Part 22 (2/2)

Babel was hushed.

”Mum's the word for _three minutes_,” said d.i.c.k, pointing to a huge Yankee clock which stood on the chimney-piece, with a model frigate in a gla.s.s case, and a painted sea and sky on one side of it, and a model light-vessel in a gla.s.s case, and a painted sea and sky on the other.

There was profound wisdom in this arrangement. If d.i.c.k had ordered silence for an indefinite s.p.a.ce of time, there would have been discontent, approximating to despair, in Babel's bosom, and, therefore, strong temptation to rebellion. But three minutes embraced a fixed and known period of time. The result was a desperate effort at restraint, mingled with gleeful antic.i.p.ation. The elder children who could read the clock stared eagerly at the Yankee time-piece; the younger ones who couldn't read the clock, but who knew that the others could, stared intently at their seniors, and awaited the signal. With the exception of hard breathing, the silence was complete; the baby being spell-bound by example, and the feeble remarks of the infant--which had been transferred to the arms of the eldest girl--making no impression worth speaking of.

”You are very kind,” said Nora, ”I'll stay for breakfast with pleasure.

Grandmother won't be up for an hour yet, and father's not at home just now.”

”Werry good,” said d.i.c.k, taking a short black pipe out of his coat-pocket, ”that's all right. And 'ow do 'ee like Ramsgate, Nora, now you've had a fair trial of it?”

”I think I like it better than Yarmouth; but perhaps that is because we live in a more airy and cheerful street. I would not have troubled you so early, Mr Moy”--(”'Tain't no trouble at all, Nora; werry much the reverse”)--”but that I am anxious to hear how you got on with poor Billy--”

At this point Babel burst forth with redoubled fury. d.i.c.k was attacked and carried by storm; the short black pipe was seized, and an old hat was clapped on his head and thrust down over his eyes! He gave in at once, and submitted with resignation. He struck his colours, so to speak, without firing a shot, and for full five minutes breasted the billows of a sea of children manfully, while smart Mrs Moy spread the breakfast-table as quietly as if nothing were going on, and Nora sat and smiled at them.

Suddenly d.i.c.k rose for the second time from his dive, flung off the foam, tossed aside the baby, rescued the infant from impending destruction, and thundered ”Silence! mum's the word for three minutes more.”

”That's six, daddy!” cried the eldest boy, whose spirit of opposition was growing so strong that he could not help indulging it, even against his own interests.

”No,” said d.i.c.k sternly.

”It was three minutes last time,” urged the boy; ”an' you said three minutes _more_ this time; three minutes more than three minutes is six minutes, ain't it?”

”Three minutes,” repeated d.i.c.k, holding up a warning finger.

Babel ceased; the nine pair of eyes (excepting those of the infant) became fixed, and Nora proceeded--

”I wanted to hear how you got on with Billy. Did they take him in at once? and what sort of place is the Grotto? You see I am naturally anxious to know, because it was a terrible thing to send a poor boy away from his only friend among strangers at such an age, and just after recovering from a bad illness; but you know I could not do otherwise.

It would have been his ruin to have--”

She paused.

”To have stopped where he was, I s'pose you would say?” observed d.i.c.k.

”Well, I ain't sure o' that, Nora. It's quite true that the bad company he'd 'ave seen would 'ave bin against 'im; but to 'ave you for his guardian hangel might 'ave counteracted that. It would 'ave bin like the soda to the hacid, a fizz at first and all square arterwards.

Hows'ever, that don't signify now, cos he's all right. I tuk him to the Grotto, the werry first thing arter I'd bin to the Trinity 'Ouse, and seed him cast anchor there all right, and--”

Again Babel burst forth, and riot reigned supreme for five minutes more.

At the end of that time silence was proclaimed as before.

”Now then,” said d.i.c.k, ”breakfast bein' ready, place the chairs.”

The three elder children obeyed this order. Each member of this peculiar household had been ”told off,” as d.i.c.k expressed it, to a special duty, which was performed with all the precision of discipline characteristic of a man-of-war.

”That's all right; now go in and win,” said d.i.c.k. There was no occasion to appeal to the Yankee clock now. Tongues and throats as well as teeth and jaws were too fully occupied. Babel succ.u.mbed for full quarter of an hour, during which period d.i.c.k Moy related to Nora the circ.u.mstances connected with a recent visit to London, whither he had been summoned as a witness in a criminal trial, and to which, at Nora's earnest entreaty, and with the boy's unwilling consent, he had conveyed Billy Towler. We say unwilling, because Billy, during his long period of convalescence, had been so won by the kindness of Nora, that the last thing in the world he would have consented to bear was separation from her; but, on thinking over it, he was met by this insurmountable difficulty--that the last thing in the world he would consent to do was to disobey her!

Between these two influences he went unwillingly to London--for the sake of his education, as Nora said to him--for the sake of being freed from the evil influence of her father's example, as poor Nora was compelled to admit to herself.

”The Grotto,” said d.i.c.k, speaking as well as he could through an immense mouthful of bacon and bread, ”is an inst.i.tootion which I 'ave reason for to believe desarves well of its country. It is an inst.i.tootion sitooate in Paddington Street, Marylebone, where homeless child'n, as would otherwise come to the gallows, is took in an' saved--saved not only from sin an' misery themselves, but saved from inflictin' the same on society. I do a.s.sure _you_,” said d.i.c.k, striking the table with his fist in his enthusiasm, so that the crockery jumped, and some of the children almost choked by reason of their food going down what they styled their ”wrong throats”--”I do a.s.sure _you_, that it would 'ave done yer 'art good to 'ave seed 'm, as I did the day I went there, so clean and comf'r'able and 'appy--no mistake about that. Their 'appiness was genoo_ine_. Wot made it come 'ome to me was, that I seed there a little boy as I 'appened to know was one o' the dirtiest, wickedest, sharpest little willains in London--a mere spider to look at, but with mischief enough to fill a six-fut man to bu'stin'--an' there 'ee was, clean an' jolly, larnin' his lessons like a good un--an' no sham neither, cos 'e'd got a good spice o' the mischief left, as was pretty clear from the way 'ee gave a sly pinch or pull o' the hair now an'

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