The Old Tobacco Shop Part 9

"Not on your life," said Toby. "You don't get no tobacco out of me, and that's flat."

The elderly man sighed again, and looked steadily at Freddie; but he evidently thought there was no hope in that quarter, and he said nothing.

Freddie now realized who the elderly gentleman was. He had a wooden leg, and he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg--It was the Old Codger whom Mr. Toby had now and then sung a song about; one of his two friends, the one who was always begging tobacco, and never had any of his own. Freddie looked at him, and felt rather sorry for him.

"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Very sorry to intrude, Miss Amanda. I hope I'm not in the way. It's very mild weather we're having."

"Now, then," said Toby, briskly, "let's look at this map."

As he said this, another knock was heard at the door; a firm and confident knock this time.

"Confound it!" said Toby. "Who next? Come in!"

The door opened, and another elderly man stepped in; a tall slim man, with very white hair and a long narrow face; he carried a tall s.h.i.+ny black silk hat in his hand; he wore a black suit, all of broadcloth, and his coat hung to his knees and was b.u.t.toned to the top; his cuffs and collar and s.h.i.+rt were of beautiful white linen with a gloss, and his tie was a little white linen bow. He came forward with an air of warm benevolence.

"My dear, _dear_ friends!" he said, and stretched out both hands towards the company, as if to clasp them all to his heart. "What a beautiful, beautiful scene! So homelike, so cosy, so sociable, so--so--What can be so beautiful as the gathering together of friends about the family hearth! _So_ beautiful!" There was a Latrobe stove in the room, but no hearth; however, that made no difference; he went, with his hands outstretched, to Aunt Amanda, and pressed one of hers in both of his.

The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg immediately sidled up to him, and while he was still pressing Aunt Amanda's hand, said, in a confidential tone:

"Ahem! I'm delighted to see you again. I trust you are well. The fact is, I find that I have--er--left my tobacco pouch at home,--most unfortunate; very seldom forget it; completely lost without it; I was wondering--er--ahem!--if you happened to have such a thing about you as a--"

"No!" said the other old man, changing at once from beaming benevolence to stern severity. "I'll be hanged if I do!" And he released Aunt Amanda's hand, and turned his back on the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg.

"Now," said Toby, "let's look at the map. This here is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie."

The newcomer took Mr. Punch's hand in both of his and squeezed it softly; he then took Freddie's hand in both of his and pressed it tenderly. Freddie knew him. He was the "other Old Codger, as sly as a fox, who always had tobacco in his old tobacco-box." Freddie could hardly believe that that white-haired old gentleman could be as sly as a fox.

"My dear, _dear_ friends!" said the Sly Old Fox. "What is so beautiful as the love of friends?" He stopped to glare at the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, who looked away nervously. "The love of friends! Gathered together around the family hearth! How beautiful! It touches me, my friends, it touches me----"

"That's all right about that," said Toby. "For heaven's _sake_, let's look at the map!"

Aunt Amanda spread out the map on the table beside her, and the others gathered round.

"It's an island!" cried Toby.

"On the Spanish Main," said Aunt Amanda.

"The Spanish Main!" said the Sly Old Fox. "A beautiful country! Full of palms,--and grape-nuts,--What you might call a real work of nature! Full of parrots, and monkeys, and lagoons, and other wild creatures; a work of nature, my dear friends, a real work of nature."

"And pirates," said Freddie, earnestly.

"I _said_ parrots," said the Sly Old Fox.

"_I_ said pirates," said Freddie.

"Just what I said," said the Sly Old Fox. "That live in trees, my little friend, in trees; and have red and blue feathers, and----"

"Pirates don't have feathers," said Freddie.

"Dear, dear!" said the Sly Old Fox. "How _can_ you say such a thing? How _can_ you----?"

"Did you ever see a pirate in a tree?"

"In cages, my dear little friend! Hundreds of them!"

"That's enough!" said Mr. Toby. "Quit wrangling for a minute, will you?

What about this here map? I tell you what, though. I'd like the Churchwarden to see this map. Freddie, will you run down the street and get the Churchwarden?"

"Yes, sir," said Freddie, moving towards the door.

"And tell him to bring along his Odour of Sanct.i.ty with him. He always carries a bottle of it in his pocket, and we may need it. Don't forget it."

"No, sir," said Freddie.

"Hold on a minute," said Mr. Toby, s.n.a.t.c.hing up his hat. "I'll go for him myself. I can do it quicker." And in a moment he was out of the door.

