Sturdy and Strong; Or, How George Andrews Made His Way

by G. A. Henty

  SURLY JOE.

  "You wonder why I am called Surly Joe, sir? No, as you say, I hope Idon't deserve the title now; but I did once, and a name like thatsticks to a man for life. Well, sir, the fish are not biting atpresent, and I don't mind if I tell you how I got it."

  The speaker was a boatman, a man some fifty years old, broad andweather-beaten; he had but one arm. I had been spending a month'swell-earned holiday at Scarborough, and had been making the most ofit, sailing or fishing every day. Upon my first arrival I had gone outwith the one-armed boatman, and as he was a cheery companion, and hisboat, the _Grateful Mary_, was the best and fastest on the strand, Ihad stuck to him throughout. The boatmen at our watering-places soonlearn when a visitor fixes upon a particular boat, and cease toimportune him with offers of a sail; consequently it became anunderstood thing after a day or two that I was private property, andas soon as I was seen making my way across the wet, soppy sand, whichis the one drawback to the pleasure of Scarborough, a shout would atonce be raised for Surly Joe. The name seemed a singularlyinappropriate one; but it was not until the very day before I wasreturning to town that I made any remark on the subject. By this timewe had become great allies; for what with a bathe in the morningearly, a sail before lunch, and a fishing expedition afterwards, I hadalmost lived on board the _Grateful Mary_. The day had been too clearand bright for fishing; the curly-headed, barefooted boy who assistedJoe had grown tired of watching us catch nothing, and had fallenasleep in the bow of the boat; and the motion, as the boat rose andfell gently on the swell, was so eminently provocative of sleep that Ihad nodded once or twice as I sat with my eyes fixed on my line. Thenthe happy idea had occurred to me to remark that I wondered why mycompanion was called by a nickname which seemed so singularlyinappropriate. Joe's offer to tell me how he obtained it woke me atonce. I refilled my pipe,--an invariable custom, I observe, withsmokers when they are sitting down to listen to a story,--passed mypouch to Joe, who followed my example; and when we had "lighted up"Joe began:

  "Well, sir, it's about twelve years ago. I was a strong, active chapthen--not that I aint strong now, for I can shove a boat over thesandbar with any man on the shore--but I aint as active as I were. Iwarn't called Surly Joe then, and I had my two arms like other men. Mynickname then was Curly; 'cause, you see, my hair won't lay straighton my head, not when it gets as wet as seaweed. I owned my own boat,and the boys that worked with me warn't strangers, like Dick there,but they were my own flesh and blood. I was mighty proud of the twoboys: fine straight tough-built lads was they, and as good-plucked unsas any on the shore. I had lost their mother ten years, maybe, beforethat, and I never thought of giving them another. One of 'em was abouttwelve, just the size of Dick there; the other was a year older. Fullof tricks and mischief they was, but good boys, sir, and could handlethe boat nigh as well as I could. There was one thing they couldn'tdo, sir--they couldn't swim. I used to tell 'em they ought to learn;but there, you see, I can't swim myself, and out of all the men andboys on this shore I don't suppose one in twenty on 'em can swim. Rum,aint it, sir? All their lives in the water or on the water, seeing allthese visitors as comes here either swimming or learning to swim, andyet they won't try. They talks about instinks; I don't believe ininstinks, else everybody who's got to pass his life on the water wouldlearn to swim, instead of being just the boys as never does learn.That year, sir, I was doing well. There was a gentleman and his wifeand darter used to use my boat regular; morning and afternoon they'dgo out for a sail whenever it warn't too rough for the boat to putout. I don't think the old gentleman and lady cared so much for it;but they was just wrapped up in the girl, who was a pale, quiet sorto' girl, who had come down to the sea for her health. She waswonderful fond of the sea, and a deal o' good it did her; she warn'tlike the same creature after she had been here two months.

  "It was a roughish sort of afternoon, with squalls from the east, butnot too rough to go out: they was to go out at four o'clock, and theycame down punctual; but the gentleman says, when he gets down:

  "'We have just got a telegram, Joe, to say as a friend is coming downby the five-o'clock train, and we must be at the station to meet her,she being an invalid; but I don't want Mary to lose her sail, so willtrust her with you.'

  "'You'll take great care of her, Joe, and bring her back safe,' themother says, half laughing like; but I could see she were a littleanxious about lettin' her go alone, which had never happened before.

