Mr. John Blows stood listening to the foreman with an air of loftydisdain. He was a free-born Englishman, and yet he had been summarilypaid off at eleven o'clock in the morning and told that his valuableservices would no longer be required. More than that, the foreman hadpassed certain strictures upon his features which, however true theymight be, were quite irrelevant to the fact that Mr. Blows had beendiscovered slumbering in a shed when he should have been laying bricks.
"Take your ugly face off these 'ere works," said the foreman; "take it'ome and bury it in the back-yard. Anybody'll be glad to lend you aspade."
Mr. Blows, in a somewhat fluent reply, reflected severely on theforeman's immediate ancestors, and the strange lack of good-feeling andpublic spirit they had exhibited by allowing him to grow up.
"Take it 'ome and bury it," said the foreman again. "Not under anyplants you've got a liking for."
"I suppose," said Mr. Blows, still referring to his foe's parents, andnow endeavouring to make excuses for them--"I s'pose they was sopleased, and so surprised when they found that you was a 'uman being,that they didn't mind anything else."
He walked off with his head in the air, and the other men, who hadpartially suspended work to listen, resumed their labours. A modest pintat the Rising Sun revived his drooping spirits, and he walked homethinking of several things which he might have said to the foreman if hehad only thought of them in time.
He paused at the open door of his house and, looking in, sniffed at thesmell of mottled soap and dirty water which pervaded it. The stairs werewet, and a pail stood in the narrow passage. From the kitchen came thesounds of crying children and a scolding mother. Master Joseph HenryBlows, aged three, was "holding his breath," and the family were allaghast at the length of his performance. He re-covered it as his fatherentered the room, and drowned, without distressing himself, the impotentefforts of the others. Mrs. Blows turned upon her husband a look of hotinquiry.
"I've got the chuck," he said, surlily.
"What, again?" said the unfortunate woman. "Yes, again," repeated herhusband.
Mrs. Blows turned away, and dropping into a chair threw her apron overher head and burst into discordant weeping. Two little Blows, who hadceased their outcries, resumed them again from sheer sympathy.
"Stop it," yelled the indignant Mr. Blows; "stop it at once; d'ye hear?"
"I wish I'd never seen you," sobbed his wife from behind her apron. "Ofall the lazy, idle, drunken, good-for-nothing----"
"Go on," said Mr. Blows, grimly.
"You're more trouble than you're worth," declared Mrs. Blows. "Look atyour father, my dears," she continued, taking the apron away from herface; "take a good look at him, and mind you don't grow up like it."
Mr. Blows met the combined gaze of his innocent offspring with a darkscowl, and then fell to moodily walking up and down the passage until hefell over the pail. At that his mood changed, and, turning fiercely, hekicked that useful article up and down the passage until he was tired.
"I've 'ad enough of it," he muttered. He stopped at the kitchen-doorand, putting his hand in his pocket, threw a handful of change on to thefloor and swung out of the house.
Another pint of beer confirmed him in his resolution. He would go faraway and make a fresh start in the world. The morning was bright and theair fresh, and a pleasant sense of freedom and adventure possessed hissoul as he walked. At a swinging pace he soon left Gravelton behind him,and, coming to the river, sat down to smoke a final pipe before turninghis back forever on a town which had treated him so badly.
The river murmured agreeably and the rushes stirred softly in thebreeze; Mr. Blows, who could fall asleep on an upturned pail, succumbedto the influence at once; the pipe dropped from his mouth and he snoredpeacefully.
He was awakened by a choking scream, and, starting up hastily, lookedabout for the cause. Then in the water he saw the little white face ofBilly Clements, and wading in up to his middle he reached out and,catching the child by the hair, drew him to the bank and set him on hisfeet. Still screaming with terror, Billy threw up some of the water hehad swallowed, and without turning his head made off in the direction ofhome, calling piteously upon his mother.
Mr. Blows, shivering on the bank, watched him out of sight, and, missinghis cap, was just in time to see that friend of several seasons slowlysinking in the middle of the river. He squeezed the water from histrousers and, crossing the bridge, set off across the meadows.
