<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</SPAN><br/> <span class="small1">SOUND INVESTMENTS.</span></h2>
<p>The spring-tides led me to Sker the next day, and being full
early for the ebb, I went in to see what the Colonel had done.
For if he should happen to take up the child, she would pass
out of my hands altogether, which might of course be a serious
injury, as well as a very great hardship. For of Moxy's claim
I had little fear if it came to a question of title, inasmuch as I
had made her sign a document prepared and copied by myself,
clearly declaring my prior right in virtue of rescue and providential
ordinance. But as against Colonel Lougher I durst not
think of asserting my claims, even if the law were with me;
and not only so; but I felt all along that the matter was
not one for money to heal, but a question of the deepest
feelings.</p>
<p>And now the way in which Moxy came out, while Bardie
was making much of me (who always saw everything first, of
course), and the style of her meddling in between us, led me
to know that a man has no chance to be up to the tricks of a
female. For the dialogue going on between us was of the very
simplest nature, as you may judge by the following:—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138">[Pg 138]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Hy'se 'a been so long, old Davy, afore 'a come to see poor
Bardie?"</p>
<p>"Because, my pretty dear, I have been forced to work, all
day long almost."</p>
<p>"Hasn't 'a had no time to pay?"</p>
<p>"No, my dear, not a moment to play. Work, work, work!
Money, money, money! Till old Davy is quite worn out."</p>
<p>I may have put horns to the truth in this. But at any rate
not very long ones. And the child began to ponder it.</p>
<p>"I tell 'a, old Davy, 'hot to do. Susan say to me one day,
kite yell, I amember, ickle Bardie made of money! Does 'a
sink so?"</p>
<p>"I think you are made of gold, you beauty; and of diamonds,
and the Revelations."</p>
<p>"Aye yell! Then I tell 'a hot to do. Take poor Bardie to
markiss, old Davy; and 'e get a great big money for her."</p>
<p>She must have seen some famous market; for acting everything
as she did (by means of working face, arms, and legs),
she put herself up like a fowl in a basket, and spread herself,
making the most of her breast, and limping her neck as the
dead chickens do. Before I could begin to laugh, Moxy was
upon us.</p>
<p>"Dyo! Why for you come again? Never you used to
come like this. Put down Delushy, directly moment. No
fish she is for you to catch. When you might have had her,
here you left her through the face of everything. And now,
because great Evan's staff is cloven, by the will of God, who
takes not advantage of him? I thought you would have known
better, Dyo. And this little one, that he dotes upon——"</p>
<p>"It is enough," I answered, with a dignity which is natural
to me, when females wound my feelings; "Madame Thomas,
it is enough. I will quit your premises." With these words
I turned away, and never looked over my shoulder even, though
the little one screamed after me; until I felt Watty hard under
my stern, and like a kedge-anchor dragging. Therefore, I let
them apologise; till my desire was to forgive them. And
after they brought forth proper things, I denied all evil will,
and did my best to accomplish it.</p>
<p>Mrs Thomas returning slowly to her ancient style with me,
as I relaxed my dignity, said that now the little maid was
getting more at home with them. Mr Thomas, after what had
happened in the neighbourhood—this was the death of her
five sons—felt naturally low of spirit; and it was good for him
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139">[Pg 139]</SPAN></span>
to have a lively child around him. He did not seem quite
what he was. And nothing brought him to himself so much
as to watch this shadow of life; although she was still afraid
of him.</p>
<p>Every word of this was clear to me. It meant ten times
what it expressed. Because our common people have a "height
of kindness," some would say, and some a "depth of superstition,"
such as leads them delicately to slope off their meaning.
