The Old Tobacco Shop

"Blamed if we ain't!" said Toby. "It's our own street, and I can almost see the Tobacco Shop from here!"

"Harfter a life of adventure," said Mr. Punch, "one will find it wery pleasant to stand quietly on one's little perch and rest one's legs and see one's old friends go in and hout at the Old Tobacco Shop once more, watching for the 'ands of the clock to come together for a bit of relaxation with one's – "

"All right, young feller!" cried Toby to Freddie. "Come with me. Mr. Punch, take Aunt Amanda home. I'll be with you as soon as I've got Freddie safe."

Aunt Amanda and Mr. Punch went off together towards the Old Tobacco Shop. Mr. Hanlon, after shaking hands all round, departed for the Gaunt Street Theatre, where he would be no longer troubled by the imps, who had long since been destroyed by the Odour of Sanctity. The Churchwarden preferred to enjoy for awhile the comfort of his old chair by the Church wall, and Toby and Freddie left him there, his hands folded placidly across his stomach.

Freddie and Toby crossed the street-car track, hand in hand together. The horse had gone to bed for the night, and there was no danger. All the houses were dark. It was very late. No light was to be seen anywhere, except a gas-lamp at the next corner. The streets were silent and deserted. Freddie yawned.

Freddie's house was dark, like all the rest. A narrow brick passage-way followed a fence to the rear, between this house and the next, and a gate opened from the sidewalk into this passage. Freddie and Toby went through this gate and crept quietly to the backyard of Freddie's house. The kitchen-door was locked, but Toby found a window which was unfastened. He raised it noiselessly, and helped Freddie to climb in. With a whispered good-night the Little Boy left his friend and tiptoed into the house and up the back stairs in the dark to his own room.

His bed was there in its old place, and the covers were turned down. He did not stop to say his prayers. He yawned and stretched his arms. He wanted nothing now but to lie snug and safe under the cool sheets. He threw off his clothes and left them on the floor. He knew where his night-gown was. He crept into bed; he pulled the covers up to his ears; he nestled his head into the pillow, and breathed a deep sigh.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE OLD TOBACCO SHOP

The next morning, when Freddie awoke, his mother and father were standing over his bed.

"I think he had better not go there anymore," his father was saying.

"Oh, I don't think it will do him any harm now," said his mother.

"It all comes of his staying away so long," said his father. "I always told him to hurry back, and just see how long he stayed this time. If he can't come back in less than six months or six years or heaven knows how long, he'd better not go at all."

"Oh," said his mother, "I'm sure he'll come back promptly after this."

"I couldn't," said Freddie. "It took such a long time to get to the Island, and there was all the trouble with the pirates, and it was a terrible long journey before we got to the palace, and of course we couldn't run away from the queen after we'd gone all that long way with her, and the queen's children didn't want me to go anyway, and there wasn't any way to get back, except for finding out how to get to the top of the tower, and maybe I wouldn't have got back at all if I hadn't met the Old Man of the Mountain, and got sick and cured again by Mr. Punch's father, and I might have got drowned when the ship disappeared, or I might have had my head cut off by the pirates, and then you wouldn't have seen me any more, and you'd have been sorry."

His father looked at his mother, and nodded his head.

"He'd better stay in bed today," said he. "We won't talk to him about it until tomorrow."

"Yes," said his mother, "that will be much better. Poor little Freddie!"

Freddie did not know why he should be called poor, but he was still tired from the adventurous life he had recently lived, and he was very glad to remain in bed all day.

The next morning, after his father had said good-bye for the day, his mother allowed him to get up, and a little later to go out into the sunshine. He strolled down the street, enjoying the familiar sights after his long absence. He found his legs a little weak; he must have been very ill indeed at the King's palace, and he could not expect to get over it in one day. He crossed the street-car track, and on the pavement before the church he saw a well-known figure.

The Churchwarden was sitting in his chair tilted back against the wall, smoking a long pipe and reading a newspaper. As Freddie approached he put down his paper and looked at him over his spectacles.

