"'You might wonder how a barge could waste twenty-four or forty-eight hours without being called to account by its owners, but there are barges which will anchor up for two or three days under the pretense that the weather is bad, but really from sheer laziness.
"'That is one way the stuff comes into the country, and, so far as I can see, there is no way whatever of stopping it. The difficulty, of course, is with the landing, and even that is not great. When the tide turns to run out there are scores, I may say hundreds, of barges anchored between Chatham and Gravesend. They generally anchor close in shore, and it would require twenty times the number of coastguards there are between Chatham and Gravesend on one side, and Foulness and Tilbury on the other, to watch the whole of them and to see that boats do not come ashore.
"'A few strokes and they are there. One man will wait in the boat while the other goes up onto the bank to see that all is clear. If it is, the things are carried up at once. Probably the barge has put up some flag that is understood by friends ashore; they are there to meet it, and in half an hour the kegs are either stowed away in lonely farmhouses or sunk in some of the deep ditches, and there they will remain until they can be fished up and sent off in a cart loaded with hay or something of that sort. You may take it that among the marshes on the banks of the Medway and Thames there is a pretty good deal done in the way of smuggling still. We keep a very close eye upon all the barges that come up here, but it is very seldom that we make any catch. One cannot seize a barge like theMary Ann, that is the boat belonging to Nibson, with perhaps sixty tons of manure orcement or bricks, and unload it without some specific information that would justify our doing so. Indeed, we hardly could unload it unless we took it out into the Thames and threw the contents overboard. We could not carry it up this steep, stone-faced bank, and higher up there are very few places where a barge could lie alongside the bank to be unloaded. We suspect Nibson of doing something that way, but we have never been able to catch him at it. We have searched his place suddenly three or four times, but never found anything suspicious.'
"'May I ask what family the man has?' I said.
"He shook his head. 'There is his wife—I have seen her once or twice on board the barge as it has come in and out—and there is a boy, who helps him on the barge—I don't know whether he is his son or not. I have no idea whether he has any family, but I have never seen a child on the barge.'
"All this seemed to be fairly satisfactory. I told him that we suspected that a stolen child was kept in Nibson's house, and asked him whether one of his men off duty would, at any time, go with me in a boat and point out the house. He said that there would be no difficulty about that. My idea, Miss Covington, was that it would be by far the best plan for us to go down with a pretty strong party—that is to say, two or three men—and to go from Gravesend in a boat, arriving at Hole Haven at eleven or twelve o'clock at night. I should write beforehand to the coastguard officer, asking him to have a man in readiness to guide us, and then row up to the house. In that way we should avoid all chance of a warning being sent on ahead from Pitsea, or from any other place where they might have men on watch.
"I mentioned this to the officer, and he said, 'Well, I don't see how you could break into the man's house. If the child is not there you might find yourself in a very awkward position, and if Nibson himself happened to be at home he would be perfectly justified in using firearms.' I said of course that was a point I mustconsider. It is indeed a point on which we must take Mr. Pettigrew's opinion. But probably we shall have to lay an information before the nearest magistrate, though I think myself that if we were to take the officer into our confidence—and he seemed to me a bluff, hearty fellow—he would take a lot of interest in the matter, and might stretch a point, and send three or four men down after dark to search the place again for smuggled goods. You see, he has strong suspicions of the man, and has searched his place more than once. Then, when they were about it, we could enter and seize Walter. Should there be a mistake altogether, and the child not be found there, we could give the officer a written undertaking to hold him free in the very unlikely event of the fellow making a fuss about his house being entered."
The next morning Hilda again drove up with Netta to see Mr. Pettigrew.
"We must be careful, my dear; we must be very careful," he said. "If we obtain a search warrant, it can only be executed during the day, and even if the coastguards were to make a raid upon the place, we, as civilians, would not have any right to enter the house. I don't like the idea of this night business—indeed, I do not see why it should not be managed by day. Apparently, from what Dr. Leeds said, this Hole Haven is a place where little sailing-boats often go in. I don't know much of these matters, but probably in some cases gentlemen are accompanied by ladies, and no doubt sometimes these boats go up the creeks. Now, there must be good-sized boats that could be hired at Gravesend, with men accustomed to sailing them, and I can see no reason why we should not go down in a party. I should certainly wish to be there myself, and think Colonel Bulstrode should be there. You might bring your two men, and get an information laid before an Essex magistrate and obtain a warrant to search this man's place for a child supposed to be hidden there. By the way, I have a client who is an Essex magistrate; he lives near Billericay. I will have an information drawn out, and will go myselfwith it and see him; it is only about five miles to drive from Brentwood Station. If I sent a clerk down, there might be some difficulty, whereas, when I personally explain the circumstances to him, he will, I am sure, grant it. At the same time I will arrange with him that two of the county constabulary shall be at this place, Hole Haven, at the time we arrive there, and shall accompany us to execute the warrant. Let me see," and he turned to his engagement book, "there is no very special matter on for to-morrow, and I am sure that Mr. Farmer will see to the little matters that there are in my department. By the way, it was a year yesterday since the General's death, and we have this morning been served with a notice to show cause why we should not proceed at once to distribute the various legacies under his will. I don't think that refers to the bequest of the estates, though, of course, it may do so, but to the ten thousand pounds to which Simcoe is clearly entitled. Of course, we should appear by counsel in any case; but with Walter in our hands we can bring him to his knees at once, and he will have to wait some time before he touches the money. We cannot prevent his having that. He may get five years for abducting the child, but that does not affect his claim to the money."
"Unless, Mr. Pettigrew, we could prove that he is not John Simcoe."
"Certainly, my dear," the lawyer said, with an indulgent smile. "Your other theories have turned out very successful, I am bound to admit; but for this you have not a shadow of evidence, while he could produce a dozen respectable witnesses in his favor. However, we need not trouble ourselves about that now. As to the abduction of the child, while our evidence is pretty clear against the other man, we have only the fact against Simcoe that he was a constant associate of his, and had an immense interest in the child being lost. The other man seems to have acted as his intermediary all through, and so far as we actually know, Simcoe has never seen the child since he was taken away. Of course, if Walter can proveto the contrary, the case is clear against him; but without this it is only circumstantial, though I fancy that the jury would be pretty sure to convict. And now, how about the boat? Who will undertake that? We are rather busy at present, and could scarcely spare a clerk to go down."
"We will look after that, Mr. Pettigrew; it is only an hour's run to Gravesend, and it will be an amusement for us. We will take Roberts down with us. What day shall we fix it for?"