But in my blunt and sailor fashion, I said that black Evan
must, I feared, be growing rather shaky. I had better have
kept this opinion quiet; for Moxy bestowed on me such a gaze
of pity mingled with contempt, that knowing what sort of a
man he had been, I felt all abroad about everything. All I
could say to myself was this, that the only woman of superior
mind I ever had the luck to come across, and carefully keep
clear of, had taken good care not to have a husband, supposing
there had been the occasion. And I think I made mention of
her before; because she had been thrice disappointed; and all
she said was true almost.</p>
<p>However, Sker-house might say just what it pleased, while
I had my written document, and "Delushy" herself (as they
stupidly called her by corruption of Andalusia) was not inclined
to abandon me. And now she made them as jealous as could
be, for she clung to me fast with one hand, while she spread
the beautiful tiny fingers of the other to Moxy, as much as to
say, "Interrupt me not; I have such a lot of things to tell old
Davy."</p>
<p>And so she had without any mistake; and the vast importance
of each matter lost nothing for want of emphasis. Patty
Green had passed through a multitude of most surprising adventures,
some of them even transcending her larceny of my
sugar. Watty had covered himself with glory, and above all
little "Dutch," the sheep-dog, was now become a most benevolent
and protecting power.</p>
<p>"'Hots 'a think, old Davy? Patty Geen been yecked, she
has."</p>
<p>"'Yecked!' I don't know what that is, my dear."</p>
<p>"Ness, I said, 'yecked,' old Davy; yecked down nare, same
as Bardie was."</p>
<p>It was clear that she now had taken up with the story which
everybody told; and she seemed rather proud of having been
wrecked.</p>
<p>"And Patty," she went on, quite out of breath; "Patty
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140">[Pg 140]</SPAN></span>
'poiled all her boofely cothes: such a mess 'e never see a'most!
And poor Patty go to 'e back pit-hole, till 'e boofely Dush yun
all into 'e yater."</p>
<p>"Oh, and Dutch pulled her out again, did she?"</p>
<p>"Ness, and her head come kite out of her neck. But Yatty
put 'e guepot on, and make it much better than ever a'most."</p>
<p>"Now, Delushy, what a child you are!" cried Mrs Thomas,
proudly; "you never told Mr. Llewellyn that you ran into the
sea yourself, to save your doll; and drownded you must have
been, but for our Watkin."</p>
<p>"Bardie 'poil her cothes," she said, looking rather shy about
it: "Bardie's cothes not boofely now, not same as they used
to be."</p>
<p>But if she regretted her change of apparel, she had ceased by
this time, Moxy said, to fret much for her father and mother.
For Watkin, or some one, had inspired her with a most comforting
idea—to wit, that her parents had placed her there for
the purpose of growing faster; and that when she had done
her best to meet their wishes in this respect, they would suddenly
come to express their pride and pleasure at her magnitude.
Little brother also would appear in state, and so would
Susan, and find it needful to ascend the dairy-stool to measure
her. As at present her curly head was scarcely up to the mark
of that stool, the duty of making a timely start in this grand
business of growing became at once self-evident. To be "a
geat big gal" was her chief ambition; inasmuch as "'hen I'se
a geat big gal, mama and papa be so peased, and say, 'hot a
good gal 'e is, Bardie, to do as I tell 'a!"</p>
<p>Often when her heart was heavy in the loneliness of that
house, and the loss of all she loved, and with dirty things
around her, the smile would come back to her thoughtful eyes,
and she would open her mouth again for the coarse but wholesome
food, which was to make a "big gal" of her. Believing
herself now well embarked toward this desired magnitude, she
had long been making ready for the joy it would secure. "'E
come and see, old Davy. I sow 'a sompfin," she whispered to
me, when she thought the others were not looking, so I gave
a wink to Moxy Thomas, whose misbehaviour I had overlooked,
and humouring the child I let her lead me to her sacred
spot.</p>
<p>This was in an unused passage, with the end door nailed to
jambs, and black oak-panelling along it, and a floor of lias
stone. None in the house durst enter it except this little
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141">[Pg 141]</SPAN></span>
creature; at least unless there were three or four to hearten
one another, and a strong sun shining. The Abbot's Walk
was its proper name; because a certain Abbot of Neath, who
had made too much stir among the monks, received (as we say)
his quietus there during a winter excursion; and in spite of all
the masses said, could not keep his soul at rest. Therefore his
soul came up and down; and that is worse than a dozen spirits;
for the soul can groan, but the spirit is silent.</p>
<p>Into this dark lonely passage I was led by a little body, too
newly inhabited by spirit to be at all afraid of it. And she
came to a cupboard door, and tugged, and made a face as usual,
when the button was hard to move. But as for allowing me
to help her,—not a bit of it, if you please. With many grunts
and jerks of breath, at last she fetched it outward, having made
me promise first not to touch, however grand and tempting
might be the scene disclosed to me.</p>
<p>What do you think was there collected, and arranged in such
a system that no bee could equal it? Why, every bit of everything
that every one who loved her (which amounts to everybody)
ever had bestowed upon her, for her own sweet use and
pleasure, since ashore she came to us. Not a lollipop was
sucked, not a bit of "taffy" tasted, not a plaything had been
used, but just enough to prove it; all were set in portions four,
two of which were double-sized of what the other two were.
