Rivers of Ice

“True, true, mother, but, so far as I know, Dr Lawrence don’t know the family. We couldn’t,” said the Captain, looking round the room, dubiously, “ask ’em to take a quiet cup of tea here with us—eh? You might ask Dr Lawrence, as your medical man, and I might ask Miss Emma, as an old friend of her uncle, quite in an off-hand way, you know, as if by chance. They’d never see through the dodge, and would fall in love at once, perhaps—eh?”

Captain Wopper said all this in a dubious tone, looking at the defiant kettle the while, as if propitiating its favourable reception of the idea, but it continued defiant, and hissed uncompromisingly, while its mistress laughed outright.

“You’re not much of a match-maker, I see,” she said, on recovering composure. “No, Captain, it wouldn’t do to ask ’em here to tea.”

“Well, well,” said the Captain, rising, “we’ll let match-makin’ alone for the present. It’s like tryin’ to beat to wind’ard against a cyclone. The best way is to square the yards, furl the sails, and scud under bare poles till it’s over. It’s blowin’ too hard just now for me to make headway, so I’ll wear ship and scud.”

In pursuance of this resolve, Captain Wopper put on his wide-awake, locked up his mother, and went off to dine at the “west end.”

Chapter Five.

In which Several Important Matters are arranged, and Gillie White undergoes some Remarkable and hitherto Unknown Experiences

It is not necessary to inflict on the reader Mrs Stoutley’s dinner in detail; suffice it to say, that Captain Wopper conducted himself, on the whole, much more creditably than his hostess had anticipated, and made himself so entertaining, especially to Lewis, that that young gentleman invited him to accompany the family to Switzerland, much to the amusement of his cousin Emma and the horror of his mother, who, although she enjoyed a private visit of the Captain, did not relish the thought of his becoming a travelling companion of the family. She pretended not to hear the invitation given, but when Lewis, knowing full well the state of her mind, pressed the invitation, she shook her head at him covertly and frowned. This by-play her son pretended not to see, and continued his entreaties, the Captain not having replied.

“Now, do come with us, Captain Wopper,” he said; “it will be such fun, and we should all enjoy you so much—wouldn’t we, Emma?” (“Yes, indeed,” from Emma); “and it would just be suited to your tastes and habits, for the fine, fresh air of the mountains bears a wonderful resemblance to that of the sea. You’ve been accustomed no doubt to climb up the shrouds to the crosstrees; well, in Switzerland, you may climb up the hills to any sort of trees you like, and get shrouded in mist, or tumble over a precipice and get put into your shroud altogether; and—”

“Really, Lewie, you ought to be ashamed of making such bad puns,” interrupted his mother. “Doubtless it would be very agreeable to have Captain Wopper with us, but I am quite sure it would be anything but pleasant for him to travel through such a wild country with such a wild goose as you for a companion.”

“You have modestly forgotten yourself and Emma,” said Lewis; “but come, let the Captain answer for himself. You know, mother, it has been your wish, if not your intention, to get a companion for me on this trip—a fellow older than myself—a sort of travelling tutor, who could teach me something of the geology and botany of the country as we went along. Well, the Captain is older than me, I think, which is one of the requisites, and he could teach me astronomy, no doubt, and show me how to box the compass; in return for which, I could show him how to box an adversary’s nose, as practised by the best authorities of the ring. As to geology and botany, I know a little of these sciences already, and could impart my knowledge to the Captain, which would have the effect of fixing it more firmly in my own memory; and every one knows that it is of far greater importance to lay a good, solid groundwork of education, than to build a showy, superficial structure, on a bad foundation. Come, then, Captain, you see your advantages. This is the last time of asking. If you don’t speak now, henceforth and for ever hold your tongue.”

“Well, my lad,” said the Captain, with much gravity, “I’ve turned the thing over in my mind, and since Mrs Stoutley is so good as to say it would be agreeable to her, I think I’ll accept your invitation!”

“Bravo! Captain, you’re a true blue; come, have another glass of wine on the strength of it.”

“No wine, thank ’ee,” said the Captain, placing his hand over his glass, “I’ve had my beer; and I make it a rule never to mix my liquor. Excuse me, ma’am,” he continued, addressing his hostess, “your son made mention of a tooter—a travellin’ tooter; may I ask if you’ve provided yourself with one yet!”

“Not yet,” answered Mrs Stoutley, feeling, but not looking, a little surprised at the question, “I have no young friend at present quite suited for the position, and at short notice it is not easy to find a youth of talent willing to go, and on whom one can depend. Can you recommend one?”

