CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
SHOWS HOW OUR HERO FORMED PLANS, HOW MISS PRITTY FORMED PLOTS, AND HOWTHE SMALL DOMESTIC AMUSED HERSELF.
On a certain cold, raw, bleak, biting, bitter day in November, our herofound himself comfortably situated at the bottom of the sea.
We say `comfortably' advisedly and comparatively, for, as compared withthe men whose duty it was to send air down to him, Edgar Berrington wasin a state of decided comfort. Above water nought was to be seen but ableak, rocky, forbidding coast, a grey sky with sleet driving across it,and an angry indigo sea covered with white wavelets. Nothing was to befelt but a stiff cutting breeze, icy particles in the air, and coldblood in the veins. Below water all was calm and placid; groves ofsea-weed delighted the eye; patches of yellow sand invited to a siesta;the curiously-twisted and smashed-up remains of a wreck formed a subjectof interesting contemplation, while a few wandering crabs, and anerratic lobster or two, gave life and variety to the scene, while thetemperature, if not warm, was at all events considerably milder thanthat overhead. In short, strange though it may seem, Edgar was inrather an enviable position than otherwise, on that bleak November day.
Some two years or so previous to the day to which we refer, Edgar, withhis diving friends, had returned to England. Mr Hazlit had precededthem by a month. But Edgar did not seek him out. He had set a purposebefore him, and meant to stick to it. He had made up his mind not to gonear Aileen again until he had made for himself a position, and secureda steady income which would enable him to offer her a home at leastequal to that in which she now dwelt.
Mr Hazlit rather wondered that the young engineer never made hisappearance at the cottage by the sea, but, coming to the conclusion thathis passion had cooled, he consoled himself with the thought that, afterall, he was nearly penniless, and that it was perhaps as well that hehad sheered off.
Aileen also wondered, but _she_ did not for a moment believe that hislove had cooled, being well aware that that was an impossibility. Stillshe was perplexed, for although the terms on which they stood to eachother did not allow of correspondence, she thought, sometimes, that he_might_ have written to her father--if only to ask how they were aftertheir adventures in the China seas.
Miss Pritty--to whom Aileen confided her troubles--came nearer the markthan either of them. She conceived, and stoutly maintained, that Edgarhad gone abroad to seek his fortune, and meant to return and marryAileen when he had made it.
Edgar, however, had not gone abroad. He had struck out a line of lifefor himself, and had prosecuted it during these two years with untiringenergy. He had devoted himself to submarine engineering, and, having anindependent spirit, he carved his way very much as a freelance. Atfirst he devoted himself to studying the subject, and ere long there wasnot a method of raising a sunken vessel, of building a difficultbreakwater, of repairing a complicated damage to a pier, or a well, oranything else subaqueous, with which he was not thoroughly acquainted,and in regard to which he had not suggested or carried out bold andnovel plans and improvements, both in regard to the machinery employedand the modes of action pursued.
After a time he became noted for his success in undertaking difficultworks, and at last employed a staff of divers to do the work, while hechiefly superintended. Joe Baldwin became his right-hand man andconstant attendant. Rooney and Maxwell, preferring steadier and lessadventurous work, got permanent employment on the harbour improvementsof their own seaport town.
Thus engaged, Edgar and his man Joe visited nearly all the wild placesround the stormy shores of Great Britain and Ireland. They raised manyships from the bottom of the sea that had been pronounced by otherengineers to be hopelessly lost. They laid foundations of piers andbreakwaters in places where old Ocean had strewn wrecks since thefoundation of the world. They cleared passages by blasting andlevelling rocks whose stern crests had bid defiance to winds and wavesfor ages, and they recovered cargoes that had been given up for years toNeptune's custody. In short, wherever a difficult submarine operationhad to be undertaken, Edgar Berrington and his man Joe, with, perhaps, agang of divers under them, were pretty sure to be asked to undertake it.
The risk, we need scarcely say, was often considerable; hence theremuneration was good, and both Edgar and his man speedily acquired aconsiderable sum of money.
