CHAPTER SEVEN.
FOUND!
Meanwhile, what had become of the grey kitten? To learn this we must goback to the time when it began its life in the tinsmith's house atUpwell under the care of old Sally's Eliza. It was kept in the kitchenat first, but by degrees, as it got used to the place, it was allowed torun about where it liked, and its favourite room was the little backparlour opening into the shop. Now the shop was forbidden ground, andit was always chased back if it tried to enter: so perhaps it was forthis very reason that it seemed to have fixed its mind on doing it, andone afternoon the chance came. Its mistress was busy behind the counterserving some customers: the parlour door was open; no one noticed thegrey kitten, and it marched boldly in.
Pleased to find itself in the midst of so many new and shining things,it played about happily for some time, trying to catch the merry shadowyfigures which danced on all the bright surfaces around. It was greatfun at first, to make springs and dashes at them with its soft littlepaws, but finding they were never to be caught, it got tired, and lookedabout for fresh amusement. Unluckily its eye fell on the open doorleading into the busy street, and without a thought of fear it trottedout, and cantered, tail on high, gaily down the pavement.
Too young to understand that it was in the midst of dangers, it sawnothing to alarm, and much that was amusing in all it passed. Now andthen it stopped on its way to play with a straw, or chase a fly, and bydegrees got a long distance from the tinsmith's shop. It was now latein the afternoon, a drizzling rain had begun to fall, and it was so dulland cold that it was almost like winter. The kitten began to feel wetand miserable. It looked round for shelter and warmth, shook one littledamp paw, and gave a tiny mew.
"Hulloa!" cried a rough loud voice, "what's this?" A rough hand graspedit, and held it up high above the ground.
A troop of boys was pouring out from a school-house near, shouting,whistling, calling out to each other, and making the place echo withtheir noise. The one who had seized the kitten was a big stout fellowof about fourteen, with red hair and small greenish eyes.
"Who wants a cat to make into pies?" he bawled at the top of his voice,holding his prize above the crowd of boys who gathered round him. Thekitten, its little weak body dangling helplessly, turned its terrifiedeyes downwards on all the eager faces.
"Who'll buy?" cried the boy again.
"Mi-auw," said the kitten piteously.
"Give yer five marbles for it, Bill!"
"Give yer tuppence."
"Give yer a lump of hardbake."
One after another the shrill voices sounded above the general noise andclatter, but Bill shook his head.
"Not near enough," he said; "and come to think of it, I shall keep itmyself, and have some sport with it. We'll have a cat-chase, sure's myname's Bill."
As he spoke, another boy joined the group. He was much smaller thanBill, slight and thin, with a brown face and very twinkling dark eyes.His clothes were poor, and there was more than one hole in the raggedjacket buttoned tightly round him.
"I'll give yer my knife for't, Bill," he said quickly.
This was a good offer. Bill hesitated; but casting a glance at theboy's dark eager face, he exclaimed:
"Ah, it's you, is it, Dan Tuvvy; then don't you wish you may get it?I'll just keep it myself."
"'Tain't yourn," said Dan shrilly.
"'Tain't yourn, anyhow," said Bill, with a glare in his green eyes.
The small boy's features worked with excitement. "I'll fight yer forit, then," he said, doubling his fists, and at this there was a loudlaugh from the others, for he was about half Bill's size.
"Go it, Tuvvy," cried one, patting him on the back; "go in and win."
"I ain't a-goin' to fight a little chap like you," said Bill, moving offsullenly with the kitten under his arm. "So don't you think it."
"You give me the cat, then," said Dan, following him. "'Ere's my knife,with three blades, and on'y one broke."
"Git out with yer," said Bill contemptuously. "I tell yer I'm a-goin'to have a cat-chase with this 'ere kitten. So no more bother about it."
"You're afraid," snarled Dan, running along by his side. "I wouldn't bea big chap like you, and be afraid--that I wouldn't."
"Take that, then," said Bill, turning suddenly, "if you _will_ have it;"and he gave the small boy a blow which struck him to the ground.
