At Sunwich Port, Part 3. - W.W. Jacobs
AT SUNWICH PORT
BY
W. W. JACOBS
Part 3.
ILLUSTRATIONS
From Drawings by Will Owen
CHAPTER XI
Jack Nugent's first idea on seeing a letter from his father asking him to
meet him at Samson Wilks's was to send as impolite a refusal as a strong
sense of undutifulness and a not inapt pen could arrange, but the united
remonstrances of the Kybird family made him waver.
"You go," said Mr. Kybird, solemnly; "take the advice of a man wot's seen
life, and go. Who knows but wot he's a thinking of doing something for
you?"
"Startin' of you in business or somethin'," said Mrs. Kybird. "But if 'e
tries to break it off between you and 'Melia I hope you know what to
say."
"He won't do that," said her husband.
"If he wants to see me," said Mr. Nugent, "let him come here."
"I wouldn't 'ave 'im in my house," retorted Mr. Kybird, quickly. "An
Englishman's 'ouse is his castle, and I won't 'ave him in mine."
"Why not, Dan'l," asked his wife, "if the two families is to be
connected?"
Mr. Kybird shook his head, and, catching her eye, winked at her with much
significance.
"'Ave it your own way," said Mrs. Kybird, who was always inclined to make
concessions in minor matters. "'Ave it your own way, but don't blame me,
that's all I ask."
Urged on by his friends Mr. Nugent at last consented, and, in a reply to
his father, agreed to meet him at the house of Mr. Wilks on Thursday
evening. He was not free him-self from a slight curiosity as to the
reasons which had made the captain unbend in so unusual a fashion.
Mr. Nathan Smith put in an appearance at six o'clock on the fatal
evening. He was a short, slight man, with a clean-shaven face mapped with
tiny wrinkles, and a pair of colourless eyes the blankness of whose
expression defied research. In conversation, especially conversation of
a diplomatic nature, Mr. Smith seemed to be looking through his opponent
at something beyond, an uncomfortable habit which was a source of much
discomfort to his victims.
"Here we are, then, Mr. Wilks," he said, putting his head in the door and
smiling at the agitated steward.
"Come in," said Mr. Wilks, shortly.
Mr. Smith obliged. "Nice night outside," he said, taking a chair; "clear
over'ead. Wot a morning it 'ud be for a sail if we was only young
enough. Is that terbacker in that canister there?"
The other pushed it towards him.
"If I was only young enough--and silly enough," said the boarding-house
master, producing a pipe with an unusually large bowl and slowly filling
it, "there's nothing I should enjoy more than a three years' cruise.
Nothing to do and everything of the best."
"'Ave you made all the arrangements?" inquired Mr. Wilks, in a tone of
cold superiority.
Mr. Smith glanced affectionately at a fish-bag of bulky appearance which
stood on the floor between his feet. "All ready," he said, cheerfully,
an' if you'd like a v'y'ge yourself I can manage it for you in two twos.
You've on'y got to say the word."
"I don't want one," said the steward, fiercely; "don't you try none o'
your larks on me, Nathan Smith, cos I won't have it."
[Illustration: "Mr. Nathan Smith."]
"Lord love your 'art," said the boarding-master, "I wouldn't 'urt you.
I'm on'y acting under your orders now; yours and the captin's. It ain't
in my reg'lar way o' business at all, but I'm so good-natured I can't say
'no.'"
"Can't say 'no' to five pounds, you mean," retorted Mr. Wilks, who by no
means relished these remarks.
"If I was getting as much out of it as you are I'd be a 'appy man,"
sighed Mr. Smith.
"Me!" cried the other; do you think I'd take money for this--why, I'd
sooner starve, I'd sooner. Wot are you a-tapping your nose for?"
"Was I tapping it?" demanded Mr. Smith, in surprise. "Well, I didn't
know it. I'm glad you told me."
"You're quite welcome," said the steward, sharply. "Crimping ain't in my
line; I'd sooner sweep the roads."
