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The empty coffin had been reared against one of the walls and the marble slab was still stained with blood, for the keeper had not had time to clean it since the body had been removed. 'I can see 'ow it's been worked, said Crass at last. 'There's one of the members of the club who works for Snatchum, and 'e's took it on 'isself to give the order for the funeral; but 'e's got no right to do it.
We could see the aviator wave more clearly now; his broad smile almost made us imagine we heard his exultant laugh. "Who is it? What is it?" We boys gasped out the questions breathlessly. "'Ere he comes; watch 'im, mate; watch 'im. 'E's the Mad Major. Look, look he's looping! Gawd in 'eaven, they've got 'im. No, blimey, 'e's blinkin' luck itself. 'E's up again." "Who is the Mad Major?"
It's a easy job as ever I see. Seems to me Tuesday's as good a day as any. Tip-topper Sir Edward Talbot, that's 'im 'e's in furrin parts for 'is 'ealth, 'e is. Comes 'ome end o' next month. Little surprise for 'im, eh? You'll 'ave to train it. Abrams 'e'll be there Monday. And see 'ere . . ." He sank his voice to a whisper. When Dickie came back, without mushrooms, the red-whiskered man was gone.
Here he collapsed on the lowest step. The seaman Sam Lloyd came running, jumped over the engineer's prostrate body and climbed to the bridge. There was a brief silence, and then he shouted down "Dave! Dave Morgan!" "Ahoy! What's wrong there?" Another seaman came staggering aft. "Run, one o' you an' fetch up th' old man. Mate 'e's dead drunk 'ere, an' the ship pointin' any way this 'arf hour."
"No woman ever 'ad a better 'usband than Marley, though I ses it, but Sam here 's that 'ard 'e won't let me speak of my own man if 'e can 'elp 'it. 'Is own father, too. Ah, if 'e 'ad 'ad a bad father, Sam would 'ave know what to be thankful for." "I'm thankful 'e's gone," burst out Sam, with sudden anger. "I asks you, 'ow's a cove to get on when he's 'itched up to a father wot's done time?
"'E's got to go to bed," said the cook to Sam and Dick, who were standing together. "'E's been naughty." "Who said so?" asked Sam eagerly. "Skipper," replied the cook. "'E told me we wos to put him to bed ourselves." "You needn't trouble," said Henry stiffly; "I'll go all right." "It's no trouble," said Sam oilily. "It's a pleasure," said Dick truthfully.
At last he inquired of the constable on point duty, and then went up St. Martin's Lane. As soon as he had turned I approached the policeman and asked what the stranger wanted, explaining that he was a suspicious character whom I was following. "'E's a Frenchman. 'E wants Burton Crescent." "Where's that?" "Why, just off the Euston Road close to Judd Street. I've told 'im the way."
'E was worth two men at the lee fore brace, an' three at the bunt of a sail; 'E'd a voice you could 'ear to the royal-yards in the teeth of a Cape 'Orn gale; But now 'e's a full-blown lootenant an' wears the twisted braid, Commandin' one of 'is Majesty's ships in the North Atlantic trade." "And what is the ship you're sailin' in?"
'No! sez 'e, and 'ere's me vith vun eye a-going into mourning, and 'im vith a lump on 'is nob like a noo-laid egg!" "'E's game though, Jarsper," said the benevolent giant. "Game! I believe you, Corp!" nodded Mr. Shrig. "Run! I sez. 'No! sez 'e. 'Then v'ot vill you do? sez I. 'Make them! sez 'e. Game? Lord love me, I should say so!" Here, seeing Barnabas sit upright, Mr.
But as for those poor fellows out there " The door-bell rang again, insistently, and he broke off. A window upstairs rattled open, and they heard a man's steady voice: "'I there on the piazza! What do you want?" "I want to see Mr. Stanhope a minute," called a thicker voice from below. "On important business." "'E's not 'ere," said faithful Henry. "'E's expected to arrive to-morrow."
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