"Well, my dear, the sooner the better. I shall get the warrant to-morrow, and there is no reason why the constable should not be at Hole Haven the next day, at, say, two in the afternoon. So if you go down to-morrow and arrange for a boat, the matter may as well be carried out at once, especially as I know that you are burning with anxiety to get the child back. Of course this rascal of a bargeman must be arrested."
"I should think that would depend partly on how he has treated Walter," Hilda said. "I don't suppose he knows who he is, or anything of the circumstances of the case; he is simply paid so much to take charge of him. If he has behaved cruelly to him it is of course right that he should be punished; but if he has been kind to him I don't see why he should not be let off. Besides, we may want him as a witness against the others."
"Well, there is something in that. Of course we might, if he were arrested, allow him to turn Queen's evidence, but there is always a certain feeling against this class of witness. However, we needn't discuss that now. I suppose that we ought to allow an hour and a half or two hours to get to this place from Gravesend, but you can find that out when you hire the boat. Of course, it will depend a good deal on which way the tide is. By the way, you had better look to that at once; for if it is not somewhere near high tide when we get to Hole Haven there may not be water enough to row up the creek."
He called in one of the clerks, and told him to go out to get him an almanac with a tide-table.
"I want to know when it will be high water the day after to-morrow at Gravesend," he said.
"I can tell you that at once, sir. When I came across Waterloo Bridge this morning at a quarter to nine the tide was running in. I should say that it was about half-flood, and would be high about twelve o'clock. So that it will be high about half-past one o'clock on Wednesday. It is about three-quarters of an hour earlier at Gravesend. I don't know whether that is near enough for you, sir?"
"Yes, that is near enough, thank you. So, you see," he went on after the clerk had left the room, "the tide will be just about high when you get to Gravesend, and you will get there in about an hour, I should say. I don't know exactly how far this place is, but I should say seven or eight miles; and with a sail, or, if the wind is contrary, a couple of oars, you will not be much above an hour, and I should think that there will be still plenty of water in the creek. You had better see Colonel Bulstrode. As joint trustee he should certainly be there."
They drove at once to the Colonel's and found him in. He had not heard of the discovery Hilda had made, and was greatly excited at the prospect of so soon recovering Walter, and bringing, as he said, "the rascals to book."
The next morning they went down with Roberts to Gravesend, to engage a large and roomy boat with two watermen for their trip. Just as they were entering Hyde Park Gardens, on their return, a man passed them. Roberts looked hard at him, and then said, "If you don't want me any more now, miss, I should like to speak to that man; he is an old fellow-soldier."
"Certainly, Roberts. I shall not want you again for some time."
Roberts hurried after the man. "Sergeant Nichol," he said, as he came up to him, "it is years since I saw you last."
"I remember your face, if I do not remember your name," the man said.
"I am Tom Roberts. I was in your company, you know, before you went onto the staff."
"I remember you now, Roberts," and the two shook hands heartily. "What are you doing now? If I remember right, you went as servant to General Mathieson when you got your discharge."
"Yes; you see, I had been his orderly for two or three years before, and when I got my discharge with my pension, I told him that I should like to stop with him if he would take me. I was with him out there for five years after; then I came home, and was with him until his death, and am still in the service of his niece, Miss Covington, one of the young ladies I was with just now. And what are you doing?"
"I am collector for a firm in the City. It is an easy berth, and with my pension I am as comfortable as a man can wish to be."
So they chatted for half an hour, and when they parted Roberts received a hearty invitation to look in at the other's place at Kilburn.
"Both my boys are in the army," he said, "and likely to get on well. My eldest girl is married, my youngest is at home with her mother and myself; they will be pleased to see you too. The missus enjoys a gossip about India, and is always glad to welcome any old comrade of mine."
The wind was westerly, and the boat ran fast down the river from Gravesend; Roberts and Andrew, both in civilian clothes, were sitting in the bows, where there were stowed a large hamper and a small traveling-bag with some clothes. One waterman sat by the mast, in case it should be necessary to lower sail; the other was aft at the tiller. The men must have thought that they had never had so silent and grave a pleasure party before: two elderly gentlemen and two girls, none of whom seemed inclined to make merry in any way. Colonel Bulstrode, indeed, tried hard to keep up a conversation about the ships, barges, and other craft that they met, or which lay at anchor in the stream, and recalling reminiscences of trips on Indian rivers.
Netta was the only one of his hearers who apparently took any interest in the talk. To her the scene was so new that she regarded everything with attention and pleasure, and looked with wonder at the great ships which were dragged along by tiny tugs, wondered at the rate at which the clumsy-looking barges made their way through the water, and enjoyed the rapid and easy motion with which their own boat glided along. Mr. Pettigrew was revolving in his mind the problem of what should next be done; while Hilda's thoughts were centered upon Walter, and the joy that it would be to have him with her again.
"This is Hole Haven," the boatman in the stern said, as a wide sheet of water opened on their left.
"Why don't you turn in, then?" Colonel Bulstrode asked.
"There is scarce water enough for us, sir; they areneap tides at present, and in half an hour the sands will begin to show all over there. We have to go in onto the farther side—that is, where the channel is. You see those craft at anchor; there is the landing, just in front of the low roof you see over the bank. That is the 'Lobster Smack,' and a very comfortable house it is; and you can get as good a glass of beer there as anywhere on the river."
As they turned into the creek they saw two constables on the top of the bank, and at the head of the steps stood a gentleman talking with a coastguard officer.
"That is my friend, Mr. Bostock," Mr. Pettigrew said. "He told me that, if he could manage it, he would drive over himself with the two constables. I am glad that he has been able to do so; his presence will strengthen our hands."
A coast guard boat, with four sailors in it, was lying close to the steps, and the officer came down with Mr. Bostock, followed by the two constables. The magistrate greeted Mr. Pettigrew and took his place in the boat beside him, after being introduced to the two ladies and the Colonel. The officer with the two constables stepped into the coastguard boat, which rowed on ahead of the other.
"I could not resist the temptation of coming over to see the end of this singular affair, of which I heard from Mr. Pettigrew," Mr. Bostock said to Hilda. "The officer of the coastguard is going on, partly to show us the way to the house, and partly because it will be a good opportunity for him to search the place thoroughly for smuggled goods. He tells me that the barge is up the creek now; it went up yesterday evening. So we may find the fellow at home."
"Now, my men," Colonel Bulstrode said to the boatmen, "we have got to follow that boat. You will have plenty of time for beer when you get there, and a good lunch besides. So pull your hardest; we have not got very far to go. Can either of you men row?"
"I can pull a bit," Roberts said, and, aided by thesail and the three oars, the boat went along at a fair rate through the water, the coastguard boat keeping a short distance ahead of them. After a quarter of an hour's rowing the bargeman's house came in view. The revenue officer pointed to it.