  "'I'll take care of her, ma'am,' I says; 'you may take your oath I'llbring her back if I comes back myself.'

  "'Good-by, mamma,' the girl says as she steps on the plank; 'don't youfidget: you know you can trust Joe; and I'll be back at half-past sixto dinner.'

  "Well, sir, as we pushed off I felt somehow responsible like, andalthough I'd told the boys before that one reef would be enough, Imade 'em put in another before I hoisted the sail. There warn't manyboats out, for there was more sea on than most visitors care to face;but once fairly outside we went along through it splendid. When we gotwithin a mile of Fley, I asks her if we should turn, or go on for abit farther.

  "'We shall go back as quick as we've come, shan't we, Joe?'

  "'Just about the same, miss; the wind's straight on the shore.'

  "'We haven't been out twenty minutes,' she says, looking at her watch;'I'd rather go a bit farther.'

  "Well, sir, we ran till we were off the brig. The wind was freshening,and the gusts coming down strong; it was backing round rather to thenorth too, and the sea was getting up.

  "'I a'most think, miss, we'd better run into Filey,' I says; 'and youcould go across by the coach.'

  "'But there's no danger, is there, Joe?'

  "'No, miss, there aint no danger; but we shall get a ducking before weget back; there's rain in that squall to windward.'

  "'Oh, I don't care a bit for rain, Joe; and the coach won't get intill half-past seven, and mamma would be in a dreadful fright. Oh, I'dso much rather go on!'

  "I did not say no more, but I put her about, and in another fewminutes the squall was down upon us. The rain came against us as if itwanted to knock holes in the boat, and the wind just howled again. Asharper squall I don't know as ever I was put in. It was so black youcouldn't have seen two boats' length. I eased off the sheet, and putthe helm up; but something went wrong, and--I don't know rightly howit was, sir. I've thought it over hundreds and hundreds of times, andI can't reason it out in any sort of form. But the 'sponsibility ofthat young gal weighed on me, I expect, and I must somehow ha' lost myhead--I don't know, I can't account for it; but there it was, and inless time than it takes me to tell you we were all in the water.Whatever I'd ha' been before, I was cool enough now. I threw one armround the gal, as I felt her going, and with the other I caught holdof the side of the boat. We was under water for a moment, and then Imade shift to get hold of the rudder as she floated bottom upwards.The boys had stuck to her too, but they couldn't get hold of the keel;for you know how deep them boats are forward, drawing nigh a foot ofwater there more than they does astern. However, after a bit, theymanaged to get down to'rds the stern, and get a hand on the keel abouthalfway along. They couldn't come no nigher, because, as you know, thekeel of them boats only runs halfway along. 'Hould on, lads!' Ishouted; 'hould on for your lives! They'll have seen us from thecliff, and 'll have a lugger out here for us in no time.'

  "I said so to cheer them up; but I knew in my heart that a lugger, toget out with that wind on, would have to run right into t'other sideo' the bay before she could get room enough to weather the brig. Thegirl hadn't spoken a word since the squall struck us, except that shegave a little short cry as the boat went over; and when we came up shegot her hands on the rudder, and held on there as well as she couldwith my help. The squall did not last five minutes; and when itcleared off I could look round and judge of our chances. They weren'tgood. There was a party of people on the cliff, and another on thebrig, who were making their way out as far as they could on the brig,for it were about half-tide. They must
have seen us go over as we wentinto the squall, for as we lifted I could see over the brig, and therewas a man galloping on horseback along the sands to'rds Filey as hardas he could go. We were, maybe, a quarter of a mile off the brig, andI saw that we should drift down on it before a boat could beat out ofthe bay and get round to us. The sea was breaking on it, as it alwaysdoes break if there's ever so little wind from the east, and the spraywas flying up fifty feet in places where the waves hit the face of therock. There aint a worse place on all the coast than this, running asit do nigh a mile out from the head, and bare at low water. The wavesbroke over the boat heavy, and I had as much as I could do to hold onby one hand to the rudder, which swung backwards and forwards withevery wave. As to the boys, I knew they couldn't hold on if theycouldn't get onto the bottom of the boat; so I shouted to 'em to tryto climb up. But they couldn't do it, sir; they'd tried already, overand over again. It would ha' been easy enough in calm water; but withthe boat rolling and such waves going over her, and knocking them backagain when they'd half got up, it was too much for 'em. If I'd ha'been free I could have got 'em up by working round to the sideopposite 'em, and given them a hand to haul them up; but as it was,with only one hand free, it took me all my time to hold on where Iwas. The girl saw it too, for she turned her face round to me, andspoke for the first time.

