SCENE II.
_Number Three, Minerva Court, First floor back._
LITTLE TIMOTHY JESSUP ASSUMES PARENTAL RESPONSIBILITIES.
When the snores of the two watchers fell on the stillness of thedeath-chamber, with that cheerful regularity that betokens the sleep ofthe truly good, a little figure crept out of the bed in the adjoiningroom and closed the door noiselessly, but with trembling fingers;stealing then to the window to look out at the dirty street and the graysky over which the first faint streaks of dawn were beginning to creep.
It was little Timothy Jessup (God alone knows whether he had any rightto that special patronymic), but not the very same Tim Jessup who hadkissed the baby Gay in her little crib, and gone to sleep on his ownhard bed in that room, a few hours before. As he stood shivering at thewindow, one thin hand hard pressed upon his heart to still its beating,there was a light of sudden resolve in his eyes, a new-born look ofanxiety on his unchildlike face.
"I will not have Gay protectioned and reliefed, and I will not be takenaway from her and sent to a 'sylum, where I can never find her again!"and with these defiant words trembling, half spoken, on his lips, heglanced from the unconscious form in the crib to the terrible door,which might open at any moment and divide him from his heart's delight,his darling, his treasure, his only joy, his own, own baby Gay.
But what should he do? Run away: that was the only solution of thematter, and no very difficult one either. The cruel women were asleep;the awful Thing that had been Flossy would never speak again; and no oneelse in Minerva Court cared enough for them to pursue them very far orvery long.
"And so," thought Timothy swiftly, "I will get things ready, take Gay,and steal softly out of the back door, and run away to the 'truly'country, where none of these bad people ever can find us, and where Ican get a mother for Gay; somebody to 'dopt her and love her till Igrow up a man and take her to live with me."
The moment this thought darted into Timothy's mind, it began to shapeitself in definite action.
Gabrielle, or Lady Gay, as Flossy called her, in honor of her favoritestage heroine, had been tumbled into her crib half dressed the nightbefore. The only vehicle kept for her use in the family stables was aclothes-basket, mounted on four wooden wheels and cushioned with a dingyshawl. A yard of clothes-line was tied on to one end, and in this humbleconveyance the Princess would have to be transported from the Ogre'scastle; for she was scarcely old enough to accompany the Prince on foot,even if he had dared to risk detection by waking her: so theclothes-basket must be her chariot, and Timothy her charioteer, as onmany a less fateful expedition.
After he had changed his ragged night-gown for a shabby suit of clothes,he took Gay's one clean apron out of a rickety bureau drawer ("for I cannever find a mother for her if she's too dirty," he thought), her Sundayhat from the same receptacle, and last of all a comb, and a fadedJapanese parasol that stood in a corner. These he deposited under theold shawl that decorated the floor of the chariot. He next groped hisway in the dim light toward a mantelshelf, and took down asavings-bank,--a florid little structure with "Bank of England" stampedover the miniature door, into which the jovial gentleman who frequentedthe house often slipped pieces of silver for the children, and intowhich Flossy dipped only when she was in a state of temporary financialembarrassment. Timothy did not dare to jingle it; he could only hopethat as Flossy had not been in her usual health of late (though in morethan her usual "spirits"), she had not felt obliged to break the bank.
Now for provisions. There were plenty of "funeral baked meats" in thekitchen; and he hastily gathered a dozen cookies into a towel, andstowed them in the coach with the other sinews of war.
So far, well and good; but the worst was to come. With his heart beatingin his bosom like a trip-hammer, and his eyes dilated with fear, hestepped to the door between the two rooms, and opened it softly. Twothundering snores, pitched in such different keys that they must haveproceeded from two separate sets of nasal organs, reassured the boy. Helooked out into the alley. "Not a creature was stirring, not even amouse." The Minerva Courtiers couldn't be owls and hawks too, and therewas not even the ghost of a sound to be heard. Satisfied that all waswell, Timothy went back to the bedroom, and lifted the batteredclothes-basket, trucks and all, in his slender arms, carried it up thealley and down the street a little distance, and deposited it on thepavement beside a vacant lot. This done, he sped back to the house. "Howbeautifully they snore!" he thought, as he stood again on the threshold."Shall I leave 'em a letter?... P'raps I better ... and then they won'tfollow us and bring us back." So he scribbled a line on a bit of tornpaper bag, and pinned it on the enemies' door.