Mrs Stoutley accompanied the question with a smile, for she put it in jest. She was, therefore, not a little surprised when the Captain said promptly that he could—that he knew a young man—a doctor—who was just the very ticket (these were his exact words), a regular clipper, with everything about him trim, taut, and ship-shape, who would suit every member of the family to a tee!

A hearty laugh from every member of the family greeted the Captain’s enthusiastic recommendation, and Emma exclaimed that he must be a most charming youth, while Lewis pulled out pencil and note-book to take down his name and address.

“You are a most valuable friend at this crisis in our affairs,” said Lewis, “I’ll make mother write to him immediately.”

“But have a care,” said the Captain, “that you never mention who it was that recommended him. I’m not sure that he would regard it as a compliment. You must promise me that.”

“I promise,” said Lewis, “and whatever I promise mother will fulfil, so make your mind easy on that head. Now, mother, I shouldn’t wonder if Captain Wopper could provide you with that other little inexpensive luxury you mentioned this morning. D’you think you could recommend a page?”

“What’s a page, lad?”

“What! have you never heard of a page—a page in buttons?” asked Lewis in surprise.

“Never,” replied the Captain, shaking his head.

“Why, a page is a small boy, usually clad in blue tights, to make him look as like a spider as possible, with three rows of brass buttons up the front of his jacket—two of the rows being merely ornamental, and going over his shoulders. He usually wears a man’s hat for the sake of congruity, and is invariably as full of mischief as an egg is of meat. Can you find such an article?”

“Ha!” exclaimed the Captain. “What is he used for?”

“Chiefly for ornament, doing messages, being in the way when not wanted, and out of the way when required.”

“Yes,” said the Captain, meditatively, “I’ve got my eye—”

“Your weather eye?” asked Lewis.

“Yes, my weather eye, on a lad who’ll fit you.”

“To a tee?” inquired Emma, archly.

“To a tee, miss,” assented the Captain, with a bland smile.

Lewis again pulled out his note-book to enter the name and address, but the Captain assured him that he would manage this case himself; and it was finally settled—for Lewis carried everything his own way, as a matter of course—that Dr George Lawrence was to be written to next day, and Captain Wopper was to provide a page.

“And you’ll have to get him and yourself ready as fast as possible,” said the youth in conclusion, “for we shall set off as soon as my mother’s trunks are packed.”

Next morning, while Captain Wopper was seated conversing with his old landlady at the breakfast-table—the morning meal having been just concluded—he heard the voice of Gillie White in the court. Going to the end of the passage, he ordered that imp to “come aloft.”

Gillie appeared in a few seconds, nodded patronisingly to old Mrs Roby, hoped she was salubrious, and demanded to know what was up.

“My lad,” said the Captain—and as he spoke, the urchin assumed an awful look of mock solemnity.

“I want to know if you think you could behave yourself if you was to try?”

“Ah!” said Gillie, with the air of a cross-examining advocate, “the keewestion is not w’ether I could behave myself if I wos to try, but, w’ether I think I could. Well, ahem! that depends. I think I could, now, if there was offered a very strong indoocement.”

“Just so, my lad,” returned the Captain, nodding, “that’s exactly what I mean to offer. What d’ee say to a noo suit of blue tights, with three rows brass buttons; a situation in a respectable family; a fair wage; as much as you can eat and drink; and a trip to Switzerland to begin with?”

While the Captain spoke, the small boy’s eyes opened wider and wider, and his month followed suit, until he stood the very picture of astonishment.

“You don’t mean it?” he exclaimed.

“Indeed I do, my lad.”

“Then I’m your man,” returned the small boy emphatically, “putt me down for that sitooation; send for a lawyer, draw up the articles, I’ll sign ’em right off, and—”

“Gillie, my boy,” interrupted the Captain, “one o’ the very first things you have to do in larnin’ to behave yourself is to clap a stopper on your tongue—it’s far too long.”

“All right, Capp’n,” answered the imp, “I’ll go to Guy’s Hospital d’rectly and ’ave three-fourths of it ampitated.”

“Do,” said the Captain, somewhat sternly, “an’ ask ’em to attach a brake to the bit that’s left.

“Now, lad,” he continued, “you’ve got a very dirty face.”

Gillie nodded, with his lips tightly compressed to check utterance.

“And a very ragged head of hair,” he added.

Again Gillie nodded.