostled, running blindly now, for my sole thought was to keep that boy in view, and this I did the more easily now, that feeling at last that he could not escape me in the market, he suddenly crossed the road, ran in and out for a minute in what seemed like an archway, and then ran as hard as he could along a wide street and I after him.Suddenly he turned to the right into a narrow street, and along by a great building. At the end of this he turned to the right again, past the front and nearly to the bottom of the street, when he turned to the left and followed a wide street till it became suddenly narrow, and instead of being full of people it was quite empty.Here he darted into a covered way with columns all along the side, running very fast still, and I suppose I was too, and gradually overtaking him, but he reached the end of the street before I could come up with him, and as he turned the corner I felt quite despairing once more at seeing him pass out of sight.It was only a matter of moments before I too turned the corner, and found myself in the dirtiest busiest street I had ever seen, with unpleasant-looking people about, and throngs of children playing over the foul pavement and in the road.My boy seemed quite at home there and as if he belonged to the place. I noticed that as I ran after him, wondering whether it would be of any use to call to them to stop him, though if I had determined that it would be I had not the breath, as I panted on at a much slower rate now, and with the perspiration streaming down my face.I kept losing sight of him, there were so many people grouped about the pavement along which he ran, while I kept to the road, but he went in and out among them as easily as a dog might have run, till all at once I saw him dive in amongst a number of men talking at the entrance of a narrow archway with a public-house on one side, and as I ran up I found that it was a court, down which I caught a glimpse of the boy with the rope still over his arm.I stopped for nothing but dashed in after him, the men giving way at first, but as I blundered in my haste against one rough-looking fellow, he roared out savagely:“Now, then, where are you running to?” and made a snatch at my collar.I eluded him by making quite a bound in my alarm, and nearly falling over the leg of another, who thrust it out to trip me up. I escaped a fall, however, and entered the court, which seemed to be half full of children, just in time to see my boy slip into a house nearly at the bottom, on the left.He stopped for a moment to look back to see if I was coming, and then he disappeared, and my heart gave a bound, for in my excitement I felt that I had succeeded, and that I had traced the young thief to his lair.I did not think about anything else, only that the children all stopped their games and set up a kind of yell, while it seemed to me that the men who were at the entrance of the court were all following me slowly with their hands thrust down low in their pockets, and it struck me for the moment that they were all coming down to see the capture of the thief.I was in happy ignorance just then that I had followed the boy into one of the vilest and most dangerous parts of London in those days,—to wit a Drury Lane court, one of the refuges of some of the worst characters in that district.In this ignorance I was still observant, and noticed that the doors on each side of the dirty court stood wide open, while the yell set up by the children brought people to some of the open windows.That was all seen in a glance, as I made for the open door at the end, before which a boy of my own size ran as if to stop me; but even if I had wished to stop just then I could not, and I gave him a sharp push, the weight of my body driving him back into a sitting position as I stumbled in from the pavement, up a couple of stone steps, and on to the boards of the narrow passage, which seemed, by contrast to the bright sunshine outside, quite dark.I did not stop, but went on as if by instinct to the end, passed a flight of steps leading down to the cellar kitchen, up which came a noisome odour that turned me sick, and began to ascend the stairs before me.Then I paused for a moment with my hand on a sticky balustrade and listened.Yes! I was quite right, for up above me I could hear the stairs creaking as if some one was going up; and to make me the more sure that the boy had not entered a room I could hear his hoarse panting, accompanied by a faint whimpering cry, as if every moment or two he kept saying softly, “Oh!”That satisfied me, and as fast as I could I went up one flight and then another of dirty creaking stairs and found myself on the first floor. Then up another flight, dirtier, more creaking, and with the woodwork broken away here and there.Up another flight worse still, and by the light of a staircase window I could see that the plaster ceiling was down here and there, showing the laths, while the wall was blackened by hands passing over it. On the handrail side the balusters were broken out entirely in the most dangerous way; but all this seemed of no consequence whatever, for there was the boy still going on, evidently to the very top of the house.All at once there was silence above me, and I thought he must have gone, but he was only listening, and as he heard me coming he uttered a faint cry, and went on up whimpering, evidently so much exhausted by the long chase that he could hardly drag himself up higher.By this time I was up to the second floor, where there were a couple of battered doors and another staircase window nearly without glass, the broken panes being covered with paper pasted on, or else, fortunately for the inhabitants of the noisome place, left open for the air to blow through.I ought to have stopped; in fact I ought never to have gone; but I was too much excited by my chase to think of anything but getting hold of that boy and shaking him till he dropped our new rope; and now as I began to toil breathlessly up the last flight I knew that my task was done, for my young enemy could hardly crawl, and had begun to sob and whine, and I could just make out:“You’d best let me be—I—I—ain’t—I ain’t done—done—”I heard no more, only that doors were being thrown open, and there was a buzz of voices below, with heavy footsteps in the passage.Still that did not seem to have anything to do with me, so intent was I on my pursuit up those last two flights of stairs, which seemed to be steeper, more broken, and more difficult to climb than those which had gone before. In fact the boy above me was dragging himself up, and I had settled down into a walk, helping myself on by the dirty hand-rail, and panting so hoarsely that each breath came to be a snore. My heart, too, throbbed heavily, and seemed to be beating right up into my throat.I had gained on my quarry, so that we were on the last flight together, and this gave me the requisite strength for the last climb, for I knew that he could go no further.Half-way up and there was a sloping ceiling above, in which was a blackened skylight, across which was a string and some dirty white garments hanging to dry, while to right and to left there were doors that had been painted black for reasons full of wisdom; and as my head rose higher I saw the boy who had literally crawled up on to the landing, rise up, with the rope still upon his arm, and fling himself against the farthest of these two doors.It flew open with a crash, and then seemed to be banged to heavily, but it was against me, for, summoning up all my remaining strength, I reached the top, and imitating the boy’s action, the door came back upon my hands, and was dashed open again.I almost tumbled in, staggering forward, and hardly able to keep upon my legs, so that I nearly reached the middle of the room before I was aware that the boy was cowering down in a corner upon our rope, and that a big scowling stubble-chinned man had just risen dressed from a bed on which he had lain, to catch me by the shoulders in a tremendous grip, and hold me backwards panting like some newly captured bird.I noticed that the man wore a great sleeved waistcoat, breeches, and heavy boots, and that his low forehead was puckered up into an ugly scowl, with one great wrinkle across it that seemed like another mouth as he forced me right back against the wall, and held me shivering there.“Here, shet that there door, Polly,” he said in a low harsh growl, like the snarl of a wild beast. Then to me:“Here, what d’yer mean a-comin’ in here, eh?”He accompanied his words with a fierce shake that made the back of my head tap against the wall.For a few moments the man’s savage look seemed to fascinate me, and I felt horribly alarmed, as I could think for the moment about nothing but the Ogre and Hop-o’-my-thumb, and wonder whether he was going to take out a big knife and threaten me. I was still panting and breathless with my exertions, and there was a curious pain in my legs, mingled with a sensation as if they were going to double up under me, but I made an effort to be brave as the great heavy-browed scoundrel gave me another shake, and said:—“D’yer hear? What d’yer mean by banging into my room like that ’ere?”I glanced at a sad-faced dull-eyed slatternly woman who had closed the door, and then at the boy, who still crouched close up under the window, whimpering like a whipped dog, but keenly watching all that was going on with his sharp restless dark eyes; then, making a determined attempt to be braver than I looked, I said as stoutly as I could:“I want our new rope. He stole our new rope.”