Rivers of Ice by R. M. Ballantyne (best fiction novels to read TXT) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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The room in which she sat resembled the cabin of a ship in more respects than one. It was particularly low in the root so low that the seamanâs hair touched it as he stood there looking round him; and across this roof ran a great beam, from which hung a variety of curious ornaments, such as a Chinese lantern, a Turkish scimitar, a New Zealand club, an Eastern shield, and the model of a full-rigged ship. Elsewhere on the walls were, an ornamented dagger, a worsted-work sampler, a framed sheet of the flags of all nations, a souâ-wester cap and oiled coat, a telescope, and a small staring portrait of a sea-captain in his âgo-to-meetingâ clothes, which looked very much out of keeping with his staring sunburnt face, and were a bad fit. It might have been a good likeness, and was certainly the work of one who might have raised himself to the rank of a Royal Academician if he had possessed sufficient talent and who might have painted well if he had understood the principles of drawing and colour.
The windows of the apartment, of which there were two very small square ones, looked out upon the river, and, to some extent overhung it, so that a man of sanguine temperament might have enjoyed fishing from them, if he could have been content to catch live rats and dead cats. The prospect from these windows was, however, the best of them, being a wide reach of the noble river, crowded with its stately craft, and cut up by its ever-bustling steamers. But the most noteworthy part of this room, or âcabin,â was the space between the two windows immediately over the chimney-piece, which the eccentric old woman had covered with a large, and, in some cases, inappropriate assortment of objects, by way of ornament, each article being cleaned and polished to the highest possible condition of which it was susceptible. A group of five photographs of childrenâthree girls and two boys, looking amazedâformed the centrepiece of the design; around these were five other photographs of three young ladies and two young gentlemen, looking conscious, but pleased. The spaces between these, and every available space around them, were occupied by pot-lids of various sizes, old and battered, but shining like little suns; small looking-glasses, also of various sizes, some square and others round; little strings of beads; heads of meerschaums that had been much used in former days; pin-cushions, shell-baskets, one or two horse-shoes, and iron-heels of boots; several flat irons belonging to dollâs houses, with a couple of dolls, much the worse for wear, mounting guard over them; besides a host of other nick-nacks, for which it were impossible to find names or imagine uses. Everythingâfrom the old womanâs cap to the uncarpeted floor, and the little grate in which a little fire was making feeble efforts to warm a little tea-kettle with a defiant spoutâwas scrupulously neat, and fresh, and clean, very much the reverse of what one might have expected to find in connection with a poverty-stricken population, a dirty lane, a filthy court, a rickety stair, and a dark passage. Possibly the cause might have been found in a large and much-worn family Bible, which lay on a small table in company with a pair of tortoiseshell spectacles, at the old womanâs elbow.
On this scene the nautical man stood gazing, as we have said, with much interest; but he was too polite to gaze long.
âYour servant, missis,â he said with a somewhat clumsy bow.
âGood morning, sir,â said the little old woman, returning the bow with the air of one who had once seen better society than that of Grubbâs Court.
âYour name is Roby, I believe,â continued the seaman, advancing, and looking so large in comparison with the little room that he seemed almost to fill it.
The little old woman admitted that that was her name.
âMy name,â said the seaman, âis Wopper, thoâ Iâm oftener called Skipper, also Cappân, by those who know me.â
Mrs Roby pointed to a chair and begged Captain Wopper to sit down, which he did after bestowing a somewhat pointed glance at the chair, as if to make sure that it could bear him.
âYou was a nuss once, Iâm told,â continued the seaman, looking steadily at Mrs Roby as he sat down.
âI was,â answered the old woman, glancing at the photographs over the chimney-piece, âin the same family for many years.â
âYouâll excuse me, maâam,â continued the seaman, âif I appear something inquisitive, I want to make sure that Iâve boarded the right craft dâee seeâI mean, that you are the right âooman.â
A look of surprise, not unmingled with humour, beamed from Mrs Robyâs twinkling black eyes as she gazed steadily in the seamanâs face, but she made no other acknowledgment of his speech than a slight inclination of her head, which caused her tall cap to quiver. Captain Wopper, regarding this as a favourable sign, went on.