"'Ear, 'ear," exclaimed Mr. Smith, approvingly. "Ah! wot a thing it is
to come acrost an honest man. Wot a good thing it is for the eyesight."
He stared stonily somewhere in the direction of Mr. Wilks, and then
blinking rapidly shielded his eyes with his hand as though overcome by
the sight of so much goodness. The steward's wrath rose at the
performance, and he glowered back at him until his eyes watered.
"Twenty past six," said Mr. Smith, suddenly, as he fumbled in his
waistcoat-pocket and drew out a small folded paper. "It's time I made a
start. I s'pose you've got some salt in the house?"
"Plenty," said Mr. Wilks.
"And beer?" inquired the other.
"Yes, there is some beer," said the steward.
"Bring me a quart of it," said the boarding-master, slowly and
impressively. "I want it drawed in a china mug, with a nice foaming 'ead
on it."
"Wot do you want it for?" inquired Mr. Wilks, eyeing him very closely.
"Bisness purposes," said Mr. Smith. "If you're very good you shall see
'ow I do it."
Still the steward made no move. "I thought you brought the stuff with
you," he remarked.
Mr. Smith looked at him with mild reproach. "Are you managing this
affair or am I?" he inquired.
The steward went out reluctantly, and drawing a quart mug of beer set it
down on the table and stood watching his visitor.
"And now I want a spoonful o' sugar, a spoonful o' salt, and a spoonful
o' vinegar," said Mr. Smith. "Make haste afore the 'ead goes off of it."
Mr. Wilks withdrew grumbling, and came back in a wonderfully short space
of time considering, with the articles required.
"Thankee," said the other; "you 'ave been quick. I wish I could move as
quick as you do. But you can take 'em back now, I find I can do without
'em."
"Where's the beer?" demanded the incensed Mr. Wilks; where's the beer,
you underhanded swab?"
"I altered my mind," said Mr. Smith, "and not liking waste, and seeing by
your manner that you've 'ad more than enough already to-night, I drunk
it. There isn't another man in Sunwich I could ha' played that trick on,
no, nor a boy neither."
Mr. Wilks was about to speak, but, thinking better of it, threw the three
spoons in the kitchen, and resuming his seat by the fire sat with his
back half turned to his visitor.
"Bright, cheerful young chap, 'e is," said Mr. Smith; "you've knowed 'im
ever since he was a baby, haven't you?"
Mr. Wilks made no reply.
"The Conqueror's sailing to-morrow morning, too," continued his
tormentor; "his father's old ship. 'Ow strange it'll seem to 'im
following it out aboard a whaler. Life is full o' surprises, Mr. Wilks,
and wot a big surprise it would be to you if you could 'ear wot he says
about you when he comes to 'is senses."
"I'm obeying orders," growled the other.
"Quite right," said Mr. Smith, approvingly, as he drew a bottle of whisky
from his bag and placed it on the table. "Two glasses and there we are.
We don't want any salt and vinegar this time."
Mr. Wilks turned a deaf ear. "But 'ow are you going to manage so as to
make one silly and not the other?" he inquired.
"It's a trade secret," said the other; "but I don't mind telling you I
sent the cap'n something to take afore he comes, and I shall be in your
kitchen looking arter things."
"I s'pose you know wot you're about?" said Mr. Wilks, doubtfully.
"I s'pose so," rejoined the other. "Young Nu-gent trusts you, and, of
course, he'll take anything from your 'ouse. That's the beauty of 'aving
a character, Mr. Wilks; a good character and a face like a baby with grey
whiskers."
Mr. Wilks bent down and, taking up a small brush, carefully tidied up the
hearth.
"Like as not, if my part in it gets to be known," pursued Mr. Smith,
mournfully, "I'll 'ave that gal of Kybird's scratching my eyes out or
p'r'aps sticking a hat-pin into me. I had that once; the longest hat-pin
that ever was made, I should think."
