Her eyes fell on Dick opposite her and she was both shocked and displeased. There were droppings of food all down the front of his coat; the mouth under the ragged ill-grown beard drooped sullenly; the forehead was lined and contracted; and on the lean temples the hair was a dusty indeterminate colour that might or might not have been called gray. The utter misery and self-abandonment of the man appealed to her, and at the bottom of her heart lay the wicked feeling that he was humbled and brought low who had once humbled her.
‘Oh! it is good to hear you moving about,’ said Dick, rubbing his hands.
‘Tell us all about your bar successes, Bessie, and the way you live now.’
‘Never mind that. I’m quite respectable, as you’d see by looking at me.
You don’t seem to live too well. What made you go blind that sudden? Why isn’t there any one to look after you?’
Dick was too thankful for the sound of her voice to resent the tone of it.
‘I was cut across the head a long time ago, and that ruined my eyes. I don’t suppose anybody thinks it worth while to look after me any more.
Why should they? — and Mr. Beeton really does everything I want.’
‘Don’t you know any gentlemen and ladies, then, while you was — well?’
‘A few, but I don’t care to have them looking at me.’
‘I suppose that’s why you’ve growed a beard. Take it off, it don’t become you.’
‘Good gracious, child, do you imagine that I think of what becomes of me these days?’
‘You ought. Get that taken off before I come here again. I suppose I can come, can’t I?’
‘I’d be only too grateful if you did. I don’t think I treated you very well in the old days. I used to make you angry.’
‘Very angry, you did.’
‘I’m sorry for it, then. Come and see me when you can and as often as you can. God knows, there isn’t a soul in the world to take that trouble except you and Mr. Beeton.’
‘A lot of trouble he’s taking and she too.’ This with a toss of the head.
‘They’ve let you do anyhow and they haven’t done anything for you. I’ve only to look and see that much. I’ll come, and I’ll be glad to come, but you must go and be shaved, and you must get some other clothes — those ones aren’t fit to be seen.’
‘I have heaps somewhere,’ he said helplessly.
‘I know you have. Tell Mr. Beeton to give you a new suit and I’ll brush it and keep it clean. You may be as blind as a barn-door, Mr. Heldar, but it doesn’t excuse you looking like a sweep.’
‘Do I look like a sweep, then?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry for you. I’m that sorry for you!’ she cried impulsively, and took Dick’s hands. Mechanically, he lowered his head as if to kiss — she was the only woman who had taken pity on him, and he was not too proud for a little pity now. She stood up to go.
‘Nothing o’ that kind till you look more like a gentleman. It’s quite easy when you get shaved, and some clothes.’
He could hear her drawing on her gloves and rose to say good-bye. She passed behind him, kissed him audaciously on the back of the neck, and ran away as swiftly as on the day when she had destroyed the Melancolia.
‘To think of me kissing Mr. Heldar,’ she said to herself, ‘after all he’s done to me and all! Well, I’m sorry for him, and if he was shaved he wouldn’t be so bad to look at, but... Oh them Beetons, how shameful they’ve treated him! I know Beeton’s wearing his shirt on his back to-day just as well as if I’d aired it. To-morrow, I’ll see... I wonder if he has much of his own. It might be worth more than the bar — I wouldn’t have to do any work — and just as respectable as if no one knew.’
Dick was not grateful to Bessie for her parting gift. He was acutely conscious of it in the nape of his neck throughout the night, but it seemed, among very many other things, to enforce the wisdom of getting shaved.
He was shaved accordingly in the morning, and felt the better for it. A fresh suit of clothes, white linen, and the knowledge that some one in the world said that she took an interest in his personal appearance made him carry himself almost upright; for the brain was relieved for a while from thinking of Maisie, who, under other circumstances, might have given that kiss and a million others.
