Dialstone Lane, Part 3. William Wymark Jacobs

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СКАЧАТЬ you was a young man—keeping company with a gal—and 'er father wanted—to borrow a couple of quid off o' you—what would you do?" repeated Mr. Tasker, mechanically, as he bustled to and fro.

      Mr. Vickers nodded and smiled. "What should I do?" he inquired again, hopefully.

      "I don't know, I'm sure," said the other, opening the oven door and peering in. "How should I?"

      At the imminent risk of something inside giving way under the strain, Mr. Vickers restrained himself. He breathed hard, and glancing out of window sought to regain his equilibrium by becoming interested in a blackbird outside.

      "What I mean to say is," he said at length, in a trembling voice—"what I mean to say is, without no round-aboutedness, will you lend a 'ard-working man, what's going to be your future father-in-law, a couple o' pounds?"

      Mr. Tasker laughed. It was not a loud laugh, nor yet a musical one. It was merely a laugh designed to convey to the incensed Mr. Vickers a strong sense of the absurdity of his request.

      "I asked you a question," said the latter gentleman, glaring at him.

      "I haven't got a couple o' pounds," replied Mr. Tasker; "and if I 'ad, there's nine hundred and ninety-nine things I would sooner do with it than lend it to you."

      Mr. Vickers rose and stood regarding the ignoble creature with profound contempt. His features worked and a host of adjectives crowded to his lips.

      "Is that your last word, Joseph?" he inquired, with solemn dignity.

      "I'll say it all over again if you like," said the obliging Mr. Tasker. "If you want money, go and earn it, same as I have to; don't come round 'ere cadging on me, because it's no good."

      Mr. Vickers laughed; a dry, contemptuous laugh, terrible to hear.

      "And that's the man that's going to marry my daughter," he said, slowly; "that's the man that's going to marry into my family. Don't you expect me to take you up and point you out as my son-in-law, cos I won't do it. If there's anything I can't abide it's stinginess. And there's my gal —my pore gal don't know your real character. Wait till I've told 'er about this morning and opened 'er eyes! Wait till—"

      He stopped abruptly as the door leading to the front room opened and revealed the inquiring face of Captain Bowers.

      "What's all this noise about, Joseph?" demanded the captain, harshly.

      Mr. Tasker attempted to explain, but his explanation involving a character for Mr. Vickers which that gentleman declined to accept on any terms, he broke in and began to give his own version of the affair. Much to Joseph's surprise the captain listened patiently.

      "Did you buy all those things, Joseph?" he inquired, carelessly, as Mr. Vickers paused for breath.

      "Cert'nly not, sir," replied Mr. Tasker. "Where should I get the money from?"

      The captain eyed him without replying, and a sudden suspicion occurred to him. The strange disappearance of the map, followed by the sudden cessation of Mr. Chalk's visits, began to link themselves to this tale of unexpected wealth. He bestowed another searching glance upon the agitated Mr. Tasker.

      "You haven't sold anything lately, have you?" he inquired, with startling gruffness.

      "I haven't 'ad nothing to sell, sir," replied the other, in astonishment. "And I dare say Mr. Vickers here saw a new pair o' boots on one o' the young'uns and dreamt all the rest."

      Mr. Vickers intervened with passion.

      "That'll do," said the captain, sharply. "How dare you make that noise in my house? I think that the tale about the clothes is all right," he added, turning to Joseph. "I saw them go into church looking very smart. And you know nothing about it?"

      Mr. Tasker's astonishment was too genuine to be mistaken, and the captain, watching him closely, transferred his suspicions to a more deserving object. Mr. Vickers caught his eye and essayed a smile.

      "Dry work talking, sir," he said, gently.

      Captain Bowers eyed him steadily. "Have we got any beer, Joseph?" he inquired.

      "Plenty in the cask, sir," said Mr. Tasker, reluctantly.

      "Well, keep your eye on it," said the captain. "Good morning, Mr. Vickers."

      But disappointment and indignation got the better of Mr. Vickers's politeness.

      CHAPTER X

      "Penny for your thoughts, uncle," said Miss Drewitt, as they sat at dinner an hour or two after the departure of Mr. Vickers.

      "H'm?" said the captain, with a guilty start. "You've been scowling and smiling by turns for the last five minutes," said his niece.

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