CHAPTER THREE.
A VISITOR FROM THE NORTH.
How that Lowland Scot came to the rescue just in the nick of time issoon told.
"Mither," said he one evening, striding into his father's dwelling--asimple cottage on a moor--and sitting down in front of a bright oldwoman in a black dress, whose head was adorned with that frilled andbaggy affair which is called in Scotland a mutch, "I'm gawin' toLun'on."
"Hoots! havers, David."
"It's no' havers, mither. Times are guid. We've saved a pickle siller.Faither can spare me for a wee while--sae I'm aff to Lun'on the morn'smornin'."
"An' what for?" demanded Mrs Laidlaw, letting her hands and the sock onwhich they were engaged drop on her lap, as she looked inquiringly intothe grave countenance of her handsome son.
"To seek a wife, maybe," replied the youth, relaxing into that veryslight smile with which grave and stern-featured men sometimes betraythe presence of latent fun.
Mrs Laidlaw resumed her sock and needle with no further remark than"Hoots! ye're haverin'," for she knew that her son was only jesting inregard to the wife. Indeed nothing was further from that son'sintention or thoughts at the time than marriage, so, allowing the rippleto pass from his naturally grave and earnest countenance, he continued--
"Ye see, mither, I'm twunty-three noo, an' I _wad_ like to see somethingo' the warld afore I grow aulder an' settle doon to my wark. As I said,faither can spare me a while, so I'll jist tak' my fit in my haund an'awa' to see the Great Bawbylon."
"Ye speak o' gaun to see the warld, laddie, as if 'ee was a gentleman."
"Div 'ee think, mother, that the warld was made only for _gentlemen_ totravel in?" demanded the youth, with the gentlest touch of scorn in histone.
To this question the good woman made no reply; indeed her stalwart sonevidently expected none, for he rose a few minutes later and proceededto pack up his slender wardrobe in a shoulder-bag of huge size, which,however, was well suited to his own proportions.
Next day David Laidlaw took the road which so many men have taken beforehim--for good or ill. But, unlike most of his predecessors, he wasborne towards it on the wings of steam, and found himself in GreatBabylon early the following morning, with his mother's last cautionringing strangely in his ears.
"David," she had said, "I ken ye was only jokin', but dinna ye be owersure o' yersel'. Although thae English lassies are a kine o' wauxdolls, they have a sort o' way wi' them that might be dangerous to ladslike you."
"H'm!" David had replied, in that short tone of self-sufficiency whichconveys so much more than the syllable would seem to warrant.
The Scottish youth had neither kith nor kin in London, but he had onefriend, an old school companion, who, several years before, had gone toseek his fortune in the great city, and whose address he knew. To thisaddress he betook himself on the morning of his arrival, but found thathis friend had changed his abode. The whole of that day did David spendin going about. He was sent from one place to another, in quest of hisfriend, and made diligent use of his long legs, but without success.Towards evening he was directed to a street on the Surrey side of theThames, and it was while on his way thither that he chanced to enter thealley where poor Susan was assaulted.
Like most Scotsmen of his class and size David Laidlaw was somewhatleisurely and slow in his movements when not called to vigorousexertion, but when he heard the girl's shriek, and, a moment later, sawher fall, he sprang to her side with one lithe bound, like that of aBengal tiger, and aimed a blow at her assailant, which, had it takeneffect, would have interrupted for some time--if not terminated forever--that rascal's career. But the thief, though drunk, was young,strong, and active. It is also probable that he was a professionalpugilist for, instead of attempting to spring back from the blow--whichhe had not time to do--he merely put his head to one side and let itpass. At the same instant David received a stinging whack on the righteye, which although it failed to arrest his rush, filled his vision withstarry coruscations.
The thief fell back and the Scot tripped over him. Before he couldrecover himself the thief was up like an acrobat and gone. At the samemoment two policemen, rushing on the scene in answer to the girl'sshriek, seized David by the collar and held him fast.
There was Highland as well as Lowland blood in the veins of youngLaidlaw. This sanguinary mixture is generally believed to possesseffervescing properties when stirred. It probably does. For one momentthe strength of Goliath of Gath seemed to tingle in David's frame, andthe vision of two policemen's heads battered together swam before hiseyes--but he thought better of it and restrained himself!
"Tak' yer hands aff me, freens," he said, suddenly unclosing his fistsand relaxing his brows. "Ye'd better see after the puir lassie. An'dinna fear for me. I'm no gawn to rin awa'!"
Perceiving the evident truth of this latter remark, the constablesturned their attention to the girl, who was by that time beginning torecover.
"Where am I?" asked Susy, gazing into the face of her rescuer with adazed look.
"Yer a' right, puir bairn. See, tak' ha'd o' my airm," said the Scot.
"That's the way, now, take hold of mine," said one of the constables ina kindly tone; "come along--you'll be all right in a minute. Thestation is close at hand."