  "'Let me go, please,' says she, 'and help your boys.'

  "'I can't do it,' said I. 'I've got to hold you till we're bothdrowned together.'

  "I spoke short and hard, sir; for, if you'll believe me, I wasactually beginning to hate that gal. There was my own two boysa-struggling for their lives, and I couldn't lend a hand to help 'em,because I was hampered by that white-faced thing. She saw it in myface, for she gave a sort of little cry, and said:

  "'Oh, do--do let me go!'

  "I didn't answer a word, but held on all the harder. PresentlyBill--he was my youngest boy--sang out:

  "'Father, can't you get round and lend us a hand to get up? I can'thold on much longer.'

  "'I can't help you, Bill,' says I. 'I've given my promise to take thisyoung woman back, and I must keep my word. Her life's more precious toher father than yours is to me, no doubt, and she's got to be saved.'

  "It was cruel of me, sir, and altogether unjust, and I knew it waswhen I said it, but I couldn't help it. I felt as if I had a devil inme. I was just mad with sorrow and hopelessness, and yet each wordseemed to come as cold and hard from me as if it was frozen. For amoment she didn't move, and then, all of a sudden like, she gave atwist out of my arms and went straight down. I grabbed at her, andjust got hold of her cloak and pulled her up again. She never movedafter that, but just lay quiet on my arm as if she was dead. Her headwas back, half in, half out of the water; and it was only by the tearsthat run down sometimes through her eyelids, and by a little sob inher breast, that I knew that she was sensible.

  "Presently Bill says, 'Good-by, father. God bless you!' and then helet go his hold and went down. Five minutes afterwards, maybe, thoughit seemed a week to me, Jack did the same.

  "There we was--the girl and I--alone.

  "I think now, sir, looking back upon it, as I was mad then. I feltsomehow as that the gal had drowned my two boys; and the devil keptwhispering to me to beat her white face in, and then to go with her tothe bottom. I should ha' done it too, but my promise kept me back. Ihad sworn she should get safe to shore if I could, and it seemed to methat included the promise that I would do my best for us both to getthere. I was getting weak now, and sometimes I seemed to wander, andmy thoughts got mixed up, and I talked to the boys as if they couldhear me. Once or twice my hold had slipped, and I had hard work enoughto get hold again. I was sensible enough to know as it couldn't lastmuch longer, and, talking as in my sleep, I had told the boys I wouldbe with 'em in a minute or two, when a sound of shouting quite closeroused me up sudden.

  "Then I saw we had drifted close to the brig. Some men had climbedalong, taking hold hand-in-hand when they passed across places wherethe sea was already breaking over, and bringing with them the ropewhich, as I afterwards heard, the man on horseback had brought backfrom Filey. It was a brave deed on their part, sir, for the tide wasrising fast. When they saw I lifted my head and could hear them theyshouted that they would throw me the rope, and that I must leave go ofthe boat, which would have smashed us to pieces, as I knew, if she hadstruck the rocks with us. Where they were standing the rock was fullsix feet above the sea; but a little farther it shelved down, and eachwave ran three feet deep across the brig. They asked me could I swim;and when I shook my head, for I was too far gone to speak now, one of'em jumped in with the end of the rope. He twisted it round the two ofus, and shouted to his friends to pull. It was time, for we weren'tmuch above a boat's length from the brig. Three of the chaps as hadthe rope run down to the low part of the rock and pulled together,while another two kept hold of the end of the rope and kept on therock, so as to prevent us all being washed across the brig together. Idon't remember much more about it. I let go the boat, sank down atonce, as if the girl and I had been lead, felt a tug of the rope, andthen, just as the water seemed choking me, a great smash, and Iremember nothing else. When I came to my right senses again I was in abed at Filey. I had had a bad knock on the head, and my right arm,which had been round the girl, was just splintered. They took it offthat night. The first thing as they told me when I came round was thatthe gal was safe. I don't know whether I was glad or sorry to hear it.I was glad, because I had kept my promise and brought her back alive.I was sorry, because I hated her like pison. Why should she have beensaved when my two boys was drowned? She was well-plucked, was thatgal, for she had never quite lost her senses; and the moment she hadgot warm in bed with hot blankets, and suchlike she wanted to get dryclothes and to go straight on to Scarborough in a carriage. However,the doctor would not hear of it, and she wrote a little letter sayingas she was all right; and a man galloped off with it on horseback, andgot there just as they had got a carriage to the door to drive over toFiley to ask if there was any news there about the boat. They cameover and slept there, and she went back with them next day. I heardall this afterwards, for I was off my head, what with the blow I hadgot and one thing and another, before I had been there an hour. And Iraved and cussed at the girl, they tell me, so that they wouldn't lether father in to see me.

