by H. G. Wells
11. MR. BRISHER'S TREASURE
"You can't be TOO careful WHO you marry," said Mr. Brisher, and pulledthoughtfully with a fat-wristed hand at the lank moustache that hideshis want of chin.
"That's why--" I ventured.
"Yes," said Mr. Brisher, with a solemn light in his bleary, blue-greyeyes, moving his head expressively and breathing alcohol INTIMATELY atme. "There's lots as 'ave 'ad a try at me--many as I could name in thistown--but none 'ave done it--none."
I surveyed the flushed countenance, the equatorial expansion, themasterly carelessness of his attire, and heaved a sigh to think thatby reason of the unworthiness of women he must needs be the last of hisrace.
"I was a smart young chap when I was younger," said Mr. Brisher. "I 'admy work cut out. But I was very careful--very. And I got through..."
He leant over the taproom table and thought visibly on the subject of mytrustworthiness. I was relieved at last by his confidence.
"I was engaged once," he said at last, with a reminiscent eye on theshuv-a'penny board.
"So near as that?"
He looked at me. "So near as that. Fact is--" He looked about him,brought his face close to mine, lowered his voice, and fenced off anunsympathetic world with a grimy hand. "If she ain't dead or married tosome one else or anything--I'm engaged still. Now." He confirmed thisstatement with nods and facial contortions. "STILL," he said, ending thepantomime, and broke into a reckless smile at my surprise. "ME!"
"Run away," he explained further, with coruscating eyebrows. "Come 'ome.
"That ain't all.
"You'd 'ardly believe it," he said, "but I found a treasure. Found aregular treasure."
I fancied this was irony, and did not, perhaps, greet it with propersurprise. "Yes," he said, "I found a treasure. And come 'ome. I tell youI could surprise you with things that has happened to me." And for sometime he was content to repeat that he had found a treasure--and left it.
I made no vulgar clamour for a story, but I became attentive to Mr.Brisher's bodily needs, and presently I led him back to the desertedlady.
"She was a nice girl," he said--a little sadly, I thought. "ANDrespectable."
He raised his eyebrows and tightened his mouth to express extremerespectability--beyond the likes of us elderly men.
"It was a long way from 'ere. Essex, in fact. Near Colchester. It waswhen I was up in London--in the buildin' trade. I was a smart youngchap then, I can tell you. Slim. 'Ad best clo'es 's good as anybody.'At--SILK 'at, mind you." Mr. Brisher's hand shot above his head towardsthe infinite to indicate it silk hat of the highest. "Umbrella--niceumbrella with a 'orn 'andle. Savin's. Very careful I was...."
He was pensive for a little while, thinking, as we must all come tothink sooner or later, of the vanished brightness of youth. But herefrained, as one may do in taprooms, from the obvious moral.
"I got to know 'er through a chap what was engaged to 'er sister. Shewas stopping in London for a bit with an aunt that 'ad a 'am an' beefshop. This aunt was very particular--they was all very particularpeople, all 'er people was--and wouldn't let 'er sister go out with thisfeller except 'er other sister, MY girl that is, went with them. So 'ebrought me into it, sort of to ease the crowding. We used to go walks inBattersea Park of a Sunday afternoon. Me in my topper, and 'im in 'is;and the girl's--well--stylish. There wasn't many in Battersea Park 'adthe larf of us. She wasn't what you'd call pretty, but a nicer girl Inever met. _I_ liked 'er from the start, and, well--though I say it whoshouldn't--she liked me. You know 'ow it is, I dessay?"
I pretended I did.
"And when this chap married 'er sister--'im and me was greatfriends--what must 'e do but arst me down to Colchester, close by whereShe lived. Naturally I was introjuced to 'er people, and well, verysoon, her and me was engaged."
He repeated "engaged."
"She lived at 'ome with 'er father and mother, quite the lady, in a verynice little 'ouse with a garden--and remarkable respectable people theywas. Rich you might call 'em a'most. They owned their own 'ouse--gotit out of the Building Society, and cheap because the chap who had itbefore was a burglar and in prison--and they 'ad a bit of free'old land,and some cottages and money 'nvested--all nice and tight: they was whatyou'd call snug and warm. I tell you, I was On. Furniture too. Why! They'ad a pianner. Jane--'er name was Jane--used to play it Sundays, andvery nice she played too. There wasn't 'ardly a 'im toon in the book sheCOULDN'T play...
"Many's the evenin' we've met and sung 'ims there, me and 'er and thefamily.
"'Er father was quite a leadin' man in chapel. You should ha' seen himSundays, interruptin' the minister and givin' out 'ims. He had goldspectacles, I remember, and used to look over 'em at you while he sanghearty--he was always great on singing 'earty to the Lord--and when HEgot out o' toon 'arf the people went after 'im--always. 'E was that sortof man. And to walk be'ind 'im in 'is nice black clo'es--'is 'at was abrimmer--made one regular proud to be engaged to such a father-in-law.And when the summer came I went down there and stopped a fortnight.