Thus supported the girl was led to the nearest police station, whereDavid Laidlaw gave a minute account of what had occurred to the rathersuspicious inspector on duty. While he was talking, Susan, who had beenprovided with a seat and a glass of water, gazed at him with profoundinterest. She had by that time recovered sufficiently to give heraccount of the affair, and, as there was no reason for furtherinvestigation of the matter, she was asked if her home was far off, anda constable was ordered to see her safely there.
"Ye needna fash," said David carelessly, "I'm gawn that way mysel', an'if the puir lassie has nae objection I'll be glad to--"
The abrupt stoppage in the youth's speech was caused by his turning toSusy and looking full and attentively in her face, which, now that thecolour was restored and the dishevelled hair rearranged, had a verypeculiar effect on him. His mother's idea of a "waux doll" instantlyrecurred to his mind, but the interest and intelligence in Susy's prettyface was very far indeed removed from the vacant imbecility whichusually characterises that fancy article of juvenile luxury.
"Of course if the girl wishes you to see her home," said the inspector,"I have no objection, but I'll send a constable to help you to take careof her."
"Help _me_ to tak' care o' her!" exclaimed David, whose pride was sorelyhurt by the distrust implied in these words; "man, I could putt her inmy pooch an' _you_ alang wi' her."
Of this remark Mr Inspector, who had resumed his pen, took no noticewhatever, but went on writing while one of the constables prepared toobey his superior's orders. In his indignation the young Scot resolvedto fling out of the office and leave the police to do as they pleased inthe matter, but, glancing at Susy as he turned round, he again met thegaze of her soft blue eyes.
"C'way, lassie, I _wull_ gang wi' ye," he said, advancing quickly andoffering his arm.
Being weak from the effects of her fall, Susy accepted the offerwillingly, and was supported on the other side by a policeman.
In a short time the trio ascended the rookery stair and presentedthemselves to the party in the garret-garden just as Sam Blake and TommySplint were about to leave it.
It is impossible to describe adequately the scene that ensued--theanxiety of the poor seaman to be recognised by his long lost "babby,"the curious but not unnatural hesitancy of that "babby" to admit that he_was_ her father, though earnestly assured of the fact by chimney-potLiz; the surprise of David Laidlaw, and even of the policeman, at beingsuddenly called to witness so interesting a domestic scene, and thegleeful ecstasy of Tommy Splint over the whole affair--flavoured as itwas with the smell and memory of recent "sassengers."
When the constable at last bid them good-night and descended the stair,the young Scot turned to go
, feeling, with intuitive delicacy, that hewas in the way, but once again he met the soft blue eyes of Susy, andhesitated.
"Hallo, young man!" cried Sam Blake, on observing his intention, "youain't agoin' to leave us--arter saving my gal's life, p'raps--anywiseher property. No, no; you'll stop here all night an'--"
He paused: "Well, I do declare I forgot I wasn't aboard my own ship,but--" again he paused and looked at old Liz.
"I've no room for any of you in the garret," said that uncompromisingwoman, "there ain't more than one compartment in it, and that's not toobig for me an' Susy; but you're welcome, both of you, to sleep in thegarden if you choose. Tommy sleeps there, under a big box, and a cleversea-farin' man like you could--"
"All right, old lady," cried the seaman heartily. "I'll stop, an'thankee; we'll soon rig up a couple o' bunks. So you will stop too,young man--by the way, you--you didn't give us your name yet."
"My name is David Laidlaw; but I won't stop, thankee," replied the Scotwith unexpected decision of manner. "Ye see, I've been lookin' a' thisday for an auld freen' an' I _must_ find him afore the morn's mornin',if I should seek him a' nicht. But, but--maybe I'll come an' speer for'ee in a day or twa--if I may."
"If you mean that you will come and call, Mr Laidlaw," said old Liz,"we will be delighted to see you at any time. Don't forget theaddress."
"Nae fear--I'll putt it i' my note-buik," said David, drawing asubstantial volume from his breast pocket and entering theaddress--`Mrs Morley, Cherub Court'--therein.
Having shaken hands all round he descended the stair with a firm treadand compressed lips until he came out on the main thoroughfare, when hemuttered to himself sternly:
"Waux dolls, indeed! there's nane o' thae dolls'll git the better o' me.H'm! a bonny wee face, nae doot but what div _I_ care for bonny facesif the hairt's no' richt?"
"But suppose that the heart _is_ right?"
Who could have whispered that question? David Laidlaw could not stop toinquire, but began to hum--
"Oh, this is no my ain lassie, Kind though the lassie be,--"
In a subdued tone, as he sauntered along the crowded street, which bythat time was blazing with gas-light in the shop-windows and oil-lampson the hucksters' barrows.
The song, however, died on his lips, and he moved slowly along, stoppingnow and then to observe the busy and to him novel scene, till he reacheda comparatively quiet turning, which was dimly lighted by only one lamp.Here he felt a slight twitch at the bag which contained his little all.Like lightning he turned and seized by the wrist a man who had alreadyopened the bag and laid hold of some of its contents. Grasping the poorwretch by the neck with his other hand he held him in a grip of iron.