  "It was nigh a fortnight before I came to myself, to find my arm gone,and then I was another month before I was out of bed. They came overto Filey when I was sensible, and I hear they had got the best doctorover from Scarborough to see me, and paid everything for me till I waswell, but I wouldn't see them when they came. I was quite as bitteragainst her as I had been when I was in the sea drowning; and I was sofierce when they talked of coming in that the doctor told them itwould make me bad again if they came. So they went up to London, andwhen I could get about they sent me a letter, the gal herself and herfather and mother, thanking me, I suppose; but I don't know, for Ijust tore 'em into pieces without reading them. Then a lawyer of thetown here came to me and said he'd 'struction to buy me a new boat,and to buy a 'nuity for me. I told him his 'nuity couldn't bring myboys back again, and that I warn't going to take blood-money; and asto the boat, I'd knock a hole in her and sink her if she came. A yearafter that lawyer came to me again, and said he'd more 'structions;and I told him though I'd only one arm left I was man enough still toknock his head off his shoulders, and that I'd do it if he came to mewith his 'structions or anything else.

  "By this time I'd settled down to work on the shore, and had got thename of Surly Joe. Rightly enough, too. I had one of them planks withwheels that people use to get in and out of the boats; and as theboatmen on the shore was all good to me, being sorry for my loss, andso telling my story to people as went out with them, I got enough tolive on comfortable, only there was nothing comfortable about me. Iwouldn't speak a word, good or bad, to a soul for days together,unless it was to swear at anyone as tried to talk to me. I hatedeveryone, and myself wuss nor all. I was always cussing
the rocks thatdidn't kill me, and wondering how many years I'd got to go on at thiswork before my turn came. Fortunately I'd never cared for drink; butsometimes I'd find my thoughts too hard for me, and I'd go and drinkglass after glass till I tumbled under the table.

  "At first my old mates tried to get me round, and made offers to me totake a share in their boats, or to make one in a fishing voyage; but Iwould not hear them, and in time they dropped off one by one, and leftme to myself, and for six years there wasn't a surlier,wuss-conditioned, lonelier chap, not in all England, than I was. Well,sir, one day--it was just at the beginning of the season, but was toorough a day for sailing--I was a-sitting down on the steps of amachine doing nothing, just wondering and wondering why things was asthey was, when two little gals cum up. One was, maybe, five, and theother a year younger. I didn't notice as they'd just cum away from theside of a lady and gentleman. I never did notice nothing that didn'tjust concern me; but I did see that they had a nurse not far off. Thebiggest girl had great big eyes, dark and soft, and she looked up intomy face, and held out a broken wooden spade and a bit of string, andsays she, 'Sailor-man, please mend our spade.' I was struck all of aheap like; for though I had been mighty fond of little children in theold days, and was still always careful of lifting them into boats, myname and my black looks had been enough, and none of them had spokento me for years. I felt quite strange like when that child spoke outto me, a'most like what I've read Robinson Crusoe, he as was wreckedon the island, felt when he saw the mark of a foot.

  "I goes to hold out my hand, and then I draws it back, and says,gruff, 'Don't you see I aint got but one hand? Go to your nurse.'

  "I expected to see her run right off; but she didn't, but stood asquiet as may be, with her eyes looking up into my face.

  "'Nurse can't mend spade; break again when Nina digs. Nina will holdspade together, sailor-man tie it up strong.'

  "I didn't answer at once; but I saw her lip quiver, and it was plainshe had been crying just before; so I put my hand into my pocket andbrings out a bit of string, for the stuff she'd got in her hand wasof no account; and I says, in a strange sort of voice, as I hardlyknew as my own, 'All right, missy, I'll tie it.'