"Now, row your hardest, men," Colonel Bulstrode said; "we have but a hundred yards further to go."
The two boats rowed up to the bank together; Mr. Bostock sprang out, as did the constables and sailors, and ran up the bank, the others following at once. As they appeared on the bank a boy working in the garden gave a shrill whistle; a man immediately appeared at the door and looked surprised at the appearance of the party. He stepped back a foot, and then, as if changing his mind, came out and closed the door after him.
"I am a magistrate of the County of Essex," Mr. Bostock said, "and I have come to see a warrant executed for the search of your house for a child named Walter Rivington, who is believed to be concealed here, and who has been stolen from the care of his guardians."
"I know nothing of any child of that name," the man replied, "but I have a child here that I am taking care of for a gentleman in London; I have had him here for just a year, and no one has made any inquiries about him. You are welcome to enter and see if he is the one you are in search of. If he is, all that I can say is that I know nothing about his being stolen, and shall be very sorry to lose him."
He stood aside, and the two constables entered, followed closely by Hilda. The latter gave a cry of joy, for seated on the ground, playing with a box of soldiers, was Walter. She would hardly have known him anywhere else. His curls had been cut short, his face was brown and tanned, and his clothes, although scrupulously clean, were such as would be worn by any bargeman's boy at that age. The child looked up as they entered. Hilda ran to him, and caught him up in her arms.
"Don't you know me, Walter? Don't you remember Cousin Hilda?"
"Yes, I remember you," the child said, now returning her embrace. "You used to tell me stories and take me out in a carriage for drives. Where have you been so long? And where is grandpapa? Oh, here is Netta!" and as Hilda put him down he ran to her, for during the four months spent in the country she had been his chief playmate.
"I have learned to swim, Netta. Uncle Bill has taught me himself; and he is going to take me out in his barge some day."
The woman, who had come in with her arms covered with lather, from the little washhouse adjoining the house, now came forward.
"I hope, miss, that there is nothing wrong," she said to Hilda. "We have done our best for the little boy, and I have come to care for him just as if he had been my own; and if you are going to take him away I shall miss him dreadful, for he is a dear little fellow," and she burst into tears.
Walter struggled from Netta's arms, and ran to the woman, and, pulling her by the apron, said:
"Don't cry, Aunt Betsy; Jack is not going away from you. Jack will stay here; he likes going in a barge better than riding in a carriage."
"Well, Miss Covington," Mr. Bostock said, "the recognition appears to be complete on both sides; now what is the next step? Do you give this man into custody for unlawfully concealing this child and aiding and abetting in his abduction?"
"Will you wait a minute while I speak to Mr. Pettigrew?" she said; and they went out of the house together.
"Well, what do you think, Mr. Pettigrew?"
"I have been thinking it over all the way as we came down," the lawyer said. "Of course, we have no shadow of proof that this man was aware who the child was, and, in fact, if he had seen the placards offering altogether fifteen hundred pounds for his recovery, we must certainly assume that he would have given him up; forhowever well he may have been paid for taking charge of him, the offer would have been too tempting for a man of that kind to have resisted. No doubt he had strong suspicions, but you can hardly say that it amounted to guilty knowledge that the child had been abducted. If Walter had been ill-treated I should have said at once, 'Give him into custody'; but this does not seem to have been the case."
"No; they have evidently been very kind to him. I am so grateful for that that I should be sorry to do the man any harm."
"That is not the only point," the lawyer went on. "It is evident that the other people very seldom come down here, and from what you heard, in future Simcoe is going to write. If we arrest this man the others will know at once that the game is up. Now, if you will take the child away quietly, we can tell the man that he shall not be prosecuted, providing that he takes no steps whatever to inform his employers that the child is gone; even if one of them came down here to see the child, the wife must say that he is away on the barge. Anyhow, we shall have ample time to decide upon what steps to take against Simcoe, and can lay hands upon him whenever we choose; whereas, if he got an inkling that we had discovered the child, he and his associate would probably disappear at once, and we might have lots of trouble to find them."
"Yes, I think that would be a very good plan, Mr. Pettigrew. I will ask him and his wife to come out."
"That will be the best way, my dear. We could hardly discuss the matter before Bostock."
Hilda went in. As soon as she spoke to the man and his wife Mr. Bostock said, "If you want a conference, Miss Covington, I will go out and leave you to talk matters over."
He and the two constables withdrew, and Mr. Pettigrew came in.
"Now, my man," he began, "you must see that you have placed yourself in a very awkward position. Youare found taking care of a child that has been stolen, and for whose recovery large rewards have been offered all over the country. It is like the case of a man found hiding stolen goods. He would be called upon to account for their being in his possession. Now, it is hardly possible that you can have been ignorant that this child was stolen. You may not have been told so in words, but you cannot have helped having suspicions. From what the child no doubt said when he first came here, you must have been sure that he had been brought up in luxury. No doubt he spoke of rides in a carriage, of servants, his nurse, and so on. However, Miss Covington is one of the child's guardians, and I am the other, and we are most reluctant to give you in charge. It is evident, from the behavior of the child, and from the affection that he shows to yourself and your wife, that you have treated him very kindly since he has been here, and these toys I see about show that you have done your best to make him happy."
"That we have, sir," the man said. "Betsy and I took to him from the first. We have no children of our own, none living at least, and we have made as much of him as if he had been one of our own—perhaps more. We have often talked it over, and both thought that we were not doing the fair thing by him, and were, perhaps, keeping him out of his own. I did not like having anything to do with it at first, but I had had some business with the man who gave him to me, and when he asked me to undertake the job it did not seem to me so serious an affair as it has done since. I am heartily sorry that we have had any hand in it; not only because we have done the child harm, but because it seems that we are going to lose him now that we have come to care for him as if he was our own."
"Of course you played only a minor part in the business, Nibson. We quite understand that, and it is the men who have carried out this abduction that we want to catch. Do you know the name of the man who brought the child to you?"
"I don't, sir. He knows where to find me, but I have no more idea than a child unborn who he is or where he lives. When he writes to me, which he generally does before he comes down, which may be two or three times a month, or may be once in six months, he signs himself Smith. I don't suppose that is his right name, but I say fairly that if I knew it, and where he lived, I would not peach upon him. He has always been straight with me in the business I have done with him, and I would rather take six months for this affair than say anything against him."
