CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
BOMBAY--WHERE STUMPS COMES TO GRIEF.
Once again we must beg the patient reader to skip with us over time andspace, until we find ourselves in the great city of Bombay.
It is a great day for Bombay. Natives and Europeans alike are unusuallyexcited. Something of an unwonted nature is evidently astir. Down atthe sea the cause of the excitement is explained, for the Great Easternsteam-ship has just arrived, laden with the telegraph cable which is toconnect England with her possessions in the East. The streets and quaysare crowded with the men of many nations and various creeds, to saynothing of varied costume. Turbans and chimney-pots salaam to eachother, and fezzes nod to straw hats and wide-awakes. Every one is morethan usually sympathetic, for all have their minds, eyes, and hopes,more or less, centred on the "big ship," with her unique and preciouscargo.
But it is with neither the Great Eastern nor the people--not even withthe cable--that we have to do just now. Removing our eyes from such, wefix them and our attention on a very small steamer which lies alongsideone of the wharves, and shows evidence of having been severely handledby winds and waves.
At the time we direct attention to her, a few passengers were landingfrom this vessel, and among them were our friends, Sam Shipton, RobinWright, Jim Slagg, John Shanks, _alias_ Stumps, and Letta Langley. Mostof the passengers had luggage of some sort, but our friends possessedonly a small bag each, slung over their shoulders. A letter from theauthorities of Sarawak certified that they were honest men.
"Now, Robin," said Sam, as they pushed through the crowds, "there seemsto me something auspicious in our arriving about the same time with theGreat Eastern, and I hope something may come of it, but our firstbusiness is to make inquiries for Mrs Langley. We will therefore goand find the hotel to which we have been recommended, and make that ourhead-quarters while we are engaged in our search."
"Can I lend you a hand, Mr Shipton?" asked Slagg, who had become, as itwere, irresistibly more respectful to Robin and Sam since coming amongcivilised people.
"No, Slagg; our mission is too delicate to admit of numbers. If werequire your services we'll let you know."
"Ah! I see--too many cooks apt to spoil the broth. Well, my missionwill be to loaf about and see Bombay. You and I will pull together,Stumps."
"No," said Stumps, to the surprise of his companions, "I've got aprivate mission of my own--at least for this evening."
"Well, please yourself, Stumpy," said Slagg with a good-humoured laugh,"you never was the best o' company, so I won't break my heart."
At the hotel to which they had been recommended two rooms wereengaged,--a small single room for Letta, and one with two beds and asofa for themselves.
Having breakfasted and commended Letta to the landlady's care, Sam andRobin sallied forth together, while Slagg and Stumps went their separateways, having appointed to meet again in the evening for supper.
We will follow the fortunes of Mr John Shanks. That rather vacant andsomewhat degenerate youth, having his precious bag slung from hisshoulders, and his left arm round it for further security, saunteredforth, and began to view the town. His viewing it consisted chiefly inlooking long and steadily at the shop windows of the principal streets.There was a slight touch of cunning, however, in his expression, for hehad rid himself, cleverly as he imagined, of his comrades, and meant todispose of some of the contents of his bag to the best advantage,without letting them know the result.
In the prosecution of his deep-laid plans, Stumps attracted theattention of a gentleman with exceedingly black eyes and hair, a hooknose, and rather seedy garments. This gentleman followed Stumps withgreat care for a considerable time, watched him attentively, seemed tomake up his mind about him, and finally ran violently against him.
"Oh! I do beg your pardon, sir. I am so sorry," he said in a slightlyforeign accent, with an expression of earnest distress on his notover-clean countenance, "so very, very, sorry; it was a piece of orangepeel. I almost fell; but for your kind assistance I should have beendown and, perhaps, broke my legs. Thank you, sir; I do hope I have nothurt you against the wall. Allow me to dust your sleeve."
"Oh! you've done _me_ no damage, old gen'l'man," said Stumps, ratherflattered by the man's attention and urbanity. "I'm all right; I ain'tso easy hurt. You needn't take on so."
"But I cannot help take on so," returned the seedy man, with anirresistibly bland smile, "it is so good of you to make light of it, yetI might almost say you saved my life, for a fall to an elderly man isalways very dangerous. Will you not allow me to give my benefactor adrink? See, here is a shop."
