The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle

by Hugh Lofting

  “In prison!”

  “Yes.”

  “What for?—What’s he done?”

  Jip went over to the door and smelt at the bottom of it to see if anyone were listening outside. Then he came back to the Doctor on tiptoeand whispered,

  “_He killed a man!_”

  “Lord preserve us!” cried the Doctor, sitting down heavily in a chairand mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. “When did he do it?”

  “Fifteen years ago—in a Mexican gold-mine. That’s why he has been ahermit ever since. He shaved off his beard and kept away from peopleout there on the marshes so he wouldn’t be recognized. But last week,it seems these new-fangled policemen came to Town; and they heard therewas a strange man who kept to himself all alone in a shack on thefen. And they got suspicious. For a long time people had been huntingall over the world for the man that did that killing in the Mexicangold-mine fifteen years ago. So these policemen went out to the shack,and they recognized Luke by a mole on his arm. And they took him toprison.”

  “Well, well!” murmured the Doctor. “Who would have thought it?—Luke,the philosopher!—Killed a man!—I can hardly believe it.”

  “It’s true enough—unfortunately,” said Jip. “Luke did it. But itwasn’t his fault. Bob says so. And he was there and saw it all. He wasscarcely more than a puppy at the time. Bob says Luke couldn’t help it.He _had_ to do it.”

  “Where is Bob now?” asked the Doctor.

  “Down at the prison. I wanted him to come with me here to see you; buthe won’t leave the prison while Luke is there. He just sits outside thedoor of the prison-cell and won’t move. He doesn’t even eat the foodthey give him. Won’t you please come down there, Doctor, and see ifthere is anything you can do? The trial is to be this afternoon at twoo’clock. What time is it now?”

  “It’s ten minutes past one.”

  “Bob says he thinks they are going to kill Luke for a punishment ifthey can prove that he did it—or certainly keep him in prison for therest of his life. Won’t you please come? Perhaps if you spoke to thejudge and told him what a good man Luke really is they’d let him off.”

  “Of course I’ll come,” said the Doctor getting up and moving to go.“But I’m very much afraid that I shan’t be of any real help.” He turnedat the door and hesitated thoughtfully.

  “And yet—I wonder—”

  Then he opened the door and passed out with Jip and me close at hisheels.

  _THE FOURTH CHAPTER_

  BOB

  DAB-DAB was terribly upset when she found we were going away againwithout luncheon; and she made us take some cold pork-pies in ourpockets to eat on the way.

  When we got to Puddleby Court-house (it was next door to the prison),we found a great crowd gathered around the building.

  This was the week of the Assizes—a business which happened every threemonths, when many pick-pockets and other bad characters were tried bya very grand judge who came all the way from London. And anybody inPuddleby who had nothing special to do used to come to the Court-houseto hear the trials.

  But to-day it was different. The crowd was not made up of just a fewidle people. It was enormous. The news had run through the countrysidethat Luke the Hermit was to be tried for killing a man and that thegreat mystery which had hung over him so long was to be cleared upat last. The butcher and the baker had closed their shops and takena holiday. All the farmers from round-about, and all the townsfolk,were there with their Sunday clothes on, trying to get seats in theCourt-house or gossipping outside in low whispers. The High Street wasso crowded you could hardly move along it. I had never seen the quietold town in such a state of excitement before. For Puddleby had not hadsuch an Assizes since 1799, when Ferdinand Phipps, the Rector’s oldestson, had robbed the bank.

  If I hadn’t had the Doctor with me I am sure I would never have beenable to make my way through the mob packed around the Court-house door.But I just followed behind him, hanging on to his coat-tails; and atlast we got safely into the jail.

  “I want to see Luke,” said the Doctor to a very grand person in a bluecoat with brass buttons standing at the door.

  “Ask at the Superintendent’s office,” said the man. “Third door on theleft down the corridor.”

  “Who is that person you spoke to, Doctor?” I asked as we went along thepassage.

  “He is a policeman.”

  “And what are policemen?”