"We are not asking you at present to say anything against him, and he is not the principal man in this business. I believe he is only acting as agent for another more dangerous rascal than himself. We are not prepared at the present moment to arrest the chief scoundrel. Before we do that we must obtain evidence that will render his conviction a certainty. We have reason to believe that this man that you know will not come down for some time, and that you will receive the money for the child's keep by post; but if we abstain altogether from prosecuting you in this matter, you must give us your word that you will not take any steps whatever to let them know that the child is no longer with you. He says that you promised to take him out in your barge. Well, if by any chance this man—not your man, but the other—comes down here, and wants to see the child, you or your wife will lead him to believe that he is on board your barge. It will also be necessary that, if we do arrest them, you should enter as a witness to prove that the man handed the child over to you. You could let it be seen that you are an unwilling witness, but the evidence of the handing over of the child will be an absolute necessity."
"All right, sir, I will undertake that. There is no fear of my letting him know that the child has gone, for I don't know where to write him; and if he or the other should come down, if I am here I shall have no difficulty in keeping it from him that the child hasgone, for my man has never set foot in this house. He just meets me on the road near Pitsea, says what he has to say, and gives me what he has to give me, and then drives off again. Of course, if I am summoned as a witness, I know that the law can make me go. I remember now that when he gave me the child he said he was doing it to oblige a friend of his, and he may be able to prove that he had nothing to do with carrying it off."
"That is as it may be," the lawyer said dryly. "However, we are quite content with your promise."
"And I thank you most heartily, you and your wife," Hilda Covington said warmly, "for your kindness to the child. It would have made me very happy all this time if I could have known that he was in such good hands, but I pictured him shut up in some vile den in London, ill treated, and half starved. He has grown very much since he has been with you, and looks a great deal more boyish than he did."
"Yes, he plays a good deal with my barge boy, who has taken to him just as we have."
"Well, your kindness will not be forgotten nor unrewarded, Mr. Nibson."
"I'm sure we don't want any reward, miss; we have been well paid. But even if we hadn't been paid at all after the first month, we should have gone on keeping him just the same."
"Now, Walter," Hilda said, "we want you to come home with us; we have all been wanting you very badly. Nurse and Tom Roberts have been in a terrible way, and so has Dr. Leeds. You remember him, don't you? He was very kind to you all the time that you were down in the country."
The child nodded. "I should like to see Tom Roberts and nurse, but I don't want to go away. I am going out in the barge soon."
"Well, dear, I dare say that we shall be able to arrange for you to come down sometimes, and to go out in it, especially as you have learned to swim. We are going away now in a boat."
"I often go out in the boat," Walter pouted. "I go with Joshua; he is a nice boy, Joshua is, and I like him."
"Well, dear, we will see what we can do for Joshua."
"You are sure that I shall come back and go out in the barge?"
"Quite sure, dear; and perhaps I will go out with you, too."
"Yes, you must go, like a good boy," Mrs. Nibson said. "You know, dear, that I shall always love you, and shall be very, very glad if the ladies can spare you to come down to see me sometimes. You won't forget me, will you?"
"No, Aunt Betsy, I shall never forget you; I promise you that," the child said. "And I don't want to go away from you at all, only Cousin Hilda says I must."
Mr. Pettigrew went out to tell Mr. Bostock that they should not give Nibson into custody.
"The principal scoundrels would take the alarm instantly," he said, "and, above all things, we want to keep them in the dark until we are ready to arrest them. It will be much better that we should have this man to call as a witness than that he should appear in the dock as an accomplice."
"I think that you are right there," the magistrate agreed; "and really, he and his wife seem to have been very kind to the child. I have been talking to this young barge boy. It seems he is no relation of these people. His mother was a tramp, who died one winter's night on the road to Pitsea. He was about ten or eleven years old then, and they would have sent him to the workhouse; but Nibson, who was on the coroner's jury, volunteered to take him, and I dare say he finds him very useful on board the barge. At any rate, he has been well treated, and says that Nibson is the best master on the river. So the fellow must have some good in him, though, from what the coastguard officer said, there are very strong suspicions that he is mixed up in the smuggling business, which, it seems, is still carried on in these marshes. Well,no doubt you have decided wisely; and now, I suppose, we shall be off."
At this moment they were joined by the coastguard officer.
"He has done us again," he said. "We have been investigating these outhouses thoroughly, and there is no question that he has had smuggled goods here. We found a clever hiding-place in that cattle-shed. It struck me that it was a curious thing that there should be a stack of hay built up right against the side of it. So we took down a plank or two, and I was not surprised to find that there was a hollow in the stack. One of the men stamped his foot, and the sound showed that there was another hollow underneath. We dug up the ground, and found, six inches below it, a trapdoor, and on lifting it discovered a hole five or six feet deep and six feet square. It was lined with bricks, roughly cemented together. It is lucky for him that the place is empty, and I should think that after this he will go out of the business for a time. Of course we cannot arrest a man merely for having a hidden cellar; I fancy that there are not many houses on the marshes that have not some places of the sort. Indeed, I am rather glad that we did not catch him, for in other respects Nibson is a decent, hard-working fellow. Sometimes he has a glass or two at the 'Lobster Smack,' but never takes too much, and is always very quiet and decent in his talk. I doubt whether the men would have found that hiding-place if I had not been there; they all know him well, and would not get him into a scrape if they could help it, though there are some fellows on the marshes they would give a month's pay to catch with kegs or tobacco."
The door of the house opened, and the three women and Nibson came out with Walter, who was now dressed in the clothes that they had brought down for him.
While the others were getting ready to enter the boat the officer took Nibson aside.
"You have had a close squeak of it, Nibson; we foundyour hiding-place under the stack, and it is lucky for you that it was empty. So we have nothing to say to you. I should advise you to give it up, my man; sooner or later you are bound to be caught."
The man's brow had darkened as the officer began, but it cleared up again.
"All right," he said; "I have been thinking for the last half hour that I shall drop the business altogether, but when a man once gets into it, it is not so easy to get out. Now that you have found that cellar, it is a good excuse to cut it. I can well say that I dare not risk it again, for that, after so nearly catching me, you would be sure to keep an extra sharp eye on me in the future."
"You give me your word for that, Nibson?"
"Yes, sir; I swear off it altogether from the present day."
"Good. I will take your word for it, and you can go in and come out as you like without being watched, and you need not fear that we shall pay you another visit."
Walter went off in fair spirits. The promise that he should come down again and see his friends and have a sail in the barge lessened the pang of leaving, and as Hilda's and Netta's faces came more strongly back to him, as they talked to him and recalled pleasant things that had almost faded from his memory, he went away contentedly, while Betsy Nibson went back to the house and had what she called "a good cry." She too, however, cheered up when her husband told her how narrow an escape he had had, and how he had given his word that he would drop smuggling altogether.
