Dutch the Diver Part 67

"About what poor girl?" said Tom Brough.

"That poor girl whose heart's being broken up into tiny bits by you and him--her father," cried Keziah, fiercely, "and I've come to know if you ain't ashamed of yourself. There, hold your tongue, and listen to what I've got to say; I haven't said anything to him at home, because it's like talking to stone and marbles. But I've come to talk to you."

"Talk away, then," said Tom Brough, pleasantly.

"I'm going to," said Keziah, angrily, "and don't you think, Mr Brough, that you're going to get rid of me like that, because you are not, so now then. This marriage can't go on."

"Why not?" said Tom Brough, offering a gla.s.s of wine, which was refused.

"Because I'm not going to see my darling that I've nursed and tended ever since she was a baby driven into her grave to please you. There, keep off--gracious, if the man isn't mad!"

Keziah half shrieked the last words, for, leaping from his seat, Tom Brough made a rush at her, chased her round the table with an activity hardly to have been expected from one of his years, followed her out on to the landing as she hastily beat a retreat, down the stairs, along the pa.s.sage, and caught her on the door-mat, where, after a sharp scuffle, he succeeded in imprinting a couple of sounding kisses upon her cheek before she got the door open, and, panting and tumbled, rushed out nearly to the oversetting of Peter Pash, who, with his eye to the keyhole, had seen the chase in part, heard the scuffle in full, and now stood gazing grandly at the panting object of his affections.

"Keziah!" he exclaimed at length, "I thought better of you."

"What do you mean by that?" exclaimed the irate dame.

"I thought you had been a woman as could be trusted," he said, sadly.

"Trusted, indeed!" cried Keziah. "Why, he's a madman, that's what he is. He's off his head because of this wedding: see if he ain't."

"Keziah!" said Peter, loftily, "I've done with you."

"Give me that umbrella," cried Keziah, s.n.a.t.c.hing the great gingham from his hand. "Now just you speak to me again like that, young man, and I'll talk to you."

"I'll see you home. I won't be mean," said Peter. "But you've broken a true and trusting heart, Keziah."

"Hold your tongue, do," she cried; "just as if I hadn't enough to bother me without your silly clat. I did think he'd be open to reason," she added half aloud.

Peter did not answer, but walked by Keziah's side till they turned down by the Mansion House and entered Walbrook, when with a start the latter caught Peter by the arm and pointed down the deserted way to where a light figure was seen to hurriedly leave John Richards' door, and then to flit beneath lamp after lamp in the direction of Cannon-street.

"Where's she going?" exclaimed Keziah, hoa.r.s.ely. "What is she out for to-night?"

"Who is it?" said Peter, though it was for the sake of speaking, for he knew.

"She's mad, too, and we're all mad, I believe," cried Keziah. "O, Peter, if you love me as you say, hold by me now, for there's something going wrong; don't lose sight of her for an instant, if you value me.

Make haste, man, and come on."

"That's cool!" said Peter, "and after me seeing some one else kissing and hugging you."

"Quick, quick!" cried Keziah, excitedly catching Peter's hand in hers; and then together they pa.s.sed down Walbrook and across the street at the bottom, both too fat and heavy to keep the light figure in sight without great exertion.

Down one of the hilly lanes and into Thames-street they panted, with the light drapery now lost sight of, now seen again at some corner, and then to disappear down one of the dark fog-dimmed openings, up which came the faint odour of the river and the low lapping noise of its waters against the slimy steps below.

"Quick, quick!" said Keziah hoa.r.s.ely, "or we shall be too late."

Her earnest manner more than her words seemed to impress Peter Pash, and hurrying along he was the first to catch sight of the light figure they chased now standing motionless on the edge of a wharf, while the wind came mournfully sighing off the river, in whose inky breast, all blurred and half-washed-out, shone the light of star and Keziah's breath seemed drawn in deep groans, as for a few minutes she stood, as it were, paralysed. Then recovering herself, and motioning Peter back, she advanced quickly, and just as the light figure gave a start and seemed about to step forward, she threw her arms round it and held it tightly, sobbing hysterically the while.

But only for a few seconds.

"Here, Peter, quick," she cried, "that shawl. And were you looking for me, my pet? We've been walking. But never mind, we've found you now, and I won't leave you again. Don't talk--don't say anything, only come home quickly!"

Without a word, without resistance, May Richards suffered herself to be led homeward, merely gazing from time to time at her old servant in a half-dazed way as if she could not understand the meaning of it all, nor yet why she was being led with Keziah's arm so tightly holding hers.

And so they walked back to find the door in Walbrook ajar, with Tom Brough standing in the entry.

"Go back now, Peter," whispered Keziah, "and not a word of this to a soul."

"But what's he here for?" said Peter, in the same tone.

"You miserable jealous pate," whispered the old servant fiercely, "if you don't be off--"

She said no more, for Peter _was_ off, and then she turned to Mr Brough.

"You may well look," she whispered to him, as he said a few unnoticed words to May. "All your doing--all your doing. Another minute, and the poor lamb would have been sleeping in the river."

Tom Brough started, and then caught May in his arms, and bore her up-stairs, where for quite an hour she sat in a dazed, heedless way that troubled Keziah more than would a pa.s.sionate outburst.

"If she'd only cry," she whispered at last to Mr Brough, "But you won't press for it now, Mr Brough; you won't, sir, I'm sure. People say you're a good man, and that you're kind and charitable. Look at the poor thing; her heart's broke--it is indeed."

"I'm going now," said Mr Brough in answer, and then when Keziah accompanied him down to the door, "Do not leave her for an instant, if you love the poor child; and, look here, Keziah, the wedding must take place, and it is for her good--_mark me_, for her good. I love her too well to make her unhappy, and if you do your duty you will help me all you can."

Keziah closed the door without a word, and a minute after she was kneeling beside and crying over the heartbroken girl.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER SIX.

HARD-HEARTED.

Time glided on.

"You've come again, then?" said Keziah Bay.

"Yes, I've come again," said Mr Peter Pash. "Trade's very brisk, Keziah."

"Is it?" said that lady, in the most indifferent of tones.

"Yes, things are looking up well," said Mr Pash, "and my lodger has dropped dips and taken to composites. You know what that means, of course."

"Not I," said Keziah indifferently. "I don't trouble my head about such things."

"You're always a-snubbing me, Keziah," said the little man dolefully.

"It's no good for me to try and please you."

"Not a bit," said Keziah with a smile. "You ought to know better than to come wherrittin' me when there's so much trouble in the house."

"But it ain't our trouble," said Peter Pash. "Why, if I was to make myself unhappy about other folks' candles, where should I be? Now, I say, Keziah dear, when's it to be?"