CHAPTER VI
Strangely enough, Dene's spirits seemed lightened by the scene withHeyton; perhaps he had found that peculiar satisfaction which comes toall of us when we have relieved our minds by telling a man who hasbehaved badly and injured us what we think of him. But this hypothesisdoes not altogether account for the uplifting of Dene's mind. He hadbeen going to commit suicide, because he was assured that everybodywould regard him as one of the meanest of creatures, a forger and passerof a "stumer" cheque; but suddenly, at the tragical moment, an angel, inthe guise of a young girl, had appeared, snatched the revolver from hishand, and saved him by just telling him that she believed him innocent.
It seemed to him that this guardian angel of his was hovering about himstill; that it was incumbent upon him to carry out his pact with her,and to escape the fate that had threatened him, and, indeed, threatenedhim still. So centred were his thoughts on this girl, whose very name hedid not know, so buoyed up was he by her wonderful goodness to him, thathe had to remind himself he was still in danger. Perhaps, after all,that fact was not without its compensations; for Youth, when it goeswith strength, and a clear brain, loves adventure, and enjoys pittingitself against any kind of foe. Here was he, an innocent man, flyingfrom Injustice; he was to find out, perhaps for the first time in hislife, what his wits were worth.
As he walked quickly, but not too hurriedly, through the shady streetstowards the river, he considered the situation. If they were keen on thepursuit, the police would no doubt already have set a watch at thevarious ports; and it would be useless for him to attempt to reach theContinent; besides, he had not sufficient money to carry him far enoughfrom England; for, in addition to the five-pound note, which had assumedalready the character of a talisman, there were only a few shillings inhis pocket.
It occurred to him that he would go down to the docks and see if hecould obtain a berth on one of the small trading vessels; he had thequickness of hand and foot which comes of football and cricket, and hehad done some sailing in a friend's yacht; enough, at any rate, to makehim useful on board a ship. He took the train to Mark Lane Station, andsuddenly reminded by the inward monitor that he had eaten nothing forsome hours, turned into one of the numerous old-fashioned coffee-shopsnear the quay.
The place was crowded with ship hands and dock labourers, and reekedwith that indescribable odour which is peculiar to the locality. Withoutreceiving an order, a one-eyed waiter slammed a cup of thick coffee andtwo hunks of bread and butter before Dene; and Dene, eating and drinkingthe rough fare with an enjoyment which amused him, looked round him withthe keenness of a man who is watching for an opportunity to seize uponthe extended hand of Chance.
At the same table were seated two men whom he found it rather difficultto place; they did not look like dock labourers or sailors; and therewas a mixture of the artist, the actor, the cheap-jack about them whichstirred his curiosity; he found himself listening to them involuntarily.
"About time we were moving, isn't it?" said one. "The whole caboose willbe down there by now; and it will be a devil of a job getting it onboard in the dark. Why the old man didn't go by the regular line I can'tthink."
"'Thrift, Horatio, thrift,'" responded his companion; "he'll save a lotof money by hiring this old tramp; and he won't care how we have to pigit, so long as the blessed animals are all right. I had a look at herjust now, and if ever there was a jumping, rolling, sea-sick old tub,she's one."
"A nice prospect," grunted the first man; "and we're short-handed, too;catch the old man taking a single man more than he wants."
Dene pricked up his ears. Was the hand of Chance being extended already?He waited for more, but the men ceased talking, and presently rose andwalked out, with a gait which was as curious as everything else aboutthem. Obeying an impulse, Dene rose and followed them. They joined thecrowd going down towards the docks, and, keeping them in sight, hemerged into a group of excited persons who were moving about in a scenewhich struck Dene with amazement.
On the quay, beside which a steamer was moored, towered a couple of hugeelephants, surrounded by camels, horses, and mules, while on trolliesstood cages of wild beasts, lions, tigers, jackals; one of the elephantswas trumpeting, the camels were groaning, the carnivora roaring; mixedwith their din were the voices of a motley crew, men and women, havingthe same appearance in dress and manner as that of the two men he hadfollowed. Dene saw that it was a travelling menagerie and circus, and helooked on it with an amusement which predominated over hisself-interest. Presently there darted into the conglomerate mass anextraordinary object--it might have been one of the monkeys escaped fromits cage and miraculously raised into imitation of a man's stature. Thediminutive figure was enveloped in a fur coat, much too large for it,and crowned by a ridiculous sombrero hat. An extinct cigar was held inthe clenched teeth, and as the thing waved its hand Dene caught theglitter of innumerable rings.
