Under the Waves: Diving in Deep Waters by R. M. Ballantyne (read book txt) 📖

tell ye always at laste twice as much as I know?” said Rooney, lighting his pipe.

“Well, my dear,” continued Joe, “the short an’ the long of it is, that about the year 1588, the Spaniards sent off a huge fleet of big ships to take Great Britain and Ireland by storm—once for all—and have done with it, but Providence had work for Britain to do, and sent a series o’ storms that wrecked nearly the whole Spanish fleet on our shores. Many of these vessels had plenty of gold dubloons on board, so when divin’ bells and dresses were invented, men began to try their hands at fishin’ it up, and, sure enough, some of it was actually found and brought up—especially off the shores of the island of Mull, in Scotland. They even went the length of forming companies in this country, and in Holland, for the purpose of recovering treasure from wrecks. Well, ever since then, up to the present time, there have been speculative men among divers, who have kept on tryin’ their hands at it. Some have succeeded; others have failed. David Maxwell is one of the lucky ones for the most part, and even when luck fails, he never comes by any loss, for he’s a hard-workin’ man, an’ keeps a tight hold of whatever he makes, whether by luck or by labour.”

“But what about the bad-smellin’ job he’s got on hand just now?” asked Rooney.

“Why, he’s repairin’ the bottom of a gas tank. He got the job through recoverin’ some gold watches that were thrown into the Thames by some thieves, as they were bein’ chased over London Bridge. David found ten of ’em—one bein’ worth fifty pounds. Well, just at that time an experienced and hardy fellow was wanted for the gas-work business, so David was recommended. You know a gas tank, as to look an’ smell, is horrible enough to frighten a hippopotamus, but David went up to the edge of this tank by a ladder, and jumped in as cool as if he’d bin jumpin’ into a bed with clean sheets. He stopped down five hours. Of course, in such filthy water, a light would have been useless. He had to do it all by feelin’, nevertheless, they say, he made a splendid job of it,—the bed of clay and puddle, at the bottom, bein’ smoothed as flat a’most as a billiard table,—besides fixin’ sixteen iron-plates for the gas-holder to rest on. He was to finish the job this afternoon, I believe.” (See Note 1.)

“Ah, he’s a cute feller is David,” observed Rooney, reflectively, as he watched a ring of smoke that rose from his pipe towards the ceiling. “What d’ee intind to turn your hand to if you give up divin’, Joe?”

“If!” said Mrs Baldwin, with a peculiar intonation.

“Well, when you give it up,” said Rooney, with a bland smile.

“I’m not rightly sure,” replied Joe. “In the first place, I’ll watch for the leadings of Providence, for without that, I cannot expect success. Then I’ll go and see Mr Berrington, who has just returned, they say, from his wedding trip. My own wish is to become a sort of missionary among the poor people hereabouts.”

“Why, Joe,” said his friend, “you’ve bin that, more or less, for years past.”

“Ay, at odd times,” returned Joe, “but I should like to devote all my time to it now.”

In pursuance of his plan the ex-diver went the following morning to the sea-shore, and walked in the direction of Sea Cottage, following the road that bordered the sands.

Near to that cottage, about two hundred yards from it, stood a small but very pretty villa. Joe knew its name to be Sea-beach Villa, and understood that it was the abode of his former master and friend, Edgar Berrington. There was a lovely garden in front, full to overflowing with flowers of every name and hue, and trellis-work bowers here and there, covered with jessamine and honeysuckle. A sea-shell walk led to the front door. Up this walk the diver sauntered, and applied the knocker.

The door was promptly opened by a very small, sharp-eyed domestic.

“Is your master at home, my dear?” asked Joe, kindly.

“I ain’t got no master,” replied the girl.

“No!” returned Joe, in some surprise. “Your missus then?”

“My missus don’t live ’ere. I’m on’y loaned to this ’ouse,” said the small domestic; “loaned by Miss Pritty for two days, till they find a servant gal for themselves.”

“Oh!” said Joe, with a smile, “is the gentleman who borrowed you within?”

“No, ’e ain’t,” replied the small domestic.

At that moment Mr Hazlit walked up the path, and accosted Joe.

“Ah, you want to see my son-in-law? He had not yet returned. I expect him, however, to-day. Perhaps, if you call in the afternoon, or to-morrow morning, you may—”

He was interrupted by the sound of wheels. Next moment a carriage dashed round the corner of the garden wall, and drew up in front of the house. Before the old gentleman had clearly realised the fact, he found himself being smothered by one of the prettiest girls in all England, and Joe felt his hand seized in a grasp worthy of a diver.

While Aileen dragged her father into the villa, in order to enable him to boast ever after that he had received the first kiss she ever gave under her own roof, Edgar led Joe to a trellis-work arbour, and, sitting down beside him there, said:—

“Come, Joe, I know you want to see me about something. While these two are having it out indoors, you and I can talk here.”

“First, Mister Eddy,” said Joe, holding out his big horny hand, “let me congratulate you on comin’ home. May the Lord dwell in your house, and write His name in your two hearts.”