He shook his head over the perils of his calling, and then, after another
glance at the clock, withdrew to the kitchen with his bag, leaving Mr.
Wilks waiting in a state of intense nervousness for the arrival of the
others.
Captain Nugent was the first to put in an appearance, and by way of
setting a good example poured a little of the whisky in his glass and sat
there waiting. Then Jack Nugent came in, fresh and glowing, and Mr.
Wilks, after standing about helplessly for a few moments, obeyed the
captain's significant nod and joined Mr. Smith in the kitchen.
"You'd better go for a walk," said that gentle-man, regarding him kindly;
"that's wot the cap'n thought."
Mr. Wilks acquiesced eagerly, and tapping at the door passed through the
room again into the street. A glance as he went through showed him that
Jack Nugent was drinking, and he set off in a panic to get away from the
scene which he had contrived.
He slackened after a time and began to pace the streets at a rate which
was less noticeable. As he passed the Kybirds' he shivered, and it was
not until he had consumed a pint or two of the strongest brew procurable
at the _Two Schooners_ that he began to regain some of his old
self-esteem. He felt almost maudlin at the sacrifice of character he was
enduring for the sake of his old master, and the fact that he could not
narrate it to sympathetic friends was not the least of his troubles.
[Illustration: "It was not until he had consumed a pint or two of the
strongest brew that he began to regain some of his old self-esteem."]
The shops had closed by the time he got into the street again, and he
walked down and watched with much solemnity the reflection of the quay
lamps in the dark water of the harbour. The air was keen and the various
craft distinct in the starlight. Perfect quiet reigned aboard the
Seabird, and after a vain attempt to screw up his courage to see the
victim taken aboard he gave it up and walked back along the beach.
By the time he turned his steps homewards it was nearly eleven o'clock.
Fullalove Alley was quiet, and after listening for some time at his
window he turned the handle of the door and passed in. The nearly empty
bottle stood on the table, and an over-turned tumbler accounted for a
large, dark patch on the table-cloth. As he entered the room the kitchen
door opened and Mr. Nathan Smith, with a broad smile on his face, stepped
briskly in.
"All over," he said, rubbing his hands; "he went off like a lamb, no
trouble nor fighting. He was a example to all of us."
"Did the cap'n see 'im aboard?" inquired Mr. Wilks.
"Certainly not," said the other. "As a matter o' fact the cap'n took a
little more than I told 'im to take, and I 'ad to help 'im up to your
bed. Accidents will 'appen, but he'll be all right in the morning if
nobody goes near 'im. Leave 'im perfectly quiet, and when 'e comes
downstairs give 'im a strong cup o' tea."
"In my bed?" repeated the staring Mr. Wilks.
"He's as right as rain," said the boarding master. "I brought down a
pillow and blankets for you and put 'em in the kitchen. And now I'll
take the other two pound ten and be getting off 'ome. It ought to be ten
pounds really with the trouble I've 'ad."
Mr. Wilks laid the desired amount on the table, and Mr. Nathan Smith
placing it in his pocket rose to go.
"Don't disturb 'im till he's 'ad 'is sleep out, mind," he said, pausing
at the door, "else I can't answer for the consequences. If 'e should get
up in the night and come down raving mad, try and soothe 'im. Good-night
and pleasant dreams."
He closed the door after him quietly, and the horrified steward, after
fetching the bed-clothes on tiptoe from the kitchen, locked the door
which led to the staircase, and after making up a bed on the floor lay
down in his clothes and tried to get to sleep.
He dozed off at last, but woke up several times during the night with the
cold. The lamp burnt itself out, and in the dark he listened intently
for any sounds of life in the room above. Then he fell asleep again,
until at about half-past seven in the morning a loud crash overhead awoke
him with a start.
In a moment he was sitting up with every faculty on the alert. Footsteps
blundered about in the room above, and a large and rapidly widening patch
of damp showed on the ceiling. It was evident that the sleeper, in his
haste to quench an abnormal thirst, had broken the water jug.
