"No," replied Mrs Drummond, smiling; "but I should be obliged for a gla.s.s of water. Will you get me one, Jacob?"
I hastened to comply, and Mrs Drummond entered into conversation with Mrs Beazeley. Sarah looked at me, and went to the door, turning back as inviting me to follow. I did so, and we soon found ourselves seated on the bench in the old boat.
"Jacob," said she, looking earnestly at me, "you surely will be friends with _my_ father?"
I think I should have shaken my head, but she laid an emphasis on _my_, which the little gipsy knew would have its effect. All my resolutions, all my pride, all my sense of injury vanished before the mild, beautiful eyes of Sarah, and I replied hastily, "Yes, Miss Sarah, I can refuse _you_ nothing."
"Why _Miss_, Jacob?"
"I am a waterman, and you are much above me."
"That is your own fault; but say no more about it."
"I must say something more, which is this: do not attempt to make me leave my present employment; I am happy, because I am independent; and that I will, if possible, be for the future."
"Any one can pull an oar, Jacob."
"Very true, Miss Sarah, and is under no obligation to any one by so earning his livelihood. He works for all and is paid for all."
"Will you come and see us, Jacob? Come to-morrow--now do--promise me.
Will you refuse your old playmate, Jacob?"
"I wish you would not ask that."
"How then can you say that you are friends with my father? I will not believe you unless you promise to come."
"Sarah," replied I, earnestly, "I will come; and to prove to you that we are friends, I will ask a favour of him."
"Oh, Jacob, this is kind indeed," cried Sarah, with her eyes swimming with tears. "You have made me so--so very happy!"
The meeting with Sarah humanised me, and every feeling of revenge was chased from my memory. Mrs Drummond joined us soon after, and proposed to return. "And Jacob will pull us back," cried Sarah. "Come, sir, look after your _fare_, in both senses. Since you will be a waterman, you shall work." I laughed and handed them to the boat. Tom took the other oar, and we were soon at the steps close to their house.
"Mamma, we ought to give these poor fellows something to drink; they"ve worked very hard," said Sarah, mocking. "Come up, my good men." I hesitated. "Nay, Jacob, if tomorrow why not to-day? The sooner these things are over the better."
I felt the truth of this observation, and followed her. In a few minutes I was again in that parlour in which I had been dismissed, and in which the affectionate girl burst into tears on my shoulder, as I held the handle of the door. I looked at it, and looked at Sarah. Mrs Drummond had gone out of the room to let Mr Drummond know that I had come. "How kind you were, Sarah!" said I.
"Yes, but kind people are cross sometimes, and so am I--and so was--"
Mr Drummond came in, and stopped her. "Jacob, I am glad to see you again in my house; I was deceived by appearances, and did you injustice." How true is the observation of the wise man, that a soft word turneth away wrath; that Mr Drummond should personally acknowledge that he was wrong to me--that he should confess it--every feeling of resentment was gone, and others crowded in their place. I recollected how he had protected the orphan--how he had provided him with instruction--how he had made _his_ house a home to me--how he had tried to bring me forward under his own protection I recollected--which, alas!
I never should have forgotten--that he had treated me for years with kindness and affection, all of which had been obliterated from my memory by one single act of injustice. I felt that I was a culprit, and burst into tears; and Sarah, as before, cried in sympathy.
"I beg your pardon, Mr Drummond," said I, as soon as I could speak; "I have been very wrong in being so revengeful after so much kindness from you."
"We both have been wrong--but say no more on the subject, Jacob; I have an order to give, and then I will come up to you again;" and Mr Drummond quitted the room.
"You dear, good boy," said Sarah, coming up to me. "Now, I really do love you."
What I might have replied was put a stop to by Mrs Drummond entering the room. She made a few inquiries about where I at present resided, and Sarah was catechising me rather inquisitively about Mary Stapleton, when Mr Drummond re-entered the room, and shook me by the hand with a warmth which made me more ashamed of my conduct towards him. The conversation became general, but still rather embarra.s.sed, when Sarah whispered to me "What is the favour you would ask of my father?" I had forgotten it at the moment, but I immediately told him that I would be obliged if he would allow me to have a part of the money belonging to me which he held in his possession.
"That I will, with pleasure, and without asking what you intend to do with it, Jacob. How much do you require?"
"Thirty pounds, if there is so much."
Mr Drummond went down, and in a few minutes returned with the sum in notes and guineas. I thanked him, and shortly afterwards took my leave.
"Did not young Beazeley tell you I had something for you, Jacob?" said Sarah, as I wished her good-bye.
"Yes; what is it?"
"You must come and see," replied Sarah, laughing. Thus was a finale to all my revenge brought about by a little girl of fifteen years old, with large dark eyes.
Tom had taken his gla.s.s of grog below, and was waiting for me at the steps. We shoved off, and returned to his father"s house, where dinner was just ready. After dinner old Tom recommenced the argument; "The only hitch," says he, "is about the wherry. What do you say, old woman?" The old woman shook her head.
"As that is the only hitch," said I, "I can remove it, for here is the money for the wherry, which I make a present to Tom," and I put the money into young Tom"s hand. Tom counted it out before his father and mother, much to their astonishment.
"You are a good fellow, Jacob," said Tom; "but I say, do you recollect Wimbledon Common?"
"What then?" replied I.
"Only Jerry Abershaw, that"s all."
"Do not be afraid, Tom, it is honestly mine."
"But how did you get it, Jacob," said old Tom.
It may appear strange, but, impelled by a wish to serve my friends, I had asked for the money which I knew belonged to me, but never thought of the manner in which it had been obtained. The question of old Tom recalled everything to my memory, and I shuddered when I recollected the circ.u.mstances attending it. I was confused, and did not like to reply.
"Be satisfied, the money is mine," replied I.
"Yes, Jacob, but how?" replied Mrs Beazeley; "surely you ought to be able to tell how you got so large a sum."
"Jacob has some reason for not telling, missus, depend upon it; mayhap Mr Turnbull, or whoever gave it to him, told him to hold his tongue."
But this answer would not satisfy Mrs Beazeley, who declared she would not allow a farthing to be taken unless she knew how it was obtained.
"Tom, give back the money directly," said she, looking at me suspiciously.
Tom laid it on the table before me, without saying a word.
"Take it, Tom," said I, colouring up. "I had it from my mother."
"From your mother, Jacob!" said old Tom. "Nay, that could not well be, if my memory sarves me right. Still it may be."
"Deary me, I don"t like this at all," cried Mrs Beazeley, getting up, and wiping her ap.r.o.n with a quick motion. "Oh, Jacob, that must be--not the truth."
I coloured up to the tips of my ears at being suspected of falsehood. I looked round, and saw that even Tom and his father had a melancholy doubt in their countenances; and certainly my confused appearance would have caused suspicion in anybody. "I little thought," said I, at last, "when I hoped to have so much pleasure in giving, and to find that I had made you happy in receiving the money, that it would have proved a source of so much annoyance. I perceive that I am suspected of having obtained it improperly, and of not having told the truth. That Mrs Beazeley may think so, who does not know me, is not to be wondered at; but that you," continued I, turning to old Tom, "or you," looking at his son, "should suspect me, is very mortifying; and I did not expect it. I tell you that the money is mine, honestly mine, and obtained from my mother. I ask you, do you believe me?"
"I, for one, do believe you, Jacob," said young Tom, striking his fist on the table. "I can"t understand it, but I know you never told a lie, or did a dishonourable act since I"ve known you."
"Thank you, Tom," said I, taking his proffered hand.