CHAPTER XIII
STEPHEN'S TALE
I found it a busy morning at the Hole in the Wall, that of the twoinquests. I perceived that, by some occult understanding, business inone department was suspended; the pale man idled without, and nobodycame into the little compartment to exhibit valuables. Grandfather Nathad a deal to do in making ready the club-room over the bar, and then inattending the inquests. And it turned out that Mrs. Grimes had settledon this day in particular to perform a vast number of extra feats ofhousewifery in the upper floors. Notwithstanding the disturbance of thisadditional work, Mrs. Grimes was most amazingly amiable, even to me; butshe was so persistent in requiring, first the key of one place, then ofanother, next of a chest of drawers, and again of a cupboard, that atlast my grandfather distractedly gave her the whole bunch, and told hernot to bother him any more. The bunch held all she could require--indeedI think it comprised every key my grandfather had, except that of hiscash-box--and she went away with it amiable still, notwithstanding thehastiness of his expressions; so that I was amazed to find Mrs. Grimesso meek, and wondered vaguely and childishly if it were because she feltill, and expected to die shortly.
Mr. Cripps was in the bar as soon as the doors were open, in a wonderfulstate of effervescence. He was to make a great figure at the inquest, itappeared, and the pride and glory of it kept him nervously on the strut,till the coroner came, and Mr. Cripps mounted to the club-room with thejury. He was got up for his part as completely as circumstances wouldallow; grease was in his hair, his hat stood at an angle, and his faceexhibited an unfamiliar polish, occasioned by a towel.
For my own part, I sat in the bar-parlour and amused myself as I might.Blind George was singing in the street, and now and again I could hearthe guffaw that signalised some sally that had touched his audience.Above, things were quiet enough for some while, and then my grandfathercame heavily downstairs carrying a woman who had fainted. I had notnoticed the woman among the people who went up, but now Grandfather Natbrought her through the bar, and into the parlour; and as she lay on thefloor just as the stabbed man had lain, I recognised her face also; forshe was the coarse-faced woman who had stopped my grandfather near BlueGate with vague and timid questions, when we were on our way from theLondon Dock.
Grandfather Nat roared up the little staircase for Mrs. Grimes, andpresently she descended, amiable still; till she saw the coarse woman,and was asked to help her. She looked on the woman with something ofsurprise and something of confusion; but carried it off at once with atoss of the head, a high phrase or so--"likes of 'er--respectablewoman"--and a quick retreat upstairs.
I believe my grandfather would have brought her down again by mainforce, but the woman on the floor stirred, and began scrambling up, evenbefore she knew where she was. She held the shelf, and looked dullyabout her, with a hoarse "Beg pardon, sir, beg pardon." Then she wentacross toward the door, which stood ajar, stared stupidly, with a lookof some dawning alarm, and said again, "Beg pardon, sir--I bin queer";and with that was gone into the passage.
It was not long after her departure ere the business above was over, andthe people came tramping and talking down into the bar, filling itclose, and giving Joe the potman all the work he could do. The coronercame down by our private stairs into the bar-parlour, ushered with greatrespect by my grandfather; and at his heels, taking occasion by adesperately extemporised conversation with Grandfather Nat, came Mr.Cripps.
There had never been an inquest at the Hole in the Wall before, and mygrandfather had been at some exercise of mind as to the properentertainment of the coroner. He had decided, after consideration, thatthe gentleman could scarce be offended at the offer of a little lunch,and to that end he had made ready with a cold fowl and a bottle ofclaret, which Mrs. Grimes would presently be putting on the table. Thecoroner was not offended, but he would take no lunch; he was verypleasantly obliged by the invitation, but his lunch had been alreadyordered at some distance; and so he shook hands with Grandfather Nat andwent his way. A circumstance that had no small effect on my history.
For it seemed to Mr. Cripps, who saw the coroner go, that by dexterousmanagement the vacant place at our dinner-table (for what the coronerwould call lunch we called dinner) might fall to himself. It hadhappened once or twice before, on special occasions, that he had beenallowed to share a meal with Captain Nat, and now that he was brushedand oiled for company, and had publicly distinguished himself at aninquest, he was persuaded that the occasion was special beyondprecedent, and he set about to improve it with an assiduity and aninnocent cunning that were very transparent indeed. So he wasaffectionately admiring with me, deferentially loquacious with mygrandfather, and very friendly with Joe the potman and Mrs. Grimes. Itwas a busy morning, he observed, and he would be glad to do anything tohelp.
At that time the houses on Wapping Wall were not encumbered withdust-bins, since the river was found a more convenient receptacle forrubbish. Slops were flung out of a back window, and kitchen refuse wentthe same way, or was taken to the river stairs and turned out, eitherinto the water or on the foreshore, as the tide might chance. Mrs.Grimes carried about with her in her dustings and sweepings an oldcoal-scuttle, which held hearth-bushes, shovels, ashes, cinders,potato-peelings, and the like; and at the end of her work, when thebrushes and shovels had been put away, she carried the coal-scuttle,sometimes to the nearest window, but more often to the river stairs, andflung what remained into the Thames.