  “Policemen? They are to keep people in order. They’ve just beeninvented—by Sir Robert Peel. That’s why they are also called ‘peelers’sometimes. It is a wonderful age we live in. They’re always thinking ofsomething new—This will be the Superintendent’s office, I suppose.”

  “On the bed sat the Hermit”]

  From there another policeman was sent with us to show us the way.

  Outside the door of Luke’s cell we found Bob, the bulldog, who waggedhis tail sadly when he saw us. The man who was guiding us took a largebunch of keys from his pocket and opened the door.

  I had never been inside a real prison-cell before; and I felt quitea thrill when the policeman went out and locked the door after him,leaving us shut in the dimly-lighted, little, stone room. Before hewent, he said that as soon as we had done talking with our friend weshould knock upon the door and he would come and let us out.

  At first I could hardly see anything, it was so dim inside. But aftera little I made out a low bed against the wall, under a small barredwindow. On the bed, staring down at the floor between his feet, sat theHermit, his head resting in his hands.

  “Well, Luke,” said the Doctor in a kindly voice, “they don’t give youmuch light in here, do they?”

  Very slowly the Hermit looked up from the floor.

  “Hulloa, John Dolittle. What brings you here?”

  “I’ve come to see you. I would have been here sooner, only I didn’thear about all this till a few minutes ago. I went to your hut to askyou if you would join me on a voyage; and when I found it empty I hadno idea where you could be. I am dreadfully sorry to hear about yourbad luck. I’ve come to see if there is anything I can do.”

  Luke shook his head.

  “No, I don’t imagine there is anything can be done. They’ve caught meat last. That’s the end of it, I suppose.”

  He got up stiffly and started walking up and down the little room.

  “In a way I’m glad it’s over,” said he. “I never got any peace, alwaysthinking they were after me—afraid to speak to anyone. They were boundto get me in the end—Yes, I’m glad it’s over.”

  Then the Doctor talked to Luke for more than half an hour, trying tocheer him up; while I sat around wondering what I ought to say andwishing I could do something.

  At last the Doctor said he wanted to see Bob; and we knocked upon thedoor and were let out by the policeman.

  “Bob,” said the Doctor to the big bulldog in the passage, “come outwith me into the porch. I want to ask you something.”

  “How is he, Doctor?” asked Bob as we walked down the corridor into theCourt-house porch.

  “Oh, Luke’s all right. Very miserable of course, but he’s all right.Now tell me, Bob: you saw this business happen, didn’t you? You werethere when the man was killed, eh?”

  “I was, Doctor,” said Bob, “and I tell you—”

  “All right,” the Doctor interrupted, “that’s all I want to know for thepresent. There isn’t time to tell me more now. The trial is just goingto begin. There are the judge and the lawyers coming up the steps. Nowlisten, Bob: I want you to stay with me when I go into the court-room.And whatever I tell you to do, do it. Do you understand? Don’t makeany scenes. Don’t bite anybody, no matter what they may say aboutLuke. Just behave perfectly quietly and answer any question I may askyou—truthfully. Do you understand?”

  “Very well. But do you think you will be able to get him off, Doctor?”asked Bob. “He’s a good man, Doctor. He really is. There never was abetter.”

  “We’ll see, we’ll see, Bob. It’s
a new thing I’m going to try. I’m notsure the judge will allow it. But—well, we’ll see. It’s time to gointo the court-room now. Don’t forget what I told you. Remember: forHeaven’s sake don’t start biting any one or you’ll get us all put outand spoil everything.”

  _THE FIFTH CHAPTER_

  MENDOZA

  INSIDE the court-room everything was very solemn and wonderful. It wasa high, big room. Raised above the floor, against the wall was theJudge’s desk; and here the judge was already sitting—an old, handsomeman in a marvelous big wig of gray hair and a gown of black. Below himwas another wide, long desk at which lawyers in white wigs sat. Thewhole thing reminded me of a mixture between a church and a school.

