by W. W. Jacobs
Produced by David Widger
THE LADY OF THE BARGE
AND OTHER STORIES
By W. W. Jacobs
CAPTAIN ROGERS
A man came slowly over the old stone bridge, and averting his gaze fromthe dark river with its silent craft, looked with some satisfactiontoward the feeble lights of the small town on the other side. He walkedwith the painful, forced step of one who has already trudged far. Hisworsted hose, where they were not darned, were in holes, and his coat andknee-breeches were rusty with much wear, but he straightened himself ashe reached the end of the bridge and stepped out bravely to the tavernswhich stood in a row facing the quay.
He passed the "Queen Anne"--a mere beershop--without pausing, and after aglance apiece at the "Royal George" and the "Trusty Anchor," kept on hisway to where the "Golden Key" hung out a gilded emblem. It was the besthouse in Riverstone, and patronized by the gentry, but he adjusted hisfaded coat, and with a swaggering air entered and walked boldly into thecoffee-room.
The room was empty, but a bright fire afforded a pleasant change to thechill October air outside. He drew up a chair, and placing his feet onthe fender, exposed his tattered soles to the blaze, as a waiter who hadjust seen him enter the room came and stood aggressively inside the door.
"Brandy and water," said the stranger; "hot."
"The coffee-room is for gentlemen staying in the house," said the waiter.
The stranger took his feet from the fender, and rising slowly, walkedtoward him. He was a short man and thin, but there was something somenacing in his attitude, and something so fearsome in his stony browneyes, that the other, despite his disgust for ill-dressed people, movedback uneasily.
"Brandy and water, hot," repeated the stranger; "and plenty of it. D'yehear?"
The man turned slowly to depart.
"Stop!" said the other, imperiously. "What's the name of the landlordhere?"
"Mullet," said the fellow, sulkily.
"Send him to me," said the other, resuming his seat; "and hark you, myfriend, more civility, or 'twill be the worse for you."
He stirred the log on the fire with his foot until a shower of sparkswhirled up the chimney. The door opened, and the landlord, with thewaiter behind him, entered the room, but he still gazed placidly at theglowing embers.
"What do you want?" demanded the landlord, in a deep voice.
The stranger turned a little weazened yellow face and grinned at himfamiliarly.
"Send that fat rascal of yours away," he said, slowly.
The landlord started at his voice and eyed him closely; then he signed tothe man to withdraw, and closing the door behind him, stood silentlywatching his visitor.
"You didn't expect to see me, Rogers," said the latter.
"My name's Mullet," said the other, sternly. "What do you want?"
"Oh, Mullet?" said the other, in surprise. "I'm afraid I've made amistake, then. I thought you were my old shipmate, Captain Rogers. It'sa foolish mistake of mine, as I've no doubt Rogers was hanged years ago.You never had a brother named Rogers, did you?"
"I say again, what do you want?" demanded the other, advancing upon him.
"Since you're so good," said the other. "I want new clothes, food, andlodging of the best, and my pockets filled with money."
"You had better go and look for all those things, then," said Mullet."You won't find them here."
"Ay!" said the other, rising. "Well, well--There was a hundred guineason the head of my old shipmate Rogers some fifteen years ago. I'll seewhether it has been earned yet."
"If I gave you a hundred guineas," said the innkeeper, repressing hispassion by a mighty effort, "you would not be satisfied."
"Reads like a book," said the stranger, in tones of pretended delight."What a man it is!"
He fell back as he spoke, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, drewforth a long pistol as the innkeeper, a man of huge frame, edged towardhim.
"Keep your distance," he said, in a sharp, quick voice.
The innkeeper, in no wise disturbed at the pistol, turned away calmly,and ringing the bell, ordered some spirits. Then taking a chair, hemotioned to the other to do the same, and they sat in silence until thestaring waiter had left the room again. The stranger raised his glass.
"My old friend Captain Rogers," he said, solemnly, "and may he never gethis deserts!"
"From what jail have you come?" inquired Mullet, sternly.
"'Pon my soul," said the other, "I have been in so many--looking forCaptain Rogers--that I almost forget the last, but I have just trampedfrom London, two hundred and eighty odd miles, for the pleasure of seeingyour damned ugly figure-head again; and now I've found it, I'm going tostay. Give me some money."
The innkeeper, without a word, drew a little gold and silver from hispocket, and placing it on the table, pushed it toward him.
"Enough to go on with," said the other, pocketing it; "in future it ishalves. D'ye hear me? Halves! And I'll stay here and see I get it."
He sat back in his chair, and meeting the other's hatred with a gaze assteady as his own, replaced his pistol.
"A nice snug harbor after our many voyages," he continued. "Shipmates wewere, shipmates we'll be; while Nick Gunn is alive you shall never wantfor company. Lord! Do you remember the Dutch brig, and the fatfrightened mate?"
"I have forgotten it," said the other, still eyeing him steadfastly."I have forgotten many things. For fifteen years I have lived a decent,honest life. Pray God for your own sinful soul, that the devil in medoes not wake again."
"Fifteen years is a long nap," said Gunn, carelessly; "what a godsend it'll be for you to have me by you to remind you of old times! Why, you'relooking smug, man; the honest innkeeper to the life! Gad! who's thegirl?"
GUNN PLACED A HAND, WHICH LACKED TWO FINGERS ON HIS BREASTAND BOWED AGAIN.]
He rose and made a clumsy bow as a girl of eighteen, after a moment'shesitation at the door, crossed over to the innkeeper.
"I'm busy, my dear," said the latter, somewhat sternly.
"Our business," said Gunn, with another bow, "is finished. Is this yourdaughter, Rog-- Mullet?"
"My stepdaughter," was the reply.
Gunn placed a hand, which lacked two fingers, on his breast, and bowedagain.
"One of your father's oldest friends," he said smoothly; "and fallen onevil days; I'm sure your gentle heart will be pleased to hear that yourgood father has requested me--for a time--to make his house my home."
"Any friend of my father's is welcome to me, sir," said the girl, coldly.She looked from the innkeeper to his odd-looking guest, and conscious ofsomething strained in the air, gave him a little bow and quitted theroom.
"You insist upon staying, then?" said Mullet, after a pause.
"More than ever," replied Gunn, with a leer toward the door. "Why, youdon't think I'm _afraid,_ Captain? You should know me better than that."
"Life is sweet," said the other.
"Ay," assented Gunn, "so sweet that you will share things with me to keepit."
"No," said the other, with great calm. "I am man enough to have a betterreason."
"No psalm singing," said Gunn, coarsely. "And look cheerful, you oldbuccaneer. Look as a man should look who has just met an old friendnever to lose him again."
He eyed his man expectantly and put his hand to his pocket again, but theinnkeeper's face was troubled, and he gazed stolidly at the fire.
"See what fifteen years' honest, decent life does for us," grinned theintruder.
The other made no reply, but rising slowly, walked to the door without aword.
"Landlord," cried Gunn, bringing his maimed hand sharply down on thetable.
The innkeeper turned and regarded him.
The door closed silently, and was opened a little later by the dubiousGeorge coming in to set a bountiful repast. Gunn, after cursing him forhis slowness and awkwardness, drew his chair to the table and made themeal of one seldom able to satisfy his hunger. He finished at last, andafter sitting for some time smoking, with his legs sprawled on thefender, rang for a candle and demanded to be shown to his room.
His