by W. W. Jacobs
'is wife's arm, as they helped 'im up and got 'im in thechair. "Two of 'im!"
"Two of wot?" ses his wife.
"Two--two watchmen," ses the landlord; "both exac'ly alike and bothasking for 'arf a pint o' four ale."
"Yes, yes," ses 'is wife.
"You come and lay down, pa," ses the gals. "I tell you there was," sesthe landlord, getting 'is colour back, with temper.
"Yes, yes; I know all about it," ses 'is wife. "You come inside for abit; and, Gertie, you bring your father in a soda--a large soda."
They got 'im in arter a lot o' trouble; but three times 'e came back asfar as the door, 'olding on to them, and taking a little peep at me.The last time he shook his 'ead at me, and said if I did it agin I couldgo and get my 'arf-pints somewhere else.
I finished the beer wot the actor 'ad left, and, arter telling thelandlord I 'oped his eyesight 'ud be better in the morning, I wentoutside, and arter a careful look round walked back to the wharf.
I pushed the wicket open a little way and peeped in. The actor wasstanding just by the fust crane talking to two of the hands off of theSaltram. He'd got 'is back to the light, but 'ow it was they didn'ttwig his voice I can't think.
They was so busy talking that I crept along by the side of the wall andgot to the office without their seeing me. I went into the privateoffice and turned out the gas there, and sat down to wait for 'im. ThenI 'eard a noise outside that took me to the door agin and kept me there,'olding on to the door-post and gasping for my breath. The cook of theSaltram was sitting on a paraffin-cask playing the mouth-orgin, and theactor, with 'is arms folded across his stummick, was dancing a horn-pipeas if he'd gorn mad.
I never saw anything so ridikerlous in my life, and when I recollectedthat they thought it was me, I thought I should ha' dropped.
A night-watchman can't be too careful, and I knew that it 'ud be allover Wapping next morning that I 'ad been dancing to a tuppenny-ha'pennymouth-orgin played by a ship's cook. A man that does 'is dooty alwayshas a lot of people ready to believe the worst of 'im.
I went back into the dark office and waited, and by and by I 'eard themcoming along to the gate and patting 'im on the back and saying he oughtto be in a pantermime instead o' wasting 'is time night-watching. Heleft 'em at the gate, and then 'e came into the office smiling as ifhe'd done something clever.
"Wot d'ye think of me for a understudy?" he ses, laughing. "They allthought it was you. There wasn't one of 'em 'ad the slightest suspicion--not one."
"And wot about my character?" I ses, folding my arms acrost my chestand looking at him.
"Character?" he ses, staring. "Why, there's no 'arm in dancing; it's ainnercent enjoyment."
"It ain't one o' my innercent enjoyments," I ses, "and I don't want toget the credit of it. If they hadn't been sitting in a pub all theevening they'd 'ave spotted you at once."
"Oh!" he ses, very huffy. "How?"
"Your voice," I ses. "You try and mimic a poll-parrot, and think it'slike me. And, for another thing, you walk about as though you'restuffed with sawdust."
"I beg your pardon," he ses; "the voice and the walk are exact. Exact."
"Wot?" I ses, looking 'im up and down. "You stand there and 'ave theimpudence to tell me that my voice is like that?"
"I do," he ses.
"Then I'm sorry for you," I ses. "I thought you'd got more sense."
He stood looking at me and gnawing 'is finger, and by and by he ses,"Are you married?" he ses.
"I am," I ses, very short.
"Where do you live?" he ses.
I told 'im.
"Very good," he ses; "p'r'aps I'll be able to convince you arter all.By the way, wot do you call your wife? Missis?"
"Yes," I ses, staring at him. "But wot's it got to do with you?"
"Nothing," he ses. "Nothing. Only I'm going to try the poll-parrotvoice and the sawdust walk on her, that's all. If I can deceive 'erthat'll settle it."