Just as Mr. Cripps was at his busiest and politest, Mrs. Grimes appearedwith the old coal-scuttle, piled uncommonly high with ashes and dust andhalf-burned pipe-lights. She set it down by the door, gave mygrandfather his keys, and turned to prepare the table. Instantly Mr.Cripps, watchful in service, pounced on the scuttle.
"I'll pitch this 'ere away for you, mum," he said, "while you're seein'to Cap'en Kemp's dinner"; and straightway started for the stairs.
Mrs. Grimes's back was turned at the moment, and this gave Mr. Crippsthe start of a yard or two; but she flung round and after him like amaniac; so that both Grandfather Nat and I stared in amazement.
"Give me that scuttle!" she cried, snatching at the hinder handle. "Mindyour own business, an' leave my things alone!"
Mr. Cripps was amazed also, and he stuttered, "I--I--I--on'y--on'y----"
"Drop it, you fool!" the woman hissed, so suddenly savage that Mr.Cripps did drop it, with a start that sent him backward against a post;and the consequence was appalling.
Mr. Cripps was carrying the coal-scuttle by its top handle, and Mrs.Grimes, reaching after it, had seized that at the back; so that when Mr.Cripps let go, everything in the scuttle shot out on the paving-stones;first, of course, the ashes and the pipe-lights; then on the top ofthem, crowning the heap--Grandfather Nat's cash-box!
I suppose my grandfather must have recovered from his astonishmentfirst, for the next thing I remember is that he had Mrs. Grimes back inthe bar-parlour, held fast by the arm, while he carried his cash-box inthe disengaged hand. Mr. Cripps followed, bewildered but curious; and mygrandfather, pushing his prisoner into a far corner, turned and lockedthe door.
Mrs. Grimes, who had been crimson, was now white; but more, it seemed tome, with fury than with fear. My grandfather took the key from hiswatchguard and opened the box, holding it where the contents werevisible to none but himself. He gave no more than a quick glance within,and re-locked it; from which I judged--and judged aright--that thepocket-book was safe.
"There's witnesses enough here," said my grandfather,--for Joe thepotman was now staring in from the bar--"to give you a good dose o'gaol, mum. 'Stead o' which I pay your full week's money and send youpackin'!" He pulled out some silver from his pocket. "Grateful or not tome don't matter, but I hope you'll be honest where you go next, for yourown sake."
"Grateful! Honest!" Mrs. Grimes gasped, shaking with passion. "'Ear 'imtalk! Honest! Take me to the station now, and bring that box an' show'em inside it! Go on!"
I felt more than a little alarmed at this challenge, ha
ving regard tothe history of the pocket-book; and I remembered the night when we firstexamined it, the creaking door, and the soft sounds on the stairs. ButGrandfather Nat was wholly undisturbed; he counted over the moneycalmly, and pushed it across the little table.
"There it is, mum," he said, "an' there's your bonnet an' shawl in thecorner. There's nothing else o' yours in the place, I believe, sothere's no need for you to go out o' my sight till you go out of italtogether. That you'd better do quick. I'll lay the dinner myself."
Mrs. Grimes swept up the money and began fixing her bonnet on her headand tying the strings under her chin, with savage jerks and a great playof elbow; her lips screwing nervously, and her eyes blazing with spite.
"Ho yus!" she broke out--though her rage was choking her--as shesnatched her shawl. "Ho yus! A nice pusson, Cap'en Nat Kemp, to talkabout honesty an' gratefulness--a nice pusson! A nice teacher for youngmaster 'opeful, I must say, an' 'opin' 'e'll do ye credit! It ain't thelast you'll see o' me, Captain Nat Kemp!... Get out o' my way, you oldlickspittle!"
Mr. Cripps got out of it with something like a bound, and Mrs. Grimeswas gone with a flounce and a slam of the door.
Scold as she was, and furious as she was, I was conscious that somethingin my grandfather's scowl had kept her speech within bounds, andshortened her clamour; for few cared to face Captain Nat's anger. Butwith the slam of the door the scowl broke, and he laughed.
"Come," he said, "that's well over, an' I owe you a turn, Mr. Cripps,though you weren't intending it. Stop an' have a bit of dinner. And ifyou'd like something on account to buy the board for the sign--or saytwo boards if you like--we'll see about it after dinner."
It will be perceived that Grandfather Nat had no reason to regret thekeeping of his cash-box key on his watchguard. For had it been with therest, in Mrs. Grimes's hands, she need never have troubled to smuggleout the box among the ashes, since the pocket-book was no such awkwardarticle, and would have gone in her pocket. Mrs. Grimes had taken herbest chance and failed. The disorders caused by the inquests had lefther unobserved, the keys were in her hands, and the cash-box was left inthe cupboard upstairs; but the sedulous Mr. Cripps had been herdestruction.
As for that artist, he attained his dinner, and a few shillings underthe name of advance; and so was well pleased with his morning's work.