Fighting the FlamesBallantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
General
Fighting the Flames
Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Fire fighters -- Juvenile fiction; London Fire Brigade -- Juvenile fiction
"Well, mother," resumed Willie, "Mr Auberly gave me a harder rebuke
than you have done, for he made no reply to my speech at all, but went
on as quietly and coolly as if I had not opened my lips. `Now,' said
he, `I happen to have a particular regard for Miss Ward. I intend to
make her my heir, and I cannot consent to her union with a man who has
_nothing_.' `Mr Auberly,' said I (and I assure you, mother, I said
this quite respectfully), `my brother is a man who has little _money_,
no doubt, but he has a good heart and a good head and a strong arm; an
arm, too, which has saved life before now.' I stopped at that, for I
saw it went home. `Quite true,' he replied; `I do not forget that he
saved my lost child's life; but--but--the thing is outrageous--that a
penniless man should wed the lady who is to be my heir! No, sir, I sent
for you to ask you to say to your brother from me, that however much I
may respect him I will not consent to this union, and if it goes on
despite my wishes I shall not leave Miss Ward a shilling.' He had
worked himself up into a rage by this time, and as I felt I would only
make matters worse if I spoke, I held my tongue; except that I said I
would deliver his message at once, as I expected to meet my brother at
home. He seemed sorry for having been so sharp, however, and when I was
about to leave him he tried to smile, and said, `I regret to have to
speak thus to you, sir, but I felt it to be my duty. You talk of
meeting your brother to-night at home; do you not live together?' `No,
sir,' I replied; `my brother lodges close to his station, and I live
with my mother in Notting Hill.'
"`Notting Hill!' he cried, falling back in his chair as if he had been
struck by a thunderbolt. `Your mother,' he gasped, `Mrs Willders--my
sister-in-law--the waterman's widow?' `A _sailor's_ widow, sir,' said
I, `who is proud of the husband, who rose to the top of his profession.'
"`Why did you deceive me, sir?' cried Mr Auberly, with a sudden frown.
`I would have undeceived you,' said I, `when we first met, but you
dismissed me abruptly at that time, and would not hear me out. Since
then, I have not thought it worth while to intrude on you in reference
to so small a matter--for I did not know till this day that we are
related.' He frowned harder than ever at this, and bit his lip, and
then said, `Well, young man, _this_ will make no difference, I assure
you. I desire you to convey my message to your brother. Leave me now.'
I was just on the point of saying `Good-bye, uncle,' but he covered his
face with his hands, and looked so miserable, that I went out without a
word more. There, you've got the whole of _my_ story. What think you
of it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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