At the appearance of this strange creature a momentary silence fell onthe crowd. Without a word, he darted to and fro, always waving theberinged hand and biting harder on his cigar. But though he did notspeak, and there seemed to be no meaning in the waving of his hands, themovements of the crowd began to take to themselves something of purposeand order, and the animals fell into line and began to pass along thebroad gangway as if they were under the command of Noah and going intothe Ark. The little man in the fur coat was evidently the controllingspirit; he seemed to be everywhere at once, and the gesticulating pawswere like those of a conductor conducting a band; wherever a difficultycropped up, the fur coat and the sombrero hat were beside it, and theglittering paws smoothing it away.
The more docile of the beasts were on board. The cages had been hoistedby the crane, and the horses were following; one of them grew restive,and slipped from the grasp of the man in charge of it. It would havemade a bolt for it, but Dene, who happened to be standing quite close,caught hold of the bridle. As he did so, the hands waved before hisface; somehow or other, Dene understood that the gesture meant "Go on!"and he led the horse over the gangway on to the ship.
The grotesque figure had followed him, and, with another gesture,ordered Dene to lead the horse to the rough stables which had been setup on deck. He did so, and was at once seized upon by one of the men,who badly needed assistance; and for half an hour Dene was kept hard atwork. There was a fearful din; but presently he heard the warningwhistle, and was making his way for the gangway when he was stopped bythe fur coat and waved back again.
"No time to go ashore, my man," said the dwarf, speaking for the firsttime in Dene's hearing.
Dene paused for just one moment, then, with a shrug of the shoulders, heturned and went back to the horses. He heard the snorting and panting ofthe tug, felt the vessel move, heard some cheers from the deck, and knewthe tug was towing the vessel from the quay.
For the next hour Dene was convinced that he was the most-needed man onearth; for everybody wanted him. He helped to get the horses into theirstables; he bore a hand in putting the cages into position; he carriedhay to the elephants and shins of beef to the lions; and while he wasdoing these and innumerable other tasks, someone was perpetuallyshouting in his ear, "'Ere, matey, lend a hand, will you?" But at lastthe confusion simmered down, and, wiping his face, Dene went with theother men below, where a meal had been hastily prepared for them.
The insufficient light of a waving lamp fell upon a group of men andwomen he had seen on the quay. They were of the usual types which go tomake up a circus company, and they all seemed merry and bright, andutterly indifferent to the noise and the discomfort. There were somenice-looking girls amongst them, and they were laughing and talkingexcitedly, their eyes flashing merrily as they crowded round thetrestles which bore the steaming coffee, the chunks of bread, and theslabs of meat.
With a not-unnatural shyness, Dene stood aside for a moment or two; butfeeling that, at any rate, he had earned his supper, he drew near theboard. As he did so, one of the men he had seen in the coffee-housecaught sight of him, scanned him c
uriously, and said:--
"New hand, eh? What's your line?"
This was a somewhat awkward question, and Dene temporized.
"Well, I don't quite know," he said. "I've been lending a handgenerally."
The man looked at him with an increased interest, as if struck by thetone of Dene's voice.
"Oh!" he said, thoughtfully. "Engaged at the last moment? Well, you'dbetter go and see the guv'nor."
"Gentleman in the fur coat?" asked Dene.
"The same," said the man, with a grin. "You haven't met him yet? Engagedthrough an agent, I suppose? Well, you've got a novel experienceawaiting you. Better look him up at once; he's in his cabin at thepresent moment."
"Thanks. I will," said Dene.
"My name's Sidcup," said the man, in a friendly way. "What's yours?"
This was another staggerer.
"Oh, mine's--Sydney Green," said Dene.
Mr. Sidcup smiled and winked. "Good name," he said. "Short; descriptive;good professional name."
Dene coloured, but passed off his embarrassment with a laugh.
"You'll find you've not joined a bad lot, Mr. Green," said Sidcup, witha jerk of his head towards the collected company. "It's a good show, andsome of us"--he passed his hand over his smooth chin, and pulled downhis waistcoat complacently--"are not without talent."