At the end of two years, the former came to the conclusion that he had asufficient sum at his credit in the bank to warrant a visit to thecottage by the sea; and it was when this idea had grown into a fixedintention that he found himself, as we have mentioned, in rathercomfortable circumstances at the bottom of the sea.
The particular part of the bottom lay off the west coast of England.Joe and a gang of men were hard at work on a pier when Edgar went down.He carried a slate and piece of pencil with him. The bottom was notvery deep down. There was sufficient light to enable him to find hisman easily.
Joe was busy laying a large stone in its bed. When he raised his burlyform, after fixing the stone, Edgar stepped forward, and, touching himon the shoulder, held out the slate, whereon was written in a boldrunning hand:--
"Joe, I'm going off to get engaged, and after that, as soon as possible,to be married."
Through the window of his helmet, Joe looked at his employer with anexpression of pleased surprise. Then he took the slate, obliterated theinformation on it, and printed in an equally bold, but very sprawlyhand:--
"Indeed? I wish you joy, sir."
Thereupon Edgar took the slate and wrote:--
"Thank you, Joe. Now, I leave you in charge. Keep a sharp eye on themen--especially on that lazy fellow who has a tendency to sleep andshirk duty. If the rock in the fair-way is got ready before my return,blast it at once, without waiting for me. You will find one of Siebeand Gorman's voltaic batteries in my lodging, also a frictionalelectrical machine, which you can use if you prefer it. In the storethere is a large supply of tin-cases for gunpowder and compressedgun-cotton charges. There also you will find one of Heinke and Davis'smagneto-electric exploders. I leave it entirely to your own judgmentwhich apparatus to use. All sorts are admirable in their way; quitefresh, and in good working order. Have you anything to say to me beforeI go?"
"All right, sir," replied Joe, in his sprawly hand; "I'll attend toorders. When do you start, and when do you expect to be back?"
"I start immediately. The day of my return is uncertain, but I'll writeto you."
Rubbing this out, Joe wrote:--
"You'll p'r'aps see my old 'ooman, sir. If you do, just give her myrespects, an' say the last pair o' divin' drawers she knitted for me wasfust-rate. Tightish, if anything, round the waist, but a bit o'rope-yarn putt that all right--they're warm an' comfortable. Good-bye,I wish you joy again, sir."
"Good-bye," replied Edgar.
It was impossible that our hero could follow his inclination, and nodwith his stiff-necked iron head-piece at parting. He therefore made themotion of kissing his hand to his trusty man, and giving the requisitesignal, spread his arms like a pair of wings, and flew up to the realmsof light!
Joe grinned broadly, and made the motion of kissing his hand to theponderous soles of his employer's leaden boots as they passed him, then,turning to the granite masonry at his side, he bent down and resumed hiswork.
Arrived at the region of atmospheric air, Edgar Berrington clambered onboard the attending vessel, took off his amphibious clothing, andarrayed himself in the ordinary habiliments of a gentleman, after whichhe went ashore, gave some instructions to the keeper of his lodgings,ordered his horse, galloped to the nearest railway station, flashed atelegraphic message to Miss Pritty to expect to see him that evening,and soon found himself rushing at forty miles an hour, away from thescene of his recent labours.
Receiving a telegraph envelope half-an-hour later, Miss Pritty turnedpale, laid it on the table, sank on the sofa, shut her eyes, andattempted to reduce the violent beating of her heart, by pressing herleft side tightly with both hands.
"It
_must_ be death!--or accident!" she murmured faintly to herself, forshe happened to be alone at the time.
Poor Miss Pritty had no near relations in the world except Edgar, andtherefore there was little or no probability that any one wouldtelegraph to her in connection with accident or death, nevertheless sheentertained such an unconquerable horror of a telegram, that the meresight of the well-known envelope, with its large-type title, gave her alittle shock; the reception of one was almost too much for her.
After suffering tortures for about as long a time as the telegram hadtaken to reach her, she at last summoned courage to open the envelope.