In a moment he was up again, quite undaunted.
"Come on, then," he cried, doubling his fists and dancing round hisenemy, "if you _aren't_ afraid."
"A fight! a fight!" sounded from all sides; and there seemed no doubt ofit, for Bill's temper was roused.
"Ketch 'old for a minnit," he said, holding out the kitten, for which adozen grimy hands were outstretched; "'twon't take long--"
So all the boys thought. It would be short but exciting, for the twowere old enemies, and likely to fight with spirit. They placedthemselves in a ring, with hoarse shouts of encouragement and approval,and the fight began; the kitten adding its plaintive mew from time totime to the general noise.
At first it seemed that one blow from Bill's heavy hand would be enoughto finish the affair; but it was soon evident that Dan's lean figure andnimble movements were greatly to his advantage. He sprang about in sucha swift and agile manner, that he seemed everywhere at once; and whileBill was turning to deal a blow, or to catch hold of him, he had duckedhis small black head and escaped. Buttoned tightly in his narrowjacket, which he had not taken off, his straight thin figure offerednothing for the hand to grasp, so that it was like trying to lay hold ofa wriggling, slippery eel. It was certainly a much better fight thancould have been expected from the unequal size of the rivals, and Bill'sface grew a deep red, as much with rage as with his vain efforts toclose with Dan, who skipped round him breathless but full of spirit.Suddenly, however, while the excitement was at its height, there came acry of alarm from the onlookers, "The bobby! the bobby!"
A blue uniform turned the corner. The crowd split up, and vanished likemagic as the policeman came towards them. Bill turned away sulkily, andDan seizing the kitten, which had been dropped on the ground, ran off atthe top of his speed.
Without turning his head, to see if his enemy was in pursuit, he speddown the street past the school-house, clasping the kitten to hisbreast. Soon he had left the shops and busy part of the town behindhim, and reached the outskirts, where the houses were poor and mean, andthere were ragged people standing about on the door-steps. He gave aquick glance over his shoulder now, and seeing no sign of Bill or thepoliceman, slackened his pace, loosened the tight pressure of his handon the kitten, and stroked it gently.
"Poor little kit," he said, "nice little kit. How pleased Becky'll bewith it."
It was hard to say whether Dan or the kitten was most exhausted by allthey had been through. His fight, his rapid run, and the excitement ofthe whole affair had made him so breathless, that he was glad to leanagainst a lamp-post and pant. As for the grey kitten, it lay almostlifeless on his breast, its eyes closed, its little body quite limp, andits heart beating so faintly that it could hardly be felt. The boylooked down at it with pity.
"Looks pretty bad," he murmured; "they've mauled it about so. P'r'aps adrop of milk would set it up."
Urged by this thought, he made an effort to go on again at a slowerpace, still panting a good deal, and presently reached a row of smallcottages, one of which he entered. A child's voice from a dark cornerof the poorly-furnished kitchen cried, as he opened the door, "Mother,it ain't father; it's Dan;" and a woman, who was bending over a pot onthe fire, turned towards him.
"Well," she said fretfully, "what makes _you_ so late? It's bad enoughto have your father coming in at all hours and wanting his supper."
Dan made no answer, but hurried up to the corner from which the child'svoice had sounded. "See here, Becky," he said softly; "see what I'vebrought you!"
The child, a girl of about eight years old, raised herself eagerly onthe hard couc
h on which she was lying. She was very like Dan, with thesame brown skin and dark eyes, but the eyes had no merry twinkle inthem. Her face was thin and drawn, and had the appealing look whichcomes of suffering borne with patience.
"Is it a rabbit, Dan?" she asked, peering at the soft furry thing in herbrother's arms.
"It's a little cat," said Dan, putting the kitten gently down by herside, "as Bill was going to ill-treat."
Becky touched the kitten with her thin fingers. "Its eyes is shut," shesaid. "Oh Dan, I'm feared it's dead."
