“Hollo! in the there—I say, you lighter boy!” were words I heard, as I was pacing the deck of the in deep Tom and his father were both in the cabin; there could be no doubt but that they were addressed to me. I looked up, and perceived the grinning, stupid, face of the young clerk, Gubbins. “Why don’t you answer when you’re called to, heh?” continued the numbskull. “You’re wanted up here! Come up directly.”
“Who wants me?” replied I, reddening with anger.
“What’s that to you? Do you mean to obey my order or not?”
“No, I do not,” replied I; “I’m not under the orders of such a fool, thank God; and if you come within my reach, I’ll try if I can’t break your head, thick as it is, as well as your master’s.”
The disappeared, and I continued to pace up and down.
As I afterwards discovered, the message was from Mrs Drummond, who requested to speak to me. Sarah had communicated the real facts of my case, and Mrs Drummond had been convinced that what I had said was correct. She had talked with her husband; she out to him that my conduct under Mr Tomkins had been so exemplary that there must have been some reason for so sudden a change. Sarah had gone down into the counting-house, and obtained the which the senior clerk had torn up. The correctness of it established the fact of one part of my assertions, and that nothing but could have warranted its having been destroyed. Mr Drummond felt more than he chose to acknowledge; he was now aware that he had been too ; even my having refused the money assumed a different appearance; he was puzzled and . Few people like to acknowledge that they have been in error. Mr Drummond, therefore, left his wife to examine further into the matter, and gave her permission to send for me. The message given, and the results of it have been stated. The answer returned was that I would not come, and that I had threatened to break the clerk’s head as well as that of Mr Drummond; for although the scoundrel knew very well that in making use of the word “master,” I referred to the senior clerk, he thought it proper to substitute that of Mr Drummond. The effect of this reply may easily be imagined. Sarah was astonished, Mrs Drummond shocked, and Mr Drummond was almost pleased to find that he could not have been in the wrong. Thus was the made even wider than before, and all communication broken off. Much depends in this world upon messages being correctly given.
In half-an-hour we had hauled out of the tier and dropped down to the American , to take out a of flour, which old Tom had directions to land at the Battersea ; so that I was, for the time, removed from the site of my misfortune. I cannot say that I felt happy, but I certainly felt glad that I was away. I was reckless to a degree that was insupportable. I had a heavy load on my mind which I could not shake off—a upon my spirits—a disgust at almost everything. How well do I with what different feelings I looked upon the few books which Mr Drummond and the Dominie had given me to amuse my leisure hours. I turned from them with contempt, and thought I would never open them again. I felt as if all ties were now cut off, and that I was again to the Thames; my ideas, my wishes, extended no farther, and I surveyed the river and its busy scene as I did before I had been taken away from it, as if all my energies, all my were in future to be bounded by its shores. In the course of four-and-twenty hours a revulsion had taken place, which again put me on the confines of barbarism.
My bargemates were equally dull as I was; they were too partial to me, and had too much kindness of heart, not to feel my situation, and anger at the with which I had been treated. Employment, however, for a time relieved our thoughts. Our cargo was on board of the lighter, and we were again tiding it through the bridges.
We dropped our anchor above Putney Bridge a little after twelve o’clock, and young Tom, with the wish of amusing me, proposed that we should go on shore and walk. “Ah! do my lads, do—it will do you good, Jacob; no use moping here a whole tide. I’ll take care of the ’barkey. Mind you make the boat well fast, and take the sculls into the public-house there. I’ll have the supper under weigh when you come back, and then we’ll have a night on’t. It’s a poor heart that never rejoices; and, Tom, take a bottle on shore, get it filled, and bring it off with you. Here’s the money. But I say, Tom, honour bright.”
“Honour bright, father;” and to do Tom justice, he always kept his promise, especially after the word had passed of “honour bright.” Had there been gallons of spirits under his charge he would not have tasted a drop after that pledge.