“Who stole yer noo rope!” cried the fellow, giving me another shake; “what d’yer mean?”“He took our rope off the cart in Covent Garden this morning,” I cried, feeling angry now.“Why, he ain’t been out o’ the court this morning,” said the fellow sharply; “have yer, Micky?”“No, father,” said the boy.“Jest up, ain’t he, missus?” continued my captor, turning to the heavy-eyed woman.“Yes, just up,” said the woman in a low mechanical voice, and then with more animation, “Let him go, Ned.”“You mind yer own business,” said the fellow savagely; then to me, “Now, then, d’yer hear that?”“I don’t care; he did,” I said firmly. “He stole our rope—that’s it, you give it me directly.”“What! that?” he cried. “You’re a nice un, you are. Why, that’s my rope, as ’longs to my donnerkey-cart. Don’t you come lying here.”“I tell you that’s our rope, and I saw him steal it,” I cried, growing stronger now. “You let me go, and give me my rope, or I’ll tell the police.”“Why, you never had no rope, yer young liar!” he cried.“It’s my master’s rope,” I said, struggling to get free. “I will have it.”“What! yer’d steal it, would yer? Yer’d tell the polliss, would yer!” growled the fellow, tightening his grip; “I’ll soon see about that. Here you, Micky, bring that there rope here.”The boy struggled to his feet, and came slowly to us with the rope, which the man scanned eagerly.“I don’t want to make no mistakes,” he growled. “Let’s see it. If it’s your rope, you shall have it, but—now then! d’yer hear?”This was to the boy, who took advantage of my helpless position to give me a couple of savage kicks in the leg as he stood there; but as he had no shoes on, the kicks did not do much harm.“Why, o’ course it is our rope,” growled the fellow. “Gahn with you, what d’yer mean by coming here with a tale like that?”He gave me a shake, and the woman interfered.“Let him go, Ned,” she said, “or ther’ll be a row.”The man took one hand from my shoulder, and doubled his great fist, which he held close to the woman’s face in a menacing way. Then turning sharply he made believe to strike me with all his might right in the mouth, when, as I flinched, he growled out with a savage grin:“Ah! yer know’d yer deserved it. Now I dunno whether I’m going to keep yer here, or whether I shall let yer go; but whichever I does, don’t you go a sweering that this here’s your rope, a cause it’s mine. D’yer hear, mine?”The door was kicked open at that moment, and a couple of the rough-looking fellows I had seen at the entrance to the court stood half inside, leaning against the door-posts and looking stolidly on.I was about to appeal to them for help, but my instinct told me that such an application would be in vain, while their first words told me how right I was.“Give it him, Ned. What’s he a-doin’ here?” said one.“See if he’s got any tin,” said the other.“Ah! make him pay up,” said the first.“’Ow much have yer got, eh?” said my captor, giving me a shake, which was the signal for the boy to kick at me again with all his might.“Gahn, will yer,” cried the man, “or I’ll wrap that rope’s end round yer.”The woman just then made a step forward and struck at the boy, who dodged the blow, and retreated to the far end of the room, the woman shrinking away too as the man growled:“Let him alone; will yer?”I seized the opportunity to wrench myself partly away, and to catch hold of the rope, which the man had now beneath one of his feet.“Ah, would yer!” he shouted, tearing the rope away from me. “Comes up here, mates, bold as brass, and says it’s his’n.”I felt more enraged and mortified now than alarmed, and I cried out:“It is our rope, and that boy stole it; and I’ll tell the police.”“Oh! yer will, will yer?” cried my captor. “We’ll see about that. Here, what money have yer got?”“I’ve only enough for my breakfast,” I cried defiantly. “Give me my rope and let me go.”“Oh yes, I’ll let yer go,” he cried, as I wrestled to get away, fighting with all my might, and striving to reach the rope at the same moment.“Look out, Ned,” said one of the men at the door, grinning. “He’ll be too much for yer;” and the other uttered a hoarse laugh.“Ah, that he will!” cried the big fellow, letting me get hold of the rope, and, tightening his grasp upon my collar, he kicked my legs from under me, so that I fell heavily half across the coil, while he went down on one knee and held me panting and quivering there, perfectly helpless.The boy made another dart forward, and I saw the woman catch at him by the head, but his shortly-cropped hair glided through her hands, and he would have reached me had not the man kicked out at him and made him stop suddenly and watch for another chance.“Who’s got a knife?” growled the man now savagely as he turned towards the two fellows at the door; “I’ll soon show him what it is to come here a-wanting to steal our cart-ropes. Chuck that there knife here.”He rose as he spoke, and planted one foot upon my chest. Then catching the pocket-knife thrown to him by one of the men at the door, he opened it with a great deal of show and menace, bending down to stare savagely in my eyes as he whetted the blade upon the boot resting on my chest.Of course I was a good deal alarmed, but I knew all the while that this was all show and that the great ruffian was trying to frighten me. I was in a desperately bad state, in an evil place, but it was broad daylight, and people had seen me come in, so that I did not for a moment think he would dare to kill me. All the same, though, I could not help feeling a curious nervous kind of tremor run through my frame as he flourished the knife about and glared at me as if pondering as to what he should do next.“I wish Ike were here,” I thought; and as I did so I could not help thinking how big and strong he was, and how little he would make of seizing this great cowardly ruffian by the throat and making him let me go.“Now, then,” he cried, “out wi’ that there money.” For answer, I foolishly showed him where it was by clapping my hand upon my pocket, when, with a grin of satisfaction, he tore my hand away, thrust in his great fingers, and dragged it out, spat on the various coins, and thrust them in his own pocket.“What d’yer say?” he cried, bending down again towards me.“The police shall make you give that up,” I panted.“Says we’re to spend this here in beer, mates,” he said, grinning, while the woman stood with her eyes half shut and her arms folded, looking on.The two men at the door laughed.“Now, then,” said the big fellow, “since he’s come out genteel-like with his money, I don’t think I’ll give him the knife this time. Get up with yer, and be off while your shoes are good.”He took his great boot off my chest, and I started up.“I wouldn’t give much for yer,” he growled, “if yer showed yer face here agen.”He accompanied this with such a menacing look that I involuntarily shrank away, but recovering myself directly I seized the coil of rope and made for the door.“What!” roared the great ruffian, snatching the rope, and, as I held on to it, dragging me back. “Trying to steal, are you?”“It’s mine—it’s ours,” I cried passionately.“Oh! I’ll soon let yer know about that,” he cried. “Look here, mates; this is our rope, ain’t it?”“Yes,” said one of them: “I’ll swear to it.”“It’s mine,” I cried, tugging at it angrily.“Let go, will yer—d’yer hear; let go.”He tugged and snatched at it savagely, and just then the boy leaped upon me, butting at me, and striking with all his might, infuriating me so by his cowardly attack, that, holding on to the rope with one hand, I swung round my doubled fist with the other and struck him with all my might.It must have been a heavy blow right in the face, for he staggered back, caught against a chair, and then fell with a crash, howling dismally.“Look at that, now,” cried the big ruffian. “Now he shall have it.”“Serves him right!” said the woman passionately.“Let the boy go, Ned, or you’ll get into trouble.”“I’ll get into trouble for something then,” cried the fellow savagely, as he hurt me terribly by jerking the rope out of my hand and catching me by the collar, when I saw the two men at the open door look round, and I heard a familiar growl on the stairs that made my heart leap with joy.“Ike!—Here!—Ike!” I shouted with all my might.