The Garret and the Garden | Page 9

that he
was her father, though earnestly assured of the fact by chimney-pot Liz;
the surprise of David Laidlaw, and even of the policeman, at being
suddenly called to witness so interesting a domestic scene, and the
gleeful ecstasy of Tommy Splint over the whole affair--flavoured as it
was with the smell and memory of recent "sassengers."
When the constable at last bid them good-night and descended the stair,
the young Scot turned to go, feeling, with intuitive delicacy, that he
was in the way, but once again he met the soft blue eyes of Susy, and
hesitated.
"Hallo, young man!" cried Sam Blake, on observing his intention, "you
ain't agoin' to leave us--arter saving my gal's life, p'raps--anywise her
property. No, no; you'll stop here all night an'--"
He paused: "Well, I do declare I forgot I wasn't aboard my own ship,

but--" again he paused and looked at old Liz.
"I've no room for any of you in the garret," said that uncompromising
woman, "there ain't more than one compartment in it, and that's not too
big for me an' Susy; but you're welcome, both of you, to sleep in the
garden if you choose. Tommy sleeps there, under a big box, and a
clever sea-farin' man like you could--"
"All right, old lady," cried the seaman heartily. "I'll stop, an' thankee;
we'll soon rig up a couple o' bunks. So you will stop too, young
man--by the way, you--you didn't give us your name yet."
"My name is David Laidlaw; but I won't stop, thankee," replied the
Scot with unexpected decision of manner. "Ye see, I've been lookin' a'
this day for an auld freen' an' I must find him afore the morn's mornin',
if I should seek him a' nicht. But, but--maybe I'll come an' speer for 'ee
in a day or twa--if I may."
"If you mean that you will come and call, Mr Laidlaw," said old Liz,
"we will be delighted to see you at any time. Don't forget the address."
"Nae fear--I'll putt it i' my note-buik," said David, drawing a substantial
volume from his breast pocket and entering the address--`Mrs Morley,
Cherub Court'--therein.
Having shaken hands all round he descended the stair with a firm tread
and compressed lips until he came out on the main thoroughfare, when
he muttered to himself sternly:
"Waux dolls, indeed! there's nane o' thae dolls'll git the better o' me.
H'm! a bonny wee face, nae doot but what div I care for bonny faces if
the hairt's no' richt?"
"But suppose that the heart is right?"
Who could have whispered that question? David Laidlaw could not
stop to inquire, but began to hum--

"Oh, this is no my ain lassie, Kind though the lassie be,--"
In a subdued tone, as he sauntered along the crowded street, which by
that time was blazing with gas-light in the shop-windows and oil-lamps
on the hucksters' barrows.
The song, however, died on his lips, and he moved slowly along,
stopping now and then to observe the busy and to him novel scene, till
he reached a comparatively quiet turning, which was dimly lighted by
only one lamp. Here he felt a slight twitch at the bag which contained
his little all. Like lightning he turned and seized by the wrist a man who
had already opened the bag and laid hold of some of its contents.
Grasping the poor wretch by the neck with his other hand he held him
in a grip of iron.
CHAPTER FOUR.
DANGERS THREATEN.
The man who had been thus captured by David was one of those
wretched forlorn creatures who seem to reach a lower depth of
wretchedness and degradation in London than in any other city in the
world. Although young and strongly made he was pale, gaunt and
haggard, with a look about the eyes and mouth which denoted the
habitual drunkard. The meanness of his attire is indescribable.
He trembled--whether from the effects of dissipation or fear we cannot
say--as his captor led him under the lamp, with a grip on the collar that
almost choked him, but when the light fell full on his haggard face a
feeling of intense pity induced the Scot to relax his hold.
"Oh, ye puir meeserable crater!" he said, but stopped abruptly, for the
man made a sudden and desperate effort to escape. He might as well
have struggled in the grasp of a gorilla!
"Na, na, my man, ye'll no twust yersel' oot o' my grup sae easy! keep
quiet noo, an' I'll no hurt 'ee. What gars ye gang aboot tryin' to steal like
that?"

"Steal!" explained the man fiercely, "what else can I do? I must live!
I've just come out of prison, and am flung on the world to be kicked
about