Nearly half these things had come, I am almost sure, from
Newton; and among the choicest treasures which were stored
in scollop shells, I descried one of my own buttons which I
had honestly given her, because two eyelets had run together;
item, a bowl of an unsmoked pipe (which had snapped
in my hand one evening); item, as sure as I am alive, every
bit of the sugar which the Dolly had taken from out my
locker.</p>
<p>Times there are when a hardy man, at sense of things (however
childish), which have left their fibre in him, finds himself,
or loses self, in a sudden softness. So it almost was with me
(though the bait on my hooks all the time was drying), and for
no better reason than the hopeless hopes of a very young child.
I knew what all her storehouse meant before she began to tell
me. And her excitement while she told me scarcely left her
breath to speak.</p>
<p>"'Nat for papa, with 'e kean pipe to 'moke, and 'nat for
mamma with 'e boofely bucken for her coke, and 'nat for my
dear ickle bother, because it just fit in between his teeth, and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142">[Pg 142]</SPAN></span>
'nis with 'e 'ooking-gass for Susan, because she do her hair all
day yong."</p>
<p>She held up the little bit of tin, and mimicked Susan's
self-adornment, making such a comic face, and looking so conceited,
that I felt as if I should know her Susan, anywhere in
a hundred of women, if only she should turn up so. And I
began to smile a little; and she took it up tenfold.</p>
<p>"'E make me yaff so, I do decare, 'e silly old Davy;
I doesn't know 'hat to do a'most. But 'e mustn't tell anybody."</p>
<p>This I promised, and so went a-fishing, wondering what in
the world would become of the queerest fish I had ever caught,
as well as the highest-flavoured one. It now seemed a toss-up
whether or not something or other might turn up, in the course
of one's life, about her. At any rate she was doing well, with
her very bright spirits to help her, and even Black Evan, so
broken down as not to be hard upon any one. And as things
fell out to take me from her, without any warning, upon the
whole it was for the best to find the last sight comfortable.</p>
<p>And a man of my power must not always be poking after
babies, even the best that were ever born. Tush, what says
King David, who was a great-grandfather of mine; less distant
than Llewellyn Harper, but as much respected; in spite of his
trying to contribute Jewish blood to the lot of us in some of
his rasher moments? But ancestor though we acknowledge
him (when our neighbourhood has a revival), I will not be
carried away by his fame to copy, so much as to hearken him.
