Tales of Northumbria Part 18

The doctor had to be sent for, and for a week the protege was kept in bed; when he did come down again he was as contrite as possible, and I carefully avoided all mention of the disaster, for I had a dim feeling of guilt in the matter, suspecting that he went down the valley that evening to the alehouse in consequence of his excitement at his triumph over myself.

Now that he was about again, and my friend too was quite restored, I determined to depart, and the next morning went down early to the Frolic to enjoy a last bathe.

I was sitting on a shelf of rock above a deep pool, drying myself slowly after my swim, when I heard sounds below me. Looking out from my shelter, I saw Blythe, who appeared to be about to follow my example. His procedure, however, was curious; for first he cast his cap upon the waters, then carefully deposited what looked to me like a Bible on his coat on the bank, and, finally, having looked about him stealthily, took off his shoes and proceeded to ford the burn.

'He's off,' I thought to myself, then cried to him, 'Holloa! what's up?'

He stood stock-still in mid-stream like one petrified, then, perceiving me, waded slowly to sh.o.r.e.

'Noo, don't ye blab tae Mistor Rutherford,' he said, as he came close up underneath where I was standing. 'I's awa aff. I cannot stay, but I doot the little man will be sair troubled aboot it, sae let him think on as that I'm drooned, wi' the Bible there tae show I's a convarted character, for he's been one tae many for Blythe, an' I wud'na like him tae grieve ower my disappointing him. I cam' for a bit fun, but it's turning tae seriousness noo, an' I can't bide any mair, that's a sartinty.'

I don't know whether I acted wrongly or not, but I fell in with his view of the situation, and when I had finished my dressing he had already stolen out of sight.

I stayed on another week after this, and during that time successfully concealed my connivance at the protege's flight.

The discovery of his cap and coat was considered proof of his having been drowned, and the Bible, borrowed from himself for the occasion, provided at once a consolation for my friend and a rebuke to my scepticism.

I spent a night in Oldcastle on my way back to town, and chance took me through one of the most thickly populated, though not most aristocratic, quarters of the city. It was a fine night, and I had prolonged my stroll unconsciously. Suddenly the swing-door of a public-house was thrown back violently, and a man came hurtling through, and fell with a thud on the pavement beside me; a face peered through the aperture of the doors for a moment, and in a flash I recognised it.

The gentleman who had been thus ignominiously 'chucked out' slowly pulled himself together, collected his faculties and his hat with difficulty, uttered some violent and abusive epithets, then slowly staggered off down the street with drunken dignity.

I went inside the aforesaid doors. My eyes had not deceived me, for there was the protege behind the counter in his new capacity of barman and 'chucker out.' He signed to me to follow him into the 'snug,' and there confided to me that he had got a permanent job for the first time in his life.

'Here,' said he, 'is a bar' (sovereign); 'send it along tae Mister Rutherford, an' tell him I's alive an' hearty, an' that I canna rest till I's paid for the blankets an' beddin' I burnt the other week.

Mind,' says he, 'ye're not tae say where I am, but tell him I've a situation, an's givin' satisfaction.'

'Well,' thought I to myself, as I returned to my hotel, 'if my friend hasn't reformed the protege, he has come at all events as near to success as is good for the ordinary mortal.'

FOOTNOTE:

[22] The author understands that this is the case in regard to some of the livings in the gift of Greenwich Hospital.

THE SPANISH DOUBLOON

Ransacking Jake's treasury one afternoon, I made an unexpected find--no less than a Spanish doubloon hidden away in an old sporran of a great-uncle of his.

The history of the fox-marked rapier, of the blood-stained tress of hair found at Cawnpore, and of the yellow robe of the Brahmin, I knew already; but the heavy Spanish coin suggested something of a different order.

'Come,' said I, holding it up so as to attract his attention, 'tell me the tale connected with this--something to do with a pirate, or the Spanish Main, I dare swear.'

Jake smiled quaintly as he fingered the coin with deliberation. 'Weel, it's a queer tale, sartinly, that's connected wi' yon coin, but all I can tell ye is what my aunt telled me langsyne, when she presented it to me on my joining the sarvice, just before I left for India.