Mr. Wilks, shivering with dread, sprang to his feet and stood irresolute.
Judging by the noise, the captain was evidently in a fine temper, and Mr.
Smith's remarks about insanity occurred to him with redoubled interest.
Then he heard a hoarse shout, the latch of the bedroom door clicked, and
the prisoner stumbled heavily downstairs and began to fumble at the
handle of the door at the bottom. Trembling with excitement Mr. Wilks
dashed forward and turned the key, and then retreating to the street door
prepared for instant flight.
He opened the door so suddenly that the man on the other side, with a
sudden cry, fell on all fours into the room, and raising his face stared
stupidly at the steward. Mr. Wilks's hands dropped to his sides and his
tongue refused its office, for in some strange fashion, quite in keeping
with the lawless proceedings of the previous night, Captain Nugent had
changed into a most excellent likeness of his own son.
[Illustration: "The man on the other side fell on all fours into the
room."]
CHAPTER XII
For some time Mr. Wilks stood gazing at this unexpected apparition and
trying to collect his scattered senses. Its face was pale and flabby,
while its glassy eyes, set in rims of red eyelids, were beginning to
express unmistakable signs of suspicion and wrath. The shock was so
sudden that the steward could not even think coherently. Was the captain
upstairs? And if so, what was his condition? Where was Nathan Smith?
And where was the five pounds?
A voice, a husky and discordant voice, broke in upon his meditations;
Jack Nugent was also curious.
"What does all this mean?" he demanded, angrily. "How did I get here?"
"You--you came downstairs," stammered Mr. Wilks, still racking his brains
in the vain effort to discover how matters stood.
Mr. Nugent was about to speak, but, thinking better of it, turned and
blundered into the kitchen. Sounds of splashing and puffing ensued, and
the steward going to the door saw him with his head under the tap. He
followed him in and at the right time handed him a towel. Despite the
disordered appearance of his hair the improvement in Mr. Nugent's
condition was so manifest that the steward, hoping for similar results,
turned the tap on again and followed his example.
"Your head wants cooling, I should think," said the young man, returning
him the towel. "What's it all about?"
Mr. Wilks hesitated; a bright thought occurred to him, and murmuring
something about a dry towel he sped up the narrow stairs to his bedroom.
The captain was not there. He pushed open the small lattice window and
peered out into the alley; no sign of either the captain or the ingenious
Mr. Nathan Smith. With a heavy heart he descended the stairs again.
[Illustration: "He pushed open the small lattice window and peered out
into the alley."]
"Now," said Mr. Nugent, who was sitting down with his hands in his
pockets, "perhaps you'll be good enough to explain what all this means."
"You were 'ere last night," said Mr. Wilks, "you and the cap'n."
"I know that," said Nugent. "How is it I didn't go home? I didn't
understand that it was an all-night invitation. Where is my father?"
The steward shook his head helplessly. "He was 'ere when I went out
last night," he said, slowly. "When I came back the room was empty and I
was told as 'e was upstairs in my bed."
"Told he was in your bed?" repeated the other. "Who told you?"
He pushed open the small lattice window and peered out into the alley.
Mr. Wilks caught his breath. "I mean I told myself 'e was in my bed," he
stammered, "because when I came in I see these bed-clothes on the floor,
an' I thought as the cap'n 'ad put them there for me and taken my bed
'imself."
Mr. Nugent regarded the litter of bed-clothes as though hoping that they
would throw a little light on the affair, and then shot a puzzled glance
at Mr. Wilks.
"Why should you think my father wanted your bed?" he inquired.
"I don't know," was the reply. "I thought p'r'aps 'e'd maybe taken a
little more than 'e ought to have taken. But it's all a myst'ry to me.
I'm more astonished than wot you are."
"Well, I can't make head or tail of it," said Nugent, rising and pacing
the room. "I came here to meet my father. So far as I remember I had
one drink of whisky--your whisky--and then I woke up in your bedroom with
a splitting headache and a tongue like a piece of leather. Can you
account for it?"