"Now, you know there was a sort of Itch," said Mr. Brisher. "We wantedto marry, me and Jane did, and get things settled. But 'E said I 'adto get a proper position first. Consequently there was a Itch.Consequently, when I went down there, I was anxious to show that I was agood useful sort of chap like. Show I could do pretty nearly everythinglike. See?"
I made a sympathetic noise.
"And down at the bottom of their garden was a bit of wild part like. SoI says to 'im, 'Why don't you 'ave a rockery 'ere?' I says. 'It 'ud looknice.'
"'Too much expense,' he says.
"'Not a penny,' says I. 'I'm a dab at rockeries. Lemme make you one.'You see, I'd 'elped my brother make a rockery in the beer garden be'ind'is tap, so I knew 'ow to do it to rights. 'Lemme make you one,' I says.'It's 'olidays, but I'm that sort of chap, I 'ate doing nothing,' Isays. 'I'll make you one to rights.' And the long and the short of itwas, he said I might.
"And that's 'ow I come on the treasure."
"What treasure?" I asked.
"Why!" said Mr. Brisher, "the treasure I'm telling you about, what's thereason why I never married."
"What!--a treasure--dug up?"
"Yes--buried wealth--treasure trove. Come out of the ground. What Ikept on saying--regular treasure...." He looked at me with unusualdisrespect.
"It wasn't more than a foot deep, not the top of it," he said. "I'd'ardly got thirsty like, before I come on the corner."
"Go on," I said. "I didn't understand."
"Why! Directly I 'it the box I knew it was treasure. A sort of instincttold me. Something seemed to shout inside of me--'Now's your chance--lielow.' It's lucky I knew the laws of treasure trove or I'd 'ave beenshoutin' there and then. I daresay you know--"
"Crown bags it," I said, "all but one per cent. Go on. It's a shame.What did you do?"
"Uncovered the top of the box. There wasn't anybody in the garden orabout like. Jane was 'elping 'er mother do the 'ouse. I WAS excited--Itell you. I tried the lock and then gave a whack at the hinges. Open itcame. Silver coins--full! Shining. It made me tremble to see 'em. Andjest then--I'm blessed if the dustman didn't come round the back of the'ouse. It pretty nearly gave me 'eart disease to think what a fool Iwas to 'ave that money showing. And directly after I 'eard the chap nextdoor--'e was 'olidaying, too--I 'eard him watering 'is beans. If only'e'd looked over the fence!"
"What did you do?"
"Kicked the lid on again and covered it up like a shot, and went ondigging about a yard away from it--like mad. And my face, so to speak,was laughing on its own account till I had it hid. I tell you I wasregular scared like at my luck. I jest thought that it 'ad to bekep' close and that was all. 'Treasure,' I kep' whisperin' to myself,'Treasure' and ''undreds of pounds, 'undreds, 'undreds of pounds.'Whispering to myself like, and digging like blazes. It seemed to me thebox was regular sticking out and showing, like your legs do under thesheets in bed, and I went and put all the earth I'd got out of my 'olefor the rockery slap
on top of it. I WAS in a sweat. And in the midst ofit all out toddles 'er father. He didn't say anything to me, jest stoodbehind me and stared, but Jane tole me afterwards when he went indoors,'e says, 'That there jackanapes of yours, Jane'--he always called mea jackanapes some'ow--'knows 'ow to put 'is back into it after all.'Seemed quite impressed by it, 'e did."
"How long was the box?" I asked, suddenly.
"'Ow long?" said Mr. Brisher.
"Yes--in length?"
"Oh! 'bout so-by-so." Mr. Brisher indicated a moderate-sized trunk.
"FULL?" said I.
"Full up of silver coins--'arf-crowns, I believe."
"Why!" I cried, "that would mean--hundreds of pounds."
"Thousands," said Mr. Brisher, in a sort of sad calm. "I calc'lated itout."
"But how did they get there?"
"All I know is what I found. What I thought at the time was this. Thechap who'd owned the 'ouse before 'er father 'd been a regular slap-upburglar. What you'd call a 'igh-class criminal. Used to drive 'istrap--like Peace did." Mr. Brisher meditated on the difficulties ofnarration and embarked on a complicated parenthesis. "I don't know if Itold you it'd been a burglar's 'ouse before it was my girl's father's,and I knew 'e'd robbed a mail train once, I did know that. It seemed tome--"
"That's very likely," I said. "But what did you do?"
