Read Quicksilver: The Boy With No Skid to His Wheel Page 6


  CHAPTER SIX.

  A QUICKSILVER GLOBULE.

  "Well, papa?" she said, looking into his face in a half-amused way.

  "Well, Helen," said the doctor, taking her hand and drawing her to him;"about this boy?"

  "Yes, dear. You have made up your mind to adopt and bring one up," shesaid, in a low tone which the lad could not hear.

  "Yes," said the doctor, taking his tone from her, "to turn the rawmaterial into the polished cultured article."

  "But of course you will take this one back, and select another!"

  "And pray why!" said the doctor sharply.

  "I thought--I thought--" faltered Helen.

  "Oh, nonsense! Better for proving my theory."

  "Yes, papa, but--"

  "A little wild and rough, that's all; boy-like; high-spirited; rightstuff in him."

  "No doubt, papa; but he is so very rough."

  "Then we'll use plenty of sand-paper and make him smooth. Moralsand-paper. Capital boy, my dear. Had a deal of trouble in gettinghim--by George! the young wolf! He has finished that cake."

  "Then you really mean to keep him, papa?" said Helen, glancing at theboy, where he sat diligently picking up a few crumbs and a currant whichhe had dropped.

  "Mean to keep him? Now, my dear Helen, when did you ever know meundertake anything, and not carry it out!"

  "Never, papa."

  "Then I am not going to begin now. There is the boy."

  "Yes, papa," said Helen rather sadly; "there is the boy."

  "I mean to make him a gentleman, and I must ask you to help me with thepoor orphan--"

  "He is an orphan, then!" said Helen quickly.

  "Yes. Son of some miserable tramp who died in the casual ward."

  "How dreadful!" said Helen, glancing once more at the boy, who caughther eye, and smiled in a way which made his face light up, and illuminedthe sallow cheeks and dull white pinched look.

  "Dreadful? Couldn't be better for my theory, my dear."

  "Very well, papa," said Helen quietly; "I will help you all I can."

  "I knew you would, my dear," said the doctor warmly; "and I prophesythat you will be proud of your work, and so shall I. Now, then, tobegin," he added loudly.

  "All in--all in--all in!" shouted the boy, jumping up like agrasshopper, and preparing to go through some fresh gymnastic feat.

  "Ah! ah! Sit down, sir. How dare you!" shouted the doctor; and the boydropped into his seat again, and sat like a mouse.

  "There!" said the doctor softly; "there's obedience. Result ofdrilling. Now, then, what's the first thing? He must have someclothes."

  "Oh yes; at once," said Helen.

  "And, look here, my dear," said the doctor testily; "I never useanything of the kind myself, but you girls rub some stuff--pomade orcream--on your hair to make it grow, do you not?"

  "Well, yes, papa."

  "Then, for goodness' sake, let a double quantity be rubbed at once uponthat poor boy's head. Really it is cut so short that he is hardly fitto be seen without a cap on."

  "I'm afraid you will have to wait some time," said Helen, with a smile.

  "Humph! yes, I suppose so," said the doctor gruffly. "That barber oughtto be flogged. Couldn't put the boy in a wig, of course."

  "O papa! no."

  "Well, I said no," cried the doctor testily. "Must wait, I suppose; butwe can make him look decent."

  "Are you--are you going--" faltered Helen.

  "Going? Going where!"

  "Going to have him with us, papa, or to let him be with the servants?"said Helen rather nervously; but she regretted speaking the next moment.

  "Now, my dear child, don't be absurd," cried the doctor. "How am I toprove my theory by taking the boy from the lowest station of society andmaking him, as I shall do, a gentleman, if I let him run wild with theservants!"

  "I--I beg your pardon, papa."

  "Humph! Granted. Now, what's to be done first? The boy is clean?"

  "Oh yes."

  "Can't improve him then, that way; but I want as soon as possible to getrid of that nasty, pasty, low-class pallor. One does not see it in poorpeople's children, as a rule, while these Union little ones always looksickly to me. You must feed him up, Helen."

  "I have begun, papa," she said, smiling.

  "Humph! Yes. Clothes. Yes; we must have some clothes, and--oh, by theway, I had forgotten. Here, my boy."

  The lad jumped up with alacrity, and came to the doctor's side boldly--looking keenly from one to the other.

  "What did you say your name was!"

  "Bed--Obed Coleby."