“Hold yer row,” hissed the great ruffian in a hoarse whisper, and clapping one hand behind my head he placed the other upon my mouth.He dragged me round, half-choked and helpless, and then he said something over his shoulder to the woman, while I fought and struggled, and tried hard to shout again to Ike, whose heavy feet I could hear in the midst of a good deal of altercation on the stairs.As I struggled to get free I saw that the window was opened and the rope thrown out. Then the window was quickly shut, and I was dragged towards the door.“Here, you be off outer this,” whispered the great ruffian, with his lips close to my ear. “You cut; and don’t you—”He stopped short, holding me tightly, and seemed to hesitate, his eyes glaring round as if in search of some place where he could hide me, not knowing what to do for the best.“Shut the door, mates,” he said quickly; and the two men dragged the door to after them as they stood outside.“Just you make half a sound, and—”He put his lips close to my ear as he said this, and closed the great clasp-knife with a sharp click which made me start; while his eyes seemed to fascinate me as he bent down and glared at me.It was only for a moment, though, and then I managed to slip my face aside and shouted aloud:“Ike!”There was a rush and a scuffle outside, and the woman said in an ill-used tone:“I told yer how it would be.”“You hold—”He did not finish, for just then one of the men outside growled—plainly heard through the thin door:“Now, then, where are yer shovin’ to?”“In here,” roared a voice that sent a thrill of joy through me.“Now, then, what d’yer want?” cried the big fellow, thrusting me behind him as Ike kicked open the door and strode into the room.“What do I want?” he roared. “I want him and our cart-rope. Now, then, where is it?”There was a fierce muttering among the men, and they drew together while the boy and the woman cowered into one corner of the attic.“Oh! you’re not going to scare me,” cried Ike fiercely. “There’s the police just at hand if I wants help. Now then, where’s that rope?”“What rope?” growled the ruffian. “I don’t know about no ropes.”“They threw it out of the window, Ike,” I cried.“That’s a lie,” snarled the man. “There ain’t never been no ropes here.”“There has been one,” I cried, feeling bold now; “but they threw it out of the window.”“Well, of all—” began one of the men, who had crossed the room with his companion to the big ruffian’s side.“You go on down, my lad,” whispered Ike in a low deep voice. “Go on, now.”“But are you coming?” I whispered back.“You may depend on that,” he said, as if to himself, “if they’ll let me. Go on.”I moved towards the open door, when one of the men made a dash to stop me; but Ike threw put one leg, and he fell sprawling. At the same moment my enemy made a rush at Ike, who stepped back, and then I saw his great fist fly out straight. There was a dull, heavy sound, and the big ruffian stopped short, reeled, and then dropped down upon his hands and knees.“Quick, boy, quick! You go first,” whispered Ike, as I stopped as if paralysed; “I’ll foller.”His words roused me, and I ran out of the room.
But not without shouting to Shock, whom I suddenly remembered.
“Shock—Shock!” I cried; “look out for the cart.” Not that I supposed that the boys I left behind would run off with it and the old horse; but there were more coils of rope swinging from the ladder, and there were the sacks and Ike’s old coat and whip.
I thought of all this in an instant as I ran, followed by the yells of the young plunderer’s companions.
I was not far behind, but he was barefoot, used to the place, knew every inch of the ground, and while I slipped and nearly went down twice over, he ran easily and well, pad—pad—pad—pad over the stones. He doubled here and went in and out of the carts and wagons, dodged round a stack of baskets there, threaded his way easily among the people, while I tried to imitate him, and only blundered against them and got thrust aside. Then I nearly knocked over a basket of peas built up on the top of other baskets like a pillar, and at last nearly lost my quarry, for he darted in at the door of a herbalist’s shop; and as I went panting up, sure now of catching him, I suddenly awakened to the fact that there was a door on the other side out by which he had passed.
As luck had it, when I darted round I just caught sight of him disappearing behind a cabbage wagon.
This time, as he disappeared, I tried to bring a little strategy to bear, and running round another way by which I felt sure he would go, I was able to make up all my lost ground, for I came plump upon him.
“Stop, you young thief!” I panted as I made a snatch at the rope and his arm.
It was like catching at an eel. Just as I thought I had him he dodged aside, dived under a horse, and as I ran round the back of the cart, not caring to imitate his example, he was a dozen yards away, going in and out of stalls and piles of vegetables.
I lost sight of him then, and the next minute saw him watching me round a corner, when I again gave chase, hot, panting, and with a curious aching pain in my legs; but when I reached the corner he had gone, and I felt that I had lost him, and, thoroughly disheartened, did not know which way to turn. I was about to go despondently back to the cart, when, giving a final glance round, I saw him stealing away beyond some columns.
He had not seen me, and he was walking; so, keeping as much out of sight as I could, and rejoicing in the fact that I had recovered my breath, I hurried on.
All at once I heard a shrill warning cry, and looking to my right saw the two young ruffians who had been the most obnoxious, while at the same moment I saw that the warning had taken effect, the boy I chased having started off afresh.
“I will catch you,” I muttered through my teeth; and, determined not to lose sight of him again, I ran on, in and out among carts and vans, jostling and being jostled, running blindly now, for my sole thought was to keep that boy in view, and this I did the more easily now, that feeling at last that he could not escape me in the market, he suddenly crossed the road, ran in and out for a minute in what seemed like an archway, and then ran as hard as he could along a wide street and I after him.
Suddenly he turned to the right into a narrow street, and along by a great building. At the end of this he turned to the right again, past the front and nearly to the bottom of the street, when he turned to the left and followed a wide street till it became suddenly narrow, and instead of being full of people it was quite empty.
Here he darted into a covered way with columns all along the side, running very fast still, and I suppose I was too, and gradually overtaking him, but he reached the end of the street before I could come up with him, and as he turned the corner I felt quite despairing once more at seeing him pass out of sight.
It was only a matter of moments before I too turned the corner, and found myself in the dirtiest busiest street I had ever seen, with unpleasant-looking people about, and throngs of children playing over the foul pavement and in the road.
My boy seemed quite at home there and as if he belonged to the place. I noticed that as I ran after him, wondering whether it would be of any use to call to them to stop him, though if I had determined that it would be I had not the breath, as I panted on at a much slower rate now, and with the perspiration streaming down my face.
I kept losing sight of him, there were so many people grouped about the pavement along which he ran, while I kept to the road, but he went in and out among them as easily as a dog might have run, till all at once I saw him dive in amongst a number of men talking at the entrance of a narrow archway with a public-house on one side, and as I ran up I found that it was a court, down which I caught a glimpse of the boy with the rope still over his arm.
I stopped for nothing but dashed in after him, the men giving way at first, but as I blundered in my haste against one rough-looking fellow, he roared out savagely:
“Now, then, where are you running to?” and made a snatch at my collar.
I eluded him by making quite a bound in my alarm, and nearly falling over the leg of another, who thrust it out to trip me up. I escaped a fall, however, and entered the court, which seemed to be half full of children, just in time to see my boy slip into a house nearly at the bottom, on the left.
He stopped for a moment to look back to see if I was coming, and then he disappeared, and my heart gave a bound, for in my excitement I felt that I had succeeded, and that I had traced the young thief to his lair.
I did not think about anything else, only that the children all stopped their games and set up a kind of yell, while it seemed to me that the men who were at the entrance of the court were all following me slowly with their hands thrust down low in their pockets, and it struck me for the moment that they were all coming down to see the capture of the thief.
I was in happy ignorance just then that I had followed the boy into one of the vilest and most dangerous parts of London in those days,—to wit a Drury Lane court, one of the refuges of some of the worst characters in that district.