The first words, "Edgar Berrington," induced a little scream of alarm.The next, "to Miss Pritty," quieted her a little. When, however, shelearned that instead of being visited by news of death and disaster, shewas merely to be visited by her nephew that same evening, all anxietyvanished from her speaking countenance, and was replaced by a mixture ofsurprise and amusement. Then she sat down on the sofa--from which, inher agitation, she had risen--and fell into a state of perplexity.
"Now I _do_ wish," she said, aloud, "that Eddy had had the sense to tellme whether I am to let his friends the Hazlits know of his impendingvisit. Perhaps he telegraphed to me on purpose to give me time to calland prepare them for his arrival. On the other hand, perhaps he wishesto take them by surprise. It may be that he is not on good terms withMr Hazlit, and intends to use me as a go-between. What _shall_ I do?"
As her conscience was not appealed to in the matter, it gave no reply tothe question; having little or no common sense to speak of, she couldscarcely expect much of an answer from that part of her being. At lastshe made up her mind, and, according to a habit induced by a life ofsolitude, expressed it to the fireplace.
"Yes, that's what I'll do. I shall wait till near the time of thearrival of the last train, and then go straight off to Sea Cottage tospend the evening, leaving a message that if any one should call in myabsence I am to be found there. This will give him an excuse, if hewants one, for calling, and if he does not want an excuse he can remainhere till my return. I'll have the fire made up, and tell my domesticto offer tea to any one who should chance to call."
Miss Pritty thought it best, on the whole, to give an ambiguous orderabout the tea to her small domestic, for she knew that lively creatureto be a compound of inquisitiveness and impudence, and did not choose totell her who it was that she expected to call. She was very emphatic,however, in impressing on the small domestic the importance of beingvery civil and attentive, and of offering tea, insomuch that the childprotested with much fervour that she would be _sure_ to attend toorders.
This resulted in quite an evening's amusement to the small domestic.
After Miss Pritty had gone out, the first person who chanced to call wasthe spouse of Mr Timms, the green-grocer, who had obviously recoveredfrom her illness.
"Is Miss Pritty at 'ome?" she asked.
"No, ma'am, she ain't, she's hout," answered the small domestic.
"Ah! Well, it don't much matter. I on'y called to leave this 'erelittle present of cabbidges an' cawliflowers--with Mr Timms' kindcompliments and mine. She's been wery kind to us, 'as Miss Pritty, an'we wishes to acknowledge it."
"Please, ma'am," said the domestic with a broad smile, as she took thebasket of vegetables, "would you like a cup of tea?"
"What d'you mean, girl?" asked the green-grocer's wife in surprise.
"Please, ma'am, Miss Pritty told me to be sure to offer you a cup oftea."
"Did she, indeed? That's was wery kind of her, wery kind, though 'owshe come for to know I was a-goin' to call beats my comprehension.'Owever, tell her I'm greatly obleeged to her, but 'avin 'ad tea justafore comin' out, an' bein' chock-full as I can 'old, I'd rather not.Best thanks, all the same."
Mrs Timms went away deeply impressed with Miss Pritty's thoughtfulkindness, and the small domestic, shutting the door, indulged in a fitof that species of suppressed laughter which is usually indicated by aseries of spurts through the top of the nose and the compressed lips.
She was suddenly interrupted by a tap at the knocker.
Allowing as many minutes to elapse as she thought would have sufficedfor her ascent from the kitchen, she once more opened the door. It wasonly a beggar--a ragged disreputable man--and she was about to shut thedoor in his face, with that summary politeness so well understood byservant girls, when a thought struck her.
"Oh, sir," she said, "would you like a cup of tea?"
The man evidently thought he was being made game of, for his faceassumed such a threatening aspect that the small domestic incontinentlyshut the door with a sudden bang. The beggar amused himself bybattering it with his stick for five minutes and then went away.
The next visitor was a lady.
"Is Miss Pritty at home, child?" she asked, regarding the domestic witha half-patronising, half-pitying air.
"No, ma'am, she's hout."