  "Hah!" cried the doctor; "then we'll do away with that at once. Now,what shall we call you!"

  "I d'know," said the boy, laughing. "Jack?"

  "No, no," said the doctor thoughtfully, while Helen looked on ratheramused at her father's intent manner, and the quick bird-like movementsof their visitor.

  For the boy, after watching the doctor for a few moments, grew tired,and finding himself unnoticed, dropped down on the carpet, took fourpebbles from his pocket, laid them on the back of his right hand, andthrowing them in the air, caught them separately by as many rapidsnatches in the air.

  "Do that again," cried the doctor, suddenly becoming interested.

  The boy showed his white teeth, threw the stones in the air, and caughtthem again with the greatest ease.

  "That's it, Helen, my dear," cried the doctor triumphantly. "Clevernessof the right hand--dexterity. Capital name."

  "Capital name, papa?"

  "Yes; Dexter! Good Latin sound. Fresh and uncommon. Dexter--Dex.Look here, sir. No more Obed. You shall be called Dexter."

  "All right," said the boy.

  "And if you behave yourself well, perhaps we shall shorten it into Dex."

  "Dick's better," said the boy sharply.

  "No, it is not, sir; Dex."

  "Well, Dix, then," said the boy, throwing one stone up high enough totouch the ceiling, and in catching at it over-handed, failing to achievehis object, and striking it instead, so that it flew against the wallwith a loud rap.

  "Put those stones in your pocket, sir," cried the doctor to the boy, whoran and picked up the one which had fallen, looking rather abashed."Another inch, and it would have gone through that glass."

  "Yes. Wasn't it nigh!" cried the boy.

  "Here, stop! Throw them out of that window."

  The boy's brow clouded over.

  "Let me give them to some one at the school; they're such nice roundones."

  "I said, throw them out of the window, sir."

  "All right," said the boy quickly; and he threw the pebbles into thegarden.

  "Now, then; look here, sir--or no," said the doctor less sternly. "Lookhere, my boy."

  The doctor's manner influenced the little fellow directly, and he wentup and laid his hand upon his patron's knee, looking brightly from faceto face.

  "Now, mind this: in future you are to be Dexter."

  "All right: Dexter Coleby," said the boy.

  "No, no, no, no!" cried the doctor testily. "Dexter Grayson; and don'tkeep on saying `All right.'"

  "All--"

  The boy stopped short, and rubbed his nose with his cuff.

  "Hah! First thing, my dear. Twelve pocket-handkerchiefs, and mark them`Dexter Grayson.'"

  "What? twelve handkerchies for me--all for me?"

  "Yes, sir, all for you; and you are to use them. Never let me see yourub your nose with your cuff again."

  The boy's mouth opened to say, "All right," but he checked himself.

  "That's right!" cried the doctor. "I see you are teachable. You weregoing to say `all right.'"

  "You told me not to."

  "I did; and I'm very pleased to find you did not do it."

  "I say, shall I have to clean the knives?"

  "No, no, no."

  "Nor yet the boots and shoes?"

  "No, boy; no."

  "I shall have to fetch the wa
ter then, shan't I?"

  "My good boy, nothing of the kind. You are going to live with us, andyou are my adopted son," said the doctor rather pompously, while Helensighed.

  "Which?" queried the boy.

  "Which what?" said the doctor.

  "Which what you said?"

  "I did not say anything, sir."

  "Oh my! what a story!" cried the boy, appealing to Helen. "Didn't youhear him say I was to be his something son?"

  "Adopted son," said the doctor severely; "and, look here, you must notspeak to me in that way."

  "All--" Dexter checked himself again, and he only stared.

  "Now, you understand," said the doctor, after a few minutes' hesitation;"you are to be here like my son, and you may call me--yes, father, orpapa."

  "How rum!" said the boy, showing his white teeth with a remarkable wantof reverence. "I say," he added, turning to Helen; "what am I to callyou!"

  Helen turned to her father for instructions, her brow wrinkling fromamusement and vexation.

  "Helen," said the doctor, in a decided tone. "We must have no halfmeasures, my dear; I mean to carry out my plan in its entirety."

  "Very well, papa," said Helen quietly; and then to herself, "It is onlyfor a few days."

  "Now, then," said the doctor, "clothes. Ring that bell, Dexter."

  The boy ran so eagerly to the bell that he knocked over a light chair,and left it on the floor till he had rung.

