Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Shifting Winds: A Tough Yarn by R. M. Ballantyne (best free ebook reader txt) 📖
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «Shifting Winds: A Tough Yarn by R. M. Ballantyne (best free ebook reader txt) 📖». Author R. M. Ballantyne
“But are you sure, ma’am, that Master Kenneth will go to visit Colonel Crusty?”
“O yes, he has promised to escort me there, and then he’ll see Bella, and, of course, he won’t wish to leave after that.”
Mrs Niven shook her head, and observed that she rather feared Miss Lizzie Gordon’s image was already indelibly impressed on Master Kenneth’s heart, but Miss Peppy replied that that was all nonsense, and that, at all events, her brother, Mr Stuart, would never permit it. She did not find it difficult to gain over Mrs Niven to her views, for that worthy woman, (like many other worthy women in this world), held the opinion that a “good match” meant a match where money existed on one or both sides, and that love was a mere boyish and girlish idea, which should not be taken into consideration at all.
The two were still discussing this important subject when Mrs Gaff laid violent hands on the door-bell.
On being admitted to the presence of Miss Peppy, Mrs Gaff sat down on the packed trunk, and all but stove in the lid; whereupon she rose hastily with many apologies, and afterwards in her confusion sat down on the bonnet-box, which she stove in so completely as to render it hors-de-combat for all future time.
“I’m awful sorry,” she began.
“Oh, no harm; at least no matter,” said Miss Peppy, “it’s quite a useless sort of thing,” (this was literally true), “and I mean to get a new one immediately.”
Mrs Gaff became suddenly comforted, and said, with a bland smile, that, having heard only that morning of her intention to visit the town of Athenbury, she had called to ask her to do her a great favour.
“With the greatest pleasure; what can I do for you?” said Miss Peppy, who was the essence of good-nature.
“Thank ’ee, ma’am, it’s to take charge o’ a bit parcel, about the size of my head, or thereaway, and give it to a poor relation o’ mine as lives there when he an’t afloat.”
“A seaman?” said Miss Peppy.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well; but,” continued Miss Peppy, “you say the parcel is the size of your head: do you mean your head with or without the bonnet? Excuse me for—”
“La! ma’am, without the bonnet, of course. It may perhaps be rather heavy, but I an’t quite sure yet. I’ll let you know in an hour or so.”
Mrs Gaff rose abruptly, left the house, with Tottie, precipitately, and made her way to the bank, where she presented herself with a defiant air to the teller who had originally supplied her with a hundred pounds in gold. She always became and looked defiant, worthy woman, on entering the bank, having become unalterably impressed with the idea that all the clerks, tellers, and directors had entered into an agreement to throw every possible difficulty in the way of her drawing out money, and having resolved in her own determined way that she wouldn’t give in as long as, (to borrow one of her husband’s phrases), “there was a shot in the locker!”
“Now, sir,” she said to the elderly teller, “I wants twenty pounds, if there’s as much in the shop.”
The elderly teller smiled, and bade her sit down while he should write out the cheque for her. She sat down, gazing defiance all round her, and becoming painfully aware that there were a number of young men behind various screened rails whose noses were acting as safety-valves to their suppressed feelings.
When the cheque was drawn out and duly signed, Mrs Gaff went to the rails and shook it as she might have shaken in the face of her enemies the flag under which she meant to conquer or to die. On receiving it back she returned and presented it to the elderly teller with a look that said plainly—“There! refuse to cash that at your peril;” but she said nothing, she only snorted.
“How will you have it?” inquired the teller blandly.
“In coppers,” said Mrs Gaff stoutly.
“Coppers!” exclaimed the teller in amazement.
“Yes, coppers.”
“My good woman, are you aware that you could scarcely lift such a sum in coppers.”
“How many would it make?” she inquired with an air of indecision.
“Four thousand eight hundred pence.”
Mrs Gaff’s resolution was shaken; after a few moments’ consideration she said she would take it in silver, and begged to have it mixed—with a good number of sixpences amongst it.
“You see, my lamb,” she whispered to Tottie, while the teller was getting the money, “my poor cousin George is a’most too old to go to sea now, and he han’t got a penny to live on, an’ so I wants to gladden his heart and astonish his eyes wi’ a sight o’ such a heap o’ silver. Mix it all together, sir,” she said to the teller.
He obeyed, and pushed the pile towards Mrs Gaff, who surveyed it first with unmixed delight; but gradually her face was clouded with a look of concern as she thought of the counting of it.
If the counting of the gold was terrible to her, the counting of the silver was absolutely appalling, for the latter, consisting as it did of half-crowns, shillings, and sixpences, numbered nearly five hundred pieces.