"Deceive her?" I ses. "Do you think I'm going to let you go round tomy 'ouse and get me into trouble with the missis like that? Why, youmust be crazy; that dancing must 'ave got into your 'ead."
"Where's the 'arm?" he ses, very sulky.
"'Arm?" I ses. "I won't 'ave it, that's all; and if you knew my missisyou'd know without any telling."
"I'll bet you a pound to a sixpence she wouldn't know me," he ses, veryearnest.
"She won't 'ave the chance," I ses, "so that's all about it."
He stood there argufying for about ten minutes; but I was as firm as arock. I wouldn't move an inch, and at last, arter we was both on thepoint of losing our tempers, he picked up his bag and said as 'ow hemust be getting off 'ome.
"But ain't you going to take those things off fust?" I ses.
"No," he ses, smiling. "I'll wait till I get 'ome. Ta-ta."
He put 'is bag on 'is shoulder and walked to the gate, with me folleringof 'im.
"I expect I shall see a cab soon," he ses. "Good-bye."
"Wot are you laughing at?" I ses.
"On'y thoughts," he ses.
"'Ave you got far to go?' I ses.
"No; just about the same distance as you 'ave," he ses, and he went offspluttering like a soda-water bottle.
I took the broom and 'ad a good sweep-up arter he 'ad gorn, and I wasjust in the middle of it when the cook and the other two chaps from theSaltram came back, with three other sailormen and a brewer's draymanthey 'ad brought to see me DANCE!
"Same as you did a little while ago, Bill," ses the cook, taking out 'isbeastly mouth-orgin and wiping it on 'is sleeve. "Wot toon would youlike?"
I couldn't get away from 'em, and when I told them I 'ad never danced inmy life the cook asked me where I expected to go to. He told thedrayman that I'd been dancing like a fairy in sea-boots, and they allgot in front of me and wouldn't let me pass. I lost my temper at last,and, arter they 'ad taken the broom away from me and the drayman and oneo' the sailormen 'ad said wot they'd do to me if I was on'y fifty yearsyounger, they sheered off.
I locked the gate arter 'em and went back to the office, and I 'adn'tbeen there above 'arf an hour when somebody started ringing the gate-bell as if they was mad. I thought it was the cook's lot come back atfust, so I opened the wicket just a trifle and peeped out. There was a'ansom-cab standing outside, and I 'ad hardly got my nose to the crackwhen the actor-chap, still in my clothes, pushed the door open andnipped in.
"You've lost," he ses, pushing the door to and smiling all over."Where's your sixpence?"
"Lost?" I ses, hardly able to speak. "D'ye mean to tell me you've beento my wife arter all--arter all I said to you?"
"I do," he ses, nodding, and smiling agin. "They were both deceived aseasy as easy."
"Both?" I ses, staring at 'im. "Both wot? 'Ow many wives d'ye thinkI've got? Wot d'ye mean by it?"
"Arter I left you," he ses, giving me a little poke in the ribs, "Ipicked up a cab and, fust leaving my bag at Aldgate, I drove on to your'ouse and knocked at the door. I knocked twice, and then an angry-looking woman opened it and asked me wot I wanted.
"'It's all right, missis,' I ses. 'I've got 'arf an hour off, and I'vecome to take you out for a walk.'
"'Wot?' she ses, drawing back with a start.
"'Just a little turn round to see the shops,' I ses; 'and if there'sanything particler you'd like and it don't cost too much, you shall 'aveit.'
"I thought at fust, from the way she took it, she wasn't used to yougiving 'er things.
"'Ow dare you!' she ses. 'I'll 'ave you locked up. 'Ow dare you insulta respectable married woman! You wait till my 'usband comes 'ome.'
"'But I am your 'usband,' I ses. 'Don't you know me, my pretty? Don'tyou know your pet sailor-boy?'
"She gave a screech like a steam-injin, and then she went next door andbegan knocking away