The autumn now grew fast upon us, and the beach was shifting;
and neither room nor time remained for preaching under
the sandhills, even if any one could be found with courage to
sit under them. And as the nights turned cold and damp,
everybody grumbled much; which was just and right enough,
in balance of their former grumbling at the summer drought
and heat. And it was mainly this desire not to be behind my
neighbours in the comfort and the company of grumbling and
exchanging grumbles, which involved me in a course of action
highly lowering to my rank and position in society, but without
which I could never have been enabled to tell this story. And
yet before entering on that subject, everybody will want to
know how I discharged my important and even arduous duties
as trustee through Sir Philip's munificence for both those little
children. In the first place, I felt that my position was strictly
confidential, and that it would be a breach of trust to disclose
to any person (especially in a loquacious village) a matter so
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143">[Pg 143]</SPAN></span>
purely of private discretion. Three parties there were to be
considered, and only three, whatever point of view one chose
to take of it. The first of these was Sir Philip, the second the
two children, and the third of course myself. To the first my
duty was gratitude (which I felt and emitted abundantly), to
the second both zeal and integrity; and for myself there was
one course only (to which I am naturally addicted), namely, a
lofty self-denial. This duty to myself I discharged at once,
by forming a stern resolution not to charge either of those
children so much as a single farthing for taking care of her
property until she was twenty-one years of age. Then as
regards the second point, I displayed my zeal immediately, by
falling upon Bunny soon after daylight, and giving her a small-tooth-combing
to begin with, till the skin of her hair was as
bright as a prawn; after which, without any heed whatever of
roars, or even kicks, I took a piece of holy-stone, and after a
rinsing of soda upon her, I cleaned down her planking to such
a degree that our admiral might have inspected her. She was
clean enough for a captain's daughter before, and dandy-trimmed
more than need have been for a little craft built to be only a
coaster. But now when her yelling had done her good, and
her Sunday frock was shipped, and her black hair spanked
with a rose-coloured ribbon, and the smiles flowed into her
face again with the sense of all this smartness, Sir Philip himself
would have thought her consistent with the owner of five
pounds sterling.</p>
<p>And as touching the money itself, and the honesty rightly
expected from me, although the sum now in my hands was
larger than it ever yet had pleased the Lord to send me, for
out and out my own, nevertheless there was no such thing as
leading me astray about it. And this was the more to my
credit, because that power of evil, who has more eyes than all
the angels put together, or, at any rate, keeps them wider open,
he came aft, seeing how the wind was, and planted his hoof
within half a plank of the tiller of my conscience. But I
heaved him overboard at once, and laid my course with this
cargo of gold, exactly as if it were shipper's freight, under bond
and covenant. Although, in downright common-sense, having
Bunny for my grandchild, I also possessed beyond any doubt
whatever belonged to Bunny; just as the owner of a boat owns
the oars and rudder also. And the same held true, as most
people would think, concerning Bardie's property; for if I had
not saved her life, how could she have owned any?</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144">[Pg 144]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>So far, however, from dealing thus, I not only kept all their
money for them, but invested it in the manner which seemed
to be most for their interest. To this intent I procured a book
for three halfpence (paid out of mine own pocket), wherein I
declared a partnership, and established a fishing association,
under the name, style, and description of "Bardie, Bunny,
Llewellyn, and Co." To this firm I contributed not only my
industry and skill, but also nets, tackle, rods and poles, hooks
and corks, and two kettles for bait, and a gridiron fit to land
and cook with; also several well-proven pipes, and a perfectly
sound tobacco-box. Every one of these items, and many others,
I entered in the ledger of partnership; and Mother Jones,
being strange to much writing, recorded her mark at the
bottom of it (one stroke with one hand and one with the
other), believing it to be my testament, with an Amen coming
after it.</p>
<p>But knowing what the tricks of fortune are, and creditors so
unreasonable, I thought it much better to keep my boat outside
of the association. If the firm liked, they might hire it,
and have credit until distribution-day, which I fixed for the
first day of every three months. My partners had nothing to
provide, except just an anchor, a mast, and a lug-sail, a new
net or two, because mine were wearing, and one or two other
trifles perhaps, scarcely worth describing. For after all, who
could be hard upon them, when all they contributed to the
firm was fifteen pounds and ten shillings?</p>
<p class="pmb3">It was now in the power of both my partners to advance
towards fortune; to permit very little delay before they insisted
on trebling their capital; and so reinvest it in the firm;
and hence at the age of twenty-one, be fit to marry magistrates.
And I made every preparation to carry their shares of the
profits over. Nevertheless, things do not always follow the
line of the very best and soundest calculations. The fish that
were running up from the Mumbles, fast enough to wear their
fins out, all of a sudden left off altogether, as if they had heard
of the association. Not even a twopenny glass of grog did I
ever take out of our capital, nor a night of the week did I
lie abed, when the lines required attendance. However,
when fish are entirely absent, the very best fishermen in the
world cannot manage to create them; and therefore our partnership
saw the wisdom of declaring no dividends for the first
quarter.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145">[Pg 145]</SPAN></span></p>
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