The poor woman applied herself to the task with commendable energy, but in ten minutes she perceived that the thing was utterly beyond her powers, so she suddenly exclaimed to Tottie, who stood looking on with tears in her eyes,—“Surely the elderly teller must be an honest man, and would never cheat me;” having come to which conclusion she swept the silver into the bag previously prepared for it, and consigned that to the basket which was the inseparable companion of her left arm. Thereafter she left the bank and hastened to a grocer in the town with whom she was acquainted, and from whom she obtained brown paper and twine with which she made the money up into a parcel. Her next act was to purchase a new bonnet-box, which she presented to Miss Peppy with many earnest protestations that she would have got a better if she could, but a better was not to be had in town for love or money.
Having executed all her commissions, Mrs Gaff returned to Cove and spent an hour or two with Tottie in the four-poster—not by any means because she was lazy, but because it afforded her peculiar and inexpressible pleasure to stare at the damask curtains and wonder how Gaff would like it, and think of the surprise that he would receive on first beholding such a bed. So anxious did the good woman become in her desire to make the most of the new bed, that she once or twice contemplated the propriety of Stephen and herself, and the Bu’ster and Tottie, spending the first night, “after their return,” all together in it, but on mature consideration she dismissed the idea as untenable.
The scene is changed now to the railway station at Wreckumoft, where there is the usual amount of bustle and noise. The engines are shrieking and snorting as if nothing on earth could relieve their feelings but bursting. Bells are ringing; porters are hurrying to and fro with luggage on trucks, to the risk of passengers’ shins and toes; men, women, and children, young and old, high and low, rich and poor, are mixed in confusion on the platform, some insanely attempting to force their way into a train that is moving off, under the impression that it is their train, and they are too late “after all!” Others are wildly searching for lost luggage. Many are endeavouring to calm their own spirits, some are attempting to calm the spirits of others. Timid old ladies, who cannot get reconciled to railways at all, are convinced that “something is going to happen,” and testy old gentlemen are stumping about in search of wives and daughters, wishing that railways had never been invented, while a good many self-possessed individuals of both sexes are regarding the scene with serene composure.
When Miss Peppy made her appearance she was evidently not among the latter class. She was accompanied by Kenneth, and attended by Mrs Niven.
Neither mistress nor maid had ever been in a railway station before. They belonged to that class of females who are not addicted to travelling, and who prefer stage-coaches of the olden times to railways. They entered the station, therefore, with some curiosity and much trepidation—for it chanced to be an excursion day, and several of the “trades” of Athenbury were besieging the ticket-windows.
“It is very good of you to go with me, Kennie,” said Miss Peppy, hugging her nephew’s arm.
“My dear aunt, it is a pleasure, I assure you,” replied Kenneth; “I am quite anxious to make the acquaintance of Colonel Crusty and his pretty daughter.”
“O dear! what a shriek! Is anything wrong, Kennie?”
“Nothing, dear aunt; it is only a train about to start.”
“What’s the matter with you, Niven?” inquired Miss Peppy with some anxiety, on observing that the housekeeper’s face was ashy pale.
“Nothink, ma’am; only I feels assured that everythink is a-goin’ to bu’st, ma’am.”
She looked round hastily, as if in search of some way of escape, but no such way presented itself.
“Look-out for your legs, ma’am,” shouted a porter, as he tried to stop his truck of luggage.
Mrs Niven of course did not hear him, and if she had heard him, she would not have believed it possible that he referred to her legs, for she wore a very long dress, and was always scrupulously particular in the matter of concealing her ankles. Fortunately Kenneth observed her danger, and pulled her out of the way with unavoidable violence.
“It can’t ’old on much longer,” observed Niven with a sigh, referring to an engine which stood directly opposite to her in tremulous and apparently tremendous anxiety to start.
The driver vented his impatience just then by causing the whistle to give three sharp yelps, which produced three agonising leaps in the bosoms of Miss Peppy and Mrs Niven.
“Couldn’t it all be done with a little less noise,” said Miss Peppy to Kenneth, “it seems to me so aw— oh! look! surely that old gentleman has gone mad!”
“Not he,” said Kenneth with a smile; “he has only lost his wife in the crowd, and thinks the train will start before he finds her; see, she is under the same impression, don’t you see her rushing wildly about looking for her husband, they’ll meet in a moment or two if they keep going in the same direction, unless that luggage-truck should interfere.”
“Look-out, sir!” shouted the porter at that moment. The old gentleman started back, and all but knocked over his wife, who screamed, recognised him, and clung to his arm with thankful tenacity.
A bell rang.
The crowd swayed to and fro; agitated people became apparently insane; timid people collapsed; strong people pushed, and weak folk gave way. If any man should be sceptical in regard to the doctrine of the thorough depravity of the human heart, he can have his unbelief removed by going into and observing the conduct of an eager crowd!
“What a hinfamous state of things!” observed Mrs Niven.
“Yell!—shriek!” went the engine whistle, drowning Miss Peppy’s reply.
“Take your seats!” roared the guard.
The engine gave a sudden snort, as if to say, “You’d better, else I’m off without you.”
“Now aunt,” said Kenneth, “come along.”
In another moment Miss Peppy was seated in a carriage, with her head out of the window, talking earnestly and rapidly to Mrs Niven.
It seemed as if she had reserved all the household directions which she
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