'Noo, my aunt, ye mun ken, was a widow woman who lived on a bit property she had left her doon at the small, ootlandish-named seaport, as it was then, o' Bocca Chica, on the Northumberland coast.

'There was a man there she kenned nicely--in fact, she aye said afterwards, wi' a shudder at the thocht o't, that at one time he wanted to marry wi' her--who cut a big figure i' the place, by name Isaac Stephenson--"Black Isaac," as he was mair usually styled. It seems he had been bred and born i' the place, but had run awa to sea i' his youth, an' after many voyagings here an' there turns up again wi' pockets fu' o' siller, and a wee, misbegotten heathen dwarf o' a Malay as his attendant.

'The dwarf called hissel' Chilpo, or some such uncanny name, an' was a kind o' body-servant an' clerk an' dirty-job man to Isaac. But Isaac never let on where he picked him up, an' Chilpo was a sour-tempered little deil, whom maist folks were terrified o'; sae naebody e'er kenned muckle o' his antecedents or ancestry.

'Weel, Isaac, on his settling doon again at home, set up i' business as a s.h.i.+powner an' broker, an' carried on a large business as an exporter o' coals, an' did a bit, as maist everybody did i' those days, i' the smuggling line--salt, an' lace, an' brandy, ye ken. He had siller, as I said, when he started his new trade, though naebody kenned hoo he had come by it; but it was no lang before he was the richest man i' the toon, an' folk began to talk weel o' him, an'

praise him up as a good citizen as was a credit to the toon, an' ask him to open bazaars for them, an' suchlike.

'There was just one strange thing aboot him, an' that was that the womenfolk couldn't abide him. E'en after he had made hisself the richest man i' the toon, he could ne'er get hissel' married, though 'twas said my aunt, when he took up wi' religion, had aince had a thocht o' him, but no for lang, for there was suthin' aboot him that tarrified her when it came near the point.

'He was no ill-favoured neither, for I mind seein' him mysel' as a lad aince I was stayin' wi' my aunt--a tall, poo'erfu', black-haired man, wi' heavy eyebrows, an' a l.u.s.tfu' sort o' eye--half hectorin', half cowardly. But he had a cruel sort o' look aboot him--thick-lipped, an'

greedy, sweaty sort o' hands.

'Weel, after a good few years o' prosperity he turned sort o'

sickly-like, an' for the first time i' his life began to think upon his latter end, an' at the finish takes up wi' a sect o' Bible Christians, or Christadelphians, or some such body, who were glad to get hold o' such a rich, influential sort o' person withoot askin'

ower mony questions.

'Weel, he gans to his chapel, an' he prays, an' he gies his testimony, an' calls hissel' all sorts o' names, but was ay cautious no to gie ower mony details o' his sins, an' the good folk were highly edified by it, my aunt amangst them, an' asked him for subscriptions for every sort o' charity.

'But Chilpo, he couldna stand this sudden right-about-face, for there was nae releegion at aal i' his wee, misshapen anatomy, naething but love o' siller, and beastly, secretive pleasures o' opium drams an'

such like. An' he mutinies against it, an' cusses an' swears to hissel' i' his pigeon-English talk, for Isaac by degrees began to hae his doots aboot the lawfu'ness o' smugglin' an' saeforth, an' Chilpo's wages an' profits dootless wud suffer by his maister's scruples.

'Consequence was, there grew to be bad blood betwixt maister an' man, an' folk could hear them quarrelling inside the office o' nights, till at the finish there's a grand flare-up, Isaac seemingly strikin'

Chilpo, an' Chilpo clickin' his maister wi' his knife.

'Chilpo gets the bag for that, Isaac no daurin' to prosecute him, for he kenned ower muckle. But he disna leave the toon; just hangs aboot, d.o.g.g.i.n' Isaac's footsteps, an' cussin' to hissel' i' his queer, ootlandish way o' talk. "Him coward," he would mutter, "but Chilpo brave man. He no take no blowee. Chilpo hang Isaac--hang himselfee--no matter--Chilpo fear nozzin'," an' he would gnash wi' his white teeth savagely like a mad dog as he saw Isaac pa.s.s along the street.

