The Astonishing History of Troy Town Part 52

"She nodded again, with a world of healing pity in her eyes.

Then, with a swift glance at her brother, she stooped and kissed me.

"'Oh!' said Peter, very shortly; 'I'm thinkin' I'd best see Paul 'bout this;' and with that he disappeared.

"Whereupon," concluded Mr. Fogo, "I think I must have dropped asleep again, for I remember nothing after this--at least, nothing that is worth mention."

It is quite true that Mr. Fogo dropped asleep. He slept, moreover, for a considerable time, and awoke to find Caleb seated beside the bed.

"Where is Tam--Miss Dearlove?" he asked.

"There ain't no Dearlove, as I knaws by, called Tammis. The males was chris'n'd Peter an' Paul, the female Thomasina: an' they'm gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone, an' left we like Hocken's duck, wi'out mate or fellow."

"How long?"

"Matter o' five hour'."

There was a long silence.

"Caleb!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"How long do you think it will be before I can get about--be fit to go downstairs, I mean?"

"Well, sir, I reckon et depends on yoursel'. Try, an' 'twill come, as the Doctor said when Bill swallered 'arf-a-crown an' wanted to get et up agen by Lady-Day, rent bein' doo."

"Do you think a week would do it?"

"Better say a fortni't, sir."

"What day is it to-day?"

"Thursday."

"Have I been ill for two days?"

"For a fortni't an' two days."

"Bless my soul!"

"Amen, sir."

"Caleb, would you mind writing a letter for me?"

Caleb had no objection; and the composition that followed may be given in full, for works of divided authors.h.i.+p have always possessed an interest of their own from the days of Homer, Homer and Homer downwards:--

"Hond Twins,--"

"Mr. Fogo's complements to the pare of You not forgetting Miss Thomasina and shall be glad if you will all Dine with me at 7 p.m. in the evening precisely on This day (Wensdy) fortunite.

You will be glad to heer that I am recuvering fast thanks to your care and kindness which Is his own words and Gospel truth and so No more at present from yours to command"

"P. Fogo, Esq."

"per C. Trotter."

"Knowing whats up with the kitchin range you wont look for much of A dinner."

The answer was brought up by Paul Dearlove early, next morning.

It ran:--

"Respectd Sir,--"

"This is thanking you for your kind and welcome letter just recd, and shall be proud to accept of the invitation in the spirit in which it is given you must not mind the kitchin range please as between them that knows all about it having difficulties at times with the beef tea which trusting you will overlook we remain"

"Your obedt servts"

(signed) "Peter Dearlove."

"Paul Dearlove."

"Thomasina has gone into Troy or would have signed too."

To a certain extent this was satisfactory; and Mr. Fogo endeavoured to possess his soul in patience, and recover with all speed. It was weary work at first, but as the sick man really began to mend he found much interest in discussing with Caleb the preparations for the feast.

"We must not be too ambitious, Caleb. Let the fare be simple-- '_Persicos odi, puer, apparatus_'--as long as it is well cooked and neatly served."

"I dunno what you means by 'pure apparatus,'" answered Caleb.

"There's a flaw in the range, as you knaw; but 'tes so clane as scrubbin' 'll make et."

And, indeed, when the evening arrived with the mellow twilight of July, and the Twins with a double knock, the arrangement of the table, as well as the smell of cooking which pervaded the front hall, did Caleb all credit. The dining-room was bare alike of carpet and pictures, but the floor had been scoured until the boards glistened whitely; and two red ensigns, borrowed by Caleb from the British mercantile marine, served to hide certain defects in the wallpaper.

Here Mr. Fogo sat awaiting his guests; for the preparation of the drawing-room would have overtaxed Caleb's resources.

"Miss Thomasina Dearlove, and Messrs. Peter and Paul ditto!"

Mr. Fogo arose with a flush on his wasted cheek, held Tamsin's hand for a moment, and then, bending, kissed it with grave courtesy.

She had removed her hat and cloak in the pa.s.sage, and now stood before him in a plain white frock--short-waisted, and of antique make, perhaps, but little the worse for that. She wore no ornament but a red rose on her bosom; and if, as I do not believe, a shade of apprehension had troubled Mr. Fogo, it would have taken flight as she stood before him, challenging his eyes.

But the Twins!

Like the Austrian army, they were "awfully arrayed." So stiff and s.h.i.+ny indeed was their apparel, and such mysterious sounds did the slightest movement draw from their linen, that the beholder grew presently as uneasy as the wearer. Each wore a high stock and a collar that cut the ears. The neck-cloth of Peter was crimson; of Paul, vivid amber. The waistcoats of both bore floral devices in primary colours, and the hands of both were encased in gloves of white cotton.

Mr. Fogo took heart of grace and bade them welcome.