Mr. Wilks shook his head again. "I wasn't here," he said, plucking up
courage. "Why not go an' see your father? Seems to me 'e is the one
that would know most about it."
Mr. Nugent stood for a minute considering, and then raising the latch of
the door opened it slowly and inhaled the cold morning air. A subtle and
delicate aroma of coffee and herrings which had escaped from neighbouring
breakfast-tables invaded the room and reminded him of an appetite. He
turned to go, but had barely quitted the step before he saw Mrs. Kingdom
and his sister enter the alley.
Mr. Wilks saw them too, and, turning if anything a shade paler, supported
himself by the door-pest. Kate Nugent quickened her pace as she saw
them, and, after a surprised greeting to her brother, breathlessly
informed him that the captain was missing.
"Hasn't been home all night," panted Mrs. Kingdom, joining them. "I
don't know what to think."
They formed an excited little group round the steward's door, and Mr.
Wilks, with an instinctive feeling that the matter was one to be
discussed in private, led the way indoors. He began to apologize for the
disordered condition of the room, but Jack Nugent, interrupting him
brusquely, began to relate his own adventures of the past few hours.
Mrs. Kingdom listened to the narrative with unexpected calmness. She
knew the cause of her nephew's discomfiture. It was the glass of whisky
acting on a system unaccustomed to alcohol, and she gave a vivid and
moving account of the effects of a stiff glass of hot rum which she had
once taken for a cold. It was quite clear to her that the captain had
put his son to bed; the thing to discover now was where he had put
himself.
"Sam knows something about it," said her nephew, darkly; "there's
something wrong."
"I know no more than a babe unborn," declared Mr. Wilks. "The last I see
of the cap'n 'e was a-sitting at this table opposite you."
"Sam wouldn't hurt a fly," said Miss Nugent, with a kind glance at her
favourite.
"Well, where is the governor, then?" inquired her brother. "Why didn't
he go home last night? He has never stayed out before."
"Yes, he has," said Mrs. Kingdom, folding her hands in her lap. "When
you were children. He came home at half-past eleven next morning, and
when I asked him where he'd been he nearly bit my head off. I'd been
walking the floor all night, and I shall never forget his remarks when he
opened the door to the police, who'd come to say they couldn't find him.
Never."
A ghostly grin flitted across the features of Mr. Wilks, but he passed
the back of his hand across his mouth and became serious again as he
thought of his position. He was almost dancing with anxiety to get away
to Mr. Nathan Smith and ask for an explanation of the proceedings of the
night before.
"I'll go and have a look round for the cap'n," he said, eagerly; "he
can't be far."
"I'll come with you," said Nugent. "I should like to see him too. There
are one or two little things that want explaining. You take aunt home,
Kate, and I'll follow on as soon as there is any news."
As he spoke the door opened a little way and a head appeared, only to be
instantly withdrawn at the sight of so many people. Mr. Wilks stepped
forward hastily, and throwing the door wide open revealed the interesting
features of Mr. Nathan Smith.
"How do you do, Mr. Wilks?" said that gentleman, softly. "I just walked
round to see whether you was in. I've got a message for you. I didn't
know you'd got company."
He stepped into the room and, tapping the steward on the chest with a
confidential finger, backed him into a corner, and having got him there
gave an expressive wink with one eye and gazed into space with the other.
[Illustration: "Tapping the steward on the chest with a confidential
finger, he backed him into a corner."]
"I thought you'd be alone," he said, looking round, "but p'r'aps it's
just as well as it is. They've got to know, so they may as well know now
as later on."
"Know what?" inquired Jack Nugent, abruptly. "What are you making that
face for, Sam?"
Mr. Wilks mumbled something about a decayed tooth, and to give colour to
the statement continued a series of contortions which made his face ache.
"You should take something for that tooth," said the boarding-master,
with great solicitude. "Wot do you say to a glass o' whisky?"
