The Battery and the Boiler: Adventures in Laying of Submarine Electric Cables by - (world best books to read txt) đ
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The continuation of the cable up the Red Sea, the successful termination of the great enterprise, and the start of our hero and his companions for Old England after their work was done, we must unwillingly leave to the readerâs imagination.
Uncle Rik seated in Mr Wrightâs drawing-room; Mr Wright in an easy-chair near the window; Mrs Wrightâwith much of the lustre gone out of her fine eyesâlying languidly on the sofa; Madge Mayland at work on some incomprehensible piece of netting beside her aunt,âall in deep mourning.
Uncle Rik has just opened a telegram, at which he stares, open eyed and mouthed, without speaking, while his ruddy cheeks grow pale.
âNot bad news, I trust, brother,â said poor Mrs Wright, to whom the worst news had been conveyed when she heard of the wreck of the Triton. Nothing could exceed that, she felt, in bitterness.
âWhat is it, Rik?â said Mr Wright, anxiously.
âOh! nothingânothing. That is to say, not bad news, certainly, but amazing news. Boh! Iâm a fool.â
He stopped short after this complimentary assertion, for uncle Rik had somewhere read or heard that joy can kill, and he feared to become an accomplice in a murder.
âCome, Rik, donât keep us in suspense,â said his brother, rising; âsomething has happened.â
âO yes, something has indeed happened,â cried Rik, âfor this telegram is from Sam Shipton.â
âThen Robin is alive!â cried Mrs Wright, leaping up, while Madge turned perfectly white.
âNoâthat is to sayâyesâit may be soâof course must be soâfor,âbah! what an ass I am! Listen.â
He proceeded to read Samâs telegram, while Mrs Wright covered her face with her hands and sank trembling on the sofa.
The telegram having suffered rather severe mutilation at the hands of the foreigners by whom it was transmitted, conveyed a very confusing idea of the facts that were intended, but the puzzling over it by the whole party, and the gradual, though not perfect, elucidation of its meaning, had perhaps the effect of softening the joyful intelligence to a bearable extent.
âNow,â said uncle Rik, while the perspiration of mental effort and anxiety stood on his bald forehead, âthis is the outcome of it all. Sam clearly says âall well,â which means, of course, that Robin is aliveâthank God for that! Then he refers to a previous telegram, which, of course, must be lost, for it hasnât come to hand. Bah! I wonder the nasty things ever do come to hand. Anyhow, that telegram must have been meant to announce their safe arrival at Bombay, undoubtedly.â
âOf courseâI see it now,â said Mrs Wright, with a deep sigh.
âOf course,â echoed Rik. âThen thereâs some queer reference to a ship and a Fiery Queen, and a Stamps and a Shunks, and a Gibson, and a thief, and three bags, and the port of London, which of course means London, and a public-house named, apparently, Tortureââ
âTartar, I think, uncle,â said Madge.
âWell, Tartar if you like, itâs much the same if you catch him. And it winds up with a girlâwhich is not surprisinââwho is to be expectoratedââ
âExpected, surely,â said Madge, with a rather hysterical laugh, for the conflicting feelings within her tended rather to tears.
âSo be it, Madgeâexpected, with an unreadable name beginning with an L,âand thatâs all; and a pretty penny he must have paid to send us such a lot oâ rubbish.â
âIt has brought the oil of gladness to our hearts, brother,â said Mr Wright, âand is worth its cost. But, now, what do you intend to do?â
âDo!â exclaimed Rik, who was never happier than when he could explode his feelings in action. âIâll go this moment to the port of London, find out the owners of the Fiery Queen, make particular inquiries about the Stampses, Shunkses, and Gibsons, visit Torture public-housesâthough theyâre all that, more or lessâand see if I can hear anything about girls to be expectorated, with names beginning with L. Thereâthese are my sailing directions, soâup anchor and away!â
Uncle Rik immediately obeyed his own commands, and spent the remainder of that day in what he styled cruising. And he cruised to some purpose, for although he failed to obtain any information as to the girl, he discovered the owners of the Fairyânot FieryâQueen, who said that she was expected home in a few weeks, but that they knew nothing whatever about the rather remarkable names which he submitted for their consideration. With this amount of information he was fain to rest content, and returned in an elevated state of mind to his brotherâs house.
Some weeks after these events, the Wright family was again seated round the social board, as uncle Rik called it, when two visitors were announced. The social meal happening to be tea, and the drawing-room at that time in dishabille, owing to carpet disturbances, the visitors were shown into the dining-roomâa lady, accompanied by a pretty little girl.
âExcuse my calling at an unusual hour,â said the lady, âbut I trust the occasion of my visit will be a sufficient excuse. I have just arrived from Bombay, and hasten to present a letter from your son, and to deliver over my interesting charge, this dear child, Letta Langley, whomââ
âThe expectorated girl!â shouted uncle Rik, leaping up, âbegins with an L,âtwo Lâs indeed. Bah, Iâm an idiot! Excuse my excitement, madamâpray go on.â
Slightly surprised, but more amused, the lady went on to tell all she knew about Robin and his friends, while the happy mother read snatches of Robinâs letter through her tears, and Mr Wright and Madge plied the lady with questions and tea, and Letta, taking at once to uncle Rik, ecstatified, amazed and horrified that retired sea-captain with her charming earnest little ways, her wonderful experiences, and her intimate acquaintance with pirates and their habits.
