Rivers of Ice by R. M. Ballantyne (best fiction novels to read TXT) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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âOld âooman,â cried Captain Wopper, whose face had brightened wonderfully during this explanation, âgive us your flipâyour hand. I honour your heart, maâam, and Iâve no respect whatever for your brain!â
âIâm not sure that thatâs a compliment,â said Mrs Roby, with a smile.
Captain Wopper assured her with much solemnity that it might or might not be a compliment, but it was a fact. âWhy, look here,â said he, âyou go and starve yourself, and deny yourself all sorts of little comfortsâwhat then? Why, youâll die long before your time, which is very like taking the law into your own hands, maâam, and then you wonât leave to Netta nearly as much as you might if you had taken care of yourself and lived longer, and saved up after a reasonable fashion. Itâs sheer madness. Why, maâam, youâre starving now, but Iâll put a stop to that. Donât you mind, now, whether Iâm rude or not. You canât expect anything else from an old gold-digger, who has lived for years where there were no women except such as appeared to be made of mahogany, with nothing to cover âem but a coating of dirt and a blue skirt. Besides, Willum told me at parting to look after you and see that you wanted for nothing, which I promised faithfully to do. Youâve some regard for Willumâs wishes, maâam?âyou wouldnât have me break my promises to Willum, would you?â
The Captain said this with immense rapidity and vigour, and finished it with such a blow of his heavy fist on the little table that the cups and plates danced, and the lid of the little tea-pot leaped up as if its heart were about to come out of its mouth. Mrs Roby was so taken by surprise that she could not speak for a few seconds, and before she had recovered sufficiently to do so, Little Netta came in with the butter.
âNow, maâam,â resumed the Captain, when the girl had retired, âhereâs where it is. With your leave Iâll reveal my plans to you, and ask your advice. When I was about to leave Californy, Willum told me first of all to go and find you out, and give you that letter and bag of nuggets, which Iâve done. âThen,â says he, âWopper, you go and find out my brother Jimâs widow, and give âem my love anâ dooty, and this letter, and this bag of nuggets,ââsaid letter and bag, maâam, beinâ now in my chest aboard ship. âSo,â says I, âWillum, I willâtrust me.â âI do,â says he; âand, Wopper,â says he, âkeep your weather eye open, my boy, wâen you go to see âem, because Iâve my suspicions, from what my poor brother said on his deathbed, when he was wandering in his mind, that his widow is extravagant. I donât know,â Willum goes on to say, âwhat the son may be, but thereâs that cousin, Emma Gray, that lives in the house with âem, sheâs all right. Sheâs corresponded with me, off anâ on, since ever she could write, and my brother beinâ something lazy, poor fellar, through havinâ too much to do I fancy, got to throw all the letter-writinâ on her shoulders. You take special note of her, Wopper, and if it should seem to you that they donât treat her well, you let me know.â âWillum,â says I, âI willâtrust me.â âWell, then,â says Willum, âthereâs one other individooal I want you to ferret out, thatâs the gentlemanâhe must be an old gentleman nowâthat saved my life when I was a lad, Mr Lawrence by name. You try to find him out and if you can do him a good turn, do it.â âWillum,â says I, âIâll do itâtrust me.â âI do,â says he, âand when may I expect you back in Californy, Wopper?â âWillum,â says I, âthat depends.â âTrue,â says he, âit does. Give us youâre flipper, old boy, we may never meet again in these terrestrial diggings. Good luck to you. Donât forget my last will anâ testimony as now expressed.â âWillum,â says I, âI wonât.â So, maâam, I left Californy with a sacred trust, so to speak, crossed the sea, and here I am.â
At this point Captain Wopper, having warmed in his subject, took in at one bite as much of the small loaf as would have been rather a heavy dinner for Mrs Roby, and emptied at one gulp a full cup of her tea, after which he stroked his beard, smiled benignantly at his hostess, became suddenly earnest again, and went onâchewing as he spoke.
âNow, maâam, Iâve three questions to ask: in the first place, as itâs not possible now to do a good turn to old Mr Lawrence, I must do it to his son. Can you tell me where he lives?â
Mrs Roby told him that it was in a street not far from where they sat, in a rather poor lodging.
âSecondly, maâam, can you tell me where Willumâs sister-in-law lives,âMrs Stout, alias Stoutley?â
âNo, Captain Wopper, but I daresay Mr Lawrence can. He knows âmost everythink, and has a London Directory.â
âGood. Now, in the third place, where am I to find a lodging?â
Mrs Roby replied that there were plenty to be found in London of all kinds.
âYou havenât a spare room here, have you?â said the Captain, looking round.
Mrs Roby shook her head and said that she had not; and, besides, that if she had, it would be impossible for her to keep a lodger, as she had no servant, and could not attend on him herself.
âMrs Roby,â said the Captain, âa gold-digging seaman donât want no servant, nor no attendance. Whatâs up aloft?â
By pointing to a small trap-door in the ceiling, he rendered the question intelligible.
âItâs a garret, I believe,â replied Mrs Roby, smiling; âbut having no ladder, Iâve never been up.â
âYouâve no objection to my taking a look, have you?â asked the Captain.