His self-imposed term of bachelorhood lasted just three months, at theend of which time he made up his mind to enact the part of the generoushusband and forgive his wife everything. He would not go into details,but issue one big, magnanimous pardon.
Full of these lofty ideas he set off in the direction of home again. Itwas a three-days' tramp, and the evening of the third day saw him but abare two miles from home. He clambered up the bank at the side of theroad and, sprawling at his ease, smoked quietly in the moonlight.
A waggon piled up with straw came jolting and creaking toward him. Thedriver sat dozing on the shafts, and Mr. Blows smiled pleasantly as herecognised the first face of a friend he had seen for three months. Hethrust his pipe in his pocket and, rising to his feet, clambered on tothe back of the waggon, and lying face downward on the straw peered downat the unconscious driver below.
"I'll give old Joe a surprise," he said to himself. "He'll be the firstto welcome me back."
"Joe," he said, softly. "'Ow goes it, old pal?"
Mr. Joe Carter, still dozing, opened his eyes at the sound of his nameand looked round; then, coming to the conclusion that he had beendreaming, closed them again.
"I'm a-looking at you, Joe," said Mr. Blows, waggishly. "I can see you."
Mr. Carter looked up sharply and, catching sight of the grinningfeatures of Mr. Blows protruding over the edge of the straw, threw uphis arms with a piercing shriek and fell off the shafts on to the road.The astounded Mr. Blows, raising himself on his hands, saw him pickhimself up and, giving vent to a series of fearsome yelps, run clumsilyback along the road.
"Joe!" shouted Mr. Blows. "J-o-o-oE!"
Mr. Carter put his hands to his ears and ran on blindly, while hisfriend, sitting on the top of the straw, regarded his proceedings withmixed feelings of surprise and indignation.
"It can't be that tanner 'e owes me," he mused, "and yet I don't knowwhat else it can be. I never see a man so jumpy."
He continued to speculate while the old horse, undisturbed by thedriver's absence, placidly continued its journey. A mile farther,however, he got down to take the short cut by the fields.
"If Joe can't look after his 'orse and cart," he said, primly, as hewatched it along the road, "it's not my business."
The footpath was not much used at that time of night, and he only metone man. They were in the shadow of the trees which fringed the newcemetery as they passed, and both peered. The stranger was satisfiedfirst and, to Mr. Blows's growing indignation, first gave a leapbackward which would not have disgraced an acrobat, and then made offacross the field with hideous outcries.
"If I get 'old of some of you," said the offended Mr. Blows, "I'll giveyou something to holler for."
He pursued his way grumbling, and insensibly slackened his pace as hedrew near home. A remnant of conscience which had stuck to him withoutencouragement for thirty-five years persisted in suggesting that he hadbehaved badly. It also made a few ill-bred inquiries as to how his wifeand children had subsisted for the last three months. He stood outsidethe house for a short space, and then, opening the door softly, walkedin.
The kitchen-door stood open, and his wife in a black dress sat sewing bythe light of a smoky lamp. She looked up as she heard his footsteps, andthen, without a word, slid from the chair full length to the floor.
"Go on," said Mr. Blows, bitterly; "keep it up. Don't mind me."
Mrs. Blows paid no heed; her face was white and her eyes were closed.Her husband, with a dawning perception of the state of affairs, drew amug of water from the tap a
nd flung it over her. She opened her eyes andgave a faint scream, and then, scrambling to her feet, tottered towardhim and sobbed on his breast.
"There, there," said Mr. Blows. "Don't take on; I forgive you."
"Oh, John," said his wife, sobbing convulsively, "I thought you wasdead. I thought you was dead. It's only a fortnight ago since we buriedyou!"
"Buried me?" said the startled Mr. Blows. "Buried me?"
"I shall wake up and find I'm dreaming," wailed Mrs. Blows; "I know Ishall. I'm always dreaming that you're not dead. Night before last Idreamt that you was alive, and I woke up sobbing as if my 'art wouldbreak."
"Sobbing?" said Mr. Blows, with a scowl. "For joy, John," explained hiswife.