A letter from Robin to his mother, and another from Sam to Mr Wright, arrived next morning, and proved to be those which had been written immediately after their landing at Bombay, and had been posted, so the writers thought, at the time their first telegram was despatched. But the letters had been given to Stumps to post, and Stumps was not blessed with a good memory, which may account for the delay in transmission. These letters corroborated all the lady had said. Thus was Letta formally installed in the Wright family, and uncle Rik solemnly charged himself with the discovery of her mother!
âDepend upon it, my dear,â he said, with an amount of self-sufficient assurance and indomitable resolution that carried sweet consolation to the childâs heart, âthat Iâll find your mother if sheâs above ground, though the findinâ of her should cost me the whole of my fortune and the remainder of my life.â
And nobly did Rik redeem his promise. He obtained special introduction to the British Museum, consulted every Directory in existence, hunted up every widow of the name of Langley in the kingdom, and found the right one at last, not three miles distant from his own door in London. Captain Rik, it must be known, had a room in London furnished like a cabin, which he was wont to refer to as his âshipâ and his âbunk,â but he paid that retreat only occasional visits, finding it more agreeable to live with his brother.
It was a fine Sabbath morning when Rik took Lettaâs hand and led her into the presence of her mother. He would not let himself be announced, but pushed the child into the drawing-room and shut the door.
With similar delicacy of feeling we now draw a curtain over the meeting of the mother and the long-lost child.
âItâs almost too much for me, tough old sea-dog though I am, this perpetual cruisinâ about after strange runaway craft,â said uncle Rik, as he and Letta walked hand in hand along the streets one day some weeks later. âHere have I been beatinâ about for I donât know how long, and Iâm only in the middle of it yet. We expect the Fairy Queen in port to-night or to-morrow.â
âBut you wonât hurt poor Stumps when you catch him, will you?â pleaded Letta, looking earnestly up into her companionâs jovial face. âHe was very nice and kind to me, you know, on Pirate Island.â
âNo, Iâll not hurt him, little old woman,â said Rik. âIndeed, I donât know yet for certain that Stumps is a thief; it may be Shunks or it may be Gibson, you see, who is the thief. However, weâll find out before long. Now then, good-bye, Iâll be back soon.â
He shook hands with Letta at Mr Wrightâs house, she and her mother having agreed to reside there until Robinâs return home.
Wending his way through the streets until he reached one of the great arteries of the metropolis, he got into a âbus and soon found himself on the banks of the Thames. Arrived at the docks, one of the first vessels his eyes fell on was the Fairy Queen.
Going on board, the first man he met was the captain, to whom he said, touching his hatâ
âExcuse me, captain; may I ask if you have a man in your crew named Stumps?â
âNo, sir, no such name on my books.â
âNor one named Shunks?â
âNo, not even Shunks,â replied the captain, with a sternly-humorous look, as if he thought the visitor were jesting.
âNor Gibson?â continued Rik.
âYes, Iâve got one named Gibson. What dâye want with him?â
âWell, I have reason to believe that he isâor wasâa friend of a friend of mine, and I should like to see him.â
âOh! indeed,â responded the captain, regarding his visitor with a doubtful look. âWell, Gibson has just got leave to go ashore, and I heard him say to one of his mates he was going to the Tartar public-house, so youâll see him there, probably, for he is not invisible orânarily. But I donât know where the Tartar is.â
âBut I know,â returned Captain Rik; âthank you. Iâll go seek him there.â
Stumps sat alone in one of the boxes of the Tartar public-house, which at that hour chanced to be nearly empty. His face was buried in his hands, and a pot of untasted beer stood at his elbow. Poor Stumps! Conscience had been remarkably busy with him on the voyage home. He would have given worlds to have got back to Bombay, return the ill-gotten bags, and confess his guilt, but it was too lateâtoo late.
There is something very awful in these words, too late! We read of and hear them often, and we use them sometimes, lightly it may be, but it is only when they can be used by ourselves with reference to something very serious, that we have a glimmering of their terrible significance. There is a proverb, âIt is never too late to mend,â which is misleading. When the dream of life is over, and the doom is fixed, it is too late to mend. No doubt the proverb is meant to refer to our condition while this life lasts, but even here it is misleading. When the murderer withdraws the knife and gazes, it may be, horror-struck at the expressionless face of his victim, it is too late. He cannot mend the severed thread of life. When the reckless drunkard draws near the end of his career, and looks in the mirror, and starts to see the wreck of his former self, it is too late. Health will never more return. Not too late, blessed be God, for the salvation of the soul, but too late for the recovery of all that was held dear in the life of earth.
Yes, Stumps had many a time while on the sea muttered to himself, âToo late!â He did so once again in that low public-house near the docks. Uncle Rik overheard him, and a feeling of profound pity arose within him.
âI beg pardon,â he said, and at the first word Stumps looked quickly, almost fiercely, up, âyour
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