‘Let us consider,’ said he, after lunch. ‘The girl can’t care, and it’s a toss-up whether she comes again or not, but if money can buy her to look after me she shall be bought. Nobody else in the world would take the trouble, and I can make it worth her while. She’s a child of the gutter holding brevet rank as a barmaid; so she shall have everything she wants if she’ll only come and talk and look after me.’ He rubbed his newly shorn chin and began to perplex himself with the thought of her not coming. ‘I suppose I did look rather a sweep,’ he went on. ‘I had no reason to look otherwise. I knew things dropped on my clothes, but it didn’t matter. It would be cruel if she didn’t come. She must. Maisie came once, and that was enough for her. She was quite right. She had something to work for. This creature has only beer-handles to pull, unless she has deluded some young man into keeping company with her.
Fancy being cheated for the sake of a counter-jumper! We’re falling pretty low.’
Something cried aloud within him: — This will hurt more than anything that has gone before. It will recall and remind and suggest and tantalise, and in the end drive you mad.
‘I know it, I know it!’ Dick cried, clenching his hands despairingly; ‘but, good heavens! is a poor blind beggar never to get anything out of his life except three meals a day and a greasy waistcoat? I wish she’d come.’
Early in the afternoon time she came, because there was no young man in her life just then, and she thought of material advantages which would allow her to be idle for the rest of her days.
‘I shouldn’t have known you,’ she said approvingly. ‘You look as you used to look — a gentleman that was proud of himself.’
‘Don’t you think I deserve another kiss, then?’ said Dick, flushing a little.
‘Maybe — but you won’t get it yet. Sit down and let’s see what I can do for you. I’m certain sure Mr. Beeton cheats you, now that you can’t go through the housekeeping books every month. Isn’t that true?’
‘You’d better come and housekeep for me then, Bessie.’
‘Couldn’t do it in these chambers — you know that as well as I do.’
‘I know, but we might go somewhere else, if you thought it worth your while.’
‘I’d try to look after you, anyhow; but I shouldn’t care to have to work for both of us.’ This was tentative.
Dick laughed.
‘Do you remember where I used to keep my bank-book?’ said he. ‘Torp took it to be balanced just before he went away. Look and see.’
‘It was generally under the tobacco-jar. Ah!’
‘Well?’
‘Oh! Four thousand two hundred and ten pounds nine shillings and a penny! Oh my!’
‘You can have the penny. That’s not bad for one year’s work. Is that and a hundred and twenty pounds a year good enough?’
The idleness and the pretty clothes were almost within her reach now, but she must, by being housewifely, show that she deserved them.
‘Yes; but you’d have to move, and if we took an inventory, I think we’d find that Mr. Beeton has been prigging little things out of the rooms here and there. They don’t look as full as they used.’
‘Never mind, we’ll let him have them. The only thing I’m particularly anxious to take away is that picture I used you for — when you used to swear at me. We’ll pull out of this place, Bess, and get away as far as ever we can.’
‘Oh yes,’ she said uneasily.
‘I don’t know where I can go to get away from myself, but I’ll try, and you shall have all the pretty frocks that you care for. You’ll like that.
Give me that kiss now, Bess. Ye gods! it’s good to put one’s arm round a woman’s waist again.’
Then came the
fulfilment of the prophecy within the brain. If his arm were thus round Maisie’s waist and a kiss had just been given and taken between them, — why then... He pressed the girl more closely to himself because the pain whipped him. She was wondering how to explain a little accident to the Melancolia. At any rate, if this man really desired the solace of her company — and certainly he would relapse into his original slough if she withdrew it — he would not be more than just a little vexed.
It would be delightful at least to see what would happen, and by her teachings it was good for a man to stand in certain awe of his companion.
She laughed nervously, and slipped out of his reach.
‘I shouldn’t worrit about that picture if I was you,’ she began, in the hope of turning his attention.
‘It’s at the back of all my canvases somewhere. Find it, Bess; you know it as well as I do.’
‘I know — but — ’
‘But what? You’ve wit enough to manage the sale of it to a dealer.