Mr. Blows was about to ask for a further explanation of the mystery whenhe stopped, and regarded with much interest a fair-sized cask whichstood in one corner.
"A cask o' beer," he said, staring, as he took a glass from the dresserand crossed over to it. "You don't seem to 'ave taken much 'arm duringmy--my going after work."
"We 'ad it for the funeral, John," said his wife; "leastways, we 'adtwo; this is the second."
Mr. Blows, who had filled the glass, set it down on the table untasted;things seemed a trifle uncanny.
"Go on," said Mrs. Blows; "you've got more right to it than anybodyelse. Fancy 'aving you here drinking up the beer for your own funeral."
"I don't understand what you're a-driving at," retorted Mr. Blows,drinking somewhat gingerly from the glass. "'Ow could there be a funeralwithout me?"
"It's all a mistake," said the overjoyed Mrs. Blows; "we must haveburied somebody else. But such a funeral, John; you would ha' been proudif you could ha' seen it. All Gravelton followed, nearly. There was theboys' drum and fife band, and the Ancient Order of Camels, what you usedto belong to, turned out with their brass band and banners--all thepeople marching four abreast and sometimes five."
Mr. Blows's face softened; he had no idea that he had establishedhimself so firmly in the affections of his fellow-townsmen.
"Four mourning carriages," continued his wife, "and the--the hearse, allcovered in flowers so that you couldn't see it 'ardly. One wreath costtwo pounds."
Mr. Blows endeavoured to conceal his gratification beneath a mask ofsurliness. "Waste o' money," he growled, and stooping to the cask drewhimself an-other glass of beer.
"Some o' the gentry sent their carriages to follow," said Mrs. Blows,sitting down and clasping her hands in her lap.
"I know one or two that 'ad a liking for me," said Mr. Blows, almostblushing.
"And to think that it's all a mistake," continued his wife. "But Ithought it was you; it was dressed like you, and your cap was found nearit."
"H'm," said Mr. Blows; "a pretty mess you've been and made of it. Here'speople been giving two pounds for wreaths and turning up with brassbands and banners because they thought it was me, and it's all beenwasted."
"It wasn't my fault," said his wife. "Little Billy Clements came running'ome the day you went away and said 'e'd fallen in the water, and you'dgone in and pulled 'im out. He said 'e thought you was drownded, andwhen you didn't come 'ome I naturally thought so too. What else could Ithink?"
Mr. Blows coughed, and holding his glass up to the light regarded itwith a preoccupied air.
"They dragged the river," resumed his wife, "and found the cap, but theydidn't find the body till nine weeks afterward. There was a inquest atthe Peal o' Bells, and I identified you, and all that grand funeral wasbecause they thought you'd lost your life saving little Billy. They saidyou was a hero."
"You've made a nice mess of it," repeated Mr. Blows.
"The rector preached the sermon," continued his wife; "a beautifulsermon it was, too. I wish you'd been there to hear it; I should 'aveenjoyed it ever so much better. He said that nobody was more surprisedthan what 'e was at your doing such a thing, and that it only showed 'owlittle we knowed our fellow-creatures. He said that it proved there wasgood in all of us if we only gave it a chance to come out."
Mr. Blows eyed her suspiciously, but she sat thinking and staring at thefloor.
"I s'pose we shall have to give the money back now," she said, at last.
"Money!" said the other; "what money?"
"Money that was collected for us," replied his wife. "One 'undered andeighty-three pounds seven shillings and fourpence."
Mr. Blows took a long breath. "Ow much?" he said, faintly; "say itagin."
His wife obeyed.
"Show it to me," said the other, in trembling tones; "let's 'ave a lookat it. Let's 'old some of it."
"I can't," was the reply; "there's a committee of the Camels took chargeof it, and they pay my rent and allow me ten shillings a week. Now Is'pose it'll have to be given back?"
"Don't you talk nonsense," said Mr. Blows, violently. "You go to theminterfering Camels and say you want your money--all of it. Say you'regoing to Australia. Say it was my last dying wish."
Mrs. Blows puckered her brow.