In this ignorance I was still observant, and noticed that the doors on each side of the dirty court stood wide open, while the yell set up by the children brought people to some of the open windows.
That was all seen in a glance, as I made for the open door at the end, before which a boy of my own size ran as if to stop me; but even if I had wished to stop just then I could not, and I gave him a sharp push, the weight of my body driving him back into a sitting position as I stumbled in from the pavement, up a couple of stone steps, and on to the boards of the narrow passage, which seemed, by contrast to the bright sunshine outside, quite dark.
I did not stop, but went on as if by instinct to the end, passed a flight of steps leading down to the cellar kitchen, up which came a noisome odour that turned me sick, and began to ascend the stairs before me.
Then I paused for a moment with my hand on a sticky balustrade and listened.
Yes! I was quite right, for up above me I could hear the stairs creaking as if some one was going up; and to make me the more sure that the boy had not entered a room I could hear his hoarse panting, accompanied by a faint whimpering cry, as if every moment or two he kept saying softly, “Oh!”
That satisfied me, and as fast as I could I went up one flight and then another of dirty creaking stairs and found myself on the first floor. Then up another flight, dirtier, more creaking, and with the woodwork broken away here and there.
Up another flight worse still, and by the light of a staircase window I could see that the plaster ceiling was down here and there, showing the laths, while the wall was blackened by hands passing over it. On the handrail side the balusters were broken out entirely in the most dangerous way; but all this seemed of no consequence whatever, for there was the boy still going on, evidently to the very top of the house.
All at once there was silence above me, and I thought he must have gone, but he was only listening, and as he heard me coming he uttered a faint cry, and went on up whimpering, evidently so much exhausted by the long chase that he could hardly drag himself up higher.
By this time I was up to the second floor, where there were a couple of battered doors and another staircase window nearly without glass, the broken panes being covered with paper pasted on, or else, fortunately for the inhabitants of the noisome place, left open for the air to blow through.
I ought to have stopped; in fact I ought never to have gone; but I was too much excited by my chase to think of anything but getting hold of that boy and shaking him till he dropped our new rope; and now as I began to toil breathlessly up the last flight I knew that my task was done, for my young enemy could hardly crawl, and had begun to sob and whine, and I could just make out:
“You’d best let me be—I—I—ain’t—I ain’t done—done—”
I heard no more, only that doors were being thrown open, and there was a buzz of voices below, with heavy footsteps in the passage.
Still that did not seem to have anything to do with me, so intent was I on my pursuit up those last two flights of stairs, which seemed to be steeper, more broken, and more difficult to climb than those which had gone before. In fact the boy above me was dragging himself up, and I had settled down into a walk, helping myself on by the dirty hand-rail, and panting so hoarsely that each breath came to be a snore. My heart, too, throbbed heavily, and seemed to be beating right up into my throat.
I had gained on my quarry, so that we were on the last flight together, and this gave me the requisite strength for the last climb, for I knew that he could go no further.
Half-way up and there was a sloping ceiling above, in which was a blackened skylight, across which was a string and some dirty white garments hanging to dry, while to right and to left there were doors that had been painted black for reasons full of wisdom; and as my head rose higher I saw the boy who had literally crawled up on to the landing, rise up, with the rope still upon his arm, and fling himself against the farthest of these two doors.
It flew open with a crash, and then seemed to be banged to heavily, but it was against me, for, summoning up all my remaining strength, I reached the top, and imitating the boy’s action, the door came back upon my hands, and was dashed open again.
I almost tumbled in, staggering forward, and hardly able to keep upon my legs, so that I nearly reached the middle of the room before I was aware that the boy was cowering down in a corner upon our rope, and that a big scowling stubble-chinned man had just risen dressed from a bed on which he had lain, to catch me by the shoulders in a tremendous grip, and hold me backwards panting like some newly captured bird.
I noticed that the man wore a great sleeved waistcoat, breeches, and heavy boots, and that his low forehead was puckered up into an ugly scowl, with one great wrinkle across it that seemed like another mouth as he forced me right back against the wall, and held me shivering there.
“Here, shet that there door, Polly,” he said in a low harsh growl, like the snarl of a wild beast. Then to me:
“Here, what d’yer mean a-comin’ in here, eh?”
He accompanied his words with a fierce shake that made the back of my head tap against the wall.
For a few moments the man’s savage look seemed to fascinate me, and I felt horribly alarmed, as I could think for the moment about nothing but the Ogre and Hop-o’-my-thumb, and wonder whether he was going to take out a big knife and threaten me. I was still panting and breathless with my exertions, and there was a curious pain in my legs, mingled with a sensation as if they were going to double up under me, but I made an effort to be brave as the great heavy-browed scoundrel gave me another shake, and said:—
“D’yer hear? What d’yer mean by banging into my room like that ’ere?”
I glanced at a sad-faced dull-eyed slatternly woman who had closed the door, and then at the boy, who still crouched close up under the window, whimpering like a whipped dog, but keenly watching all that was going on with his sharp restless dark eyes; then, making a determined attempt to be braver than I looked, I said as stoutly as I could:
“I want our new rope. He stole our new rope.”
“Who stole yer noo rope!” cried the fellow, giving me another shake; “what d’yer mean?”
“He took our rope off the cart in Covent Garden this morning,” I cried, feeling angry now.
“Why, he ain’t been out o’ the court this morning,” said the fellow sharply; “have yer, Micky?”
“No, father,” said the boy.
“Jest up, ain’t he, missus?” continued my captor, turning to the heavy-eyed woman.
“Yes, just up,” said the woman in a low mechanical voice, and then with more animation, “Let him go, Ned.”
“You mind yer own business,” said the fellow savagely; then to me, “Now, then, d’yer hear that?”
“I don’t care; he did,” I said firmly. “He stole our rope—that’s it, you give it me directly.”
“What! that?” he cried. “You’re a nice un, you are. Why, that’s my rope, as ’longs to my donnerkey-cart. Don’t you come lying here.”
“I tell you that’s our rope, and I saw him steal it,” I cried, growing stronger now. “You let me go, and give me my rope, or I’ll tell the police.”
“Why, you never had no rope, yer young liar!” he cried.
“It’s my master’s rope,” I said, struggling to get free. “I will have it.”
“What! yer’d steal it, would yer? Yer’d tell the polliss, would yer!” growled the fellow, tightening his grip; “I’ll soon see about that. Here you, Micky, bring that there rope here.”
The boy struggled to his feet, and came slowly to us with the rope, which the man scanned eagerly.
“I don’t want to make no mistakes,” he growled. “Let’s see it. If it’s your rope, you shall have it, but—now then! d’yer hear?”
This was to the boy, who took advantage of my helpless position to give me a couple of savage kicks in the leg as he stood there; but as he had no shoes on, the kicks did not do much harm.
“Why, o’ course it is our rope,” growled the fellow. “Gahn with you, what d’yer mean by coming here with a tale like that?”
He gave me a shake, and the woman interfered.
“Let him go, Ned,” she said, “or ther’ll be a row.”
The man took one hand from my shoulder, and doubled his great fist, which he held close to the woman’s face in a menacing way. Then turning sharply he made believe to strike me with all his might right in the mouth, when, as I flinched, he growled out with a savage grin:
“Ah! yer know’d yer deserved it. Now I dunno whether I’m going to keep yer here, or whether I shall let yer go; but whichever I does, don’t you go a sweering that this here’s your rope, a cause it’s mine. D’yer hear, mine?”
The door was kicked open at that moment, and a couple of the rough-looking fellows I had seen at the entrance to the court stood half inside, leaning against the door-posts and looking stolidly on.