  “Those twelve men at the side,” whispered the Doctor—“those in pewslike a choir, they are what is called the jury. It is they who decidewhether Luke is guilty—whether he did it or not.”

  “And look!” I said, “there’s Luke himself in a sort of pulpit-thingwith policemen each side of him. And there’s another pulpit, the samekind, the other side of the room, see—only that one’s empty.”

  “That one is called the witness-box,” said the Doctor. “Now I’m goingdown to speak to one of those men in white wigs; and I want you to waithere and keep these two seats for us. Bob will stay with you. Keep aneye on him—better hold on to his collar. I shan’t be more than a minuteor so.”

  With that the Doctor disappeared into the crowd which filled the mainpart of the room.

  Then I saw the judge take up a funny little wooden hammer and knock onhis desk with it. This, it seemed, was to make people keep quiet, forimmediately every one stopped buzzing and talking and began to listenvery respectfully. Then another man in a black gown stood up and beganreading from a paper in his hand.

  He mumbled away exactly as though he were saying his prayers and didn’twant any one to understand what language they were in. But I managed tocatch a few words:

  “_Biz—biz—biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Luke theHermit, of—_biz—biz—biz—biz_—for killing his partnerwith—_biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill on the nightof the—_biz—biz—biz_—in the _biz—biz—biz_—of Mexico. Therefore HerMajesty’s—_biz—biz—biz_—”

  At this moment I felt some one take hold of my arm from the back, andturning round I found the Doctor had returned with one of the men inwhite wigs.

  “Stubbins, this is Mr. Percy Jenkyns,” said the Doctor. “He is Luke’slawyer. It is his business to get Luke off—if he can.”

  Mr. Jenkyns seemed to be an extremely young man with a round smoothface like a boy. He shook hands with me and then immediately turned andwent on talking with the Doctor.

  “Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea,” he was saying. “Of_course_ the dog must be admitted as a witness; he was the only onewho saw the thing take place. I’m awfully glad you came. I wouldn’thave missed this for anything. My hat! Won’t it make the old court situp? They’re always frightfully dull, these Assizes. But this will stirthings. A bulldog witness for the defense! I do hope there are plentyof reporters present—Yes, there’s one making a sketch of the prisoner.I shall become known after this—And won’t Conkey be pleased? My hat!”

  He put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh and his eyes fairlysparkled with mischief.

  “Who is Conkey?” I asked the Doctor.

  “Sh! He is speaking of the judge up there, the Honorable EustaceBeauchamp Conckley.”

  “Now,” said Mr. Jenkyns, bringing out a note-book, “tell me a littlemore about yourself, Doctor. You took your degree as Doctor of Medicineat Durham, I think you said. And the name of your last book was?”

  I could not hear any more for they talked in whispers; and I fell tolooking round the court again.

  Of course I could not understand everything that was going on, thoughit was all very interesting. People kept getting up in the place theDoctor called the witness-box, and the lawyers at the long table askedthem questions about “the night of the 29th.” Then the people would getdown again and somebody else would get up and be questioned.

  One of the lawyers (who, the Doctor told me afterwards, was called theProsecutor) seemed to be doing his best to get the Hermit into troubleby asking questions which made it look as though he had always been avery bad man. He was a nasty lawyer, this Prosecutor, with a long nose.

  Most of the time I could hardly keep my eyes off poor Luke, who satthere between his two policemen, staring at the floor as though heweren’t interested. The only time I saw him take any notice at all waswhen a small dark man with wicked, little, watery eyes got up into thewitness-box. I heard Bob snarl under my chair as this person came intothe court-room and Luke’s eyes just blazed with anger and contempt.

  This man said his name was Mendoza and that he was the one who hadguided the Mexican police to the mine after Bluebeard Bill had beenkilled. And at every word he said I could hear Bob down below memuttering between his teeth,

  “It’s a lie! It’s a lie! I’ll chew his face. It’s a lie!”

  And both the Doctor and I had hard work keeping the dog under the seat.

