Blundell's Improvement

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Blundell's Improvement Page 3

by W. W. Jacobs

Blundell suddenlycame to a stop and gazed curiously into the harbour.

  "Jelly-fish," said the other, briefly. "I never saw such a monster. Itmust be a yard across."

  Mr. Turnbull stopped, but could see nothing, and even when Blundellpointed it out with his finger he had no better success. He steppedforward a pace, and his suspicions returned with renewed vigour as a handwas laid caressingly on his shoulder. The next moment, with a wildshriek, he shot suddenly over the edge and disappeared. Venia and thesergeant, turning hastily, were just in time to see the fountain whichensued on his immersion.

  "With a wild shriek, he shot suddenly over the edge anddisappeared."]

  "Oh, save him!" cried Venia.

  The sergeant ran to the edge and gazed in helpless dismay as Mr. Turnbullcame to the surface and disappeared again. At the same moment Blundell,who had thrown off his coat, dived into the harbour and, rising rapidlyto the surface, caught the fast-choking Mr. Turnbull by the collar.

  "Keep still," he cried, sharply, as the farmer tried to clutch him; "keepstill or I'll let you go."

  "Help!" choked the farmer, gazing up at the little knot of people whichhad collected on the quay.

  A stout fisherman who had not run for thirty years came along the edge ofthe quay at a shambling trot, with a coil of rope over his arm. JohnBlundell saw him and, mindful of the farmer's warning about kissing offingers, etc., raised his disengaged arm and took that frenzied gentlemanbelow the surface again. By the time they came up he was very glad forhis own sake to catch the line skilfully thrown by the old fisherman andbe drawn gently to the side.

  "I'll tow you to the steps," said the fisherman; "don't let go o' theline."

  Mr. Turnbull saw to that; he wound the rope round his wrist and began toregain his presence of mind as they were drawn steadily toward the steps.Willing hands drew them out of the water and helped them up on to thequay, where Mr. Turnbull, sitting in his own puddle, coughed up saltwater and glared ferociously at the inanimate form of Mr. Blundell.Sergeant Daly and another man were rendering what they piously believedto be first aid to the apparently drowned, while the stout fisherman,with both hands to his mouth, was yelling in heart-rending accents for abarrel.

  "He--he--push--pushed me in," gasped the choking Mr. Turnbull.

  Nobody paid any attention to him; even Venia, seeing that he was safe,was on her knees by the side of the unconscious Blundell.

  "He--he's shamming," bawled the neglected Mr. Turnbull.

  "Shame!" said somebody, without even looking round.

  "He pushed me in," repeated Mr. Turnbull. "He pushed me in."

  "Oh, father," said Venia, with a scandalised glance at him, "how canyou?"

  "Shame!" said the bystanders, briefly, as they, watched anxiously forsigns of returning life on the part of Mr. Blundell. He lay still withhis eyes closed, but his hearing was still acute, and the sounds of arapidly approaching barrel trundled by a breathless Samaritan did himmore good than anything.

  "Good-bye, Venia," he said, in a faint voice; "good-bye."

  Miss Turnbull sobbed and took his hand.

  "He's shamming," roared Mr. Turnbull, incensed beyond measure at thefaithful manner in which Blundell was carrying out his instructions. "Hepushed me in."

  There was an angry murmur from the bystanders. "Be reasonable, Mr.Turnbull," said the sergeant, somewhat sharply.

  "He nearly lost 'is life over you," said the stout fisherman. "As pluckya thing as ever I see. If I 'adn't ha' been 'andy with that there lineyou'd both ha' been drownded."

  "Give--my love--to everybody," said Blundell, faintly. "Good-bye, Venia.Good-bye, Mr. Turnbull."

  "Where's that barrel?" demanded the stout fisher-man, crisply. "Goingto be all night with it? Now, two of you----"

  Mr. Blundell, with a great effort, and assisted by Venia and thesergeant, sat up. He felt that he had made a good impression, and had nodesire to spoil it by riding the barrel. With one exception, everybodywas regarding him with moist-eyed admiration. The exception's eyes were,perhaps, the moistest of them all, but admiration had no place in them.

  "You're all being made fools of," he said, getting up and stamping. "Itell you he pushed me over-board for the purpose."

  "Oh, father! how can you?" demanded Venia, angrily. "He saved yourlife."

  "He pushed me in," repeated the farmer. "Told me to look at a jelly-fishand pushed me in."

  "What for?" inquired Sergeant Daly.

  "Because--" said Mr. Turnbull. He looked at the unconscious sergeant,and the words on his lips died away in an inarticulate growl.

  "What for?" pursued the sergeant, in triumph. "Be reasonable, Mr.Turnbull. Where's the reason in pushing you overboard and then nearlylosing his life saving you? That would be a fool's trick. It was asfine a thing as ever I saw."

  "What you 'ad, Mr. Turnbull," said the stout fisherman, tapping him onthe arm, "was a little touch o' the sun."

  "What felt to you like a push," said another man, "and over you went."

  "As easy as easy," said a third.

  "You're red in the face now," said the stout fisherman, regarding himcritically, "and your eyes are starting. You take my advice and get 'omeand get to bed, and the first thing you'll do when you get your sensesback will be to go round and thank Mr. Blundell for all 'e's done foryou."

  "You take my advice and get 'ome and get to bed."]

  Mr. Turnbull looked at them, and the circle of intelligent faces grewmisty before his angry eyes. One man, ignoring his sodden condition,recommended a wet handkerchief tied round his brow.

  "I don't want any thanks, Mr. Turnbull," said Blundell, feebly, as he wasassisted to his feet. "I'd do as much for you again."

  The stout fisherman patted him admiringly on the back, and Mr. Turnbullfelt like a prophet beholding a realised vision as the spectatorsclustered round Mr. Blundell and followed their friends' example.Tenderly but firmly they led the hero in triumph up the quay toward home,shouting out eulogistic descriptions of his valour to curious neighboursas they passed. Mr. Turnbull, churlishly keeping his distance in therear of the procession, received in grim silence the congratulations ofhis friends.

  The extraordinary hallucination caused by the sun-stroke lasted with himfor over a week, but at the end of that time his mind cleared and he sawthings in the same light as reasonable folk. Venia was the first tocongratulate him upon his recovery; but his extraordinary behaviour inproposing to Miss Sippet the very day on which she herself became Mrs.Blundell convinced her that his recovery was only partial.

 


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