He motioned to the fatal bottle, which still stood on the table; the
steward caught his breath, and then, rising to the occasion, said that he
had already had a couple of glasses, and they had done no good.
"What's your message?" inquired Jack Nugent, impatiently.
"I'm just going to tell you," said Mr. Smith. "I was out early this
morning, strolling down by the harbour to get a little appetite for
breakfast, when who should I see coming along, looking as though 'e 'ad
just come from a funeral, but Cap'n Nugent! I was going to pass 'im, but
he stopped me and asked me to take a message from 'im to 'is old and
faithful steward, Mr. Wilks."
"Why, has he gone away?" exclaimed Mrs. Kingdom.
"His old and faithful steward," repeated Mr. Smith, motioning her to
silence. "'Tell 'im,' he says, 'that I am heartily ashamed of myself for
wot took place last night--and him, too. Tell 'im that, after my
father's 'art proved too much for me, I walked the streets all night, and
now I can't face may injured son and family yet awhile, and I'm off to
London till it has blown over.'"
"But what's it all about?" demanded Nugent. Why don't you get to the
point?"
"So far as I could make out," replied Mr. Smith, with the studious care
of one who desires to give exact information, "Cap'n Nugent and Mr. Wilks
'ad a little plan for giving you a sea blow."
"Me?" interrupted the unfortunate steward. "Now, look 'ere, Nathan
Smith----"
"Them was the cap'n's words," said the boarding-master, giving him a
glance of great significance; "are you going to take away or add to wot
the cap'n says?"
Mr. Wilks collapsed, and avoiding the indignant eyes of the Nugent family
tried to think out his position.
"It seems from wot the cap'n told me," continued Mr. Smith, "that there
was some objection to your marrying old--Mr. Kybird's gal, so 'e and Mr.
Wilks, after putting their 'eads together, decided to get you 'ere and
after giving you a little whisky that Mr. Wilks knows the trick of--"
"Me?" interrupted the unfortunate steward, again.
"Them was the cap'n's words," said Mr. Smith, coldly. "After you'd 'ad
it they was going to stow you away in the Seabird, which sailed this
morning. However, when the cap'n see you overcome, his 'art melted, and
instead o' putting you aboard the whaler he took your feet and Mr. Wilks
your 'ead, and after a great deal o' trouble got you upstairs and put you
to bed."
"You miserable scoundrel," said the astonished Mr. Nugent, addressing the
shrinking steward; "you infernal old reprobate--you--you--I didn't think
you'd got it in you."
"So far as I could make out," said Mr. Smith, kindly, "Mr. Wilks was only
obeying orders. It was the cap'n's plan, and Mr. Wilks was aboard ship
with 'im for a very long time. O' course, he oughtn't to ha' done it,
but the cap'n's a masterful man, an' I can quite understand Mr. Wilks
givin' way; I dessay I should myself if I'd been in 'is place--he's all
'art, is Mr. Wilks--no 'ead."
"It's a good job for you you're an old man, Sam," said Mr. Nugent.
"I can hardly believe it of you, Sam," said Miss Nugent. "I can hardly
think you could have been so deceitful. Why, we've trusted you all our
lives."
The unfortunate steward quailed beneath the severity of her glance. Even
if he gave a full account of the affair it would not make his position
better. It was he who had made all the arrangements with Mr. Smith, and
after an indignant glance at that gentleman he lowered his gaze and
remained silent.
"It is rather odd that my father should take you into his confidence,"
said Miss Nugent, turning to the boarding-master.
"Just wot I thought, miss," said the complaisant Mr. Smith; "but I s'pose
there was nobody else, and he wanted 'is message to go for fear you
should get worrying the police about 'im or something. He wants it kep'
quiet, and 'is last words to me as 'e left me was, 'If this affair gets
known I shall never come back. Tell 'em to keep it quiet.'"
"I don't think anybody will want to go bragging about it," said Jack
Nugent, rising, "unless it is Sam Wilks. Come along, Kate."