"Oh! That's a pity," said the lady, taking a book out of her pocket."Will you tell her that I called for her subscription to the newhospital that is about to be built in the town? Your mistress does notknow me personally, but she knows all about the hospital, and this book,which I shall call for to-morrow, will speak for itself. Be sure yougive it to her, child."
"Yes, ma'am. And, please, ma'am, would you like a cup of tea?"
The lady, who happened to possess a majestic pair of eyes, looked soastonished that the small domestic could scarcely contain herself.
"Are you deranged, child?" asked the lady.
"No, ma'am, if you please; but Miss Pritty told me to be sure to offeryou a cup."
"To offer _me_ a cup, child!"
"Yes, ma'am. At least to offer a cup to any one who should call."
It need scarcely be added that the lady declined the tea, and went away,observing to herself in an undertone, that "she _must_ be deranged."
The small domestic again shut the door and spurted.
It was in her estimation quite a rare, delicious, and novel species offun. To one whose monotonous life was spent underground, with aprospect of bricks at two feet from her window, and in company withpots, pans, potato-peelings, and black-beetles, it was as good as ascene in a play.
The next visitor was the butcher's boy, who came round to take "orders"for the following day. This boy had a tendency to chaff.
"Well, my lady, has your ladyship any orders?"
"Nothink to-day," answered the domestic, curtly.
"What! Nothink at all? Goin' to fast to-morrow, eh? Or to live onstooed hatmospheric hair with your own sauce for gravey--hey?"
"No, we doesn't want nothink," repeated the domestic, stoutly. "Missussaid so, an' she bid me ask you if you'd like a cup of tea?"
The butcher's boy opened his mouth and eyes in amazement. To have hisown weapons thus turned, as he thought, against him by one who wasusually rather soft and somewhat shy of him, took him quite aback. Herecovered, however, quickly, and made a rush at the girl, who, asbefore, attempted to shut the door with a bang, but the boy was toosharp for her. His foot prevented her succeeding, and there is no doubtthat in another moment he would have forcibly entered the house, if hehad not been seized from behind by the collar in the powerful grasp ofEdgar Berrington, who sent him staggering into the street. The boy didnot wait for more. With a wild-Indian war-whoop he turned and fled.
Excited, and, to some extent, exasperated by this last visit, the smalldomestic received Edgar with a one-third timid, one-third gleeful, andone-third reckless spirit.
"What did the boy mean?" asked Edgar, as he turned towards her.
"Please, sir, 'e wouldn't 'ave a cup of tea, sir," she replied meekly,then, with a gleam of hope in her eyes--"Will _you_ 'ave one, sir?"
"You're a curious creature," answered Edgar, with a smile. "Is MissPritty at home?"
"No, sir, she ain't."
This answer appeared to surprise and annoy him.
"Very odd," he said, with a littl
e frown. "Did she not expect me?"
"No, sir, I think she didn't. Leastways she didn't say as she did, butshe was very partikler in tellin' me to be sure to hoffer you a cup oftea."
Edgar looked at the small domestic, and, as he looked, his mouthexpanded. _Her_ mouth followed suit, and they both burst into a fit oflaughter. After a moment or two the former recovered.
"This is all very pleasant, no doubt," he said, "but it is uncommonlyawkward. Did she say when she would be home?"
"No, sir, she didn't, but she bid me say if any one wanted her, thatthey'd find her at Sea Cottage."
"At Sea Cottage--who lives there?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Where is it?"
"On the sea-shore, sir."
"Which way--_this_ way or _that_ way?" asked Edgar, pointing right andleft.
"_That_ way," answered the girl, pointing left.
The impatient youth turned hastily to leave.
"Please, sir--" said the domestic.
"Well," said Edgar, stopping.
"You're sure, sir--" she stopped.
"Well?--go on."
"That you wouldn't like to 'ave a cup of tea?"
"Child," said Edgar, as he turned finally away, "you're mad--as mad as aMarch hare."
"Thank you, sir."
The small domestic shut the door and retired to the regions below,where, taking the pots and pans and black-beetles into her confidence,she shrieked with delight for full ten minutes, and hugged herself.