"That makes my mind easier than it has been for years, Bill. And will you give up the other thing, too? There may not be much harm in running kegs and bacca, but there is no doubt about its being wrong to have anything to do with stolen goods and to mix yourself up with men who steal them."
"Yes, I will give that up, too, Betsy; and, as soon as Ihave time to look round, I will give an order for a new barge to be built for me. I have been ashamed of the old thing for a long time past with her patched sails. Of course, she suited my purpose, for when the other barges kept on their course it gave me a good excuse for anchoring; but it aint pleasant to have every barge passing you. There is old Joe Hargett; he said the other day that, if I ever thought of getting a new barge, he would give a hundred for her. He has got a set of decent sails, and he is a pretty handy carpenter, and no doubt he will make her look decent again. A hundred pounds aint much, but it will help. I can get a new one complete, sails and all, for fourteen or fifteen hundred, and have a hundred or two left in the bag afterwards. I tell you what, Betsy, I will get an extra comfortable cabin made, and a place forward for Joshua. It will be dull for you here now the child is gone, and it would be a sight more comfortable for us both to be always together."
"That it will, Bill," she said joyfully. "I was always very happy on board till we lost our Billy. I took a dislike to it then, and was glad enough to come here; but I have got over it now, and this place is very lonely during the long winter nights when you are away."
Then they talked over the barge, and how the cabin should be fitted up, and, in spite of having lost Walter, the evening was a pleasant one to them.
That was not the only conversation that took place that day with reference to a new barge for Bill Nibson. As they rowed up against the tide, Hilda said:
"We must do something for that bargeman, Colonel Bulstrode. I am sure we cannot be too grateful to him and his wife for their treatment of Walter. Think how different it might have been had he fallen into bad hands. Now he looks the picture of health; the change in the life and the open air has done wonders. You know, Dr. Leeds said that the officer of the coastguard had told him that Nibson's barge was one of the oldest and rottenest crafts on the river. Now, I propose thatwe buy him a new one. What would it cost, Colonel Bulstrode?"
"I have not the slightest idea," the Colonel replied; "it might cost five hundred pounds, or it might cost five thousand, for all I know."
"I will ask the waterman," Hilda said, and raising her voice she said, "How much do barges cost when they are new?"
"From ten or eleven hundred up to fifteen," the man said.
"Does that include sails and all?"
"Yes, miss; down to the boat."
"Who is considered the best barge-builder?"
"Well, there are a good many of them, miss; but I should say that Gill, of Rochester, is considered as good as any."
"What do you think, Mr. Pettigrew?" Hilda said. "Should we, as Walter's guardians, be justified in spending this money? Mind, I don't care a bit whether we are or not, because I would buy it myself if it would not be right for us to use his money."
"I am afraid that it would not be right," Mr. Pettigrew said. "As a trustee of the property, I should certainly not feel myself justified in sanctioning such a sum being drawn, though I quite admit that this good couple should be rewarded. I cannot regard a barge as a necessary; anything in reason that the child could require we should be justified in agreeing to. Of course, whatever may be his expenses at a public school, we should pay them without hesitation; but for a child of that age to give a present of fifteen hundred pounds would be altogether beyond our power to sanction."
"Very well," Hilda said decidedly, "then I shall take the matter into my own hands, and I shall go down to Rochester to-morrow and see if these people have a barge ready built. I don't know whether they are the sort of things people keep in stock."
"That I can't say, my dear. I should think it probable that in slack times they may build a barge or two onspeculation, for the purpose of keeping their hands employed, but whether that is the case now or not I don't know. If these people at Rochester have not got one you may hear of one somewhere else. I want you all to come up to the office one day next week to talk over this matter of the order Simcoe is applying for—for us to carry out the provisions of the will—at any rate, as far as his legacy is concerned."
"Very well, Mr. Pettigrew, I will come up any time that you write to me, but you know that I have very strong opinions about it."
"I know your opinions are strong, as ladies' opinions generally are," Mr. Pettigrew said with a smile; "but, unfortunately, they are much more influenced by their own view of matters than by the legal bearing of them. However, we will talk that over when we meet again."
The arrival of Walter occasioned the most lively joy in Hyde Park Gardens. Hilda had written to his nurse, who had gone home to live with her mother when all hope of finding Walter had seemed to be at an end, to tell her that he would probably be at home on Wednesday evening, and that she was to be there to meet him. Her greeting of him was rapturous. It had been a source of bitter grief to her that he had been lost through a momentary act of carelessness on her part, and the relief that Hilda's letter had caused was great indeed. The child was scarcely less pleased to see her, for he retained a much more vivid recollection of her than he did of the others. He had already been told of his grandfather's death, but a year had so effaced his memory of him that he was not greatly affected at the news. In the course of a few hours he was almost as much at home in the house as if he had never left it.
The next morning Hilda went down to Rochester with Netta, Tom Roberts accompanying them. They had no difficulty in discovering the barge-builder's. It seemed to the girls a dirty-looking place, thickly littered as it was with shavings; men were at work on two or three barges which seemed, thus seen out of the water, an enormous size.
"Which is Mr. Gill?" Hilda asked a man passing.
"That is him, miss," and he pointed to a man who was in the act of giving directions to some workmen. They waited until he had finished, and then went up to him.
"I want to buy a barge, Mr. Gill," Hilda said.
"To buy a barge!" he repeated in surprise, for never before had he had a young lady as a customer.
Hilda nodded. "I want to give it to a bargeman who has rendered me a great service," as if it were an everyday occurrence for a young lady to buy a barge as a present. "I want it at once, please; and it is to be a first-class barge. How much would it cost?"
The builder rubbed his chin. "Well, miss, it is a little unusual to sell a barge right off in this way; as a rule people want barges built for them. Some want them for speed, some want them for their carrying capacity."
"I want a first-class barge," Hilda replied. "I suppose it will be for traffic on the Thames, and that he will like it to be fast."
"Well, miss," the builder said slowly, for he could not yet quite persuade himself that this young lady wasreally prepared to pay such a sum as a new barge would cost, "I have got such a barge. She was launched last week, but I had a dispute with the man for whom I built her, and I said that I would not hold him to his bargain, and that he could get a barge elsewhere. He went off in a huff, but I expect he will come back before long and ask me to let him have her, and I should not be altogether sorry to say that she is gone. She is a first-class barge, and I expect that she will be as fast as anything on the river. Of course, I have got everything ready for her—masts, sails, and gear, even down to her dingey—and in twenty-four hours she would be ready to sail. The price is fifteen hundred pounds," and he looked sharply at Hilda to see what effect that communication would have. To his great surprise she replied quietly:
"That is about the sum I expected, Mr. Gill. Can we look at her?"