  "So she held the broken pieces together, and I ties 'em up with theaid of my hand and my teeth, and makes a strong, ship-shape job of it.I did it sitting on the bottom step, with a child standing on eachside watching me. When I had done it the eldest took it, and felt it.

  "'That is nice and strong,' she said; 'thank you. Annie, say thankyou.'

  "'T'ank you,' she said; and, with a little pat on my arm as a good-by,the little ones trotted away to a nurse sitting some little distanceoff.

  "It may seem a little thing to you, sir, just a half-minute's talk toa child; but it warn't a little thing to me. It seemed regularly toupset me like; and I sat there thinking it over and wondering what wascome over me, till an hour afterwards they went past me with theirnurse; and the little things ran up to me and said, 'The spade's quitegood now--good-by, sailor-man!' and went on again. So I shook it offand went to my work; for as the tide rose the wind dropped, and a fewboats went out; and thinking what a fool I was, was gruffer andsurlier than ever.

  "Next morning I was lending a mate a hand painting a boat, when I sawthe two children coming along the sand again, and I wondered tomyself whether they would know me again, or think any more of me, andthough I wanted them to do so I turned my back to the way they wascoming, and went on with my painting. Somehow I felt wonderful gladwhen I heard their little feet come, pattering along the sand, andthey sang out:

  "'Good-morning, sailor-man!'

  "'Good-morning!' says I, short-like, as if I didn't want no talk; andI goes on with my work without turning round.

  "Just then one of the men at the boats hails me.

  "'Joe, there's a party coming down.'

  "'I'm busy,' shouts I back; 'shove the plank out yourself.'

  "The children stopped quiet by me for a minute or two, watching me atwork, and then the eldest says:

  "'May we get inside the boat, Joe? we've never been inside a boat, andwe do want to so much.'

  "'My hand is all covered with paint,' says I, making a fight withmyself against giving in.

  "Then the little one said:

  "'Oo stoop down, Joe; sissy and me take hold round oor neck; then oostand up and we det in.'

  "Well, sir, the touch of their little arms and those soft little facesagainst my cheeks as they got in fairly knocked me over, and it wassome time before I could see what I was doing.

  "Once in, they never stopped talking. They asked about everything, andI had to answer them; and as I got accustomed to it the words camefreer, till I was talking away with them as if I had known 'em all mylife. Once I asked them didn't their papa and mamma ever take 'em outfor a sail, and they shook their heads and said mammy hated the sea,and said it was a cruel sea; by which I judged as she must have lostsomeone dear to her by it.

  "Well, sir, I must cut a long story short. Those children used to comeevery day down to talk with me, and I got to look for it regular; andif it was a wet day and they couldn't come I'd be regular put out byit; and I got to getting apples and cakes in my pockets for them.After a fortnight I took to carrying them across the wet sands andputting them on the stand as I wheeled it out and back with people tothe boats. I didn't do it till they'd asked their mother, and broughtback the message that she knew she could trust them with me.

  "All this time it never once struck me as strange that their nurseshould sit with a baby-brother of theirs at a distance, and let themplay with me by the hour together, without calling them away, for Iwondered so much at myself, and to find myself telling stories to 'emjust as I'd do with children who came out sailing with me in the oldtime, and in knowing as I was so wrapped up in 'em that I couldn'twonder at anything else. Natural like, I changed a good deal in otherrespects, and I got to give a good-morning to mates as I had scarcespoken with for years; and the moment the children turned down ontothe sands there'd be sure to be a shout of 'There's your littleladies, Joe.'

  "I don't know why my mates should ha' been pleased to see me cominground, for I had made myself onpleasant enough on the shore; butthey'd made 'lowances for me, and they met me as kindly as if I'd cumback from a vyage. They did it just quiet like, and would just say,natural, 'Lend us a hand here, Joe, boy,' or 'Give us a shoulder overthe bank, Joe,' and ask me what I thought o' the weather. It was ahard day for me when, after staying nigh two months, the little ladiescame to say good-by. It warn't as bad as might have been, though, forthey were going to stay with some friends near York, and were to comeback again in a fortnight before they went back to London. But theykissed me, and cried, and gave me a pipe and a lot o' 'bacca, and Iwas to think of them whenever I smoked it, and they would be sure tothink of me, for they loved me very much.