“Haul up the boat, Jacob, quick,” said Tom, as his father went into the cabin to fetch an empty bottle. Tom hastened down below forward and brought up an old gun, which he put under the stern sheets before his father came out on the deck. We then received the bottle from him, and Tom called out for the dog Tommy.
“Why, you’re not going to take the dog. What’s the use of that? I want him here to keep watch with me,” said old Tom.
“Pooh! father; why can’t you let the poor devil have a run on shore? He wants to eat grass, I am sure, for I watched him this day or two. We shall be back before dark.”
“Well, well, just as you please, Tom.” Tommy jumped into the boat, and away we went.
“And now, Tom, what are you after?” said I, as soon as we were ten yards from the lighter.
“A’ter, Jacob, going to have a little shooting on Wimbledon Common; but father can’t bear to see a gun in my hand, because I once shot my old mother. I did pepper her, sure enough; her old petticoat was full of shot, but it was so thick that it saved her. Are you anything of a shot?”
“Never fired a gun in my life.”
“Well, then, we’ll fire in turns, and toss up, if you like, for first shot.”
We landed, carried the sculls up to the public-house, and left the bottle to be filled, and then, with Tommy bounding before us, and throwing about his bushy tail with delight, Putney Hill, and arrived at the Green Man public-house, at the corner of Wimbledon Common. “I wonder where green men are to be found?” observed Tom, laughing; “I suppose they live in the same country with the blue dogs my father speaks about sometimes. Now, then, its time to load.”
The bowl of a tobacco pipe, full of powder, was then inserted, with an equal dose of shot, and all being ready we were soon among the furze. A half penny it was my first shot, and fate further decided that a water-wagtail should be the mark. I took good aim, as I thought, at least I took sufficient time, for I followed him with the of the gun for three or four minutes at least, as he ran to and fro; at last I fired. Tommy barked with delight, and the bird flew away. “I think I must have hit it,” said I; “I saw it wag its tail.”
“More proof of a miss than a hit,” replied Tom. “Had you hit it he’d never have wagged his tail again.”
“Never mind,” said I, “better luck next time.”
Tom then knocked a blackbird off a furze bush, and loading the gun, handed it to me. I was more successful than before; a cock sparrow, three yards distant, yielded to the prowess of my arm, and I never felt more happy in my life than in this first successful attempt at murder.
did we over the common, sometimes falling in with -pits half full of water, at others and plains, which obliged us to make a circuit. The gun was fired again and again; but our game-bag did not fill very fast. However, if we were not quite so well pleased when we missed as when we hit, Tommy was, every shot being followed up with a dozen bounds, and half a minute’s barking. At last we began to feel tired, and agreed to a while in a cluster of furze bushes. We sat down, pulled out our game, and spread it in a row before us. It consisted of two sparrows, one greenfinch, one blackbird, and three tomtits. All of a sudden we heard a in the furze, and then a loud . It was the dog, who, something, had forced its way into the bush, and had caught a hare, which having been wounded in the loins by some other sportsman, had dragged itself there to die. In a minute we had taken possession of it, much to the of Tommy, who seemed to consider that there was no co-partnership in the concern, and would not surrender his prize until after admonitory kicks. When we had fairly beaten him off we were in an of delight. We laid the animal out between us, and were admiring it from the ear to the tip of his tail, when we were suddenly with a voice close to us. “Oh, you blam’d young poachers, so I’ve caught you, have I?” We looked up, and the common-keeper. “Come—come along with me; we’ve a nice clink at Wandsworth to lock you up in. I’ve been looking a’rter you some time. Hand your gun here.”
“I should rather think not,” replied I. “The gun belongs to us, and not to you;” and I caught up the gun, and presented the muzzle at him.
“What! do you mean to commit murder? Why, you young !”
“Do you want to commit a robbery?” retorted I, fiercely; “because if you do, I mean to commit murder. Then I shoot him. Tom.”
“No, Jacob, no; you mustn&rsquo............