I was about to appeal to them for help, but my instinct told me that such an application would be in vain, while their first words told me how right I was.
“Give it him, Ned. What’s he a-doin’ here?” said one.
“See if he’s got any tin,” said the other.
“Ah! make him pay up,” said the first.
“’Ow much have yer got, eh?” said my captor, giving me a shake, which was the signal for the boy to kick at me again with all his might.
“Gahn, will yer,” cried the man, “or I’ll wrap that rope’s end round yer.”
The woman just then made a step forward and struck at the boy, who dodged the blow, and retreated to the far end of the room, the woman shrinking away too as the man growled:
“Let him alone; will yer?”
I seized the opportunity to wrench myself partly away, and to catch hold of the rope, which the man had now beneath one of his feet.
“Ah, would yer!” he shouted, tearing the rope away from me. “Comes up here, mates, bold as brass, and says it’s his’n.”
I felt more enraged and mortified now than alarmed, and I cried out:
“It is our rope, and that boy stole it; and I’ll tell the police.”
“Oh! yer will, will yer?” cried my captor. “We’ll see about that. Here, what money have yer got?”
“I’ve only enough for my breakfast,” I cried defiantly. “Give me my rope and let me go.”
“Oh yes, I’ll let yer go,” he cried, as I wrestled to get away, fighting with all my might, and striving to reach the rope at the same moment.
“Look out, Ned,” said one of the men at the door, grinning. “He’ll be too much for yer;” and the other uttered a hoarse laugh.
“Ah, that he will!” cried the big fellow, letting me get hold of the rope, and, tightening his grasp upon my collar, he kicked my legs from under me, so that I fell heavily half across the coil, while he went down on one knee and held me panting and quivering there, perfectly helpless.
The boy made another dart forward, and I saw the woman catch at him by the head, but his shortly-cropped hair glided through her hands, and he would have reached me had not the man kicked out at him and made him stop suddenly and watch for another chance.
“Who’s got a knife?” growled the man now savagely as he turned towards the two fellows at the door; “I’ll soon show him what it is to come here a-wanting to steal our cart-ropes. Chuck that there knife here.”
He rose as he spoke, and planted one foot upon my chest. Then catching the pocket-knife thrown to him by one of the men at the door, he opened it with a great deal of show and menace, bending down to stare savagely in my eyes as he whetted the blade upon the boot resting on my chest.
Of course I was a good deal alarmed, but I knew all the while that this was all show and that the great ruffian was trying to frighten me. I was in a desperately bad state, in an evil place, but it was broad daylight, and people had seen me come in, so that I did not for a moment think he would dare to kill me. All the same, though, I could not help feeling a curious nervous kind of tremor run through my frame as he flourished the knife about and glared at me as if pondering as to what he should do next.
“I wish Ike were here,” I thought; and as I did so I could not help thinking how big and strong he was, and how little he would make of seizing this great cowardly ruffian by the throat and making him let me go.
“Now, then,” he cried, “out wi’ that there money.” For answer, I foolishly showed him where it was by clapping my hand upon my pocket, when, with a grin of satisfaction, he tore my hand away, thrust in his great fingers, and dragged it out, spat on the various coins, and thrust them in his own pocket.
“What d’yer say?” he cried, bending down again towards me.
“The police shall make you give that up,” I panted.
“Says we’re to spend this here in beer, mates,” he said, grinning, while the woman stood with her eyes half shut and her arms folded, looking on.
The two men at the door laughed.
“Now, then,” said the big fellow, “since he’s come out genteel-like with his money, I don’t think I’ll give him the knife this time. Get up with yer, and be off while your shoes are good.”
He took his great boot off my chest, and I started up.
“I wouldn’t give much for yer,” he growled, “if yer showed yer face here agen.”
He accompanied this with such a menacing look that I involuntarily shrank away, but recovering myself directly I seized the coil of rope and made for the door.
“What!” roared the great ruffian, snatching the rope, and, as I held on to it, dragging me back. “Trying to steal, are you?”
“It’s mine—it’s ours,” I cried passionately.
“Oh! I’ll soon let yer know about that,” he cried. “Look here, mates; this is our rope, ain’t it?”
“Yes,” said one of them: “I’ll swear to it.”
“It’s mine,” I cried, tugging at it angrily.
“Let go, will yer—d’yer hear; let go.”
He tugged and snatched at it savagely, and just then the boy leaped upon me, butting at me, and striking with all his might, infuriating me so by his cowardly attack, that, holding on to the rope with one hand, I swung round my doubled fist with the other and struck him with all my might.
It must have been a heavy blow right in the face, for he staggered back, caught against a chair, and then fell with a crash, howling dismally.
“Look at that, now,” cried the big ruffian. “Now he shall have it.”
“Serves him right!” said the woman passionately.
“Let the boy go, Ned, or you’ll get into trouble.”
“I’ll get into trouble for something then,” cried the fellow savagely, as he hurt me terribly by jerking the rope out of my hand and catching me by the collar, when I saw the two men at the open door look round, and I heard a familiar growl on the stairs that made my heart leap with joy.
“Ike!—Here!—Ike!” I shouted with all my might.
“Hold yer row,” hissed the great ruffian in a hoarse whisper, and clapping one hand behind my head he placed the other upon my mouth.
He dragged me round, half-choked and helpless, and then he said something over his shoulder to the woman, while I fought and struggled, and tried hard to shout again to Ike, whose heavy feet I could hear in the midst of a good deal of altercation on the stairs.
As I struggled to get free I saw that the window was opened and the rope thrown out. Then the window was quickly shut, and I was dragged towards the door.
“Here, you be off outer this,” whispered the great ruffian, with his lips close to my ear. “You cut; and don’t you—”
He stopped short, holding me tightly, and seemed to hesitate, his eyes glaring round as if in search of some place where he could hide me, not knowing what to do for the best.
“Shut the door, mates,” he said quickly; and the two men dragged the door to after them as they stood outside.
“Just you make half a sound, and—”
He put his lips close to my ear as he said this, and closed the great clasp-knife with a sharp click which made me start; while his eyes seemed to fascinate me as he bent down and glared at me.
It was only for a moment, though, and then I managed to slip my face aside and shouted aloud:
“Ike!”
There was a rush and a scuffle outside, and the woman said in an ill-used tone:
“I told yer how it would be.”
“You hold—”
He did not finish, for just then one of the men outside growled—plainly heard through the thin door:
“Now, then, where are yer shovin’ to?”
“In here,” roared a voice that sent a thrill of joy through me.
“Now, then, what d’yer want?” cried the big fellow, thrusting me behind him as Ike kicked open the door and strode into the room.
“What do I want?” he roared. “I want him and our cart-rope. Now, then, where is it?”
There was a fierce muttering among the men, and they drew together while the boy and the woman cowered into one corner of the attic.
“Oh! you’re not going to scare me,” cried Ike fiercely. “There’s the police just at hand if I wants help. Now then, where’s that rope?”
“What rope?” growled the ruffian. “I don’t know about no ropes.”
“They threw it out of the window, Ike,” I cried.
“That’s a lie,” snarled the man. “There ain’t never been no ropes here.”
“There has been one,” I cried, feeling bold now; “but they threw it out of the window.”
“Well, of all—” began one of the men, who had crossed the room with his companion to the big ruffian’s side.
“You go on down, my lad,” whispered Ike in a low deep voice. “Go on, now.”
“But are you coming?” I whispered back.
“You may depend on that,” he said, as if to himself, “if they’ll let me. Go on.”