Women haggle much better than men. It might be a matter of eight or nine hundred pounds to — to us. I simply didn’t like to think about it for a long time. It was mixed up with my life so. — But we’ll cover up our tracks and get rid of everything, eh? Make a fresh start from the beginning, Bess.’
Then she began to repent very much indeed, because she knew the value of money. Still, it was probable that the blind man was overestimating the value of his work. Gentlemen, she knew, were absurdly particular about their things. She giggled as a nervous housemaid giggles when she tries to explain the breakage of a pipe.
‘I’m very sorry, but you remember I was — I was angry with you before Mr. Torpenhow went away?’
‘You were very angry, child; and on my word I think you had some right to be.’
‘Then I — but aren’t you sure Mr. Torpenhow didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what? Good gracious, what are you making such a fuss about when you might just as well be giving me another kiss?’
He was beginning to learn, not for the first time in his experience, that kissing is a cumulative poison. The more you get of it, the more you want.
Bessie gave the kiss promptly, whispering, as she did so, ‘I was so angry I rubbed out that picture with the turpentine. You aren’t angry, are you?’
‘What? Say that again.’ The man’s hand had closed on her wrist.
‘I rubbed it out with turps and the knife,’ faltered Bessie. ‘I thought you’d only have to do it over again. You did do it over again, didn’t you? Oh, let go of my wrist; you’re hurting me.’
‘Isn’t there anything left of the thing?’
‘N’nothing that looks like anything. I’m sorry — I didn’t know you’d take on about it; I only meant to do it in fun. You aren’t going to hit me?’
‘Hit you! No! Let’s think.’
He did not relax his hold upon her wrist but stood staring at the carpet.
Then he shook his head as a young steer shakes it when the lash of the stock-whip cross his nose warns him back to the path on to the shambles that he would escape. For weeks he had forced himself not to think of the Melancolia, because she was a part of his dead life. With Bessie’s return and certain new prospects that had developed themselves, the Melancolia — lovelier in his imagination than she had ever been on canvas — reappeared. By her aid he might have procured mor money wherewith to amuse Bess and to forget Maisie, as well as another taste of an almost forgotten success. Now, thanks to a vicious little housemaid’s folly, there was nothing to look for — not even the hope that he might some day take an abiding interest in the housemaid. Worst of all, he had been made to appear ridiculous in Maisie’s eyes. A woman will forgive the man who has ruined her life’s work so long as he gives her love; a man may forgive those who ruin the love of his life, but he will never forgive the destruction of his work.
‘Tck — tck — tck,’ said Dick between his teeth, and then laughed softly. ‘It’s an omen, Bessie, and — a good many things considered, it serves me right for doing what I have done. By Jove! that accounts for Maisie’s running away. She must have thought me perfectly mad — small blame to her! The whole picture ruined, isn’t it so? What made you do it?’
‘Because I was that angry. I’m not angry now — I’m awful sorry.’
‘I wonder. — It doesn’t matter, anyhow. I’m to blame for making the mistake.’
‘What mistake?’
‘Something you wouldn’t understand, dear. Great heavens! to think that a little piece of dirt like you could throw me out of stride!’ Dick was talking to himself as Bessie tried to shake off his grip on her wrist.
‘I ain’t a piece of dirt, and you shouldn’t call me so! I did it ‘cause I hated you, and I’m only sorry now ‘cause you’re — ’cause you’re — — ’
‘Exactly — because I’m blind. There’s noting like tact in little things.’
Bessie began to sob. She did not like being shackled against her will; she was afraid of the blind face and the look upon it, and was sorry too that her great revenge had only made Dick laugh.
‘Don’t cry,’ he said, and took her into his arms. ‘You only did what you thought right.’
‘I — I ain’t a little piece of dirt, and if you say that I’ll never come to you again.’
‘You don’t know what you’ve done to me. I’m not angry — indeed, I’m not.
Be quiet for a minute.’
Bessie remained in his arms shrinking. Dick’s first thought was connected with Maisie, and it hurt him as white-hot iron hurts an open sore.
Not for nothing is a man permitted to ally himself to the wrong woman.