âYou was once, maâam, Iâm told, before beinâ a nuss in the family of which youâve made mention, a matron, or somethinâ oâ that sort, in a foundlinâ hospitalâin your young days, maâam?â
Again Mrs Roby admitted the charge, and demanded to know, âwhat then?â
âAh, jusâ soâthatâs what Iâm cominâ to,â said Captain Wopper, drawing his large hand over his beard. âYou was present in that hospital, maâam, was you not, one dark November morning, when a porter-cask was left at the door by some person unknown, who cut his cable and cleared off before the door was opened,âwhich cask, havinâ on its head two Xâs, and beinâ labelled, âThis side up, with care,â contained two healthy little babby boys?â
Mrs Roby, becoming suddenly grave and interested, again said, âI was.â
âJusâ so,â continued the captain, âyou seem to be the right craftââooman, I meanâthat Iâm in search of. These two boys, who were supposed to be brothers, because of their each havinâ a brown mole of exactly the same size and shape on their left arms, just below their elbows, were named âStout,â after the thing in which they was headed up, the one beinâ christened James, the other Willum?â
âYes, yes,â replied the little old woman eagerly, âand a sweet lovely pair they was when the head of that barrel was took off, lookinâ out of the straw in which they was packed like two little cheruphims, though they did smell strong of the double X, and was a little elevated because of the fumes that âung about the wood. But how do you come to know all this, sir, and why do you ask?â
âExcuse me, maâam,â replied the sailor with a smile, which curled up his huge moustache expressively,ââyou shall know presently, but I must make quite sure that Iâm aboard ofâthat is to say, that you are the right âooman. May I ask, maâam, what became of these two cheruphims, as youâve very properly named âem?â
âCertainly,â answered Mrs Roby, âthe elder boyâwe considered him the elder, because he was the first took out of the barrelâwas a stoodious lad, and clever. He got into a railway company, I believe, and became a rich manâmarried a lady, Iâm told,âand changed his name to Stoutley, so âtis said, not thinkinâ his right name suitable to his circumstances, which, to say truth, it wasnât, because he was very thin. Iâve heard it said that his family was extravagant, and that he went to California to seek his brother, and look after some property, and died there, but Iâm not rightly sure, for he was a close boy, and latterly I lost all knowledge of him and his family.â
âAnd the other cheruphim, Willum,â said the sailor, âwhat of him?â
âAh!â exclaimed Mrs Roby, a flush suffusing her wrinkled countenance, while her black eyes twinkled more than usual, âhe was a jewel, he was. They said in the hospital that he was a wild good-for-nothing boy, but I never thought him so. He was always fond of meâvery fond of me, and I of him. It is true he could never settle to anythink, and at last ran away to sea, when about twelve year old; but he didnât remain long at that either, for when he got to California, he left his ship, and was not heard of for a long time after that. I thought he was dead or drowned, but at last I got a letter from him, enclosing money, anâ saying he had been up at the noo gold-diggings, anâ had been lucky, dear boy, and he wanted to share his luck with me, an would never, never, forget me; but he didnât need to send me money to prove that. He has continued to send me a little every year since then;âah! itâs many, many years now,âay, ay, many years.â
She sighed, and looked wistfully at the spark of fire in the grate that was making ineffectual attempts to boil the little tea-kettle with the defiant spout; âbut why,â she continued, looking up suddenly, âwhy do you ask about him?â
âBecause I knew him,â replied Captain Wopper, searching for something which appeared to be lost in the depths of one of his capacious pockets. âWillum Stout was a chum of mine. We worked together at the Californy gold-mines for many a year as partners, and, when at last weâd made what we thought enough, we gave it up anâ came down to San Francisco together, anâ set up a hotel, under the name of the âJolly Tars,â by Stout and Company. I was the Company, maâam; anâ, for the matter oâ that I may say I was the Stout too, for both of us answered to the Stout or the Company, accordinâ as we was addressed, dâee see? When Company thought heâd made enough money to entitle him to a holiday, he came home, as you see; but before leavinâ, Willum said to him, âCompany, my lad, wâen you get home, youâll go and see that old âoom of the name of Roby, whom Iâve often told you about. She lives in Lunun, somewheres down by the river in a place called Grubbâs Court. She was very good to me, that old âoom was, when she was young, as Iâve told you before. You go anâ give her my blessinââWillumâs blessinââand this here bag and that there letter.â âYes,â says I, âWillum, Iâll do it, my boy, as soon as ever I set futt on British soil.â I did set futt on British soil this morning, and thereâs the letter; also the bag; so, you see, old lady, Iâve kepâ my promise.â
Captain Wopper concluded by placing a small but heavy canvas bag, and a much-soiled letter, in Mrs Robyâs lap.
To say that the little old woman seized the letter with eager delight, would convey but a faint idea of her feelings as she opened it with trembling hands, and read it with her bright black eyes.
She read it half aloud, mingled with commentary, as she proceeded, and once or twice came to a pause over an illegible word, on which occasions her visitor helped her to the word without looking at the letter. This circumstance struck her at last as somewhat singular, for she looked up suddenly, and said, âYou appear, sir, to be familiar with the contents of my letter.â
âThatâs true, maâam,â replied Captain Wopper, who had been regarding the old woman with a benignant smile; âWillum read it to me before I left, a-purpose to enable me to translate the ill-made pot-hooks and hangers, because, dâee see, we were more used to handlinâ the pick and shovel out there than the pen, anâ Willum used to say he never was much of a dab at a letter. He never wrote you very long ones, maâam, I believe?â
Mrs Roby looked at the fire pensively, and said,
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