âNone in the world,â replied the old woman. Without more ado the seaman rose, mounted on a chair, pushed open the trap-door, thrust his head and shoulders through, and looked round. Apparently the inspection was not deemed sufficiently close, for, to the old womanâs alarm and inexpressible surprise, he seized the edges of the hole with his strong hands, raised himself up, and finally disappeared in the regions above! The alarm of the old woman was somewhat increased by the sound of her visitorâs heavy tread on the boards overhead as he stumbled about. Presently his head appeared looking down through the trap. In any aspect, Captain Wopperâs shaggy head was an impressive one; but viewed in an upside-down position, with the blood running into it, it was peculiarly striking.
âI say, old lady,â he shouted, as if his position recalled the action and induced the tones of a boatswain, âitâll do. A capital berth, with two portholes and a bunk.â
The Captainâs head disappeared, and immediately his legs took its place, suggesting the outrageous idea that he had thrown a somersault. Next moment his huge body slid down, and he stood on the floor much flushed and covered with dust.
âNow, old girl, is it to be?â he said, sitting down at the table. âWill you take me as a lodger, for better and for worse? Iâll fit up the berth on the main-deck, and be my own servant as well as yourâs. Say the word.â
âI can refuse nothing to Willieâs friend,â said old Mrs Roby, âbut really Iââ
âDone, itâs a bargain,â interrupted the Captain, rising abruptly. âNow, Iâll go visit young Mr Lawrence and Mrs Stoutley, and to-morrow Iâll bring my kit, take possession of my berth, and you and I shall sail in company, I hope, and be messmates for some time to come.â
In one of the many mansions of the âwest endâ of London, a lady reclined one morning on a sofa wishing that it were afternoon. She was a middle-aged, handsome, sickly lady. If it had been afternoon she would have wished that it were evening, and if it had been evening she would have wished for the morning; for Mrs Stoutley was one of those languid invalids whose enjoyment appears to be altogether in the future or the past, and who seem to have no particular duties connected with the present except sighing and wishing. It may be that this unfortunate condition of mind had something to do with Mrs Stoutleyâs feeble state of health. If she had been a little more thoughtful about others, and less mindful of herself, she might, perhaps, have sighed and wished less, and enjoyed herself more. At all events her doctor seemed to entertain some such opinion, for, sitting in an easy chair beside her, and looking earnestly at her handsome, worn-out countenance, he said, somewhat abruptly, being a blunt doctor.
âYou must go abroad, madam, and try to get your mind, as well as your body, well shaken up.â
âWhy, doctor,â replied Mrs Stoutley, with a faint smile; âyou talk of me as if I were a bottle of physic or flat ginger-beer.â
âYou are little better, silly woman,â thought the doctor, but his innate sense of propriety induced him only to say, with a smile, âWell, there is at least this much resemblance between you and a bottle of flat ginger-beer, namely, that both require to be made to effervesce a little. It will never do to let your spirits down as you have been doing. We must brighten up, my dear madamânot Brighton up, by the way, weâve had enough of Brighton and Bath, and such places. We must get away to the Continent this summerâto the Pyrenees, or Switzerland, where we can breathe the fresh mountain air, and ramble on glaciers, and have a thorough change.â
Mrs Stoutley looked gently, almost pitifully at the doctor while he spoke, as if she thought him a well-meaning and impulsive, but rather stupid maniac.
âImpossible, my dear doctor,â she said; âyou know I could not stand the fatigues of such a journey.â
âWell, then,â replied the doctor, abruptly, âyou must stop at home and die.â
âOh! what a shocking naughty man you are to talk so.â
Mrs Stoutley said this, however, with an easy good-natured air, which showed plainly that she did not believe her illness likely to have such a serious termination.
âI will be still more naughty and shocking,â continued the doctor, resolutely, but with a twinkle in his eyes, âfor I shall prescribe not only a dose of mountain air, but a dose of mountain exercise, to be takenâand the patient to be well shaken while takenâevery morning throughout the summer and autumn. Moreover, after you return to England, you must continue the exercise during the winter; and, in addition to that, must have an object at the end of your walks and drivesânot shopping, observe, that is not a sufficiently out-of-door object; nor visiting your friends, which is open to the same objection.â
Mrs Stoutley smiled again at this, and said that really, if visiting and shopping were forbidden, there seemed to be nothing left but museums and picture-galleries.
To this the doctor retorted that although she might do worse than visit museums and picture-galleries, he would prefer that she should visit the diamond and gold fields of the city.
âDid you ever hear of the diamond and gold fields of London, Miss Gray?â he said, turning to a plain yet pretty girl, who had been listening in silence to the foregoing conversation.
âNever,â answered Miss Gray, with a look of surprise.
Now, Miss Grayâs look of surprise induces us to state in passing that this young ladyâniece, also poor relation and companion, to Mrs Stoutleyâpossessed three distinct aspects. When grave, she was plain,ânot ugly, observe; a girl of nineteen, with a clear healthy complexion and nut-brown hair, cannot in any circumstances be ugly; no, she
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