I moved towards the open door, when one of the men made a dash to stop me; but Ike threw put one leg, and he fell sprawling. At the same moment my enemy made a rush at Ike, who stepped back, and then I saw his great fist fly out straight. There was a dull, heavy sound, and the big ruffian stopped short, reeled, and then dropped down upon his hands and knees.
“Quick, boy, quick! You go first,” whispered Ike, as I stopped as if paralysed; “I’ll foller.”
His words roused me, and I ran out of the room.
Chapter Seventeen.What Became of the Rope.I nearly fell headlong down as I reached the stairs, for my foot went through a hole in the boards, but I recovered myself and began to run down as fast as I dared, on account of the rickety state of the steps, while Ike came clumping down after me, and we could hear the big ruffian’s voice saying something loudly as we hurried from flight to flight.There were knots of women on the different landings and at the bottom of the stairs, and they were all talking excitedly; but only to cease and look curiously at us as we went by.There was quite a crowd, too, of men, women, and children in the court below as we left the doorway; but Ike’s bold manner and the decided way in which he strode out with me, looking sharply from one to the other, put a stop to all opposition, even if it had been intended.There were plenty of scowling, menacing looks, and there was a little hooting from the men, but they gave way, and in another minute we were out of the court and in the dirty street, with a troop of children following us and the people on either side looking on.“But, Ike,” I said in a despairing tone, “we haven’t got the rope after all.”“No,” he said; “but I’ve got you out o’ that place safe, and I haven’t got much hurt myself, and that’s saying a deal. Talk about savages and wild beasts abroad! why, they’re nothing.”“I didn’t see any policemen, Ike,” I said, as I thought of their power.“More didn’t I,” he replied with a grim smile. “They don’t care much about going down these sort o’ places; no more don’t I. We’re well out of that job, my lad. You didn’t ought to have gone.”“But that boy was running off with the best cart rope, Ike,” I said despondently, “and I was trying to get it back, and now it’s gone. What will Mr Brownsmith say?”“Old Brownsmith won’t say never a word,” said Ike, as we trudged on along a more respectable street.“Oh, but he will,” I cried. “He is so particular about the ropes.”“So he be, my lad. Here, let’s brush you down; you’re a bit dirty.”“But he will,” I said, as I submitted to the operation.“Not he,” said Ike. “Them police is in the right of it. I’m all of a shiver, now that bit of a burst’s over;” and he wiped his brow.“You are, Ike?” I said wonderingly.“To be sure I am, my lad. I was all right there, and ready to fight; but now it’s over and we’re well out of it, I feel just as I did when the cart tipped up and all the baskets come down atop of you.”“I am glad you feel like that,” I said.“Why?” he cried sharply.“Because it makes me feel that I was not such a terrible coward after all.”“But you were,” he said, giving me a curious look. “Oh, yes: about as big a coward as ever I see.”I did not understand why I was so very great a coward, but he did not explain, and I trudged on by him.“I say, what would you have done if I hadn’t come?”“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose they would have let me go at last. They got all my money.”“They did?”“Yes,” I said dolefully; “and then there’s the rope. What will Mr Brownsmith say?”“Nothin’ at all,” said Ike.“But he will,” I cried again.“No he won’t, because we’ll buy a new one ’fore we goes back.”“I thought of that,” I said, “but I’ve no money now.”“Oh, all right! I have,” he said. “We may think ourselves well out of a bad mess, my lad; and I don’t know as we oughtn’t to go to the police, but we haven’t no time for that. There’ll be another load o’ strawb’ys ready by the time we get back, and I shall have to come up again to-night. Strawb’ys sold well to-day. No: we’ve no time for the police.”“They deserve to be taken up,” I said.“Ay, they do, my boy; but folks don’t get all they deserve.”“Or I should be punished for letting that boy steal the rope.”“Hang the rope!” he said crustily. “I mean, hang the boy or his father, and that’s what some of ’em’ll come to,” he cried grimly, “if they don’t mind. They’re a bad lot down that court. Lor’ a mussy me! I’d sooner live in one of our sheds on some straw, with a sack for a pillow, than be shut up along o’ these folk in them courts.”“But they wouldn’t have hurt me, Ike?” I said.“I dunno, my lad. P’r’aps they would, p’r’aps they wouldn’t. They might have kept you and made a bad un of yer. Frightened you into it like.”I shook my head.“Ah! you don’t know, my lad. How much did they get?”“Two shillings and ninepence halfpenny,” I said dolefully.“And a nearly new rope. Ah, it’s a bad morning’s work for your first journey.”“It is, Ike,” I said; “but I didn’t know any better. How did you know where I was?”“How did I know? Why, Shock saw you and followed you, and come back and fetched me, when I was staring at the cart and wondering what had gone of you two.”“Where is he now?” I asked.“What, Shock? Oh, I don’t know. He’s a queer chap. P’r’aps they’ve got him instead of you.”I stopped short and looked at him, but saw directly that he was only joking, and went on again:“You don’t think that,” I said quickly; “for if you did you would not have come away. Do you think he has gone back to the cart?”“Oh, there’s no knowing,” he replied. “P’r’aps when we get back there won’t be any cart; some one will have run away with it. They’re rum uns here in London.”“Why, you haven’t left the cart alone, Ike,” I cried.“That’s a good one, that is,” he exclaimed. “You haven’t left the cart alone! Why, you and Shock did.”“Yes,” I said; “but—”“There, come and let’s see,” he said gruffly. “We should look well, we two, going back home without a cart, and old Bonyparty took away and cut up for goodness knows what and his skin made into leather. Come along.”We walked quickly, for it seemed as if this was going to be a day all misfortunes; but as we reached the market again I found that Ike had not left the cart untended, for a man was there by the horse, and the big whip curved over in safety from where it was stuck.“Seen anything of our other boy?” said Ike as we reached the cart.“No,” was the reply.“Hadn’t we better go back and look for him?” I said anxiously.“Well, I don’t know,” said Ike, rubbing one ear; “he ain’t so much consequence as you.”“I’ve been to Paris and I’ve been to Do-ho-ver.”“Why, there he is,” I cried; and, climbing up the wheel, there lay Shock on his back right on the top of the baskets, and as soon as he saw my face he grinned and then turned his back.“He’s all right,” I said as I descended; and just then there was a creaking noise among the baskets, and Shock’s head appeared over the edge.“Here y’are,” he cried. “That there tumbled out o’ window, and I ketched it and brought it here.”As he spoke he threw down the coil of nearly new rope, and I felt so delighted that I could have gone up to him and shaken hands.“Well, that’s a good un, that is,” said Ike with a chuckle. “I am ’bout fine and glad o’ that.”He took the rope and tied it up to the ladder again, and then turned to me.“Come along and get some breakfast, my lad,” he said. “I dessay you’re fine and hungry.”“But how about Shock?”“Oh, we’ll send him out some. Here, you, Shock, look after the cart and horse. Don’t you leave ’em,” Ike added to the man; and then we made our way to a coffee-house, where Ike’s first act, to my great satisfaction, was to procure a great mug of coffee and a couple of rolls, which he opened as if they had been oysters, dabbed a lump of butter in each, and then put under his arm.“He don’t deserve ’em,” he growled, “for coming; but he did show me where you was.”“And he saved the rope,” I said.Ike nodded.“You sit down till I come back, my lad,” he said; and then he went off, to return in a few minutes to face me at a table where we were regaled with steaming coffee and grilled haddocks.“This is the best part of the coming to market, my lad,” he said, “only it’s a mistake.”“What is?” I asked.