Toilers of Babylon: A Novel. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

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СКАЧАТЬ very fine baby," said Mr. Loveday, "though I don't pretend to be a judge-and fast asleep."

      "Proving," added the pawnbroker, "that it's been well stuffed."

      "Stuffed!"

      "Had plenty to drink-got its belly full. That's the artfulness of it."

      "The baby's artfulness?" inquired Mr. Loveday, much mystified.

      "No-of the trick that's been played upon me. Put comfortably to sleep, satisfied, so that it shouldn't excite suspicion by as much as a whimper."

      "But explain," said Mr. Loveday, as much in the dark as ever. "Is it your baby?"

      "No, sir," replied the pawnbroker, energetically, "it is not."

      "Then how comes it here?"

      "That's what I'd like to know. If you'll believe me, Mr. Loveday, I'll tell you all about it-no, not all, as much I as know myself."

      "Of course I'll believe you," said Mr. Loveday, his interest growing fast.

      "Here am I," commenced the pawnbroker, excitedly, "all alone by myself in the shop-well, not exactly here where we stand, but in my room at the back there. Business over an hour ago-close at eleven, you know. Shutters put up, and my assistant gone home. Front door left ajar, because it's a hot night, and the gas has been flaring away. My wife and the children all asleep up-stairs; no one to disturb me. There's a bit of supper on the table. Mr. Loveday," he said, breaking off abruptly, "my wife is a most peculiar woman-a most pe-cu-li-ar woman."

      "Go on with your story," said Mr. Loveday, calmly.

      "Usually she stops up with me, and we have a bit of supper together, especially on Saturday nights, the busiest time of the week for me. But, as luck will have it, she doesn't feel quite the thing to-night, and she goes to bed early. There I am, then, eating my supper and making up my accounts. Everything very quiet, nothing wrong, as far as I can see. I'll take my oath, Mr. Loveday, that when my assistant wishes me good-night all the parcels are cleared away, and there's nothing left on the counters, not as much as a pin. Well, sir, I come to the end of my supper and my accounts, and feel easy in my mind. Three ha'pence wrong in the reckoning up, but it's on the right side. I put my money and books in the safe, lock it, pocket the key, fill my pipe, and get up to come to the door to have a whiff of tobacco and fresh air. I've got to pass through the shop to get to the street door, and as I come up to this counter here, this bundle stares me in the face. 'Hallo?' says I-to myself, you know-'Hallo! here's something been overlooked;' and I takes hold of the bundle, and starts back as if I was shot. I feel something moving inside. I come up to it again, and open it, and there's this baby staring me in the face-no, not staring me in the face, because it's fast asleep; but there's this baby. How would you have felt?"

      "Very much astonished."

      "I was flabbergasted. How did it come here? Who brought it? What's the meaning of it? While I was sitting in the back room I didn't hear a sound, but it must have been then that the street door was pushed softly open, and this-this thing put on my counter. If I caught the woman who did it I'd make it warm for her."

      "Perhaps," suggested Mr. Loveday, "it is done for a joke."

      "A joke!" cried the pawnbroker. "A nice joke to play a married man-and at this time of the night!"

      "At all events you have lent nothing on it."

      "Find me the pawnbroker," retorted the distressed man, "who would lend money on a baby!"

      "Truly," observed Mr. Loveday, with grim suggestiveness, "flesh and blood is not at a premium in this neighborhood."

      "But, Mr. Loveday," implored the pawnbroker, "what am I to do with it?"

      "I can hardly advise you. You can't very well put it among your other pledges, and you can't very well throw it into the streets."

      In his heart of hearts the pawnbroker, although not in the main an ill-natured man, was for the moment mad with himself for having taken Mr. Loveday into his confidence. If he had kept the matter to himself, he might, failing all other ways of getting rid of the encumbrance, have deposited it on a doorstep in such a manner and at such a time that it could not fail to come under the notice of a policeman, who, in the exercise of his duty, could not have allowed it to remain there. It was a warm night, the child was strong and healthy, and was sleeping comfortably; it could scarcely have taken cold. But this proceeding was not open to him now that Mr. Loveday was in possession of the particulars.

      "They wouldn't take it in at the workhouse," said Mr. Loveday.

      "Why not? They've a better right to it than I have."

      "It would have to be proved that it belonged to the parish. It is such a queer story, you see."

      "Do you mean to say it wouldn't be believed?"

      "I can't hazard an opinion. Suppose you call your wife down, and ask her to take care of it till you find out something about it."

      "What!" cried the unhappy pawnbroker, "I should have the house pulled over my ears."

      Mr. Loveday shrugged his shoulders. Not that he was indifferent; the adventure was so novel that it interested him; but he could not exactly tell what could be done.

      "After all," he said, "it may be as I suggested, a joke. The person who left it here will probably call for it presently. Wait awhile."

      "I must, I suppose, but I shall go crazy if I'm left alone with it. Do a charity, and smoke a pipe with me."

      "I don't smoke, but I'll keep you company for half an hour. Before that time the mystery may be solved."

      But though they waited up till two o'clock there were no further developments. There they sat, for the most part in silence, and there lay the baby in his shawl, sleeping soundly and placidly.

      At length Mr. Loveday rose and said he must go. The pawnbroker began to implore again.

      "You're a single man; you've got no one to take care of but yourself; I've got six children of my own to look after. Take it home with you and give it a bed."

      "No, no," said Mr. Loveday, laughing, "I couldn't think of such a thing. If I were a woman-perhaps; or if I had a female housekeeper in my house. The child needs a woman's care, and your wife is at hand."

      The pawnbroker groaned. He heard a policeman's footsteps outside, and in his despair he called him in and repeated his story.

      The policeman listened gravely, threw the light of his dark lantern on the sleeping child.

      "I don't see what I can do," he said.

      "I give it into custody," cried the pawnbroker.

      "What's the charge?" asked the policeman.

      The pawnbroker wrung his hands. Finally the policeman departed, recommending the pawnbroker, before he left, to follow Mr. Loveday's advice and call down his wife. Mr. Loveday also went home, and the pawnbroker was left alone with his new and startling responsibility.

      "I'll call in the morning," said Mr. Loveday, "to see how you've got along with it."

      When he called he learned that nothing further had been discovered. The pawnbroker had passed a disturbed and sleepless night; the pawnbroker's wife was in the worst of tempers, and declared that either she or the baby СКАЧАТЬ