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It was evident he was thinking deeply, and that he was much affected by his friend's troubles. "There is only one way for me to get clear," said Pepper, as he finished a thrilling recital of his wrongs, "and that is, to find Cap'n Budd, her first." "Why, he's dead!" said Crippen, staring hard. "Don't you waste your time looking for him!" "I'm not going to," said Pepper; "but here's his portrait.
"Act Cap'n Budd!" gasped the astonished Crippen, putting down his glass and staring at his friend. "The part is written here," said the ex-pilot, producing a note-book from his breast pocket and holding it out to his friend. "I've been keeping a log day by day of all the things she said about him, in the hopes of catching her tripping, but I never did.
Indeed, except for her nervousness and care of her friend, this week had been almost as absorbing to Esther Crippen as to the other girl. For after the first two nights she had lost her fear that Polly might make an absolute failure of her part, and also the impression that either of them might be insulted or unkindly treated by the men and women about them.
They had believed that Esther was improving a little in her appearance. Yet just now worry and uncertainty made her seem plainer even than usual. And she had on an ugly but thoroughly useful chocolate-colored dress that Betty would have made her throw into the fire at once. "Betty, it was always Betty with Esther Crippen!" If only she could reach Esther in some way through their friend.
"Never again, Jem," said Mrs. Pepper firmly. "My place is by your side. If you're ashamed of people looking at you, I'm not. I'm proud of you. Come along. Come and show yourself, and tell them who you are. You shall never go out of my sight again as long as I live. Never." She began to whimper. "What's to be done?" inquired Crippen, turning desperately on the bewildered pilot.
Does it cease to be murder?" "Yes, of course it does," replied a young fellow, named Poldhu, who had arranged to leave for his regiment on the following morning. "How?" Poldhu was silent for a moment, then he cried out, "Is a hangman a murderer, for hanging a devil? Is a judge a murderer for condemning a fellow like Crippen to death?" "And you mean to say you are going to funk it?"
Could she ever again be happy even for a day or an hour? And yet the law said: "If we have pain, to hide it, if others have sorrow, be quick to relieve it." But what the rest of the law read she could not now recall. For Herr Crippen was beginning to play one of the most exquisite pieces of music that can ever be rendered on the violin, Schubert's Serenade.
The train rolled into the station; passengers stepped in and out; doors slammed, and the guard had already placed the whistle in his mouth, when Captain Crippen, breathing stentorously, came stumbling blindly on to the platform, and was hustled into a third class carriage. "Close shave that, sir," said the station-master as he closed the door.
More than that, you've got the most wonderful gift for acting I've ever seen. Ever since the time when you acted in that barn at Bristol I've never seen any actor I can honestly say I've liked never! Look how you can imitate cats better than Henry Irving himself!" "I never had much chance, being at sea all my life," said Crippen modestly. "You've got the gift," said Pepper impressively.
"Shocking!" said Pepper, with a groan. "Ill?" inquired the captain. "Ill-tempered," said Pepper. "In fact, cap'n, I don't mind telling you, she's killing me slowly killing me!" "Pooh!" said Crippen. "Nonsense! You don't know how to manage her!" "I thought perhaps you could advise me," said the artful Pepper. "I said to myself yesterday, 'Pepper, go and see Cap'n Crippen.
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