"Sweated," said Mr. Brisher. "Regular run orf me. All that morning,"said Mr. Brisher, "I was at it, pretending to make that rockery andwondering what I should do. I'd 'ave told 'er father p'r'aps, only I wasdoubtful of 'is honesty--I was afraid he might rob me of it like, andgive it up to the authorities--and besides, considering I was marryinginto the family, I thought it would be nicer like if it came through me.Put me on a better footing, so to speak. Well, I 'ad three days beforeme left of my 'olidays, so there wasn't no hurry, so I covered it up andwent on digging, and tried to puzzle out 'ow I was to make sure of it.Only I couldn't.
"I thought," said Mr. Brisher, "AND I thought. Once I got regulardoubtful whether I'd seen it or not, and went down to it and 'ad ituncovered again, just as her ma came out to 'ang up a bit of washin'she'd done. Jumps again! Afterwards I was just thinking I'd 'ave anothergo at it, when Jane comes to tell me dinner was ready. 'You'll want it,'she said, 'seeing all the 'ole you've dug.'
"I was in a regular daze all dinner, wondering whether that chap nextdoor wasn't over the fence and filling 'is pockets. But in the afternoonI got easier in my mind--it seemed to me it must 'ave been there so longit was pretty sure to stop a bit longer--and I tried to get up a bit ofa discussion to dror out the old man and see what 'E thought of treasuretrove."
Mr. Brisher paused, and affected amusement at the memory.
"The old man was a scorcher," he said; "a regular scorcher."
"What!" said I; "did he--?"
"It was like this," explained Mr. Brisher, laying a friendly hand on myarm and breathing into my face to calm me. "Just to dror 'im out, I tolda story of a chap I said I knew--pretendin', you know--who'd found asovring in a novercoat 'e'd borrowed. I said 'e stuck to it, but I saidI wasn't sure whether that was right or not. And then the old manbegan. Lor'! 'e DID let me 'ave it!" Mr. Brisher affected an insincereamusement. "'E was, well--what you might call a rare 'and at Snacks.Said that was the sort of friend 'e'd naturally expect me to 'ave. Said'e'd naturally expect that from the friend of a out-of-work loafer whotook up with daughters who didn't belong to 'im. There! I couldn't tellyou 'ARF 'e said. 'E went on most outrageous. I stood up to 'im aboutit, just to dror 'im out. 'Wouldn't you stick to a 'arf-sov', not if youfound it in the street?' I says. 'Certainly not,' 'e says; 'certainlyI wouldn't.' 'What! not if you found it as a sort of treasure?''Young man,' 'e says, 'there's 'i'er 'thority than mine--Render untoCaesar'--what is it? Yes. Well, he fetched up that. A rare 'and at'itting you over the 'ed with the Bible, was the old man. And so hewent on. 'E got to such Snacks about me at last I couldn't stand it. I'dpromised Jane not to answer 'im back, but it got a bit TOO thick. I--Igive it 'im..."
Mr. Brisher, by means of enigmatical facework, tried to make me think hehad had the best of that argument, but I knew better.
"I went out in a 'uff at last. But not before I was pretty sure I 'adto lift that treasure by myself. The only thing that kep' me up wasthinking 'ow I'd take it out of 'im when I 'ad the cash."
There was a lengthy pause.
"Now, you'd 'ardly believe it, but all them three days I never 'ad achance at the blessed treasure, never got out not even a 'arf-crown.There was always a Somethink--always.
"'Stonishing thing it isn't thought of more," said Mr. Brisher. "Findingtreasure's no great shakes. It's gettin' it. I don't suppose I slep' awink any of those nights, thinking where I was to take it, what I was todo with it, 'ow I was to explain it. It made me regular ill. And days Iwas that dull, it made Jane regular 'uffy. 'You ain't the same chap youwas in London,' she says, several times. I tried to lay it on 'er fatherand 'is Snacks, but bless you, she knew better. What must she 'ave butthat I'd got another girl on my mind! Said I wasn't True. Well, we had abit of a row. But I was that set on the Treasure, I didn't seem to minda bit Anything she said.
"Well, at last I got a sort of plan. I was always a bit good atplanning, though carrying out isn't so much in my line. I thought itall out and settled on a plan. First, I was going to take all my pocketsfull of these 'ere 'arf-crowns--see?--and afterwards as I shall tell.
"Well, I got to that state I couldn't think of getting at the Treasureagain in the daytime, so I waited until the night before I had to go,and then, when everything was still, up I gets and slips down tothe back door, meaning to get my pockets full. What must I do in thescullery but fall over a pail! Up gets 'er father with a gun--'e was alight sleeper was 'er father, and very suspicious and there was me: 'adto explain I'd come down to the pump for a drink because my water-bottlewas bad. 'E didn't let me off a Snack or two over that bit, you lay abob."
"And you mean to say--" I began.