  "That very afternoon, sir, as I was standing by my stage, JimSaunders--he'd been mate with me before I owned a boat of my own--saysout loud:

  "'Lor', here's my party a-coming down, and I've jammed my hand so as Ican't hoist a sail. Who'll come out and lend me a hand?'

  "Well, everyone says they were busy, and couldn't come; but I believenow as the whole thing was a got-up plan to get me afloat again; andthen Jim turns to me as if a sudden idea had struck him.

  "'Come, Joe, lend us a hand for the sake o' old times; come along, oldchap.'

  "I was taken aback like, and could only say something about my stage;but half a dozen chaps volunteers to look after my stage, and afore Iscarce knew what I was after I was bundled aboard the boat; and as theparty got in I'm blest if I don't think as every chap on the shoreruns in to help shove her off, and a score of hands was held out justto give me a shake as we started.

  "I don't think I was much good on that vyage, for I went and sat up inthe bow, with my back to the others, and my eyes fixed far ahead.

  "I needn't tell you, sir, when I'd once broken the ice I went regularto the sea again, and handed my stage over to a p
oor fellow who hadlost his craft and a leg the winter before.

  "One day when I came in from a sail I saw two little figures upon thesands, and it needed no word from anyone to tell me my little ladieshad come back. They jumped and clapped their hands when they saw me,and would have run across the water to meet me hadn't I shouted tothem to wait just a minute till I should be with them.

  "'We've been waiting a long time, Joe. Where have you been?'

  "'I've been out sailing, missy.'

  "'Joe, don't you know it's wicked to tell stories? You told us youshould never go on sea any more.'

  "'No more I didn't think I should, missy; and I don't suppose I evershould if I hadn't met you, though you won't understand that. However,I've give up the stage, and have taken to the sea again.'

  "'I'm glad of that, Joe,' the eldest said, 'and mamma will be gladtoo.'

  "'Why should mamma be glad, little one?' I asked.

  "'Mamma will be glad,' she said positively. 'I know she will be gladwhen I tells her.'

  "We'd sat down by this time, and I began to talk to them about theirmamma. Mamma very good, very kind, very pretty, they both agreed; andthen they went on telling me about their home in London, and theircarriage and amusements. Presently they stopped, and I could see theeldest wanted to say something particular, for she puckered up herforehead as she always did when she was very serious; and then shesaid, with her hands folded before her, almost as if she was saying alesson:

  "'Mamma very happy woman. She's got two little girls and baby-brother,and papa love her so much; but there's one thing keeps her from beingquite happy.'

  "'Is there, missy?' I asked. 'She ought to be happy with all thesethings. What is it?'

  "'Mamma once had someone do a great thing for her. If it hadn't beenfor him Nina and sissy and little baby-brother could never have beenborn, and papa would never have had dear mamma to love; but it costthe man who did it a great deal--all he cared for; and now he won'tlet mamma and papa and us love him and help him; and it makes mammaunhappy when she thinks of it.'

  "Here she had evidently finished what she had heard her mamma say, forher forehead got smooth again, and she began to fill my pockets withsand.

  "'It don't sound likely, missy, that doesn't,' I says. 'It don't standto reason nohow. You can't have understood what mamma said.'

  "'Mamma said it over and over again, lots of time,' Nina said. 'Ninaquite sure she said right.'

  "We didn't say no more about it then, though after the children hadgone I wondered to myself how a chap could go on so foolish as that.Well, sir, three days after come round from Whitby this very boat, the_Grateful Mary_. She was sent care of Joe Denton; and as that was me,I had her hauled up on the beach till I should hear whose she was.Several visitors that had been out with me had said, promiscuous like,that they should like to have a boat of their own, and I supposed theyhad bought her at Whitby and sent her down, though why they shouldhave sent her to my care I couldn't quite see.

  "Two days afterwards them children come down, and says:

  "'We want you to go through the town to the other cliff with us, Joe.'

  "'I can't,' says I. 'I'm all right talking to you here, missies; but Ishouldn't be a credit to you in the town, and your pa wouldn't bebest pleased if he was to see you walking about in the streets with aboatman.'

  "'Papa said we might ask you, Joe.'

  "I shook my head, and the little ladies ran off to their nurse, whocome back with them and says:

  "'Master told me to say he should be pertickler glad if you would gowith the young ladies.'