'His heart was just as black as his sweaty, black phiznommy, an' he properly haunted Isaac till he fair plagued him to death.

'One Sabbath, when there was a great function on at Isaac's chapel, he actually follows him in, an' sat sneerin' an' mimickin' an' makin'

game o' Isaac as he prayed an' groaned, an' confessed to bein' a muckle great sinner i' the past, till Isaac was near mad wi' rage an'

terror. He tried to pray, but the words wouldn't come richt, an' the sweat poured aff his brow, they said, till folk thought he was about to hae a fit or seizure o' some sort.

'At the finish he gies it up, an', staggerin' on to his feet, points i' a frenzied sort o' way to Chilpo sittin' there below him, an' cries oot loud: "It's the deil, it's the deil! Drive him awa; drive him oot o' the holy place! I tell ye he's sin hissel'. See the sooty face on him!"

'"Ugh! Black Isaac, him coward!" shouts Chilpo, standin' up on his seat. "Him sky-pilot nowee, no goodee any more. Once a timee diffelent; good pilate once, grand pilate with Chilpo; men's pilate, women's pilates, temple's pilates, all sorts pilates. Oh yez; huzza!

Dam good timee then; ping-pang, click-click, plenty moneys, plenty grogs, plenty funee. O yez; Chilpo, he knowee." The little heathen chuckled to himself, makin' uncanny motions wi' his hands o'

throat-cuttin' an' liquor-drinkin' an' fillin' his pockets wi' siller.

'"Him hipple-c.l.i.te nowee," continued Chilpo, shoutin' aloud to all the chapel-folks who hadn't recovered theirsels from their amazement; "dam hipple-c.l.i.te! Why, him wors.h.i.+p the debbil like Chilpo former timee.

Him no use for prayee; him dam-ee, curs-ee; him Church's pilate, women's pilate, then burnee together. Oh yes, him lemember allight; askee him," an' wi' that he points his finger at Isaac, whose face was workin' in a frightful fas.h.i.+on, his eyes starin' this way an' that, wi' no meanin' i' them, his lips black, an' his mouth s...o...b..rin'; then sudden he starts to run, but catches his foot an' falls full length doon on the floor an' drums wi' his hands amangst the cus.h.i.+ons.

'There was a panic at that; half o' the women faints dead awa, the bairns scream, and some o' the men drives Chilpo, still chucklin' to himself, oot at the door wi' blows, whilst others attend to Isaac lyin' wi' his head covered i' the dusty cus.h.i.+ons an' his hands hard a-grip o' the seat-stanchions.

'They loosens his grasp wi' difficulty, but lifts him up at the finish wi' a shockin' face on him, an' a senseless tongue that babbled aboot a parrot. Some said it mun ha' been i' reference someway to some wicked episode i' his past life which Chilpo kenned o' an' alluded to i' the chapel. Maybe a parrot had been left the sole survivor after a sack, ye ken, an' Isaac couldna forget the scene. Anyways, Chilpo, the dam cunnin' little de'il, kenned o' the hidden sore i' Isaac's mind, an' laid a cruel finger on 't wi' the blackest malice. An' there was nae doot aboot the outcome o't, for Isaac was gone clean daft, an'

died not long afterwards i' the asylum.

'Weel, they gied him a big buryin', for his brethren i' the chapel said they believed he was a true repentant sinner, an' forbye that he had left a good bit siller amangst them, which would dootless a.s.sist them to that conclusion; an' as there had been some body-s.n.a.t.c.hin'

lately, they determined to form a small watch committee to keep guard at the graveside for a night or two.

'Weel, the watch was composed o' some decent elderly folk, who didn't trash theirselves ower the job; an' mevvies the funeral festivities had delayed them a bit, for they didn't arrive at the graveyard till aboot half-past ten o' the clock.