"Wait a bit," said Mr. Brisher. "I say, I'd made my plan. That put thekybosh on one bit, but it didn't 'urt the general scheme not a bit.I went and I finished that rockery next day, as though there wasn't aSnack in the world; cemented over the stones, I did, dabbed it green andeverythink. I put a dab of green just to show where the box was. Theyall came and looked at it, and sai 'ow nice it was--even 'e was a bitsofter like to see it, and all he said was, 'It's a pity you can'talways work like that, then you might get something definite to do,' hesays.
"'Yes,' I says--I couldn't 'elp it--'I put a lot in that rockery,' Isays, like that. See? 'I put a lot in that rockery'--meaning--"
"I see," said I--for Mr. Brisher is apt to overelaborate his jokes.
"_'E_ didn't," said Mr. Brisher. "Not then, anyhow.
"Ar'ever--after all that was over, off I set for London.... Orf I setfor London."
Pause.
"On'y I wasn't going to no London," said Mr. Brisher, with suddenanimation, and thrusting his face into mine. "No fear! What do YOUthink?
"I didn't go no further than Colchester--not a yard.
"I'd left the spade just where I could find it. I'd got everythingplanned and right. I 'ired a little trap in Colchester, and pretended Iwanted to go to Ipswich and stop the night, and come back next day, andthe chap I 'ired it from made me leave two sovrings on it right away,and off I set.
"I didn't go to no Ipswich neither.
"Midnight the 'orse and trap was 'itched by the little road that ran bythe cottage where 'e lived--not sixty yards off, it wasn't--and I was atit like a good 'un. It was jest the night for such games--overcast--buta trifle too 'ot, and all round the sky there was summer lightning andpresently a thunderstorm. Down it came. First big drops in a sort offizzle, then 'ail. I kep'on. I whacked at it--I didn't dream the old manwould 'ear. I didn't even trouble to go quiet with the spade, and thethunder and lightning and 'ail seemed to excite me like. I shouldn'twonder if I was singing. I got so 'ard at it I clean forgot the thunderand the 'orse and tra
p. I precious soon got the box showing, and startedto lift it...."
"Heavy?" I said.
"I couldn't no more lift it than fly. I WAS sick. I'd never thought ofthat I got regular wild--I tell you, I cursed. I got sort of outrageous.I didn't think of dividing it like for the minute, and even then Icouldn't 'ave took money about loose in a trap. I hoisted one end sortof wild like, and over the whole show went with a tremenjous noise.Perfeck smash of silver. And then right on the heels of that, Flash!Lightning like the day! and there was the back door open and the oldman coming down the garden with 'is blooming old gun. He wasn't not a'undred yards away!
"I tell you I was that upset--I didn't think what I was doing. I neverstopped-not even to fill my pockets. I went over the fence like a shot,and ran like one o'clock for the trap, cussing and swearing as I went. IWAS in a state....
"And will you believe me, when I got to the place where I'd left the'orse and trap, they'd gone. Orf! When I saw that I 'adn't a cuss leftfor it. I jest danced on the grass, and when I'd danced enough I startedoff to London.... I was done."
Mr. Brisher was pensive for an interval. "I was done," he repeated, verybitterly.
"Well?" I said.
"That's all," said Mr. Brisher.
"You didn't go back?"
"No fear. I'd 'ad enough of THAT blooming treasure, any'ow for a bit.Besides, I didn't know what was done to chaps who tried to collar atreasure trove. I started off for London there and then...."
"And you never went back?"
"Never."
"But about Jane? Did you write?"
"Three times, fishing like. And no answer. We'd parted in a bit of a'uff on account of 'er being jealous. So that I couldn't make out forcertain what it meant.
"I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know whether the old man knewit was me. I sort of kep' an eye open on papers to see when he'd giveup that treasure to the Crown, as I hadn't a doubt 'e would, considering'ow respectable he'd always been."
"And did he?"
Mr. Brisher pursed his mouth and moved his head slowly from side toside. "Not 'IM," he said.
"Jane was a nice girl," he said, "a thorough nice girl mind you, ifjealous, and there's no knowing I mightn't 'ave gone back to 'er after abit. I thought if he didn't give up the treasure I might 'ave a sortof 'old on 'im.... Well, one day I looks as usual under Colchester--andthere I saw 'is name. What for, d'yer think?"
I could not guess.
Mr. Brisher's voice sank to a whisper, and once more he spoke behindhis hand. His manner was suddenly suffused with a positive joy. "Issuingcounterfeit coins," he said. "Counterfeit coins!"
"You don't mean to say--?"
"Yes-It. Bad. Quite a long case they made of it. But they got 'im,though he dodged tremenjous. Traced 'is 'aving passed, oh!--nearly adozen bad 'arf-crowns."
"And you didn't--?"
"No fear. And it didn't do 'IM much good to say it was treasure trove."