Produced by David Widger
DEEP WATERS
By W.W. JACOBS
MADE TO MEASURE
Mr. Mott brought his niece home from the station with considerable pride.Although he had received a photograph to assist identification, he hadbeen very dubious about accosting the pretty, well-dressed girl who hadstepped from the train and gazed around with dove-like eyes in search ofhim. Now he was comfortably conscious of the admiring gaze of hisyounger fellow-townsmen.
"You'll find it a bit dull after London, I expect," he remarked, as heinserted his key in the door of a small house in a quiet street.
"I'm tired of London," said Miss Garland. "I think this is a beautifullittle old town--so peaceful."
Mr. Mott looked gratified.
"I hope you'll stay a long time," he said, as he led the way into thesmall front room. "I'm a lonely old man."
His niece sank into an easy chair, and looked about her.
"Thank you," she said, slowly. "I hope I shall. I feel better already.There is so much to upset one in London."
"Noise?" queried Mr. Mott.
"And other things," said Miss Garland, with a slight shudder.
Mr. Mott sighed in sympathy with the unknown, and, judging by his niece'sexpression, the unknowable. He rearranged the teacups, and, going to thekitchen, returned in a few minutes with a pot of tea.
"Mrs. Pett leaves at three," he said, in explanation, "to look after herchildren, but she comes back again at eight to look after my supper. Andhow is your mother?"
Miss Garland told him.
"Last letter I had from her," said Mr. Mott, stealing a glance at thegirl's ring-finger, "I understood you were engaged."
His niece drew herself up.
"Certainly not," she said, with considerable vigour. "I have seen toomuch of married life. I prefer my freedom. Besides, I don't like men."
Mr. Mott said modestly that he didn't wonder at it, and, finding thesubject uncongenial, turned the conversation on to worthier subjects.Miss Garland's taste, it seemed, lay in the direction of hospitalnursing, or some other occupation beneficial to mankind at large. Simpleand demure, she filled the simpler Mr. Mott with a strong sense of theshortcomings of his unworthy sex.
Within two days, under the darkling glance of Mrs. Pett, she had alteredthe arrangements of the house. Flowers appeared on the meal-table,knives and forks were properly cleaned, and plates no longer appearedornamented with the mustard of a previous meal. Fresh air circulatedthrough the house, and, passing from Mrs. Pett's left knee to the lumbarregion of Mr. Mott, went on its beneficent way rejoicing.
On the fifth day of her visit, Mr. Mott sat alone in the front parlour.The window was closed, the door was closed, and Mr. Mott, sitting in aneasy chair with his feet up, was aroused from a sound nap by the dooropening to admit a young man, who, deserted by Mrs. Pett, stood bowingawkwardly in the doorway.
"Is Miss Garland in?" he stammered.
Mr. Mott rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyelids.
"She has gone for a walk," he said, slowly.
The young man stood fingering his hat.
"My name is Hurst," he said, with slight emphasis. "Mr. Alfred Hurst."
Mr. Mott, still somewhat confused, murmured that he was glad to hear it.
"I have come from London to see Florrie," continued the intruder. "Isuppose she won't be long?"
Mr. Mott thought not, and after a moment's hesitation invited Mr. Hurstto take a chair.
"I suppose she told you we are engaged?" said the latter.
"Engaged!" said the startled Mr. Mott. "Why, she told me she didn't likemen."
"Playfulness," replied Mr. Hurst, with an odd look. "Ah, here she is!"
The handle of the front door turned, and a moment later the door of theroom was opened and the charming head of Miss Garland appeared in theopening.
"Back again," she said, brightly. "I've just been----"
She caught sight of Mr. Hurst, and the words died away on her lips. Thedoor slammed, and the two gentlemen, exchanging glances, heard a hurriedrush upstairs and the slamming of another door. Also a key was heard toturn sharply in a lock.
"She doesn't want to see you," said Mr. Mott, staring.
The young man turned pale.
"Perhaps she has gone upstairs to take her things off," he muttered,resuming his seat. "Don't--don't hurry her!"
"I wasn't going to," said Mr. Mott.
He twisted his beard uneasily, and at the end of ten minutes looked fromthe clock to Mr. Hurst and coughed.
"If you wouldn't mind letting her know I'm waiting," said the young man,brokenly.
Mr. Mott rose, and went slowly upstairs. More slowly still, after aninterval of a few minutes, he came back again.
"She doesn't want to see you," he said, slowly.
Mr. Hurst gasped.
"I--I must see her," he faltered.
"She won't see you," repeated Mr. Mott. "And she told me to say she wassurprised at you following her down here."
Mr. Hurst uttered a faint moan, and with bent head passed into the littlepassage and out into the street, leaving Mr. Mott to return to thesitting-room and listen to such explanations as Miss Garland deemedadvisable. Great goodness of heart in the face of persistent andunwelcome attentions appeared to be responsible for the late engagement.
"Well, it's over now," said her uncle, kindly, "and no doubt he'll soonfind somebody else. There are plenty of girls would jump at him, Iexpect."
Miss Garland shook her head.
"He said he couldn't live without me," she remarked, soberly.
Mr. Mott laughed.
"In less than three months I expect he'll be congratulating himself," hesaid, cheerfully. "Why, I was nearly cau--married, four times. It's asilly age."
His niece said "Indeed!" and, informing him in somewhat hostile tonesthat she was suffering from a severe headache, retired to her room.
Mr. Mott spent the evening by himself, and retiring to bed at ten-thirtywas awakened by a persistent knocking at the front door at half-past one.Half awakened, he lit a candle, and, stumbling downstairs, drew back thebolt of the door, and stood gaping angrily at the pathetic features ofMr. Hurst.
"Sorry to disturb you," said the young man, "but would you mind givingthis letter to Miss Garland?"
"Sorry to disturb me!" stuttered Mr. Mott. "What do you mean by it? Eh?What do you mean by it?"
"It is important," said Mr. Hurst. "I can't rest. I've eaten nothingall day."
"Glad to hear it," snapped the irritated Mr. Mott.
"If you will give her that letter, I shall feel easier," said Mr. Hurst.
"I'll give it to her in the morning," said the other, snatching it fromhim. "Now get off."
Mr. Hurst still murmuring apologies, went, and Mr. Mott, also murmuring,returned to bed. The night was chilly, and it was some time before hecould get to sleep again. He succeeded at last, only to be awakened anhour later by a knocking more violent than before. In a state of mindbordering upon frenzy, he dived into his trousers again and wentblundering downstairs in the dark.
"Sorry to--" began Mr. Hurst.
Mr. Mott made uncouth noises at him.
"I have altered my mind," said the young man. "Would you mind letting mehave that letter back again? It was too final."
"You--get--off !" said the other, trembling with cold and passion.
"I must have that letter," said Mr. Hurst, doggedly. "All my futurehappiness may depend upon it."
Mr. Mott, afraid to trust himself with speech, dashed upstairs, and aftera search for the matches found the letter, and, returning to the frontdoor, shut it on the visitor's thanks. His niece's door opened as hepassed it, and a gentle voice asked for enli
ghtenment.
"How silly of him!" she said, softly. "I hope he won't catch cold.What did you say?"
"I was coughing," said Mr. Mott, hastily.
"You'll get cold if you're not careful," said his thoughtful niece."That's the worst of men, they never seem to have any thought. Did heseem angry, or mournful, or what? I suppose you couldn't see his face?"
"I didn't try," said Mr. Mott, crisply. "Good night."
By the morning his ill-humour had vanished, and he even became slightlyfacetious over the events of the night. The