CHAPTER XXVI
STEPHEN'S TALE
On our way home we were brought to a stand at the swing bridge, whichlay open to let through a ship. We were too late for the perilous lock;for already the capstans were going, and the ship's fenders weresqueaking and groaning against the masonry. So we stood and waited tillfore, main, and mizzen had crawled by; and then I was surprised toobserve, foremost and most impatient among the passengers on theopposite side, Mr. Cripps.
The winches turned, and the bridge swung; and my surprise grew, when Iperceived that Mr. Cripps made no effort to avoid Grandfather Nat, buthurried forward to meet him.
"Well," said my grandfather gruffly, "house on fire?"
"No, sir--no. But I thought----"
"Sign done?"
"No, Cap'en, not done exactly. But I just got curious noos, an' so Icome to meet you."
"What's the news?"
"Not p'raps exactly as you might say noos, sir, butinformation--information that's been transpired to me this mornin'. Moreor less unique information, so to say,--uncommon unique; much uniquerthan usual."
With these repetitions Mr. Cripps looked hard in my grandfather's eyes,as one does who wishes to break news, or lead up to a painful subject."What's it all about?" asked Grandfather Nat.
"The _Juno_."
"Well?"
"She _was_ scuttled wilful, Cap'en Kemp, scuttled wilful by Beecher.It's more'n rumour or scandal: it's plain evidence."
My grandfather looked fixedly at Mr. Cripps. "What's the plainevidence?" he asked.
"That chap that's been so much in the bar lately," Mr. Cripps answered,his eyes wide with the importance of his discovery. "The chap that soaksso heavy, an' shouts at any one you order out. He was aboard the _Juno_on the voyage out, an' he deserted at Monte Video to a homeward boundship."
"Then he doesn't know about the wreck." I thought my grandfather madethis objection almost eagerly.
"No, Cap'en; but he deserted 'cos he said he preferred bein' on a shipas was meant to come back, an' one as had some grub aboard--him an'others. Beecher tried to pile 'em up time an' again; an' says thechap--Conolly's his name--says he, anything as went wrong aboard the_Juno_ was Beecher's doin'; which was prophesied in the fo'c'sle a scoreo' times 'fore she got to Monte Video. An'--an' Conolly said more." Mr.Cripps stole another sidelong glance at Grandfather Nat. "Confidentialto me this mornin', Conolly said more."
"What?"
"He said it was the first officer, your son, Cap'en, as prevented theship bein' piled up on the voyage out, an' all but knocked Beecher downonce. An' he said they was near fightin' half the time he was with 'em,an' he said--surprisin' solemn too--solemn as a man could as was halfdrunk--that after what he'd seen an' heard, anything as happened to thefirst mate was no accident, or anything like it. That's what he said,cap'en, confidential to me this mornin'."
We were walking along together now; and Mr. Cripps seemed puzzled thathis information produced no more startling effect on my grandfather. Theold man's face was pale and hard, but there was no sign of surprise;which was natural, seeing that this was no news, as Mr. Cripps supposed,but merely confirmation.
"He said there was never any skipper so partic'ler about the boats an'davits bein' kep' in order as Beecher was that trip," Mr. Crippsproceeded. "An' he kep' his own life-belt wonderful handy. As for thecrew, they kep' their kit-bags packed all the time; they could seeenough for that. An' he said there was some as could say more'n hecould."
We came in view of the Hole in the Wall, and Mr. Cripps stopped short."He don't know I'm tellin' you this," he said. "He came in the skipper'sroom with a drink, an' got talkin' confidential. He's very close aboutit. You know what sailors are."
Grandfather Nat frowned, and nodded. Indeed nobody knew better thecommon sailor-man's horror of complications and "land-shark" troublesashore: of anything that might lead to his being asked for responsibleevidence, even for his own protection. It gave impunity tothree-quarters of the iniquity practised on the high seas.
"An' then o' course he's a deserter," Mr. Cripps proceeded. "So I don'tthink you'd better say I told you, cap'en--not to him. You can giveinformation--or I can--an' then they'll make him talk, at the OldBailey; an' they'll bring others."
Grandfather Nat winced, and turned away. Then he stopped again and saidangrily: "Damn you, don't meddle! Keep your mouth shut, an' don'tmeddle."
