At Sunwich Port, Complete

“Mother,” announced Mr. Silk, in a whisper.

Mr. Kybird nodded, and the heroic appearance of visage which had accompanied his tale gave way to an expression of some uneasiness. He coughed behind his hand, and sat gazing before him as Mrs. Silk entered the room and gave vent to an exclamation of astonishment as she saw the visitor. She gazed sharply from him to her son. Mr. Kybird’s expression was now normal, but despite his utmost efforts Mr. Silk could not entirely banish the smile which trembled on his lips.

“Me and Teddy,” said Mr. Kybird, turning to her with a little bob, which served him for a bow, “‘ave just been having a little talk about old times.”

“He was just passing,” said Mr. Silk.

“Just passing, and thought I’d look in,” said Mr. Kybird, with a careless little laugh; “the door was open a bit.”

“Wide open,” corroborated Mr. Silk.

“So I just came in to say ‘’Ow d’ye do?’” said Mr. Kybird.

Mrs. Silk’s sharp, white face turned from one to the other. “Ave you said it?” she inquired, blandly.

“I ‘ave,” said Mr. Kybird, restraining Mr. Silk’s evident intention of hot speech by a warning glance; “and now I’ll just toddle off ‘ome.”

“I’ll go a bit o’ the way with you,” said Edward Silk. “I feel as if a bit of a walk would do me good.”

Left alone, the astonished Mrs. Silk took the visitor’s vacated chair and, with wrinkled brow, sat putting two and two together until the sum got beyond her powers of calculation. Mr. Kybird’s affability and Teddy’s cheerfulness were alike incomprehensible. She mended a hole in her pocket and darned a pair of socks, and at last, anxious for advice, or at least a confidant, resolved to see Mr. Wilks.

She opened the door and looked across the alley, and saw with some satisfaction that his blind was illuminated. She closed the door behind her sharply, and then stood gasping on the doorstep. So simultaneous were the two happenings that it actually appeared as though the closing of the door had blown Mr. Wilks’s lamp out. It was a night of surprises, but after a moment’s hesitation she stepped over and tried his door. It was fast, and there was no answer to her knuckling. She knocked louder and listened. A door slammed violently at the back of the house, a distant clatter of what sounded like saucepans came from beyond, and above it all a tremulous but harsh voice bellowed industriously through an interminable chant. By the time the third verse was reached Mr. Wilks’s neighbours on both sides were beating madly upon their walls and blood-curdling threats strained through the plaster.

She stayed no longer, but regaining her own door sat down again to await the return of her son. Mr. Silk was long in coming, and she tried in vain to occupy herself with various small jobs as she speculated in vain on the meaning of the events of the night. She got up and stood by the open door, and as she waited the clock in the church-tower, which rose over the roofs hard by, slowly boomed out the hour of eleven. As the echoes of the last stroke died away the figure of Mr. Silk turned into the alley.

“You must ‘ave ‘ad quite a nice walk,” said his mother, as she drew back into the room and noted the brightness of his eye.

“Yes,” was the reply.

“I s’pose ‘e’s been and asked you to the wedding?” said the sarcastic Mrs. Silk.

Her son started and, turning his back on her, wound up the clock. “Yes, ‘e has,” he said, with a sly grin.

Mrs. Silk’s eyes snapped. “Well, of all the impudence,” she said, breathlessly.

“Well, ‘e has,” said her son, hugging himself over the joke. “And, what’s more, I’m going.”

He composed his face sufficiently to bid her “good-night,” and, turning a deaf ear to her remonstrances and inquiries, took up a candle and went off whistling.

CHAPTER XXIV

The idea in the mind of Mr. James Hardy when he concocted his infamous plot was that Jack Nugent would be summarily dismissed on some pretext by Miss Kybird, and that steps would at once be taken by her family to publish her banns together with those of Mr. Silk. In thinking thus he had made no allowance for the workings and fears of such a capable mind as Nathan Smith’s, and as days passed and nothing happened he became a prey to despair.

He watched Mr. Silk keenly, but that gentleman went about his work in his usual quiet and gloomy fashion, and, after a day’s leave for the purpose of arranging the affairs of a sick aunt in Camberwell, came back only a little less gloomy than before. It was also clear that Mr. Swann’s complaisance was nearly at an end, and a letter, couched in vigorous, not to say regrettable, terms for a moribund man, expressed such a desire for fresh air and exercise that Hardy was prepared to see him at any moment.

It was the more unfortunate as he thought that he had of late detected a slight softening in Captain Nugent’s manner towards him. On two occasions the captain, who was out when he called, had made no comment to find upon his return that the visitor was being entertained by his daughter, going so far, indeed, as to permit the conversation to gain vastly in interest by that young person remaining in the room. In face of this improvement he thought with dismay of having to confess failure in a scheme which apart from success was inexcusable.