The first pang — the first sense of things lost is but the prelude to the play, for the very just Providence who delights in causing pain has decreed that the agony shall return, and that in the midst of keenest pleasure.
They know this pain equally who have forsaken or been forsaken by the love of their life, and in their new wives’ arms are compelled to realise it.
It is better to remain alone and suffer only the misery of being alone, so long as it is possible to find distraction in daily work. When that resource goes the man is to be pitied and left alone.
These things and some others Dick considered while he was holding Bessie to his heart.
‘Though you mayn’t know it,’ he said, raising his head, ‘the Lord is a just and a terrible God, Bess; with a very strong sense of humour. It serves me right — how it serves me right! Torp could understand it if he were here; he must have suffered something at your hands, child, but only for a minute or so. I saved him. Set that to my credit, some one.’
‘Let me go,’ said Bess, her face darkening. ‘Let me go.’
‘All in good time. Did you ever attend Sunday school?’
‘Never. Let me go, I tell you; you’re making fun of me.’
‘Indeed, I’m not. I’m making fun of myself.... Thus. “He saved others, himself he cannot save.” It isn’t exactly a school-board text.’ He released her wrist, but since he was between her and the door, she could not escape. ‘What an enormous amount of mischief one little woman can do!’
‘I’m sorry; I’m awful sorry about the picture.’
‘I’m not. I’m grateful to you for spoiling it.... What were we talking about before you mentioned the thing?’
‘About getting away — and money. Me and you going away.’
‘Of course. We will get away — that is to say, I will.’
‘And me?’
‘You shall have fifty whole pounds for spoiling a picture.’
‘Then you won’t — — ?’
‘I’m afraid not, dear. Think of fifty pounds for pretty things all to yourself.’
‘You said you couldn’t do anything without me.’
‘That was true a little while ago. I’m better now, thank you. Get me my hat.’
‘S’pose I don’t?’
‘Beeton will, and you’ll lose fifty pounds. That’s a
ll. Get it.’
Bessie cursed under her breath. She had pitied the man sincerely, had kissed him with almost equal sincerity, for he was not unhandsome; it pleased her to be in a way and for a time his protector, and above all there were four thousand pounds to be handled by some one. Now through a slip of the tongue and a little feminine desire to give a little, not too much, pain she had lost the money, the blessed idleness and the pretty things, the companionship, and the chance of looking outwardly as respectable as a real lady.
‘Now fill me a pipe. Tobacco doesn’t taste, but it doesn’t matter, and I’ll think things out. What’s the day of the week, Bess?’
‘Tuesday.’
‘Then Thursday’s mail-day. What a fool — what a blind fool I have been!
Twenty-two pounds covers my passage home again. Allow ten for additional expenses. We must put up at Madam Binat’s for old time’s sake. Thirty-two pounds altogether. Add a hundred for the cost of the last trip — Gad, won’t Torp stare to see me! — a hundred and thirty-two leaves seventy-eight for baksheesh — I shall need it — and to play with.
What are you crying for, Bess? It wasn’t your fault, child; it was mine altogether. Oh, you funny little opossum, mop your eyes and take me out!
I want the pass-book and the check-book. Stop a minute. Four thousand pounds at four per cent — that’s safe interest — means a hundred and sixty pounds a year; one hundred and twenty pounds a hear — also safe — is two eighty, and two hundred and eighty pounds added to three hundred a year means gilded luxury for a single woman. Bess, we’ll go to the bank.’
Richer by two hundred and ten pounds stored in his money-belt, Dick caused Bessie, now thoroughly bewildered, to hurry from the bank to the P. and O. offices, where he explained things tersely.
‘Port Said, single first; cabin as close to the baggage-hatch as possible.
What ship’s going?’
‘The Colgong,’ said the clerk.
‘She’s a wet little hooker. Is it Tilbury and a tender, or Galleons and the docks?’
‘Galleons. Twelve-forty, Thursday.’
Complete Works of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated) Page 20