The woman had now drawn near to look at the kitten too. She had a fairskin and very pale blue eyes, which were always wide open, as though shewere surprised at something; when this expression changed, it became afretful one, which had also got into the tone of her voice.
"Give us a drop o' milk, mother," said Dan; "that'll do it good."
"Milk indeed!" said Mrs Tuvvy; "and what next? Where's the money tocome from to buy milk for cats, when goodness knows if we shall soonhave bit or drop to put into our own mouths?"
Neither of the children took any notice of their mother's remarks, oranswered the questions which she continued to put.
"How do you suppose we're going to live, now yer father's got turnedoff? Who's a-goin' to pay the doctor's bill, I should like to know?"
Dan rose and fetched from the table a small basin covered with a saucer.
"That's yer supper," said Mrs Tuvvy mournfully. "You ain't never goin'to give it to the cat! Well, you won't get no more."
Dan knelt by the couch, and tried to put a little warm milk into thekitten's mouth with the spoon, but its teeth were firmly shut.
"You open its mouth, Dan, and I'll feed it," said Becky eagerly."There, it swallowed that--now some more. See; it's better already."
For the kitten had opened its eyes, and given itself a little stretch.Soon it was able to lap some milk out of the saucer, and to eat somecrumbled bread.
"Ain't it a little dear?" said Becky, her thin face lighted up withpleasure. "Oh Dan, it's purring! It must be quite well, mustn't it?"
"I expect it'll want a good long sleep first," said Dan, looking gravelyat the kitten, which had curled itself up by Becky's side, and begun afaint little song of thankfulness; "it's been through a deal."
He took his neglected supper, and sat down to eat it at the foot ofBecky's couch, while Mrs Tuvvy returned to her cooking at the fire,still grumbling half aloud. There was not much bread and milk, and Dan,who always had a good appetite, was unusually hungry after his exertionsthat afternoon. He had been through a deal, as well as the kitten. Butby dint of talking to his sister between each spoonful, he managed toeke out the meal, and make it seem much more. Becky listened with themost eager interest, meanwhile, to all the details of the fight, thepoliceman, and the escape of Dan with the kitten. When there was nomore to tell, and very little more to eat, she leaned back on her couchand sighed.
"He's a reg'lar bad un, that Bill!" she said presently. "Will he wantto fight again?"
Dan shook his head. "I shan't come across him no more," he said; "notnow I'm going to a place."
"I forgot," said Becky wearily. "Oh Dan, how long the days'll be whenyou don't come home to dinner. Whatever shall I do?"
"Why," said Dan soothingly, "you won't be alone now. You'll have thekit."
Becky gave a faint little smile.
"I mean to get you a good long bit of string," went on Dan, "and tie acork to the end, and then, you see, you'll bounce it about for the kitto play with, and carry on fine, without moving."
"I suppose it'll get to know me after a bit, won't it?" said Becky,evidently pleased with Dan's idea.
"Just about," answered her brother decidedly. Becky looked down fondlyat the small grey form on her arm.
"Dr Price's dogs came in with him to-day," she said, "but they mustn'tcome in no more now. They'd worry it to death. Mother told himto-day," she added in a lower tone, "as how she couldn't pay his bill,because of father."
"What did he say?" asked Dan.
"He said, `That's a bad job, Mrs Tuvvy, but it can't be helped.'"
"Did he say you were getting better?" asked Dan again, scraping hisbasin carefully round with his spoon.
"He said I wanted plenty of rest, and plenty of nourishing food," saidBecky. "What's nourishing food, Dan?"
"Nice things," said Dan, balancing his spoon on the edge of his basin,and smacking his hungry lips; "chickens, and jellies, and pies, and suchlike."
"Oh," said Becky, with a patient sigh. "Well, we shan't have no moneyat all now, so we can't get any of 'em."
"I shall get six shillings a week when I begin work," said Dan; "andthere's what mother gets charing. But then there's the rent, you see,and father getting nothing--"
He broke off, for the door opened, and Tuvvy himself appeared with hisbasket of tools on his shoulder. The children looked at him silently ashe flung himself into a chair, but his wife began immediately in a toneof mild reproachfulness.