"I'll keep quiet upstairs till you've got it," continued her husband,rapidly. "There was only two men saw me, and I can see now that theythought I was my own ghost. Send the kids off to your mother for a fewdays."
His wife sent them off next morning, and a little later was able to tellhim that his surmise as to his friends' mistake was correct. AllGravelton was thrilled by the news that the spiritual part of Mr. JohnBlows was walking the earth, and much exercised as to his reasons for sodoing.
"Seemed such a monkey trick for 'im to do," complained Mr. Carter, tothe listening circle at the Peal o' Bells. "'I'm a-looking at you, Joe,'he ses, and he waggled his 'ead as if it was made of india-rubber."
"He'd got something on 'is mind what he wanted to tell you," said alistener, severely; "you ought to 'ave stopped, Joe, and asked 'im whatit was."
"I think I see myself," said the shivering Mr. Carter. "I think I seemyself."
"Then he wouldn't 'ave troubled you any more," said the other.
Mr. Carter turned pale and eyed him fixedly. "P'r'aps it was only adeath-warning," said another man.
"What d'ye mean, 'only a death-warning'?" demanded the unfortunate Mr.Carter; "you don't know what you're talking about."
"I 'ad an uncle o' mine see a ghost once," said a third man, anxious torelieve the tension.
"And what 'appened?" inquired the first speaker. "I'll tell you afterJoe's gone," said the other, with rare consideration.
Mr. Carter called for some more beer and told the barmaid to put alittle gin in it. In a pitiable state of "nerves" he sat at the extremeend of a bench, and felt that he was an object of unwholesome interestto his acquaintances. The finishing touch was put to his discomfiturewhen a well-meaning friend in a vague and disjointed way advised him togive up drink, swearing, and any other bad habits which he might havecontracted.
The committee of the Ancient Order of Camels took the news calmly, andclassed it with pink rats and other abnormalities. In reply to Mrs.Blows's request for the capital sum, they expressed astonishment thatshe could be willing to tear herself away from the hero's grave, andspoke of the pain which such an act on her part would cause him in theevent of his being conscious of it. In order to show that they werereasonable men, they allowed her an extra shilling that week.
The hero threw the dole on the bedroom floor, and in a speech bristlingwith personalities, consigned the committee to perdition. Theconfinement was beginning to tell upon him, and two nights afterward,just before midnight, he slipped out for a breath of fresh air.
It was a clear night, and all Gravelton with one exception, appeared tohave gone to bed. The exception was Police-constable Collins, and he,after tracking the skulking figure of Mr. Blows and finally bringing itto bay in a doorway, kept his for a fort-night. As a sensible man, Mr.Blows took no credit to himself for the circumstance, but a naturalfeeling of satisfaction at the discomfiture of a member of a force forwhich he had long entertained a strong objection could not be denied.
Gravelton debated this
new appearance with bated breath, and even thepurblind committee of the Camels had to alter their views. They nolonger denied the supernatural nature of the manifestations, but, with astrange misunderstanding of Mr. Blows's desires, attributed hisrestlessness to dissatisfaction with the projected tombstone, and,having plenty of funds, amended their order for a plain stone at tenguineas to one in pink marble at twenty-five.
"That there committee," said Mr. Blows to his wife, in a tremblingvoice, as he heard of the alteration--"that there committee seem tothink that they can play about with my money as they like. You go andtell 'em you won't 'ave it. And say you've given up the idea of going toAustralia and you want the money to open a shop with. We'll take alittle pub somewhere."
Mrs. Blows went, and returned in tears, and for two entire days herhusband, a prey to gloom, sat trying to evolve fresh and original ideasfor the possession of the money. On the evening of the second day hebecame low-spirited, and going down to the kitchen took a glass from thedresser and sat down by the beer-cask.
Almost insensibly he began to take a brighter view of things. It wasSaturday night and his wife was out. He shook his head indulgently as hethought of her, and began to realise how foolish he had been to entrustsuch a delicate mission to a woman. The Ancient Order of Camels wanted aman to talk to them--a man who knew the world and could assail them withunanswerable arguments. Having applied every known test to make surethat the cask was empty, he took his cap from a nail and sallied outinto the street.