Mr. Cripps's jaw dropped, and his very nose paled. "But--but----" hestammered, "but, Cap'en, it's murder! Murder agin Beecher an' Viney too!You'll do something, when it's your own son! Your own son. An' it'smurder, Cap'en!"
My grandfather went two steps on his way, with a stifled groan."Murder!" he muttered, "murder it is, by the law of England!"
Mr. Cripps came at his heels, very blank in the face. Suddenly mygrandfather turned on him again, pale and fierce. "Shut your mouth, d'yehear? Stow your slack jaw, an' mind your own business, or I'll----"
Grandfather Nat lifted his hand; and I believe nothing but a paralysisof terror kept Mr. Cripps from a bolt. Several people stopped to stare,and the old man saw it. So he checked his wrath and walked on.
"I'll see that man," he said presently, flinging the words at Mr. Crippsover his shoulder. And so we reached the Hole in the Wall.
Mr. Cripps sat speechless in the bar and trembled, while Grandfather Natremained for an hour in the skipper's parlour with Conolly thehalf-drunken. What they said one to another I never learned, nor even ifmy grandfather persuaded the man to tell him anything; though there canbe no doubt he did.
For myself, I moved uneasily about the bar-parlour, and presently Islipped out into the alley to gaze at the river from the stair-head. Iwas troubled vaguely, as a child often is who strives to analyse thebehaviour of his elders. I stared some while at the barges and the tugs,and at Bill Stagg's boat with its cage of fire, as it went in and aboutamong the shipping; I looked at the bills on the wall, where new talesof men and women Found Drowned displaced those of a week ago; and I fellagain into the wonderment and conjecture they always prompted; and lastI turned up the alley, though whether to look out on the street or tostop at the bar-parlour door, I had not determined.
As I went, I grew aware of a tall, florid man with thick boots and verylarge whiskers, who stood at the entry, and regarded me with a wide andingratiating smile. I had some cloudy remembrance of having seen himbefore, walking in the street of Wapping Wall; and, as he seemed to becoming to meet me, I went on past the bar-parlour door to meet him.
"Ah!" he said with a slight glance toward the door, "you're a smartfellow, I can see." And he patted my head and stooped. "Now I've gotsomething to show you. See there!"
He pulled a watch from his pocket and opened it. I was much interestedto see that the inward part swung clear out from the case, on a hinge,exactly as I had seen happen with another watch on my first evening atthe Hole in the Wall. "That's a rum trick, ain't it?" observed thestranger, smiling wider than ever.
I assented, and thanked him for the demonstration.
"Ah," he replied, "you're as clever a lad as ever I see; but I lay younever see a watch like that before?"
"Yes, I did," I answered heartily. "I saw one once."
"No, no," said the florid man, still toying with the watch, "I don'tbelieve that--it's your gammon. Why, where did you see one?"
He shot another stealthy glance toward the bar-parlour door as he saidit, and the glance was so unlike the smile that my sleeping caution wasalarmed. I remembered how my grandfather had come by the watch with theM on the back; and I remember his repeated warnings that I must nottalk.
"----Why, where did you see one?" asked the stranger.
"In a man's hand," I said, with stolid truth.
He looked at me so sharply through his grin that I had an uncomfortablefeeling that I had somehow let out the secret after all. But I resolvedto hold on tight.
"Ha! ha!" he laughed, "in a man's hand, of course! I knew you was asmart one. Mine hasn't got any letter on the back, you see."
"No," I answered with elaborate indifference; "no letter." And as Ispoke I found more matter of surprise. For if I had eyes in my head--andindeed I had sharp ones--there was Mrs. Grimes in a dark entry acrossthe street, watching this grinning questioner and me.
"Some have letters on the back," said the questioner. "Mine ain't thatsort. What sort----"
Here Joe the potman dropped, or knocked over, something in thebar-parlour; and the stranger started.
"I think I'm wanted indoors," I said, moving off, glad of theinterruption. "Good-bye!"
The florid stranger rose and walked off at once, with a parting smile.He turned at the corner, and went straight away, without so much as alook toward the entry where Mrs. Grimes was. I fancied he walked ratherlike a policeman.