"Certainly, miss; she is lying alongside, and it is nearly high tide."
He led the way over piles of balks of timber, across sloppy pieces of ground, over which at high tide water extended, to the edge of the wharf, where the barge floated. She was indeed all ready for her mast; her sides shone with fresh paint, her upper works were painted an emerald green, a color greatly in favor among bargemen, and there was a patch of the same on her bow, ready for the name, surrounded by gilt scrollwork.
"There she is, miss; as handsome a barge as there is afloat."
"I want to see the cabin. What a little place!" she went on, as she and Netta went down through a narrow hatchway, "and how low!"
"It is the usual height in barges, miss, and the same size, unless especially ordered otherwise."
"I should like the cabin to be made very comfortable, for I think the boatman will have his wife on board. Could it not be made a little larger?"
"There would be no great difficulty about that. You see, this is a water-tight compartment, but of course it could be carried six feet farther forward and a permanent hatchway be fixed over it, and the lining made good in the new part. As to height, one might put in a good-sized skylight; it would not be usual, but of course it could be done."
"And you could put the bed-place across there, could you not, and put a curtain to draw across it?"
"Yes, that could be managed easy enough, miss; and it would make a very tidy cabin."
"Then how much would that cost extra?"
"Forty or fifty pounds, at the outside."
"And when could you get it all finished, and everything painted a nice color?"
"I could get it done in a week or ten days, if you made a point of it."
"I do make a point of it," Hilda said.
"What do you say to our leaving this bulkhead up as it is, miss, and making a door through it, and putting a small skylight, say three feet square, over the new part? You see, it will be fifteen feet wide by six feet, so that it will make a tidy little place. It would not cost more than the other way, not so much perhaps; for it would be a lot of trouble to get this bulkhead down, and then, you see, the second hand could have his bunk in here, on the lockers, and be quite separate."
"Isn't there a cabin at the other end?"
"Well, there is one, miss; you can come and look at it. That is where the second hand always sleeps when the bargeman has got his wife on board."
"I think that it would be better to have the second hand sleep there," Hilda said. "This is very rough," she went on, when she inspected the little cabin forward; "there are all the beams sticking out. Surely it can be made more comfortable than this."
"We could matchboard the timbers over if you like, but it is not usual."
"Never mind, please do it; and put some lockers upfor his clothes, and make it very comfortable. Has the barge got a name yet?"
"Well, miss, we have always called her theMedway; but there is no reason that you should stick to that name. She has not been registered yet, so we can call her any name you like."
"Then we will call her theWalter," Hilda said, for the girls had already settled this point between them.
"And now, Mr. Gill, I suppose there is nothing to do but to give you a check for fifteen hundred pounds, and I can pay for the alterations when I come down next Monday week. Can you get me a couple of men who understand the work—bargees, don't you call them? I want them to take her as far as Hole Haven and a short way up the creek."
"I can do that easily enough," the builder said; "and I promise you that everything shall be ready for sailing, though I don't guarantee that the paint in the new part of the cabin will be dry. All the rest I can promise. I will set a strong gang of men on at once."
A few days later Hilda wrote a line to William Nibson, saying that she intended to come down with the child on the following Monday, and hoped that he would be able to make it convenient to be at home on that day.
"She is not long in coming down again, Betsy," he said, when on the Friday the barge went up to Pitsea again, and he received the letter, which was carried home and read by his wife, he himself being, like most of his class at the time, unable to read or write. "I suppose the child pined in his new home, and she had to pacify him by saying that he should come down and see us next week. That will suit me very well. I have a load of manure waiting for me at Rotherhithe; it is for Farmer Gilston, near Pitsea, so that I shall just manage it comfortably. Next week I will go over to Rochester and see if I can hear of a good barge for sale."
On the following Monday morning the girls again went down to Rochester, this time taking Walter withthem; having the previous week sent off three or four great parcels by luggage train. Roberts went to look for a cart to bring them to the barge-builder's, and the girls went on alone.
"There she lies, miss," Mr. Gill said, pointing to a barge with new tanned sails lying out in the stream; "she is a boat any man might be proud of."
"She looks very nice indeed," Hilda said, "though, of course, I am no judge of such things."
"You may be sure that she is all right, Miss Covington."
"Is the paint dry, down below?"
"Yes. I saw that you were anxious about it, so put plenty of drier in. So that, though she was only painted on Saturday morning, she is perfectly dry now. But you are rather earlier than I had expected."
"Yes; we have sent a lot of things down by rail. Our man is getting a cart, and I dare say they will be here in a quarter of an hour."
The things were brought on a large hand-cart, and as soon as these were carried down to the boat they went off with Mr. Gill to the barge.
"There, miss," he said, as he led the way down into the cabin; "there is not a barge afloat with such a comfortable cabin as this. I put up two or three more cupboards, for as they will sleep in the next room there is plenty of space for them."
Except in point of height, the cabin was as comfortable a little room as could be desired. It was painted a light slate color, with the panels of the closets of a lighter shade of the same. The inner cabin was of the same color. A broad wooden bedstead extended across one end, and at the other were two long cupboards extending from the ceiling to the floor. The skylight afforded plenty of light to this room, while the large one in the main cabin gave standing height six feet square in the middle.
"It could not have been better," Hilda said, greatly pleased.
"Well, miss, I took upon myself to do several things in the way of cupboards, and so on, that you had not ordered, but seeing that you wanted to have things comfortable I took upon myself to do them."
"You did quite right, Mr. Gill. This big skylight makes all the difference in height. I see that you have painted the name, and that you have got a flag flying from the masthead."
"Yes; bargemen generally like a bit of a flag, that is to say if they take any pride in their boat. You cannot trade in the barge until you have had it registered; shall I get that done for you?"
"Yes, I should be very much obliged if you would."
"And in whose name shall I register it? In yours?"
"No; in the name of William Nibson. If you want his address it is Creek Farm, Pitsea."
"Well, miss, he is a lucky fellow. I will get it done, and he can call here for the register the first time he comes up the Medway."
Roberts was sent ashore again for a number of hooks, screws, and a few tools.
"Now, Mr. Gill, we are quite ready to start. We shall get things straight on the voyage."
"You will have plenty of time, miss; she will anchor off Grain Spit till the tide begins to run up hard. You won't be able to get up the creek till an hour before high tide."
"That won't matter," Hilda said; "it will not be dark till nine."
"You can get up the anchor now," the builder said to two men who had been sitting smoking in the bow.
