"And that puts me in mind," said Waldron, who wished to put an end to
the conversation, "that I shall want a couple of pounds before night.
Do, Mary, just step up to Mrs. Hawker's, and ask her to let me have them
on account of the silk." Mary was always ready to comply with the wishes
of her husband, and putting on her cloak, went to Mrs. Hawker's house.
She found her in her back parlour, shewing the silks to two smartly
dressed young ladies. The eldest appeared to be about nineteen, the
other two or three years younger. The countenances of both were
expressive of good humour and liveliness, without much indication of
thought or reflection. Each had selected a sufficient quantity of silk
for a gown, and they were in the act of cheapening their purchases, when
Mary came in. "No, indeed now, Mrs. Hawker, you _must_ take off a
shilling a yard. We really could get it as cheap in London, and, after
all, the English silk they make now is quite as good." "That may be
true," said Mrs. Hawker, "but you must consider, my dear young ladies,
the difficulty I have in getting it, and the risk the poor fellows run."
"Yes, indeed," said Mary, with a sigh, "it is the blood of men that you
are buying."
The young ladies, who had not before seen Mary, as she was waiting near
the door, turned round, and were just going to ask her what she meant,
when one or two loud authoritative raps were heard at the outer door. At
the same moment the maid servant came running in with every symptom of
alarm, saying, in a suppressed voice, "Mistress, Mistress, make haste,
the custom-house officers are here." Mrs. Hawker's countenance changed,
but she was too much used to such occurrences to lose her presence of
mind. "There, ladies, pop the silks under your pelisses--there--quick."
The knocking was repeated more loudly than before. "Who's there," said
Mrs. Hawker, in a shrill tone. A man's voice replied, "Let us in, we
must come in directly." "Coming, sir, coming immediately." then in the
same breath turning to the young ladies, "Stay, that will not do. If
they find you here, they, perhaps, will search you. There, run into that
back pantry, and keep the door tight." Molly, meanwhile, had run off
with the bale of silk to a hiding-place prepared for such occasions,
and Mrs. Hawker hastened to the door.
Before the officers had time to express their anger at being kept
waiting, she put on one of her best smiles, and addressed them with,
"Mr. Scroggins, is it you? Well now, I'm so sorry that you've had to
wait; but the girl was down at the farther end of the garden, and I
happened to be busy with my needle up stairs, and did not come down the
first moment, as I did not know but that she was in the house. But pray
come in--I'm so sorry that I made you wait."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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