"Yer supper's been waiting this ever so long, and it wasn't much toboast of to begin with, but there--I s'pose we may be thankful to get abit of dry bread now."
She poured the contents of the saucepan into a dish, sighing andlamenting over it as she did so.
"'Tain't what I've been used to, as was always brought up respectable,and have done my duty to the children. And there's the doctor's bill--Is'pose he won't come to see Becky no more till that's paid--and thereshe is on her back a cripple, as you may call it, for life p'r'aps. Andwhat is it you mean to turn to, now you've lost a good place?"
As long as there was a mouthful of his supper left, Tuvvy preserved astrict silence; but when his plate was empty, he pushed it away, andsaid grimly, "Gaffer's goin' to let me stop on."
"Stop on!" repeated Mrs Tuvvy. She stopped short in her progress acrossthe kitchen, and let the empty plate she was carrying fall helplessly ather side. "Stop on!" she repeated.
"Ain't I said so?" answered Tuvvy, pressing down the tobacco in his pipewith his thumb.
Mrs Tuvvy seemed incapable of further speech, and stood gazing at herhusband with her mouth partly open. It was Becky who exclaimed, with afaint colour of excitement in her cheek, "Oh father, what made him?"
"Do tell us, father," added Dan, touching him gently on the arm.
Tuvvy looked round at the boy's earnest face, and then down at thetable, and began to draw figures on it with the stem of his pipe. MrsTuvvy hovered a little nearer, and Becky sat upright on her couch, witheagerness in her eyes as her father began to speak.
"It was along of a little gentleman, Dennis Chester his name is, whoused to come and see me work. He asked the gaffer, and gaffer said`No.' So then he says, `Will you let him stop,' says he, `if the othersare agreeable?' and to that the gaffer says neither yes nor no. Butthis morning he sends for me, and `Tuvvy,' he says, `I've had a RoundRobin about you.' `And what sort of a bird is that, master?' says I.`'Tain't a bird at all,' he says, `it's this,' and then he showed itme."
"What ever was it?" asked Dan, as his father paused.
Tuvvy made a large circle in the air with the stem of his pipe.
"'Twas a round drawed like that on a bit of card, and inside of it waswrote as follers: `We which have signed our names, ask Mr Solace to keepMr Tuvvy in his service.' All the men's names was round the outside,and the little gentleman's name as well."
"What did Mr Solace say?" asked Dan.
"He said, `You ain't deserved it, Tuvvy.'"
"No more yer 'ave," said Mrs Tuvvy, regaining her speech.
"But," continued her husband, "the gaffer went on to say that, along ofMaster Chester, who'd taken such a lot of trouble, he'd give me anotherchance. So that's all about it."
"And in all my born days," broke out Mrs Tuvvy, "I never heard ofanything so singuller. Whatever made Master Chester take such a fancyto _you_, I wonder?"
"So I'm to stop on," continued Tuvvy, putting his pipe in his mouth, andturning his back on hi
s wife.
"And I hope," said poor Mrs Tuvvy, beginning to cry a little from therelief of the good news, "I _do_ hope, Benjamin, as it'll be a lesson asyou'll take to 'art, and keep away from the drink; and if ever a man hadreason to keep steady, you 'ave, with Dan growin' up, and Becky'sdoctor's bill to pay, and--" Mrs Tuvvy did not speak angrily, or raiseher voice above a soft complaining drawl; but it seemed to have adisturbing effect upon her husband, who, when she reached this point,sprang up and flung himself towards the door.
"Look, father," said Becky's childish voice from her corner. "See herewhat Dan's brought me!"
"Filling the house with cats and dogs and rubbish," mourned Mrs Tuvvy,joining the remark to her interrupted sentence.
"We ain't got no dogs, anyhow, mother," said Dan, as his father turnedfrom the door and went up to Becky's side; "a morsel of a kitten won'teat much. She'll have a bit of my supper till she's older, and thenshe'll catch mice and get her own living."