"A kind Lady is goin to Adopt us it is a Grate ways off so do not Hunt good by. TIM."
Now all was ready. No; one thing more. Timothy had been met in thestreet by a pretty young girl a few weeks before. The love of God wassmiling in her heart, the love of children shining in her eyes; and sheled him, a willing captive, into a mission Sunday-school near by. And somuch in earnest was the sweet little teacher, and so hungry for any sortof good tidings was the starved little pupil, that Timothy "gotreligion" then and there, as simply and naturally as a child takes itsmother's milk. He was probably in a state of crass ignorance regardingthe Thirty-nine Articles; but it was the "engrafted word," of which theBible speaks, that had blossomed in Timothy's heart; the living seed hadalways been there, waiting for some beneficent fostering influence; forhe was what dear Charles Lamb would have called a natural"kingdom-of-heavenite." Thinking, therefore, of Miss Dora's injunctionto pray over all the extra-ordinary affairs of life and as many of theordinary ones as possible, he hung his tattered straw hat on thebedpost, and knelt beside Gay's crib with this whispered prayer:--
"_Our Father who art in heaven, please help me to find a mother for Gay,one that she can call Mamma, and another one for me, if there's enough,but not unless. Please excuse me for taking away the clothes-basket,which does not exactly belong to us; but if I do not take it, dearheavenly Father, how will I get Gay to the railroad? And if I don't takethe Japanese umbrella she will get freckled, and nobody will adopt her.No more at present, as I am in a great hurry. Amen._"
He put on his hat, stooped over the sleeping baby, and took her in hisfaithful arms,--arms that had never failed her yet. She half opened hereyes, and seeing that she was safe on her beloved Timothy's shoulder,clasped her dimpled arms tight about his neck, and with a long sighdrifted off again into the land of dreams. Bending beneath her weight,he stepped for the last time across the threshold, not even daring toclose the door behind him.
Up the alley and round the corner he sped, as fast as his trembling legscould carry him. Just as he was within sight of the goal of hisambition, that is, the chariot aforesaid, he fancied he heard the soundof hurrying feet behind him. To his fevered imagination the tread waslike that of an avenging army on the track of the foe. He did not dareto look behind. On! for the clothes-basket and liberty! He wouldrelinquish the Japanese umbrella, the cookies, the comb, and theapron,--all the booty, in fact,--as an inducement for the enemy toretreat, but he would never give up the prisoner.
On the feet hurried, faster and faster. He stooped to put Gay in thebasket, and turned in despair to meet his pursuers, when a little,grimy, rough-coated, lop-eared, split-tailed thing, like an animatedrag-bag, leaped upon his knees; whimpering with joy, and imploring, withevery grace that his simple doggish heart could suggest, to be one ofthe eloping party.
Rags had followed them!
Timothy was so glad to find it no worse that he wasted a moment inembracing the dog, whose delirious joy at the prospect of this probablydinnerless and supperless expedition was ludicrously exaggerated. Thenhe took up the rope and trundled the chariot gently down a side streetleading to the station.
Everything worked to a charm. They met only an occasional milk (andwater) man, starting on his matutinal rounds, for it was now after fouro'clock, and one or two cavaliers of uncertain gait, just returning to
their homes, several hours too late for their own good; but thesegentlemen were in no condition of mind to be over-interested, and thelittle fugitives were troubled with no questions as to their intentions.
And so they went out into the world together, these three: TimothyJessup (if it was Jessup), brave little knight, nameless nobleman,tracing his descent back to God, the Father of us all, and bearingthe Divine likeness more than most of us; the little LadyGay,--somebody--nobody--anybody,--from nobody knows where,--destinationequally uncertain; and Rags, of pedigree most doubtful, scutcheon quiteobscured by blots, but a perfect gentleman, true-hearted and loyal tothe core,--in fact, an angel in fur. These three, with theclothes-basket as personal property and the Bank of England as security,went out to seek their fortune; and, unlike Lot's wife, without daringto look behind, shook the dust of Minerva Court from off their feetforever and forever.