CHAPTER XXV
STEPHEN'S TALE
I have said something of the change in my grandfather's habits after thenews of the loss of the _Juno_ and my father's death; something but notall. Not only was he abstracted in manner and aged in look, but he grewlistless in matters of daily life, and even doubtful and infirm ofpurpose: an amazing thing in him, whose decision of character had madehis a corner of the world in which his will was instant law. And withit, and through it all, I could feel that I was the cause. "It ain't theplace for you, Stevy, never the place for you," he would say, wistfuland moody; wholly disregarding my protests, which I doubt he even heard."I've put one thing right," he said once, thinking aloud, as I sat onhis knee; "but it ain't enough; it ain't enough." And I was sure that hewas thinking of the watches and spoons.
As to that matter, people with valuables had wholly ceased from comingto the private compartment. But the pale man still sat in his corner,and Joe the potman still supplied the drink he neglected. His uneasinessgrew less apparent in a day or so; but he remained puzzled and curious,though no doubt well enough content with this, the most patent exampleof Grandfather Nat's irresolution.
As for Mr. Cripps, that deliberate artist's whole practice of life wasdisorganised by Captain Nat's indifference, and he was driven to dependfor the barest necessaries on the casual generosity of the bar. Inparticular he became the client of the unsober sailor I have spoken ofalready: the disciplinarian, who had roared confirmation of mygrandfather's orders when the man of the silver spoons got hisdismissal. This sailor was old in the ways of Wapping, as in thepractice of soaking, it would seem, and he gave himself over to nocrimp. Being ashore, with money to spend, he preferred to come alone tothe bar of The Hole in the Wall, and spend it on himself, getting fullmeasure for every penny. Beyond his talent of ceaselessly absorbingliquor without becoming wholly drunk, and a shrewd eye for his correctchange, he exhibited the single personal characteristic of a verydemonstrative respect for Captain Nat Kemp. He would confirm mygrandfather's slightest order with shouts and threats, which as often asnot were only to be quelled by a shout or a threat from my grandfatherhimself, a thing of instant effect, however. "Ay, ay, sir!" the manwould answer, and humbly return to his pot. "Cap'en's orders" he wouldsometimes add, with a wink and a hoarse whisper to a chance neighbour."Always 'bey cap'en's orders. Knowed 'em both, father _an'_ son."
So that Mr. Cripps's ready acquiescence in whatever was said loudly, andin particular his own habit of blandiloquence, led to a sort ofagreement between the two, and an occasional drink at the sailor'sexpense.
But, meantime, his chief patron was grown so abstracted fromconsiderations of the necessities of genius, so impervious to hints, sodeaf to all suggestion of grant-in-aid, that Mr. Cripps was driven to adesperate and dramatic stroke. One morning he appeared in the barcarrying the board for the sign; no tale of a board, no description oraccount of a board, no estimate or admeasurement of a board; but theactual, solid, material board itself.
By what expedient he had acquired it did not fully appear, and, indeed,with him, cash and credit were about equally scarce. But upon one thinghe most vehemently insisted: that he dared not return home without themoney to pay for it. The ravening creditor would be lying in wait at thecorner of his street.
Mr. Cripps's device for breaking through Captain Nat's abstractionsucceeded beyond all calculation. For my grandfather laid hands on Mr.Cripps and the board together, and hauled both straightway into theskippers' parlour at the back.
"There's the board," he said with decision, "an' there's you. Where'sthe paints an' brushes?"
Mr. Cripps's stock of paints was low, it seemed, or exhausted. Hisbrushes were at home and--his creditor was at the corner of the street.
"If I could take the proceeds"--Mr. Cripps began; but Grandfather Natinterrupted. "Here's you, an' here's the board, an' we'll soon get thetools: I'll send for 'em or buy new. Here, Joe! Joe'll get 'em. You saywhat you want, an' he'll fetch 'em. Here you are, an' here you stick,an' do my signboard!"
Mr. Cripps dared not struggle for his liberty, and indeed a promise ofhis meals at the proper hours reconciled him to my grandfather'sdefiance of Magna Charta. So the skipper's parlour became his studio;and there he was left in company with his materials, a pot of beer, anda screw of tobacco. I much desired to see the painting, but it was ruledthat Mr. Cripps must not be disturbed. I think I must have restrained mycuriosity for an hour at least, ere I ventured on tip-toe to peepthrough a little window used for the passing in and out of drinks andempty glasses. Here my view was somewhat obstructed by Mr. Cripps's pot,which, being empty, he had placed upside down in the opening, as apolite intimation to whomsoever it might concern; but I could see thatMr. Cripps's labours having proceeded so far as the selection of aconvenient chair, he was now taking relaxation in profound slumber. So Iwent away and said nothing.
When at last he was disturbed by the arrival of his dinner, Mr. Crippsregained consciousness with a sudden bounce that almost deposited him onthe floor.
"Conception," he gasped, rubbing his eyes, "conception, an' meditation,an' invention, is what you want in a job like this!"
"Ah," replied my grandfather grimly, "that's all, is it? Then commonthings like dinner don't matter. Perhaps Joe'd better take it away?"
But it seemed that Mr. Cripps wanted his dinner too. He had it; butGrandfather Nat made it clear that he should consider meditation whollyinconsistent with tea. So that, in course of the afternoon, Mr. Crippswas fain to paint the board white, and so earn a liberal interval ofrest, while it dried. And at night he went away home without the priceof the board, but, instead, a note to the effect that the amount waspayable on application to Captain Kemp at the Hole in the Wall, Wapping.This note was the production, after three successive failures, of my ownpen, and to me a matter of great pride and delight; so that I was sadlydisappointed to observe that Mr. Cripps received it with emotions of awholly different character.