Old Mrs. Martin, a neighbour, saw him first, and announced the fact witha scream that brought a dozen people round her. Bereft of speech, shemouthed dumbly at Mr. Blows.
"I ain't touch--touched her," said that gentleman, earnestly. "I ain't--been near 'er."
The crowd regarded him wild-eyed. Fresh members came running up, andpushing for a front place fell back hastily on the main body and watchedbreathlessly. Mr. Blows, disquieted by their silence, renewed hisprotestations.
"I was coming 'long----"
He broke off suddenly and, turning round, gazed with some heat at agentleman who was endeavouring to ascertain whether an umbrella wouldpass through him. The investigator backed hastily into the crowd again,and a faint murmur of surprise arose as the indignant Mr. Blows rubbedthe place.
"He's alive, I tell you," said a voice. "What cheer, Jack!"
"Ullo, Bill," said Mr. Blows, genially.
Bill came forward cautiously, and, first shaking hands, satisfiedhimself by various little taps and prods that his friend was reallyalive.
"It's all right," he shouted; "come and feel."
At least fifty hands accepted the invitation, and, ignoring the threatsand entreaties of Mr. Blows, who was a highly ticklish subject, wanderedbriskly over his anatomy. He broke free at last and, supported by Billand a friend, set off for the Peal o' Bells.
By the time he arrived there his following had swollen to immenseproportions. Windows were thrown up, and people standing on theirdoorsteps shouted inquiries. Congratulations met him on all sides, andthe joy of Mr. Joseph Carter was so great that Mr. Blows was quiteaffected.
In high feather at the attention he was receiving, Mr. Blows pushed hisway through the idlers at the door and ascended the short flight ofstairs which led to the room where the members of the Ancient Order ofCamels were holding their lodge. The crowd swarmed up after him.
The door was locked, but in response to his knocking it opened a coupleof inches, and a gruff voice demanded his business. Then, before hecould give it, the doorkeeper reeled back into the room, and Mr. Blowswith a large following pushed his way in.
The president and his officers, who were sitting in state behind a longtable at the end of the room, started to their feet with mingled criesof indignation and dismay at the intrusion. Mr. Blows, conscious of thestrength of his position, walked up to them.
"Mr. Blows!" gasped the president.
"Ah, you didn't expec' see me," said Mr. Blows, with a scornful laugh"They're trying do me, do me out o' my lill bit o' money, Bill."
"But you ain't got no money," said his bewildered friend.
Mr. Blows turned and eyed him haughtily; then he confronted the staringpresident again.
"I've come for--my money," he said, impressively--"one 'under-eightypounds."
"But look 'ere," said the scandalised Bill, tugging at his sleeve; "youain't dead, Jack."
"You don't understan'," said Mr. Blows, impatiently. "They know wharrimean; one 'undereighty pounds. They want to buy me a tombstone, an' Idon't want it. I want the money. Here, stop it! Dye hear?" The wordswere wrung from him by the action of the president, who, after eyeinghim doubtfully during his remarks, suddenly prodded him with thebutt-end of one of the property spears which leaned against his chair.The solidity of Mr. Blows was unmistakable, and with a sudden resumptionof dignity the official seated himself and called for silence.
"I'm sorry to say there's been a bit of a mistake made," he said,slowly, "but I'm glad to say that Mr. Blows has come back to support hiswife and family with the sweat of his own brow. Only a pound or two ofthe money so kindly subscribed has been spent, and the remainder will behanded back to the subscribers."
"Here," said the incensed Mr. Blows, "listen me."
"Take him away," said the president, with great dignity. "Clear theroom. Strangers outside."
Two of the members approached Mr. Blows and, placing their hands on hisshoulders, requested him to withdraw. He went at last, the centre of adozen panting men, and becoming wedged on the narrow staircase, spokefluently on such widely differing subjects as the rights of man and theshape of the president's nose.
He finished his remarks in the street, but, becoming aware at last of astrange lack of sympathy on the part of his audience, he shook off thearm of the faithful Mr. Carter and stalked moodily home.
THE THIRD STRING