The barge's boat was lying bottom upwards on the hatches and another boat lay behind her.
"This boat does not belong to her, Mr. Gill; does she?" Hilda asked.
"No, miss; that is the men's boat. When they have got the barge to where she is to be moored, they will row down to Hole Haven, and get a tow up with thefirst barge that comes down after the tide has turned. How will you be coming back, Miss Covington?"
"We have arranged for a gig to be at Hole Haven at eight o'clock to drive us to Brentwood, where we shall take train to town. We shall not be up before half-past eleven, but as we have our man with us that does not matter; besides, the carriage is to be at the station to meet the train."
The girls and Walter watched the operation of getting up the anchor and of setting the foresail and jib. They remained on deck while the barge beat down the long reach past the dockyards, and then with slackened sheets rounded the wooded curve down into Gillingham Reach, then, accompanied by Roberts, they went below. Here they were soon hard at work. The great packages were opened, and mattresses and bedclothes brought out.
"This reminds one of our work when you first came to us," Netta laughed, as they made the bed.
"Yes, it is like old times, certainly. We used to like to work then, because we were doing it together; we like it still more to-day, because not only are we together, but we are looking forward to the delight that we are going to give."
Carpets were laid down, curtains hung to the bed, and a wash-hand stand fixed in its place. A hamper of crockery was unpacked and the contents placed on the shelves that had been made for them, and cooking utensils arranged on the stove, which had been obtained for them by the builder. By this time Roberts had screwed up the hooks in the long cupboards, and in every spot round both cabins where they could be made available. Then numerous japanned tin boxes, filled with tea, sugar, and other groceries, were stowed away, and a large one with a label, "Tobacco," placed on a shelf for Bill Nibson's special delectation. Curtains that could be drawn were fixed to the skylights, looking-glasses fastened against the walls, and by the time that the barge neared Sheerness their labors were finished. Then the forward cabin was similarly made comfortable.Walter had assisted to the best of his power in all the arrangements, and when he became tired was allowed to go up on deck, on his promise to remain quiet by the side of the helmsman.
"Now I think that everything is in its place," Hilda said at last, "and really they make two very pretty little rooms. I can't say that the one in the bow is pretty, but at any rate it is thoroughly comfortable, and I have no doubt that Joshua will be as pleased with it as the Nibsons are with theirs. Oh, dear, how dusty one gets! and we never thought of getting water on board for the jugs."
On going up on deck, however, they observed two barrels lashed together.
"Are those water?" Hilda asked the man at the tiller.
"Yes, ma'am."
"How do you get it out? I don't see a tap."
"You put that little pump lying by the side into the bunghole. I will do it for you, miss."
"Now we will go downstairs and tidy up, and then come and sit up here and enjoy ourselves," said Hilda.
When they were below they heard a rattle of the chain, and, on going up, found that the barge had come to anchor in the midst of some thirty or forty others. The foresail had been run down and the jib lowered, but the great mainsail, with its huge, brightly painted sprit, was still standing. Roberts now opened a hamper that had been left on deck, and produced luncheon. Cold meat and beer were handed to the two watermen, who went up into the bow to eat it. An hour later the tide began to slacken, and many of the barges got up sail.
"Shall we get up the anchor, ma'am?" one of the watermen asked.
"There's plenty of time, is there not?" Hilda asked.
"Yes, ma'am, but we thought that you would like to see how she goes with the others."
"Yes, I should like that," Hilda said, and in a few minutes the barge was under sail again.
"She is a clipper, and no mistake," the man at thetiller said, as one by one they passed the barges that had started ahead of them, and Walter clapped his hands in delight.
"We may as well go down to the lower end of the Hope, miss. We shall have plenty of time to get back again before there is water enough for us in the creek."
For three hours they sailed about, the girls enjoying it as much as Walter.
"I do think, Netta, that I shall have to buy a barge on my own account. It is splendid, and, after all, the cabins are large enough for anything."
"You had better have a yacht," Netta laughed. "You would soon get tired of always going up and down the river."
"One might do worse," Hilda said. "Of course, now we shall give up that big house in Hyde Park Gardens, which is ridiculous for me and the boy. We have each got a country house, and when we want a thorough change I would infinitely rather have a yacht than a small house in town. I don't suppose that it would cost very much more. Besides, you know, it is arranged that I am always to have rooms at your house at the institute. That is to be the next thing seen after; you know that is quite agreed upon."
"I shall be glad to be at work again," Netta said. "Now that Walter is found, there is certainly nothing to keep us any longer in town."
"I know that it must have been horribly dull for you, Netta, but you see that you are partly to blame yourself for refusing to go out with me."
"That would have been duller still," Netta laughed. "I should have been a long time before I got to know people, and there is no good in knowing people when you are going right away from them in a short time, and may never meet them again."
At last the men said that there would be water enough to get up the creek.
"We shan't be able to sail up, miss; you see, the wind will be right in our teeth. But that don't matter; wecan pole her up. The tide will take us along, and we shall only have to keep her straight and get her round the corners."
"Are you sure that there will be water enough?"
"Yes, miss. You see, she is empty, and doesn't draw much more than a foot of water."
As they entered the haven the head sails were dropped and the mainsail brailed up. The tide was running in strong, and, as the men had said, they had nothing to do but to keep the barge in the deepest part of the channel.
"How do you think they will be coming, Bill?" Betsy Nibson said, as she joined her husband, who was standing on the bank dressed in his Sunday clothes.
"I cannot say, Betsy; if I had known I should have gone to meet them. They cannot drive here from Pitsea, but must walk; and, of course, I would have been there if I had been sure of their coming that way. But I should think most likely that they will drive to the haven and come up by boat."
"There is a new barge coming up the creek," Joshua said. "You can see that she is new by her spars and sails."
"That's so, boy," Bill agreed. "She has got a flag I haven't seen before at her masthead. It is white, and I think there are some red letters on it—her name, I suppose. 'Tis not often that a new barge comes up to Pitsea. She is a fine-looking craft," he went on, as a turning in the creek brought her wholly into view. "A first-class barge, I should say. Yes, there is no doubt about her being new. I should say, from the look of her spars, she cannot have made many trips up and down the river."
"She has got a party on board," Mrs. Nibson said presently. "There are two women and a child. Perhaps it's them, Bill. They may have some friend in the barge line, and he has offered to bring them down, seeing that this is a difficult place to get at."
"I believe you are right, Betsy. They are too faroff to see their faces, but they are certainly not barge people."
"They are waving their handkerchiefs!" Betsy exclaimed; "it is them, sure enough. Well, we have wondered how they would come down, but we never thought of a barge."