Next morning Mr. Cripps returned to durance with another pot and anotherscrew of tobacco. Grandfather Nat had business in the Minories in thematter of a distiller's account; and for this reason divers injunctions,stipulations, and warnings were entered into and laid upon Mr. Crippsbefore his departure. As for instance:--
It was agreed that Mr. Cripps should remain in the skipper's parlour.
Also (after some trouble) that no exception should be made to theforegoing stipulation, even in the event of Mr. Cripps feeling itnecessary to go out somewhere to study a brick wall (or the hole in it)from nature.
Nor even if he felt overcome by the smell of paint.
Agreed, however: that an exception be granted in the event of the housebeing on fire.
Further: this with more trouble: that one pot of beer before dinner isenough for any man seriously bent on the pursuit of art.
Moreover: that the board must not be painted white again.
Lastly: that the period of invention and meditation be considered at anend; and that sleep on Mr. Cripps's part be regarded as anacknowledgment that meals are over for the day.
These articles being at length agreed and confirmed, and Mr. Crippshaving been duly witnessed to make certain marks with charcoal on thewhite board, as a guarantee of good faith, Grandfather Nat and I set outfor the Minories.
His moodiness notwithstanding, it was part of his new habit to keep menear him as much as possible, day and night, with a sort of wistfuljealousy. So we walked hand in hand over the swing bridge, past Paddy'sGoose, into the Highway, and on through that same pageant of romance andsqualor. The tradesmen at their doors saluted Grandfather Nat with asubdued regard, as I had observed most people to do since the news of_Juno's_ wreck. Indeed that disaster was very freely spoken of, allalong the waterside, as a deliberate scuttling, and it was felt thatCaptain Nat could lay his bereavement to something worse than the fairchance of the seas. Such things were a part of the daily talk by theDocks, and here all the familiar features were present; while it wasespecially noted that n
othing had been seen of Viney since the newscame. He meant to lie safe, said the gossips; since, as a bankrupt, hestood to gain nothing by the insurance.
One tradesman alone, a publican just beyond Blue Gate, greeted mygrandfather noisily, but he was thoughtless with the pride of commercialachievement. For he was enlarging his bar, a large one already, by thedemolition of the adjoining shop, and he was anxious to exhibit andexplain his designs.
"Why, good mornin', Cap'en," cried the publican, from amid scaffoldpoles and brick-dust. "You're a stranger lately. See what I'm doin'?Here: come in here an' look. How's this, eh? Another pair o' doors justover there, an' the bar brought round like so, an' that for Bottle an'Jug, and throw the rest into Public Bar. Eh?"
The party wall had already been removed, and the structure above restedon baulks and beams. The bar was screened off now from the place of itsenlargement by nothing but canvas and tarpaulin, and my grandfather andhis acquaintance stood with their backs to this, to survey the work ofthe builders.
Waiting by my grandfather's side while he talked, I was soon aware thatbusiness was brisk in the bar beyond the canvas; and I listened idly tothe hum of custom and debate. Suddenly I grew aware of a voice Iknew--an acrid voice just within the canvas.
"Then if you're useless, I ain't," said the voice, "an' I shan't let itdrop." And indeed it was Mrs. Grimes who spoke.
I looked up quickly at Grandfather Nat, but he was interested in hisdiscussion, and plainly had not heard. Mrs. Grimes's declaration drew agrowling answer in a man's voice, wholly indistinct; and I found a patchin the canvas, with a loose corner, which afforded a peep-hole.
Mrs. Grimes was nearest, with her back to the canvas, so that her skirtsthreatened to close my view. Opposite her were two persons, in thenearest of whom I was surprised to recognise the coarse-faced woman Ihad seen twice before: once when she came asking confused questions toGrandfather Nat about the man who sold a watch, and once when shefainted at the inquest, and Mrs. Grimes was too respectable to stay nearher. The woman looked sorrowful and drawn about the eyes and cheeks, andshe held to the arm of a tall, raw-boned man. His face was seamed withragged and blistered skin, and he wore a shade over the hollows wherenow, peeping upward, I could see no eyes, but shut and sunken lids; sothat at first it was hard to recognise the fellow who had been talkingto this same coarse-faced woman by Blue Gate, when she left him to askthose questions of my grandfather; and indeed I should never haveremembered him but that the woman brought him to my mind.
It was this man whose growling answer I had heard. Now Mrs. Grimes spokeagain. "All my fault from the beginning?" she said. "O yes, I like that:because I wanted to keep myself respectable! My fault or not, I shan'twait any longer for you. If I ain't to have it, you shan't. An' if Ican't get the money I can get something else."
The man growled again and swore, and beat his stick impotently on thefloor. "You're a fool," he said. "Can't you wait till I'm a bitstraight? You an' your revenge! Pah! When there's money to be had!"
"Not much to be had your way, it seems, the mess you've made of it; an'precious likely to do any better now, ain't you? An' as to money--wellthere's rewards given----"
Grandfather Nat's hand fell on my cap, and startled me. He hadcongratulated his friend, approved his plans, made a few suggestions,and now was ready to resume the walk. He talked still as he took myhand, and stood thus for a few minutes by the door, exchanging viewswith the publican on the weather, the last ships in, and the state oftrade. I heard one more growl, louder and angrier than the others, frombeyond the screen, and a sharper answer, and then there was a movementand the slam of a door; and I got over the step, and stretched mygrandfather's arm and my own to see Mrs. Grimes go walking up thestreet.
When we were free of the publican, I told Grandfather Nat that I hadseen Mrs. Grimes in the bar. He made so indifferent a reply that I saidnothing of the conversation I had overheard; for indeed I knew nothingof its significance. And so we went about our business.