  "Oh, I say," he exclaimed; "they go over a deal easier than our forms."

  "Never mind the forms now, Dexter. I want you to forget all about theold school."

  "Forget it?" said the boy, with his white forehead puckering up.

  "Yes, and all belonging to it. You are now going to be my son."

  "But I shall want to go and see the boys sometimes."

  "No, sir; you will not."

  "But I must go and see Mother Curdley."

  "Humph!" ejaculated the doctor. "Well, we shall see. Perhaps she willbe allowed to come and see you."

  "Hooray!" cried the boy excitedly; and turning to Helen he obtainedpossession of her hand. "I say, save her a bit of that cake."

  "She shall have some cake, Dexter," said Helen kindly, for she could nothelp, in spite of her annoyance, again feeling pleased with the boy'sremembrance of others.

  "And I say," he cried, "when she does come, we'll have a ha'porth o'snuff screwed up in a bit o' paper, and--has he got any gin?"

  "Hush, hush!" whispered Helen.

  "But she's so fond of a drop," said the boy earnestly.

  "And now," said the doctor; "the next thing is clothes. Ah, Maria, sendCribb to ask Mr Bleddan to come here directly."

  "Yes, sir," said Maria; and after a glance at the boy she closed thedoor.

  In less than a quarter of an hour Mr Bleddan, the tailor of Coleby, wasthere; and Dexter stood up feeling tickled and amused at being measuredfor some new clothes which the tailor said should be ready in a week.

  "A week!" said the doctor; "but what am I to do now? The boy can't golike that."

  "Ready-made, sir? I've plenty of new and fashionable suits exactly hissize."

  "Bring some," said the doctor laconically; "and shirts and stockings andboots. Everything he wants. Do you understand!"

  Mr Bleddan perfectly understood, and Dexter stood with his eyessparkling as he heard the list of upper and under garments, boots, caps,everything which the tailor and clothier considered necessary.

  The moment the man had gone, Dexter made a dash to recommence hisIxion-like triumphal dance, but this time Helen caught his hand andstopped him.

  "No, no, not here," she said quietly; and not in the least abashed, butin the most obedient way, the boy submitted.

  "It was because I was so jolly glad: that's all."

  "Hah!" said the doctor, smiling. "Now, I like that, Helen. Work withme, and all that roughness will soon pass away."

  "I say, will that chap be long?" cried Dexter, running to the window andlooking out. "Am I to have all those things for my own self, and may Iwear 'em directly?"

  "Look here, my lad; you shall have everything that's right and properfor you, if you are a good boy."

  "Oh, I'll be a good boy--least I'll try to be. Shall you give me thecane if I ain't?"

  "I--er--I don't quite know," said the doctor. "I hope you will notrequire it."

  "Mr Sibery said I did, and he never knew a boy who wanted it worse, butit didn't do me no good at all."

  "Well, never mind that now," said the doctor. "You will have to be verygood, and never want the cane. You must learn to be a young gentleman."

  "Young gentleman?" said Dexter, holding his head on one side like abird. "One of them who wears black jackets, and turn-down collars, andtall hats, and plays at cricket all day? I shall like that."

  "Humph! Something else but play cricket, I hope," said the doctorquietly. "Helen, my dear, I shall begin to make notes at once for mybook, so you can take Dexter in hand, and try how he can read."

  The doctor brought out a pocket-book and pencil, and Helen, after amoment's thought, went to a glass case, and took down an old gift-bookpresented to her when she was a little girl.

  "Come here, Dexter," she said, "and let me hear you read."

  The boy flushed with pleasure.

  "Yes," he said. "I should like to read to you. May I kneel down andhave the book on your knees!"

  "Yes, if you like," said Helen, who felt that the boy was gaining uponher more and more: for, in spite of his coarseness, there was a frank,merry, innocent undercurrent that, she felt, might be brought to thesurface, strengthened and utilised to drive the roughness away.

  "Read here!" said the boy, opening the book at random. "Oh, here's apicture. What are these girls doing?"

  "Leave the pictures till afterwards. Go on reading now."

  "Here?"

  "Yes; at the beginning of that chapter."

  "I shall have to read it all, as there's no other boy here. We alwaysstand up in a class at the House, and one boy reads one bit, and anotherboy goes on next, and then you're always losing your place, because it'ssuch a long time before it comes round to your turn, and then old Siberygives you the cane."

  "Yes, yes; but go on," said Helen, with a feeling of despair concerningher father's _protege_.