The captain had also unbent in another direction, and Mr. Wilks, to his great satisfaction, was allowed to renew his visits to Equator Lodge and assist his old master in the garden. Here at least the steward was safe from the designs of Mrs. Silk and the innuendoes of Fullalove Alley.

It was at this time, too, that the widow stood in most need of his advice, the behaviour of Edward Silk being of a nature to cause misgivings in any mother’s heart. A strange restlessness possessed him, varied with occasional outbursts of hilarity and good nature. Dark hints emanated from him at these times concerning a surprise in store for her at no distant date, hints which were at once explained away in a most unsatisfactory manner when she became too pressing in her inquiries. He haunted the High Street, and when the suspicious Mrs. Silk spoke of Amelia he only laughed and waxed humorous over such unlikely subjects as broken hearts and broken vows.

It was a week after Mr. Kybird’s visit to the alley that he went, as usual, for a stroll up and down the High Street. The evening was deepening, and some of the shops had already lit up, as Mr. Silk, with his face against the window-pane, tried in vain to penetrate the obscurity of Mr. Kybird’s shop. He could just make out a dim figure behind the counter, which he believed to be Amelia, when a match was struck and a gas jet threw a sudden light in the shop and revealed Mr. Jack Nugent standing behind the counter with his hand on the lady’s shoulder.

One glance was sufficient. The next moment there was a sharp cry from Miss Kybird and a bewildered stare from Nugent as something, only comparable to a human cracker, bounced into the shop and commenced to explode before them.

“Take your ‘and off,” raved Mr. Silk. “Leave ‘er alone. ‘Ow dare you? D’ye hear me? ‘Melia, I won’t ‘ave it! I won’t ‘ave it!”

“Don’t be silly, Teddy,” remonstrated Mr. Nugent, following up Miss Kybird, as she edged away from him.

“Leave ‘er alone, d’ye ‘ear?” yelled Mr. Silk, thumping the counter with his small fist. “She’s my wife!”

“Teddy’s mad,” said Mr. Nugent, calmly, “stark, staring, raving mad. Poor Teddy.”

He shook his head sadly, and had just begun to recommend a few remedies when the parlour door opened and the figure of Mr. Kybird, with his wife standing close behind him, appeared in the doorway.

“Who’s making all this noise?” demanded the former, looking from one to the other.

“I am,” said Mr. Silk, fiercely. “It’s no use your winking at me; I’m not going to ‘ave any more of this nonsense. ‘Melia, you go and get your ‘at on and come straight off ‘ome with me.”

Mr. Kybird gave a warning cough. “Go easy, Teddy,” he murmured.

“And don’t you cough at me,” said the irritated Mr. Silk, “because it won’t do no good.”

Mr. Kybird subsided. He was not going to quarrel with a son-in-law who might at any moment be worth ten thousand pounds.

“Isn’t he mad?” inquired the amazed Mr. Nugent.

“Cert’nly not,” replied Mr. Kybird, moving aside to let his daughter pass; “no madder than you are. Wot d’ye mean, mad?”

Mr. Nugent looked round in perplexity. “Do you mean to tell me that Teddy and Amelia are married?” he said, in a voice trembling with eagerness.

“I do,” said Mr. Kybird. “It seems they’ve been fond of one another all along, and they went up all unbeknown last Friday and got a license and got married.”

“And if I see you putting your ‘and on ‘er shoulder ag’in” said Mr. Silk, with alarming vagueness.

“But suppose she asks me to?” said the delighted Mr. Nugent, with much gravity.

“Look ‘ere, we don’t want none o’ your non-sense,” broke in the irate Mrs. Kybird, pushing her way past her husband and confronting the speaker.

“I’ve been deceived,” said Mr. Nugent in a thrilling voice; “you’ve all been deceiving me. Kybird, I blush for you (that will save you a lot of trouble). Teddy, I wouldn’t have believed it of you. I can’t stay here; my heart is broken.”

“Well we don’t want you to,” retorted the aggressive Mrs. Kybird. “You can take yourself off as soon as ever you like. You can’t be too quick to please me.”

Mr. Nugent bowed and walked past the counter. “And not even a bit of wedding-cake for me,” he said, shaking a reproachful head at the heated Mr. Silk. “Why, I’d put you down first on my list.”

He paused at the door, and after a brief intimation that he would send for his effects on the following day, provided that his broken heart had not proved fatal in the meantime, waved his hand to the company and departed. Mr. Kybird followed him to the door as though to see him off the premises, and gazing after the receding figure swelled with indignation as he noticed that he favoured a mode of progression which was something between a walk and a hornpipe.

Mr. Nugent had not been in such spirits since his return to Sunwich, and, hardly able to believe in his good fortune, he walked on in a state of growing excitement until he was clear of the town. Then he stopped to consider his next move, and after a little deliberation resolved to pay a visit to Jem Hardy and acquaint him with the joyful tidings.