"I'm sure of that," said Dene, with an air of conviction. "I'll go andsee--what is the proprietor's name?"
"Bloxford. Bloxford's Mammoth Circus; the largest on Earth; see Pressnotices. But, of course, you know," replied Mr. Sidcup, with somesurprise. "The old man's all right, as you'll find. Curious customer;but knows his business. He's not much to look at; but he's a devil towork, and he's a born manager. What I mean is, that he sees what a man'sworth, in the--er--twinkling of an eye. And here's a tip for you: neverargue with him; don't contradict him; just let him have his say and keepyour mouth shut. If he says the moon's made of green cheese--ask him fora biscuit to eat with it. I've been with him for five years, and Iunderstand him."
"Thank you very much," said Dene. "I'll take your tip. I'm not fond ofarguing myself."
When he had disposed of his supper, he made his way to Mr. Bloxford'scabin and knocked at the door. He was bidden to enter in a sharp,falsetto voice, like that of a phonograph when it is on the high note.The manager was still enveloped in his fur coat, but his hat had beenthrown aside, revealing a head apparently completely hairless. A lightedcigar was now between his teeth, and a bottle of champagne stood on thetable. Mr. Bloxford looked up from a paper that he was reading, and eyedDene with that suppressed impatience which is peculiar to all managersof theatres and circuses.
"Well, what do you want?" he demanded. "Tub isn't sinking already, isshe?"
"I've come to ask you to take me on, to let me join your company, Mr.Bloxford," said Dene, going straight to the point.
The manager stared at him. "Take you on! Why, aren't you one of thehands? Then what the blank are you doing here?"
"No, I'm not engaged at present," replied Dene; and he explained how hehad been caught up in the turmoil and had remained on board. While hewas speaking, Mr. Bloxford had been eyeing the tall, well-made figure,the pleasant, handsome face, and, being a man of the world--and a circusmanager to boot--he had no difficulty in seeing that the young man,standing so modestly, and yet so easily, before him, was a gentleman.
"I suppose you know that you're a stowaway, that I could have youchucked overboard, or put into irons or something," he said, furiously,his eyes snapping.
Dene smiled merely.
"Well, now you're here, I'll have to take you on, I guess," said Mr.Bloxford. "You seem to be handy with horses."
"I'm fond of them," said Dene.
"That's all right," rejoined Mr. Bloxford. "I suppose there's nothingyou can do in the professional way? You'd make a good acrobat, or--well,you'd shape into several things." He looked the figure up and downagain, just as he would have examined an animal offered for hisinspection. "But we'll see about that later on. Thirty bob a week. Howwill that suit you?"
"It will suit me very well; and I'll try to earn it," said Derrick.
Mr. Bloxford stared at him. "Here, don't startle me; I've got a weakheart," he observed, with a grin. "You say it as if you meant it. Here,what's your name?"
"Sydney Green," replied Dene, with a promptitude acquired by his recentexperience.
"Right!" said the manager. "Have a drink?"
He poured out a liberal quantity of champagne for Dene, and, filling hisown glass, raised it, eyeing Dene keenly over the edge of it.
"Here's to us! I rather like the look of you; but just listen to me,young fellow. I don't care who and what a man is when he joins mycompany, he's under my orders. See? And look here, I don't ask anyquestions; I take a man for what he says he is. You say your name'sGreen. _Dark_ Green, I expect, eh? Well, it's no business of mine. Youknow where we're bound for, I suppose? Well, we're bound for SouthAmerica. We're going to do it thoroughly; if ever we get there, whichseems doubtful, for this infernal old tramp is more rotten than Ithought. But she's cheap, anyhow; and economy is my motto. Thirtyshillings a week." He wrote down Dene's new name and the amount of hiswages. Then, suddenly, his manner changed; with an impatient gesture hewaved his beringed hand, and Dene felt himself swept outside.
He stood in the gangway and looked straight before him for a minute ortwo. His brain was whirling somewhat, but he realized that he hadescaped. His hand went to his breast pocket, where reposed thefive-pound note his guardian angel had given him. It was still intact.He felt that it was proving itself a talisman. God bless her!