Stumps chanced to be very hot and thirsty at the time; indeed he hadbeen meditating some such indulgence, and fell into the trap at once.Accepting the offer with a "well, I don't mind if I do," he entered thedrinking saloon and sat down, while his new friend called for brandy andwater.
"You have come from a long voyage, I see," said the seedy man, pullingout a small case and offering Stumps a cigar.
"How d'ee know that?" asked Stumps bluntly.
"Because I see it in your bronzed face, and, excuse me, somewhatthreadbare garments."
"Oh! as to that, old man, I've got tin enough to buy a noo rig out, butI'm in no hurry."
He glanced unintentionally at his bag as he spoke, and the seedy manglanced at it too--intentionally. Of course Stumps's glance let the catout of the bag!
"Come," said the stranger, when the brandy was put before them, "drink--drink to--to the girls we left behind us."
"I left no girl behind _me_," said Stumps.
"Well then," cried the seedy man, with irresistible good humour, "let usdrink success to absent friends and confusion to our foes."
This seemed to meet the youth's views, for, without a word of comment,he drained his glass nearly to the bottom.
"Ha! that's good. Nothin' like brandy and water on a hot day."
"Except brandy and water on a cold day, my dear," returned the Jew--forsuch he was; "there is not much to choose between them. Had you notbetter take off your bag? it incommodes you in so narrow a seat. Let mehelp--No?"
"You let alone my hag," growled Stumps angrily, with a sudden clutch atit.
"Waiter! bring a light. My cigar is out," said the Jew, affecting notto observe Stumps's tone or manner. "It is strange," he went on, "how,sometimes, you find a bad cigar--a _very_ bad cigar--in the midst ofgood ones. Yours is going well, I think."
"Well enough," answered Stumps, taking another pull at the brandy andwater.
The seedy man now launched out into a pleasant light discourse aboutBombay and its ways, which highly interested his poor victim. He madeno further allusion to the bag, Stumps's behaviour having betrayed allhe required to know, namely, that its contents were valuable.
Soon the brandy began to take effect on Stumps, and, as he wasunaccustomed to such potent drink besides being unused toself-restraint, he would speedily have made himself a fit subject forthe care of the police, which would not have suited his new friend atall. When, therefore, Stumps put out his hand to grasp his tumbler foranother draught, his anxious friend inadvertently knocked it over, andthen begged his pardon profusely. Before Stumps could decide whether tocall for another glass at the risk of having to pay for it himself, theJew pointed to a tall, sallow-faced man who sat in a corner smoking andreading a newspaper.
"Do you see him!" he asked, in a low mysterious whisper.
"Yes; who is he? what about him?" asked the youth in a similar whisper.
"He's an opium-smoker."
"Is he?" said Stumps with a vacant stare. "What's that?"
Upon this text the seedy man delivered a discourse on the pleasures ofopium-smoking, which quite roused the interest and curiosity of hishearer.
"But is it so very nice to smoke opium?" he asked, after listening forsome time.
"Nice, my dear? I should think it is--very nice, but very wrong--oh!very wrong. Perhaps we ought not even to speak about it."<
br />
"Nonsense!" said the now half-tipsy lad with an air of determination."I should like to try it. Come, you know where I could have a pipe.Let's go."
"Not for worlds," said the man with a look of remonstrance.
"Oh, yes you will," returned Stumps, rising.
"Well, you are a wilful man, and if you will I suppose you must," saidthe Jew.
He rose with apparent reluctance, paid the reckoning, and led hismiserable victim into one of the numerous dens of iniquity which existin the lowest parts of that city. There he furnished the lad with apipe of opium, and, while he was in the state of semi-stupor resultingtherefrom, removed his bag of treasure, which he found, to his delight,contained a far richer prize than he had anticipated, despite thequantity of trash with which it was partly filled.
Having secured this, he waited until Stumps had partially recovered, andthen led him into one of the most crowded thoroughfares.
"Now, my boy," he said affectionately, "I think you are much better.You can walk alone."
"I should think I could," he replied, indignantly shaking off the man'sgrasp. "Wh-what d'ee take me for?"
He drew his hand across his eyes, as if to clear away the cloud thatstill oppressed him, and stared sternly before him, then he stared, lesssternly, on either side, then he wheeled round and stared anxiouslybehind him. Then clapping his left hand quickly to his side, he becameconscious that his bag was gone, and that his late friend had taken anabrupt departure without bidding him farewell.