Adventure stories; Boys -- Fiction; East End (London, England) -- Fiction; Grandfathers -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
Waiting by my grandfather's side while he talked, I was soon aware that
business was brisk in the bar beyond the canvas; and I listened idly to
the hum of custom and debate. Suddenly I grew aware of a voice I
knew--an acrid voice just within the canvas.
"Then if you're useless, I ain't," said the voice, "an' I shan't let it
drop." And indeed it was Mrs. Grimes who spoke.
I looked up quickly at Grandfather Nat, but he was interested in his
discussion, and plainly had not heard. Mrs. Grimes's declaration drew a
growling answer in a man's voice, wholly indistinct; and I found a patch
in the canvas, with a loose corner, which afforded a peep-hole.
Mrs. Grimes was nearest, with her back to the canvas, so that her skirts
threatened to close my view. Opposite her were two persons, in the
nearest of whom I was surprised to recognise the coarse-faced woman I
had seen twice before: once when she came asking confused questions to
Grandfather Nat about the man who sold a watch, and once when she
fainted at the inquest, and Mrs. Grimes was too respectable to stay near
her. The woman looked sorrowful and drawn about the eyes and cheeks, and
she held to the arm of a tall, raw-boned man. His face was seamed with
ragged and blistered skin, and he wore a shade over the hollows where
now, peeping upward, I could see no eyes, but shut and sunken lids; so
that at first it was hard to recognise the fellow who had been talking
to this same coarse-faced woman by Blue Gate, when she left him to ask
those questions of my grandfather; and indeed I should never have
remembered him but that the woman brought him to my mind.
It was this man whose growling answer I had heard. Now Mrs. Grimes spoke
again. "All my fault from the beginning?" she said. "O yes, I like that:
because I wanted to keep myself respectable! My fault or not, I shan't
wait any longer for you. If I ain't to have it, you shan't. An' if I
can't get the money I can get something else."
The man growled again and swore, and beat his stick impotently on the
floor. "You're a fool," he said. "Can't you wait till I'm a bit
straight? You an' your revenge! Pah! When there's money to be had!"
"Not much to be had your way, it seems, the mess you've made of it; an'
precious likely to do any better now, ain't you? An' as to money--well
there's rewards given----"
Grandfather Nat's hand fell on my cap, and startled me. He had
congratulated his friend, approved his plans, made a few suggestions,
and now was ready to resume the walk. He talked still as he took my
hand, and stood thus for a few minutes by the door, exchanging views
with the publican on the weather, the last ships in, and the state of
trade. I heard one more growl, louder and angrier than the others, from
beyond the screen, and a sharper answer, and then there was a movement
and the slam of a door; and I got over the step, and stretched my
grandfather's arm and my own to see Mrs. Grimes go walking up the
street.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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