  Dexter began to read in a forced, unnatural voice, with a high-pitchedunpleasant twang, and regardless of sense or stops--merely uttering thewords one after the other, and making them all of the same value.

  At the end of the second line Helen's face was a study. At the end ofthe fourth the doctor roared out--

  "Stop! I cannot stand any more. Saw-sharpening or bag-pipes would bepleasant symphonies in comparison."

  At that moment Maria entered.

  "Lunch is on the table, if you please, sir."

  "Ah, yes, lunch," said the doctor. "Did you put a knife and fork forMaster Dexter?"

  "For who, sir!" said Maria, staring.

  "For Master Dexter here," said the doctor sharply. "Go and put themdirectly."

  Maria ran down to her little pantry, and then attacked Mrs Millett.

  "Master's going mad, I think," she said. "Why, he's actually going tohave that boy at the table to lunch."

  "Never!"

  "It's a fact," cried Maria; "and I've come down for more knives andforks."

  "And you'd better make haste and get 'em, then," said the housekeeper;"master's master, and he always will have his way."

  Maria did make haste, and to her wonder and disgust Dexter was seated atthe doctor's table in his workhouse clothes, gazing wonderingly round ateverything: the plate, cruets, and sparkling glass taking up so much ofhis attention that for the moment he forgot the viands.

  The sight of a hot leg of lamb, however, when the cover was removed,made him seize his knife and fork, and begin tapping with the handles oneither side of his plate.

  "Errum!" coughed the doctor. "Put that knife and fork down, Dexter, andw
ait."

  The boy's hands went behind him directly, and there was silence tillMaria had left the room, when the doctor began to carve, and turned toHelen--

  "May I give you some lamb, my dear?"

  "There, I knowed it was lamb," cried Dexter excitedly, "'cause it was solittle. We never had no lamb at the House."

  "Hush!" said the doctor quietly. "You must not talk like that."

  "All right."

  "Nor yet like that, Dexter. Now, then, may I send you some lamb!"

  "May I say anything?" said the boy so earnestly that Helen could notcontain her mirth, and the boy smiled pleasantly again.

  "Of course you may, my boy," said the doctor. "Answer when you arespoken to, and try and be polite."

  "Yes, sir, I will; I'll try so hard."

  "Then may I send you some lamb!"

  "Yes; twice as much as you give her. It does smell nice."

  The doctor frowned a little, and then helped the boy pretty liberally.

  "Oh, I say! Just look at the gravy," he cried. "Have you got plenty,Miss!"

  "Oh yes, Dexter," said Helen. "May I--"

  "Don't give it all to me, Mister," cried the boy. "Keep some foryourself. I hate a pig."

  "Errum!" coughed the doctor, frowning. "Miss Grayson was going to askif you would take some vegetables!"

  "What? taters? No thankye, we got plenty o' them at the House," criedthe boy; and he began cutting and devouring the lamb at a furious rate.

  "Gently, gently!" cried the doctor. "You have neither bread nor salt."

  "Get's plenty o' them at the House," cried the boy, with his mouth full;"and you'd better look sharp, too. The bell'll ring directly, and weshall have to--no it won't ring here, will it!" he said, looking fromone to another.

  "No, sir," said the doctor sternly; "and you must not eat like that.Watch how Miss Grayson eats her lunch, and try and imitate her."

  The boy gave the doctor a sharp glance, and then, in a very praiseworthymanner, tried to partake of the savoury joint in a decent way.

  But it was hard work for him. The well-cooked succulent meat was sotoothsome that he longed to get to the end of it; and whenever he wasnot watching the doctor and his daughter he kept glancing at the dish,wondering whether he would be asked to have any more.

  "What's that rum-looking stuff?" he said, as the doctor helped himselffrom a small tureen.

  "Mint sauce, sir. Will you have some?"

  "I don't know. Let's taste it."

  The little sauce tureen was passed to him, and he raised the silverladle, but instead of emptying it upon his plate he raised it to hislips, and drank with a loud, unpleasant noise, suggestive of the word_soup_.

  The doctor was going to utter a reproof, but the sight of Helen's mirthchecked him, and he laughed heartily as he saw the boy's face full ofdisgust.

  "I don't like that," he said, pushing the tureen away. "It ain't good."

  "But you should--"

  "Don't correct him now, papa; you will spoil the poor boy's dinner,"remonstrated Helen.