“Amen!” returned Edgar, again grasping the diver’s hand. “My dear wife and I expect to have that prayer answered in our new home, for we put up a similar one before entering it. And now, Joe, what is it that you want?”

“Well, sir, the fact is, that my old woman thinks since I smashed my shoulder, that it’s high time for me to give up divin’, and take to lighter work; but I didn’t know you were comin’ home to-day, sir. I thought you’d been home some days already, else I wouldn’t have come to you, but—”

“Never mind, Joe. There’s no time like the present—go on.”

Thus encouraged, Joe explained his circumstances and desires. When he had ended, Edgar remained silent for some minutes.

“Joe,” he said at length, “you used to be fond of gardening. Have you forgotten all about it?”

“Why, not quite, sir, but—”

“Stay—I’ll come back in a few minutes,” said Edgar, rising hastily, and going into the house.

In a few minutes he returned with his wife.

“Joe,” said he, “Mrs Berrington has something to say to you.”

“Mr Baldwin,” said Aileen, with a peculiar smile, “I am greatly in want of a gardener. Can you tell me where I am likely to find one, or can you recommend one?”

Joe, who was a quick-witted fellow, replied with much gravity:—

“No Miss—ma’am, I mean—I can’t.”

“That’s a pity,” returned Aileen, with a little frown of perplexity; “I am also much in want of a cook—do you know of one?”

“No, ma’am,” said Joe, “I don’t.”

“What a stupid, unobservant fellow you must be, Joe,” said Edgar, “not to be able to recommend a cook or a gardener, and you living, as I may say, in the very midst of such useful personages. Now, Aileen, I can recommend both a cook and a gardener to you.”

“You see, ma’am,” interrupted Joe, with profound gravity, and an earnestness of manner that quite threw his questioners off their guard, “this is an occasion when you may learn a valuable lesson at the outset of wedded life, so to speak—namely, that it is much safer an’ wiser, when you chance to be in a difficulty, to apply to your husband for information than to the likes of me; you see, he’s ready with what you want at a moment’s notice.”

Aileen and Edgar were upset by this; they both laughed heartily, and then the former said:—

“Now, Mr Baldwin, we won’t beat any longer about the bush. We have not succeeded in getting a cook, being in the meantime obliged to content ourselves with a temporary loan of the green-grocer’s wife, and of Miss Pritty’s small domestic; therefore I want to engage your wife, who is at present, I believe, open to an engagement. We are also unprovided with a man to tend our garden, look after our pony, and help me in the missionary work, in which I hope immediately to be engaged in this town. Do you accept that situation?”

Aileen said this with such an earnest irresistible air, that Joe Baldwin struck his colours on the spot, and said, “I do!” with nearly as much fervour as Edgar had said these words six weeks before.

The thing was settled then and there, for Joe felt well assured that his amiable Susan would have no objection to such an arrangement.

Now, while this was going on in the bower, Mr Hazlit, observing that his children were occupied with something important, sauntered down the sea-shell road in the direction of his own cottage. Here he met Miss Pritty.

The sight of her mild innocent face called up a thought. Dozens of other thoughts immediately seized hold of the first thought, and followed it. Mr Hazlit was sometimes, though not often, impulsive. He took Miss Pritty’s hand without saying a word, drew her arm within his own, and led her into the cottage.

“Miss Pritty,” he said, sitting down and pointing to a chair, “you have always been very kind to my daughter.”

“She has always been very kind—very kind—to me,” answered Miss Pritty, with a slight look of surprise.

“True—there is no doubt whatever about that,” returned Mr Hazlit, “but just now I wish to refer to your kindness to her. You came, unselfishly, at great personal inconvenience, to China, at my selfish request, and for her sake you endured horrors in connection with the sea, of which I had no conception until I witnessed your sufferings. I am grateful for your self-sacrificing kindness, and am now about to take a somewhat doubtful mode of showing my gratitude, namely, by asking you to give up your residence in town, and come to be my housekeeper—my companion and friend.”

Mr Hazlit paused, and Miss Pritty, looking at him with her mild eyes excessively wide open, gave no audible expression to her feelings or sentiments, being, for the moment, bereft of the power of utterance.

“You see,” continued Mr Hazlit, in a sad voice, looking slowly round the snug parlour, “I shall be a very lonely man now that my darling has left my roof. And you must not suppose, Miss Pritty, that I ask you to make any engagement that would tie you, even for a year, to a life that you might not relish. I only ask you to come and try it. If you find that you prefer a life of solitude, unhampered in any way, you will only have to say so at any time—a month, a week, after coming here—and I will cheerfully, and without remonstrance, reinstate you in your old home—or a similar one—exactly as I found you, even to your small domestic, who may come here and be your private maid if you choose.”

Miss Pritty could not find it in her heart to refuse an offer so kindly made. The matter was therefore settled then and there, just as that of the diver and his wife had been arranged next door.

Is it necessary to say that both arrangements were found, in course of time, to answer admirably? Miss Pritty discovered that housekeeping was her forte, and that she possessed powers of comprehension, in regard to financial matters connected with the payment of debts and dividends, such as she had all her previous life believed to be unattainable anywhere, save in the Bank of England or on the