“Haddocks, my lad. They’re a trickier kind o’ meat than bloaters. I ordered this here for us ’cause it seemed more respectable like, as I’d got company, than herrin’; but it’s a mistake.”“But this is very nice,” I said, beginning very hungrily upon the hot roll and fish, but with a qualm in my mind as to how it was to be paid for.“Ye–es,” said Ike, after saying “soup” very loudly as he took a long sip of his coffee; “tidyish, my lad, tidyish, but you see one gets eddicated to a herring, and knows exactly where every bone will be. These things seems as if the bones is all nowhere and yet they’re everywhere all the time, and so sure as you feel safe and take a bite you find a sharp pynte, just like a trap laid o’ purpose to ketch yer.”“Well, there are a good many little bones, certainly,” I said.“Good many! Thick as slugs after a shower. There’s one again, sharp as a needle. Wish I’d a red herrin’, that I do.”“I say, Ike,” I said suddenly, as I was in the middle of my breakfast, “I wish I could make haste and grow into a man.”“Do you, now?” he said with a derisive laugh. “Ah! I shouldn’t wonder. If you’d been a man I s’pose you’d have pitched all those rough uns out o’ window, eh?”“I should have liked to be able to take care of myself,” I said.“Without old Ike, eh, my lad?”“I don’t mean that,” I said; “only I should like to be a man.”“Instead o’ being very glad you’re a boy with everything fresh and bright about you. Red cheeks and clean skin and all your teeth, and all the time to come before you, instead of having to look back and think you’re like an old spade—most wore out.”“Oh, but you’re so strong, Ike! I should like to be a man.”“Like to be a boy, my lad, and thank God you are one,” said old Ike, speaking as I had never heard him speak before. “It’s natur’, I s’pose. All boys wishes they was men, and when they’re men they look back on that happiest time of their lives when they was boys and wishes it could come over again.”“Do they, Ike?” I said.“I never knew a man who didn’t,” said Ike, making the cups dance on the table by giving it a thump with his fist. “Why, Master Grant, I was kicked about and hit when I was a boy more’n ever a boy was before, but all that time seems bright and sunshiny to me.”“But do you think Shock’s happy?” I said; “he’s a boy, and has no one to care about him.”“Happy! I should just think he is. All boys has troubles that they feels bad at the time, but take ’em altogether they’re as happy as can be. Shock’s happy enough his way or he wouldn’t have been singing all night atop of the load. There, you’re a boy, and just you be thankful that you are, my lad; being a boy’s about as good a thing as there is.”We had nearly finished our breakfast when Ike turned on me sharply.“Why, you don’t look as if you was glad to be a boy,” he said.“I was thinking about what Mr Brownsmith will say when he knows I’ve been in such trouble,” I replied.“Ah, he won’t like it! But I suppose you ain’t going to tell him?”“Yes,” I said, “I shall tell him.”Ike remained silent for a few minutes, and sat slowly filling his pipe.At last, as we rose to go, after Ike had paid the waitress, he said to me slowly:“Sometimes doing right ain’t pleasant and doing wrong is. It’s quite right to go and tell Old Brownsmith and get blowed up, and it would be quite wrong not to tell him, but much the nystest. Howsoever, you tell him as soon as we get back. He can’t kill yer for that, and I don’t s’pose he’ll knock yer down with the kitchen poker and then kick you out. You’ve got to risk it.”I did tell Old Brownsmith all my trouble when we reached home, and he listened attentively and nodding his head sometimes. Then he said softly, “Ah!” and that was all.But I heard him scold Master Shock tremendously for going off from his work without leave.Shock had been looking on from a distance while I was telling Old Brownsmith, and this put it into his head, I suppose, that I had been speaking against him, for during the next month he turned his back whenever he met me, and every now and then, if I looked up suddenly, it was to see him shaking his fist at me, while his hair seemed to stand up more fiercely than ever out of his crownless straw hat like young rhubarb thrusting up the lid from the forcing-pot put on to draw the stalks.
I nearly fell headlong down as I reached the stairs, for my foot went through a hole in the boards, but I recovered myself and began to run down as fast as I dared, on account of the rickety state of the steps, while Ike came clumping down after me, and we could hear the big ruffian’s voice saying something loudly as we hurried from flight to flight.
There were knots of women on the different landings and at the bottom of the stairs, and they were all talking excitedly; but only to cease and look curiously at us as we went by.
There was quite a crowd, too, of men, women, and children in the court below as we left the doorway; but Ike’s bold manner and the decided way in which he strode out with me, looking sharply from one to the other, put a stop to all opposition, even if it had been intended.
There were plenty of scowling, menacing looks, and there was a little hooting from the men, but they gave way, and in another minute we were out of the court and in the dirty street, with a troop of children following us and the people on either side looking on.
“But, Ike,” I said in a despairing tone, “we haven’t got the rope after all.”
“No,” he said; “but I’ve got you out o’ that place safe, and I haven’t got much hurt myself, and that’s saying a deal. Talk about savages and wild beasts abroad! why, they’re nothing.”
“I didn’t see any policemen, Ike,” I said, as I thought of their power.
“More didn’t I,” he replied with a grim smile. “They don’t care much about going down these sort o’ places; no more don’t I. We’re well out of that job, my lad. You didn’t ought to have gone.”
“But that boy was running off with the best cart rope, Ike,” I said despondently, “and I was trying to get it back, and now it’s gone. What will Mr Brownsmith say?”
“Old Brownsmith won’t say never a word,” said Ike, as we trudged on along a more respectable street.
“Oh, but he will,” I cried. “He is so particular about the ropes.”
“So he be, my lad. Here, let’s brush you down; you’re a bit dirty.”
“But he will,” I said, as I submitted to the operation.
“Not he,” said Ike. “Them police is in the right of it. I’m all of a shiver, now that bit of a burst’s over;” and he wiped his brow.
“You are, Ike?” I said wonderingly.
“To be sure I am, my lad. I was all right there, and ready to fight; but now it’s over and we’re well out of it, I feel just as I did when the cart tipped up and all the baskets come down atop of you.”
“I am glad you feel like that,” I said.
“Why?” he cried sharply.
“Because it makes me feel that I was not such a terrible coward after all.”
“But you were,” he said, giving me a curious look. “Oh, yes: about as big a coward as ever I see.”
I did not understand why I was so very great a coward, but he did not explain, and I trudged on by him.
“I say, what would you have done if I hadn’t come?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose they would have let me go at last. They got all my money.”
“They did?”
“Yes,” I said dolefully; “and then there’s the rope. What will Mr Brownsmith say?”
“Nothin’ at all,” said Ike.
“But he will,” I cried again.
“No he won’t, because we’ll buy a new one ’fore we goes back.”
“I thought of that,” I said, “but I’ve no money now.”
“Oh, all right! I have,” he said. “We may think ourselves well out of a bad mess, my lad; and I don’t know as we oughtn’t to go to the police, but we haven’t no time for that. There’ll be another load o’ strawb’ys ready by the time we get back, and I shall have to come up again to-night. Strawb’ys sold well to-day. No: we’ve no time for the police.”
“They deserve to be taken up,” I said.
“Ay, they do, my boy; but folks don’t get all they deserve.”
“Or I should be punished for letting that boy steal the rope.”
“Hang the rope!” he said crustily. “I mean, hang the boy or his father, and that’s what some of ’em’ll come to,” he cried grimly, “if they don’t mind. They’re a bad lot down that court. Lor’ a mussy me! I’d sooner live in one of our sheds on some straw, with a sack for a pillow, than be shut up along o’ these folk in them courts.”