The three hurried along the bank to meet the barge. Walter danced and waved his hat and shouted loudly to them as they approached.
"You did not expect to see us arrive in a barge, Mrs. Nibson," Hilda called out as they came abreast of them.
"No, indeed, miss; we talked it over together as to how you would come, but we never thought of a barge."
"It belongs to a friend of ours, and we thought that it would be a pleasant way of coming. She is a new boat. You must come on board and have a look at her before we land."
In a few minutes the barge was alongside the bank, opposite the house. A plank was run across and Walter scampered over it to his friends.
"Bless his little face!" Mrs. Nibson said, as she lifted him up to kiss her. "What a darling he looks, Bill! And he has not forgotten us a bit."
"He could not well forget in a week," Bill said, rather gruffly, for he, too, was moved by the warmth of the child's welcome. "Well, let us go on board and pay our respects. She is a fine barge, surely; and she has got the same name as the child."
"Why, it is not 'Jack,'" his wife said, looking up.
"Jack!" her husband repeated scornfully. "Didn't they call him Walter the other day? Go on, wife; the lady is waiting at the end of the plank for you."
Mrs. Nibson put the child down and followed him across the plank, smoothing her apron as she went.
"My best respects, miss," she said, as Hilda shook hands with her warmly.
"We are glad to see you again, Mrs. Nibson, and hope that you have not missed Walter very much."
"I cannot say that I have not missed him a good deal,miss, but, luckily, we have had other things to think about. We are giving up the farm; it is lonesome here in the winter, and I am going to take to barge life again."
"Well, what do you think of this barge, Mr. Nibson?" Hilda asked.
"I allow she is a handsome craft, and she ought to be fast."
"She is fast. We have been sailing about until there was enough water in the creek, and we have passed every barge that we have come near. She is comfortable, too. Come below and look at her cabin."
"Well, I never!" Mrs. Nibson said, pausing in astonishment at the foot of the ladder. "I have been in many barge cabins, but never saw one like this." Her surprise increased when the door of the bulkhead was opened and she saw the sleeping cabin beyond. "Did you ever, Bill?"
"No, I never saw two cabins in a barge before," her husband said. "I suppose, miss, the owner must have had the cabin specially done up for his own use sometimes, and the crew lived forward."
"There is a place forward for the second hand," she replied, "and I suppose the owner will sleep here."
"Of course it is a loss of space, but she will carry a big load, too. Who is the owner, miss, if I may make so bold as to ask?"
"The registered owner is William Nibson," Hilda said quietly.
The bargeman and his wife gazed at each other in astonishment.
"But," he said hesitatingly, "I have never heard of any owner of that name."
"Except yourself, Nibson."
"Yes, except myself; but I am not an owner, as I have sold theMary Ann."
"There is no other owner now," she said, "that I know of, of that name. The barge is yours. It is bought as testimony of our gratitude for the kindnessthat you have shown Walter, and you see it is named after him."
"It is too much, miss," said Bill huskily, while his wife burst into tears. "It is too much altogether. We only did our duty to the child, and we were well paid for it."
"You did more than your duty," Hilda said. "The money might pay for food and shelter and clothes, but money cannot buy love, and that is what you gave, both of you; and it is for that that we now pay as well as we can."
"Miss Covington should say 'I,'" Netta broke in, "for it is her present entirely. Walter's trustees could not touch his money for the purpose, and so she has done it herself."
"Hush, Netta! You should have said nothing about it," Hilda said; and then, turning to Nibson, went on, "I am his nearest relative—his only relative, in fact—besides being his guardian, and, therefore, naturally I am the most interested in his happiness; and as, fortunately, I am myself very well off, I can well afford the pleasure of helping those who have been so good to him. Please do not say anything more about it. Now we will go on deck for a few minutes, and leave you and your wife to look round. We will show Joshua his cabin."
So saying, she and Netta went on deck. Joshua, led by Walter, was just crossing the plank. He had not received a special invitation, and he felt too shy to go on board with these ladies present. Walter, however, had run across to him, and at last persuaded him to come.
"Well, Joshua," Hilda said, as she reached him, "what do you think of the barge?"
"She is as good a one as ever I seed," the boy said.
"Well, Joshua, she belongs to Mr. Nibson."
"To Bill?" Joshua exclaimed. "You don't mean it, miss."
"I do mean it," she said; "this is his barge."
"Well, I shouldn't have thought that Bill was that artful!" Joshua exclaimed almost indignantly. "Fancyhis keeping it from the missis and me that he had been and bought a new barge! But she is a fine one, there aint no doubt about that."
"Come forward and look at your cabin, Joshua. I think you will say that it is more comfortable than usual."
"Well, I am blowed!" the boy ejaculated, as he followed her down the ladder and looked round. "Why, it is a palace, that is wot it is; it is more comfortable than the master's cabin aft in most barges. And what a bed! Why, it is soft enough for a hemperor."
"There are no sheets, Joshua. They told me that the men never use sheets in barges."
"Lor' bless you! no, ma'am. We mostly stretch ourselves on the locker and roll ourselves up in a blanket, if we are lucky enough to have one. Why, I don't know as I shan't be afraid of getting into that bed, though I does take a header in the water every morning. There are lockers on both sides, too, and a basin. Who ever heard of such a thing as a basin? Why, miss, we allus washes in the pail on deck."
"Well, I should think that it would be a good deal more comfortable to wash down here in a basin on a cold morning."
"Well, I suppose it might, miss; it be sharp sometimes outside. Why, there is oilcloth all over the floor, and a mat to wipe one's feet at the bottom of the ladder, and a rug by the side of the bed! I never did see such things. Bill must have gone clean off his chump. Well, I am blessed!"
"It is Miss Covington who has given Bill the barge and seen to its being fitted up," Netta said, "and she has done her best to make your cabin as comfortable as possible, because you have been so kind to Walter."
"And I hope to do some more for you, Joshua, when I can see my way to do it. You will find two or three suits of clothes for your work in those lockers. I do not know that they will quite fit, but I dare say if they don't Mrs. Nibson can alter them for you, and you willfind shirts and warm underclothing, and so on, in that cupboard."
Joshua sat down suddenly on a locker, completely overpowered with what seemed to him the immensity of his possessions.
There the girls left him, and they went up on deck again.
Going aft, they sat down and talked for a few minutes, and were then joined by Nibson and his wife. The latter still bore traces of tears on her cheeks, and there was a suspicious redness about Bill's eyes.
"We won't try to say what we would like to say," the man began, "'cause we could not say it, but we feels it just the same. Here we are with everything man or woman could wish for, ready to hand."