  "'Oh, very well,' I says; 'if their pa don't object, and they wishesit, I'd go with 'em anywheres. You wait here a quarter of an hour,while I goes and cleans myself, and I'll go with you.'

  "When I comes back the youngest takes my hand, and the oldest holds bymy jacket, and we goes up into High Street, and across to the othercliff. We goes along till we comes to a pretty little cottage lookingover the sea. There was a garden in front, new planted with flowers.

  "'Are you sure you are going right?' says I, when they turned in.

  "They nodded, and ran up to the door and turned the handle.

  "'Come in, Joe,' they said; and they dragged me into a parlor, where alady and gentleman was sitting.

  "The gentleman got up.

  "'My little girls have spoken so much to me about you, Joe, that Ifeel that we know each other already.'

  "'Yes, sir, surely,' says I.

  "'Well, Joe, do you know that I owe you a great deal as to theselittle girls?'

  "'Bless you, sir, it's I as owe a great deal to the little missies;they have made a changed man of me, they have; you ask anyone on theshore.'

  "'I hope they have, Joe; for had they not got round your heart, andled you to your better self, I could never have done what I have done,for you would have rendered it useless.'

  "I didn't say nothing, sir, for I could make neither head nor tail ofwhat he was saying, and, I dessay, looked as surprised as might be.Then he takes a step forward, and he puts a hand on my shoulder, andsays he:

  "'Joe, have you never guessed who these little girls were?'

  "I looked first at the children, and then at him, and then at thelady, who had a veil down, but was wiping her eyes underneath it. Iwas downright flummuxed.

  "'I see you haven't,' the gentleman went on. 'Well, Joe, it is timeyou should know now. I owe to you all that is dear to me in thisworld, and our one unhappiness has been that you would not hear us,that you had lost everything and would not let us do anything tolighten your blow.'

  "Still, sir, I couldn't make out what he meant, and began to thinkthat I was mad, or that he was. Then the lady stood up and threw backher veil, and come up in front of me with the tears a-running downher face; and I fell back a step, and sits down suddenly in a chair,for, sure enough, it was that gal. Different to what I had seen herlast, healthy-looking and well--older, in course; a woman now, and themother of my little ladies.

  "She stood before me, sir, with her hands out before her, pleadinglike.

  "'Don't hate me any more, Joe. Let my children stand between us. Iknow what you have suffered, and, in all my happiness, the thought ofyour loneliness has been a trouble, as my husband will tell you. I sooften thought of you--a broken, lonely man. I have talked to thechildren of you till they loved the man that saved their mother'slife. I cannot give you what you have lost, Joe--no one can do that;but you may make us happy in making you comfortable. At least, if youcannot help hating me, let the love I know you bear my children weighwith you.'

  "As she spoke the children were hanging on me; and when she stoppedthe little one said:

  "'Oh, Joe, oo must be dood; oo mustn't hate mamma, and make her cry!'

  "Well, sir, I know as I need tell you more about it. You can imaginehow I quite broke down, like a great baby, and called myself everykind of name, saying only that I thought, and I a'most think so now,that I had been somehow mad from the moment the squall struck the_Kate_ till the time I first met the little girls.

  "When I thought o' that, and how I'd cut that poor gal to her drowningheart with my words, I could ha' knelt to her if she'd ha' let me. Atlast, when I was quiet, she explained that this cottage and itsfurniture and the _Grateful Mary_ was all for me; and we'd a greatfight over it, and I only gave in when at last she says that if Ididn't do as she wanted she'd never come down to Scarborough with thelittle ladies no more; but that if I 'greed they'd come down regularevery year, and that the little girls should go out sailing with meregular in the _Grateful Mary_.

  "Well, sir, there was no arguing against that, was there? So here Iam; and next week I expect Miss Mary that was, with her husband, who'sa Parliament man, as she was engaged to be married to at the time ofthe upset, and my little ladies, who is getting quite big girls too.And if you hadn't been going away I'd ha' sailed round the castletower, and I'd ha' pointed out the cottage to you. Yes, sir, I seewhat you are going to ask. I found it lonely there; and I found thewidow
of a old mate of mine who seemed to think as how she could makeme comfortable; and comfortable I am, sir--no words could say howcomfortable I am; and do you know, sir, I'm blest if there aint a Joeup there at this identical time, only he's a very little one, and hasgot both arms. So you see, sir, I have got about as little right ashas any chap in this mortial world to the name of Surly Joe."