“But they wouldn’t have hurt me, Ike?” I said.
“I dunno, my lad. P’r’aps they would, p’r’aps they wouldn’t. They might have kept you and made a bad un of yer. Frightened you into it like.”
I shook my head.
“Ah! you don’t know, my lad. How much did they get?”
“Two shillings and ninepence halfpenny,” I said dolefully.
“And a nearly new rope. Ah, it’s a bad morning’s work for your first journey.”
“It is, Ike,” I said; “but I didn’t know any better. How did you know where I was?”
“How did I know? Why, Shock saw you and followed you, and come back and fetched me, when I was staring at the cart and wondering what had gone of you two.”
“Where is he now?” I asked.
“What, Shock? Oh, I don’t know. He’s a queer chap. P’r’aps they’ve got him instead of you.”
I stopped short and looked at him, but saw directly that he was only joking, and went on again:
“You don’t think that,” I said quickly; “for if you did you would not have come away. Do you think he has gone back to the cart?”
“Oh, there’s no knowing,” he replied. “P’r’aps when we get back there won’t be any cart; some one will have run away with it. They’re rum uns here in London.”
“Why, you haven’t left the cart alone, Ike,” I cried.
“That’s a good one, that is,” he exclaimed. “You haven’t left the cart alone! Why, you and Shock did.”
“Yes,” I said; “but—”
“There, come and let’s see,” he said gruffly. “We should look well, we two, going back home without a cart, and old Bonyparty took away and cut up for goodness knows what and his skin made into leather. Come along.”
We walked quickly, for it seemed as if this was going to be a day all misfortunes; but as we reached the market again I found that Ike had not left the cart untended, for a man was there by the horse, and the big whip curved over in safety from where it was stuck.
“Seen anything of our other boy?” said Ike as we reached the cart.
“No,” was the reply.
“Hadn’t we better go back and look for him?” I said anxiously.
“Well, I don’t know,” said Ike, rubbing one ear; “he ain’t so much consequence as you.”
“I’ve been to Paris and I’ve been to Do-ho-ver.”
“Why, there he is,” I cried; and, climbing up the wheel, there lay Shock on his back right on the top of the baskets, and as soon as he saw my face he grinned and then turned his back.
“He’s all right,” I said as I descended; and just then there was a creaking noise among the baskets, and Shock’s head appeared over the edge.
“Here y’are,” he cried. “That there tumbled out o’ window, and I ketched it and brought it here.”
As he spoke he threw down the coil of nearly new rope, and I felt so delighted that I could have gone up to him and shaken hands.
“Well, that’s a good un, that is,” said Ike with a chuckle. “I am ’bout fine and glad o’ that.”
He took the rope and tied it up to the ladder again, and then turned to me.
“Come along and get some breakfast, my lad,” he said. “I dessay you’re fine and hungry.”
“But how about Shock?”
“Oh, we’ll send him out some. Here, you, Shock, look after the cart and horse. Don’t you leave ’em,” Ike added to the man; and then we made our way to a coffee-house, where Ike’s first act, to my great satisfaction, was to procure a great mug of coffee and a couple of rolls, which he opened as if they had been oysters, dabbed a lump of butter in each, and then put under his arm.
“He don’t deserve ’em,” he growled, “for coming; but he did show me where you was.”
“And he saved the rope,” I said.
Ike nodded.
“You sit down till I come back, my lad,” he said; and then he went off, to return in a few minutes to face me at a table where we were regaled with steaming coffee and grilled haddocks.
“This is the best part of the coming to market, my lad,” he said, “only it’s a mistake.”
“What is?” I asked.
“Haddocks, my lad. They’re a trickier kind o’ meat than bloaters. I ordered this here for us ’cause it seemed more respectable like, as I’d got company, than herrin’; but it’s a mistake.”
“But this is very nice,” I said, beginning very hungrily upon the hot roll and fish, but with a qualm in my mind as to how it was to be paid for.
“Ye–es,” said Ike, after saying “soup” very loudly as he took a long sip of his coffee; “tidyish, my lad, tidyish, but you see one gets eddicated to a herring, and knows exactly where every bone will be. These things seems as if the bones is all nowhere and yet they’re everywhere all the time, and so sure as you feel safe and take a bite you find a sharp pynte, just like a trap laid o’ purpose to ketch yer.”
“Well, there are a good many little bones, certainly,” I said.
“Good many! Thick as slugs after a shower. There’s one again, sharp as a needle. Wish I’d a red herrin’, that I do.”
“I say, Ike,” I said suddenly, as I was in the middle of my breakfast, “I wish I could make haste and grow into a man.”
“Do you, now?” he said with a derisive laugh. “Ah! I shouldn’t wonder. If you’d been a man I s’pose you’d have pitched all those rough uns out o’ window, eh?”
“I should have liked to be able to take care of myself,” I said.
“Without old Ike, eh, my lad?”
“I don’t mean that,” I said; “only I should like to be a man.”
“Instead o’ being very glad you’re a boy with everything fresh and bright about you. Red cheeks and clean skin and all your teeth, and all the time to come before you, instead of having to look back and think you’re like an old spade—most wore out.”
“Oh, but you’re so strong, Ike! I should like to be a man.”
“Like to be a boy, my lad, and thank God you are one,” said old Ike, speaking as I had never heard him speak before. “It’s natur’, I s’pose. All boys wishes they was men, and when they’re men they look back on that happiest time of their lives when they was boys and wishes it could come over again.”
“Do they, Ike?” I said.
“I never knew a man who didn’t,” said Ike, making the cups dance on the table by giving it a thump with his fist. “Why, Master Grant, I was kicked about and hit when I was a boy more’n ever a boy was before, but all that time seems bright and sunshiny to me.”
“But do you think Shock’s happy?” I said; “he’s a boy, and has no one to care about him.”
“Happy! I should just think he is. All boys has troubles that they feels bad at the time, but take ’em altogether they’re as happy as can be. Shock’s happy enough his way or he wouldn’t have been singing all night atop of the load. There, you’re a boy, and just you be thankful that you are, my lad; being a boy’s about as good a thing as there is.”
We had nearly finished our breakfast when Ike turned on me sharply.
“Why, you don’t look as if you was glad to be a boy,” he said.
“I was thinking about what Mr Brownsmith will say when he knows I’ve been in such trouble,” I replied.
“Ah, he won’t like it! But I suppose you ain’t going to tell him?”
“Yes,” I said, “I shall tell him.”
Ike remained silent for a few minutes, and sat slowly filling his pipe.
At last, as we rose to go, after Ike had paid the waitress, he said to me slowly:
“Sometimes doing right ain’t pleasant and doing wrong is. It’s quite right to go and tell Old Brownsmith and get blowed up, and it would be quite wrong not to tell him, but much the nystest. Howsoever, you tell him as soon as we get back. He can’t kill yer for that, and I don’t s’pose he’ll knock yer down with the kitchen poker and then kick you out. You’ve got to risk it.”
I did tell Old Brownsmith all my trouble when we reached home, and he listened attentively and nodding his head sometimes. Then he said softly, “Ah!” and that was all.
But I heard him scold Master Shock tremendously for going off from his work without leave.
Shock had been looking on from a distance while I was telling Old Brownsmith, and this put it into his head, I suppose, that I had been speaking against him, for during the next month he turned his back whenever he met me, and every now and then, if I looked up suddenly, it was to see him shaking his fist at me, while his hair seemed to stand up more fiercely than ever out of his crownless straw hat like young rhubarb thrusting up the lid from the forcing-pot put on to draw the stalks.