CHAPTER IX

THE ODOUR OF SANCt.i.tY

While Toby was gone, Aunt Amanda explained to the two old men about the Sailorman from China, and about his gift of the map which was lying on the table. They were just at the end of their discussion when Toby returned, bringing with him the Churchwarden, puffing and blowing with the unusual exertion of walking, and without his pipe. Toby introduced him to Mr. Punch and the two old Codgers, and drew him up to the table and showed him the map, explaining at the same time how it came there.

The Churchwarden examined the map carefully, while the others all looked at him. He finally put down the map, settled himself in a chair, folded his hands across his fat stomach, blew out his cheeks, and said:

"My opinion is, that what we ought to do is to--I've considered the matter carefully, from all sides, and I think we ought to--Of course you may not agree with me, but I think the best thing to do would be to--Unless, of course, some of you may think of something better, but if you don't, then I can't say as there's anything better to do than to----"

At this moment there came a sound from the street outside which made everyone but Aunt Amanda jump to his feet. It was the sound of running feet, mixed with strange cries, not very loud, but somehow blood-curdling. It was evident that someone was in trouble. Freddie and the five men rushed from the room and through the shop and into the street.

The street was very dark, except for a gas-lamp at the opposite corner.

A white figure was running down the pavement towards the shop-door, with frantic speed; and behind him, evidently chasing him, came a crowd of little dark creatures, hard to make out in the dim light. It was these creatures who were making the little blood-curdling cries. In a moment they had come so near that the party about the shop-door could see what they were. In front, running desperately with leaps and bounds, and panting for breath, came a tall slim man all in tight-fitting white clothes, with a dead white face and a white hairless head; and after him, tumbling on pell-mell, was a perfect riot of little red imps, with little horns on their foreheads, and little tails behind them, all trying to spear the white man with the wicked little pitchforks which they carried, and to seize him with their claws. Freddie thought they were precisely like the imps he had seen at Hanlon's Superba. When the white man reached the shop-door they had nearly caught him. He paused at that moment, looked wildly about him, saw the open door of the shop, and dashed in and banged the door to behind him. The imps came tumbling up and hesitated an instant before the men at the door; and in that instant the Churchwarden showed the most unexpected presence of mind. He quickly reached behind him and drew a small bottle out of his pocket and pulled out the cork and sprinkled a few drops of its contents on the ground before him. A sharp penetrating odour immediately filled the air; it was so intense that it made the tears come into Freddie's eyes; but what it did to the wild mob of imps was almost beyond belief. As they got their first whiff of it, they tumbled back over one another in a mad effort to get away; but they could not get away from the odour quick enough; it caught them and held them, so that in a moment they could not move; they stood fixed and fast and silent; in another moment they began to melt away, and in two minutes they had vanished; actually vanished where they stood, each and every one, before the very eyes of the astonished party before the door.

"Blimy hif I ever see the like!" said Mr. Punch.

"Never knew my Odour of Sanct.i.ty to fail once," said the Churchwarden, coolly. "Hardly ever go out without it. There ain't a witch or an imp or a bad spirit of any kind whatever can stand up against my Odour of Sanct.i.ty, if he once gets a couple of good whiffs of it out of this little bottle. Just a few drops from the bottle, and a few sniffs, and whoof! they're done for! No, sir! there ain't no perfumery in the world like Odour of Sanct.i.ty!"

On the floor of the shop they found the poor white man lying completely exhausted. They asked him to explain, but he could not speak. Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch, one on each side, supported him into the back room, and sat him down in a chair before Aunt Amanda. She held up her hands in astonishment. The man was certainly a strange-looking man. They plied him with questions, but he touched his tongue with his finger and shook his head. He could not speak; he was dumb. Freddie, after one long look at him under the gaslight, knew who he was.

"It's Mr. Hanlon!" he cried, in great excitement. "It's Mr. Hanlon!"

The dumb man looked at Freddie and smiled, and nodded his head. He rose to his feet, shook Freddie's hand, and made a graceful bow to the whole company.

"It's Mr. Hanlon sure enough," said Toby, "still being chased by the imps. Pretty near got him that time, too! But he got away safe and sound after all, didn't he, eh?" And all the party, including Mr. Hanlon himself, laughed with delight. And when the Churchwarden pulled out his little perfume bottle and showed it around, and explained to Mr. Hanlon what it had done, the poor man was so overcome that he put his head down on the Churchwarden's shoulder and wept.

"This'll never do!" cried Toby. "Ain't we never, _never_, going to get down to this here map? I never _see_ such a time as I've had, trying to examine this here map! One thing right after another! Mr. Hanlon, I'll tell you what it's about, and then you can see it for yourself. Would you like to stay here with our little party? It's a good deal safer than out-of-doors."