"Good morning," said he. "I'm glad to see you back again. I hear you've been away." And he winked his eye at Freddie in a very knowing manner.

"Yes, sir," said Freddie. "I guess I must have been pretty sick."

"No doubt about it, my son. But of course I knew all the time you'd pull through."

Freddie did not believe it for a moment; obviously the Churchwarden was bragging.

"The street looks pretty good," said Freddie, "after being away so long. Would you rather sit here on the pavement than do anything else?"

"I believe you, son. I'd rather sit here on a sunny day with a pipe and a newspaper than have all the treasure of the Incas."

Freddie was glad to hear that the Churchwarden did not regret the loss of his share of the treasure, though whether Captain Lingo belonged to the Incas he did not know.

"I don't care anything about the treasure myself," said he. "I'm too glad to be well again and back in our own street."

"I'm glad I'm here myself, son. And if you happen to see Toby Littleback this morning, tell him I'm alive and resting well, considering."

"Yes, sir," said Freddie, and continued his stroll.

The Old Tobacco Shop, when he arrived, looked as it had looked on the fateful day when he had last seen it. He paused before the door, and gazed at Mr. Punch. He half expected the little man to step down and shake hands with him; but Mr. Punch did not move a muscle; he did not even look at Freddie; he held out in one hand a packet of black cigars, and his wooden face, if it expressed anything at all, showed the great calm which he must have felt when he got back to his little perch. Freddie looked up at the clock in the tower, with some thought that the hands might be together; but it was a quarter past ten, and anyway Mr. Punch's father was probably by this time far away in some other of his store-rooms about the world.

Freddie entered the shop. Mr. Toby was behind the counter, opening a package of tobacco.

"Aha! young feller!" he cried. "Back again, sure enough! Blamed if it don't seem as if you'd been away from here for a year. And a mighty sick chap you were, that's a fact. I reckon we all thought you were going to die, maybe; by crackey, I never seen anyone so pale in my life. Are you all right now?"

"Yes, sir," said Freddie. "And I'm glad to be back. Are you glad to be here in the shop, the same as ever?"

"Me? You bet I am. You couldn't buy me to leave this shop, not if you offered me all the money that Captain Kidd ever buried. No, sir. And look here, young man; I reckon you ain't surprised to see that the Chinaman's head is gone; eh?"

Freddie looked at the shelf behind Toby, and sure enough, the Chinaman's head was gone. He knew, of course, that it was lying at the bottom of the ocean.

"I kind of lost it one day," said Toby, winking his eye. "Mislaid it, you know, or lost it, one or the other, I don't know which, – but, anyway, I reckon it won't never be found. It's gone. I hope you don't mind it now, do you?"

"No, sir," said Freddie. He was glad to know that Mr. Toby was not still feeling disturbed because he had left it on board The Sieve.

"All right, then," said Toby. "You'd better go in and see Aunt Amanda."

Freddie opened the door at the rear of the shop and went into the back room. Aunt Amanda was sitting by the table, sewing.

On the table were the wax flowers and the album and the double glasses through which you looked at the twin pictures. The room was just as if they had never left it.

"Eshyereerilart," said Aunt Amanda, taking a handful of pins from her mouth. "Bless your dear little heart, I'm glad you're back again. Are you well? Sit down on the hassock."

Freddie took his customary place on the hassock at her feet. He looked up at her and wondered if she were sorry she had been a queen once and was a queen no more.

"Yes'm," said he. "I'm all well now."

"And glad to be back here in the shop again?"

"Yes'm; I cert'n'y am."

"Ah, yes," said Aunt Amanda, "there's no place like the Old Tobacco Shop, after all. I wouldn't exchange it for a palace if you'd give it to me."

"Wouldn't you?" said Freddie, a little surprised at this.

"I should say not. I wouldn't be myself in a palace. I'm pretty well satisfied here."