  Then I noticed that our Mr. Jenkyns had disappeared from the Doctor’sside. But presently I saw him stand up at the long table to speak tothe judge.

  “Your Honor,” said he, “I wish to introduce a new witness for thedefense, Doctor John Dolittle, the naturalist. Will you please stepinto the witness-stand, Doctor?”

  There was a buzz of excitement as the Doctor made his way across thecrowded room; and I noticed the nasty lawyer with the long nose leandown and whisper something to a friend, smiling in an ugly way whichmade me want to pinch him.

  Then Mr. Jenkyns asked the Doctor a whole lot of questions abouthimself and made him answer in a loud voice so the whole court couldhear. He finished up by saying,

  “And you are prepared to swear, Doctor Dolittle, that you understandthe language of dogs and can make them understand you. Is that so?”

  “Yes,” said the Doctor, “that is so.”

  “And what, might I ask,” put in the judge in a very quiet, dignifiedvoice, “has all this to do with the killing of er—er—Bluebeard Bill?”

  “This, Your Honor,” said Mr. Jenkyns, talking in a very grand manner asthough he were on a stage in a theatre: “there is in this court-roomat the present moment a bulldog, who was the only living thing thatsaw the man killed. With the Court’s permission I propose to put thatdog in the witness-stand and have him questioned before you by theeminent scientist, Doctor John Dolittle.”

  _THE SIXTH CHAPTER_

  THE JUDGE’S DOG

  AT first there was a dead silence in the Court. Then everybody beganwhispering or giggling at the same time, till the whole room soundedlike a great hive of bees. Many people seemed to be shocked; most ofthem were amused; and a few were angry.

  Presently up sprang the nasty lawyer with the long nose.

  “I protest, Your Honor,” he cried, waving his arms wildly to the judge.“I object. The dignity of this court is in peril. I protest.”

  “I am the one to take care of the dignity of this court,” said thejudge.

  Then Mr. Jenkyns got up again. (If it hadn’t been such a seriousmatter, it was almost like a Punch-and-Judy show: somebody was alwayspopping down and somebody else popping up).

  “If there is any doubt on the score of our being able to do as we say,Your Honor will have no objection, I trust, to the Doctor’s giving theCourt a demonstration of his powers—of showing that he actually canunderstand the speech of animals?”

  I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement come into the old judge’s eyesas he sat considering a moment before he answered.

  “No,” he said at last, “I don’t think so.” Then he turned to the Doctor.

  “Are you quite sure you can do this?” he asked.

  “Quite, Your Honor,” said the Doctor—“quite sure.”

  “Very well then,” said the judge. “If you can satisfy us that youreally are able to
understand canine testimony, the dog shall beadmitted as a witness. I do not see, in that case, how I could objectto his being heard. But I warn you that if you are trying to make alaughing-stock of this Court it will go hard with you.”

  “I protest, I protest!” yelled the long-nosed Prosecutor. “This is ascandal, an outrage to the Bar!”

  “Sit down!” said the judge in a very stern voice.

  “What animal does Your Honor wish me to talk with?” asked the Doctor.

  “I would like you to talk to my own dog,” said the judge. “He isoutside in the cloak-room. I will have him brought in; and then weshall see what you can do.”

  Then someone went out and fetched the judge’s dog, a lovely greatRussian wolf-hound with slender legs and a shaggy coat. He was a proudand beautiful creature.

  “Now, Doctor,” said the judge, “did you ever see this dogbefore?—Remember you are in the witness-stand and under oath.”

  “No, Your Honor, I never saw him before.”

  “Very well then, will you please ask him to tell you what I had forsupper last night? He was with me and watched me while I ate.”

  Then the Doctor and the dog started talking to one another in signs andsounds; and they kept at it for quite a long time. And the Doctor beganto giggle and get so interested that he seemed to forget all about theCourt and the judge and everything else.

  “What a time he takes!” I heard a fat woman in front of me whispering.“He’s only pretending. Of course he can’t do it! Who ever heard oftalking to a dog? He must think we’re children.”