Part 26 (2/2)

Nancy Joe touched him on the shoulder. ”Kate is waiting for a word with you alone, sir,” she said, and Philip crossed the kitchen into the little parlour beyond, chill with china and bowls of sea-eggs and stuffed sea-birds.

”He's feeling it bad,” said Nancy.

”Never been the same since Pete went to the Cape,” said Caesar.

”I don't know for sure what good lads are going to it for,” moaned Grannie. ”And calling it Good Hope of all names! Died of a bullet in his head, too, aw dear, aw dear! Discussion of the brain it's like. And look at them black-heads too, as naked as my hand, I'll go bail. I hate the nasty dirts! Caesar may talk of one flesh and brethren and all to that, but for my part I'm not used of black brothers, and as for black angels in heaven, it's ridiculous.”

”When you're all done talking I'll finish the letter,” said Jonaique.

”They can't help it, Mr. Jelly, the women can't help it,” said Caesar.

”'Respected Sir, I must now close, but we are strapping up the chest of the deceased, just as he left it, and sending it to catch the steamer, the _Johannesburg_, leaving Cape Town Wednesday fortnight----'”

”Hm! Johannesburg. I'll meet her at the quay--it's my duty to meet her,”

said Caesar.

”And I'll board her in the bay,” shouted Black Tom.

”Thomas Quilliam,” said Caesar, ”it's borne in on my spirit that the devil of greed is let loose on you.”

”Caesar Cregeen, don't make a nose of wax of me,” bawled Tom, ”and don't think because you're praiching a bit that religion is going to die with you. Your head's swelling tre-menjous, and-you won't be able to sleep soon without somebody to tickle your feet. You'll be forgiving sins next, and taking money for absolution, and these ones will be making a pope of you and paying you pence. Pope Caesar, the publican, in his chapel hat and white choker! But that chiss is mine, and if there's law in the land I'll have it.”

With that Black Tom swept out of the house, and Caesar wiped his eyes.

”No use smoothing a thistle, Mr. Cregeen,” said Jonaique soothingly.

”I've a conscience void of offence.” said Caesar. ”I can only follow the spirit's leading. But when Belial----”

He was interrupted by a most mournful cry of ”Look here! Aw, look, then, look!”

Nancy was coming out of the back-kitchen with something between the tips of her fingers. It was a pair of old shoes, covered with dirt and cobwebs.

”These were his wearing boots,” she said, and she put them on the counter.

”Dear heart, yes, the very ones,” said Grannie. ”Poor boy, they'd move a heart of stone to see them. Something to remember him by, anyway. Many a mile his feet walked in them; but they're resting now in Abraham's bosom.”

Then Caesar's voice rose loud over the doleful tones around the counter.

”'Vital Spark of Heavenly Flame'--raise it, Mr. Niplightly. Pity we haven't Peter and his fiddle here--he played with life.”

”I can'd sing to-day, having a cold, bud I'll whisle id,” said the Constable.

”Pitch it in altoes, then,” said Caesar. ”I'm a bit of a base myself, but not near so base as Peter.”

Meanwhile a little drama of serious interest was going on upstairs.

There sat Kate before the looking-gla.s.s, with flushed cheeks and quivering mouth. The low drone of many voices came to her through the floor. Then a dull silence and one voice, and Nancy Joe coming and going between the kitchen and bedroom.

”What are they doing now, Nancy?” said Kate.

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