  "He said it was lunch," said Dexter.

  "Your dinner, sir, and our lunch," said the doctor. "There, try andbehave as we do at the table, and keep your elbows off the cloth."

  Dexter obeyed so quickly that he knocked a glass from the table, and onleaving his seat to pick it up he found that the foot was broken off.

  The doctor started, and uttered a sharp ejaculation.

  In an instant the boy shrank away into a corner, sobbing wildly.

  "I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it, sir. Don't beat me, please.Don't beat me this time. I'll never do so any more."

  "Bless my soul!" cried the doctor, jumping up hastily; and the boyuttered a wild cry, full of fear, and would have dashed out of the openwindow into the garden had not Helen caught him, the tears in her eyes,and her heart moved to pity as she read the boy's agony of spirit. Infact that one cry for mercy had done more for Dexter's future at thedoctor's than a month's attempts at orderly conduct.

  "Hush, hush!" said Helen gently, as she took his hands; and, with a lookof horror in his eyes, the boy clung to her.

  "I don't mind the cane sometimes," he whispered, "but don't let him beatme very much."

  "Nonsense! nonsense!" said the doctor rather huskily. "I was not goingto beat you."

  "Please, sir, you looked as if you was," sobbed the boy.

  "I only looked a little cross, because you were clumsy and broke thatglass. But it was an accident."

  "Yes, it was; it was," cried the boy, in a voice full of pleading, forthe breakage had brought up the memory of an ugly day in his youngcareer. "I wouldn't ha' done it, was it ever so; it's true as goodnessI wouldn't."

  "No, no, Maria, not yet," cried Helen hastily, as the door was opened."We will ring."

  Maria walked out again, and the boy clung to Helen as he sobbed.

  "There, there," she said. "Papa is not cross. You broke the glass, andyou have apologised. Come: sit down again."

  If some one had told Helen Grayson two hours before that she would havedone such a thing, she would have smiled incredulously, but somehow shefelt moved to pity just then, and leading the boy back to his chair, shebent down and kissed his forehead.

  In a moment Dexter's arms were about her neck, and he was clinging toher with passionate energy, sobbing now wildly, while the doctor got upand walked to the window for a few moments.

  "There, there," said Helen gently, as she pressed the boy down into hisseat, and kissed him once again, after seeing that her father's back wasturned. "That's all over now. Come, papa."

  The doctor came back, and as he was passing the back of the boy's chair,he raised his hand quickly, intending to pat him on the head.

  The boy flinched like a frightened animal anticipating a blow.

  "Why, bless my soul, Dexter! this will not do," he said huskily. "Here,give me your hand. There, there, my dear boy, you and I are to be thebest of friends. Why, my dear Helen," he added in French, "they musthave been terribly severe, for the little fellow to shrink like this."

  The boy still sobbed as he laid his hand in the doctor's, and then themeal was resumed; but Dexter's appetite was gone. He could not finishthe lamb, and it was only with difficulty that he managed a littlerhubarb tart and custard.

  "Why, what are you thinking about, Dexter!" said Helen after the lunch;and somehow her tone of voice seemed to indicate that she had forgottenall about the workhouse clothes.

  "Will he send me back to the House?" the boy whispered hoarsely, but thedoctor heard.

  "No, no," he said quickly; and the boy seemed relieved.

  That night about eleven, as she went up to bed, Helen Grayson wentsoftly into a little white bedroom, where the boy's pale face lay in thefull moonlight, and something sparkled.

  "Poor child!" she said, in a voice full of pity; "he has been crying."

  She was quite right, and as she bent over him, her presence must haveinfluenced his dreams, for he uttered a low, soft sigh, and then smiled,while, forgetting everything now but the fact that this poor little waifof humanity had been stranded, as it were, at their home, she bent overhim and kissed him.

  Then she started, for she became aware of the fact that her father wasat the door.

  The next moment she was in his arms.

  "Bless you, my darling!" he said. "This is like you. I took this up asa whim as well as a stubborn belief; but somehow that poor littleignorant fellow, with his rough ways, seems to be rousing warmerfeelings towards him, and, please God, we'll make a man of him of whomwe shall not be ashamed."

  Poor Dexter had cried himself to sleep, feeling in his ignorant fashionthat he had disgraced himself, and that the two harsh rulers were quiteright,--that he was as bad as ever he could be; but circumstances wererunning in a way he little thought.