Peregrine's Progress Part 94

"Yes, you beautiful Aunt," said I, "this is what I mean--this whose simple mention has turned you into a girl of sixteen, this wonderful truth that uncle Jervas had divined already." And I told her of his dying words: "'You will marry her after all, George--our Julia. I see now that she always loved you best!'"

"Oh, dear Jervas!" she murmured.

"He has left uncle George who loved him so greatly, very solitary--listen, dear Aunt!"

Up to us through the open lattice, borne upon the fragrant air, came that small, soft sound where my uncle George paced ceaselessly to and fro amid the gathering dusk.

"Poor George!" she whispered tenderly.

"He is so--utterly forlorn, Aunt."

"Dear George!"

"And so very much a man, Aunt!"

"And such a child!" she murmured. "So big and strong and such a helpless baby! Dear George!"

Here I turned to my writing again, heard the door close softly and, glancing up, found myself alone. Then, tossing down my pen, I arose and from a cupboard reached forth a hat and well-filled knapsack which last I proceeded to buckle to my shoulders; this done, I took a stout stick from a corner and stood ready for my wanderings. Thus equipped, I crossed to the window that I might see if the coast was clear, since I meant to steal away with no chance of tears or sorrowful farewells.

They were standing on the terrace in the gathering dusk; as I looked, Aunt Julia reached up and, taking his haggard face between her gentle hands, drew it down lower and lower; and when she spoke, no ear save his might catch her soft-breathed words.

And then his great arms were fast about her and there broke from him a sobbing cry of ecstasy.

"O Julia--at last. He was right then--our Jervas was right!"

And so my uncle George learned to weep at last and found within her loving arms the blessed relief of tears.

CHAPTER XII

HOW I WENT UPON AN EXPEDITION WITH MR. SHRIG

I had been ringing ineffectually at the bell of my chambers for perhaps five minutes and was about to visit the adjacent mews in quest of my groom, when a voice spoke my name, and turning about, I beheld Mr. Shrig, the Bow Street officer.

"Mr. Werricker, sir," said he, touching his low-crowned, wide-brimmed hat with a thick forefinger, "it ain't no manner o' use you a-ringin'

o' that theer bell, because there ain't n.o.body to answer same, your young man Clegg 'aving took a little 'oliday, d'ye see, sir."

"A holiday, Mr. Shrig! Pray how do you know?"

"By obserwation, sir. I've a powerful gift that way, sir--from a infant."

"This is very extraordinary behaviour in Clegg!"

"But then, sir, your young man is a rayther extraordinary young man.

'Owsoever he's gone, sir, and I appre'end as he ain't a-comin'

back--judgin' by vat 'e says in 'is letter."

"What letter?"

"The letter as 'e's left for you a-layin' on your desk this werry minute along o' my stick as I 'appened to forget--but you'll be vantin' to gain hadmittance, I expect, sir."

"I do."

"Vy then, 't is rayther fortunate as I did forget my stick or I shouldn't ha' come back for it in time to be o' service to you, Mr.

Werricker. By your leave, sir." Saying which, Mr. Shrig took a small, neat implement from one of his many capacious pockets, inserted it into the keyhole, gave it a twist, and the door swung open.

"Ah--a skeleton key, Mr. Shrig?"

"That werry i-dentical, sir."

"Is this how you gained admittance to my chambers?"

"Ex-actly, sir."

"And, being there, read my private letters?"

"Only the vun, sir--dooty is dooty--only the vun. And I've a varrant o' search--"

Entering my small library, I espied Mr. Shrig's k.n.o.bbed staff lying upon my desk and beside it a letter laid carefully apart from a pile of unopened missives.

"Is this the letter?"

"The werry same, sir."

"But if you have read it, how comes the seal unbroken?"

"By means of a warm knife-blade, sir."

Wondering, I opened the letter and read as follows:

SIR: I regret that I am forced by circ.u.mstances to quit your service at a moment's notice, but trust you will find all in order as regards tradesmen's accounts, your clothes, linen, napery, etc. The key of the silver you will find under the hearthrug.

Hoping you will find one as zealous as the unfortunate writer,

I remain, sir, Yours respectfully, THOMAS CLEGG.

"Very strange!" said I.

"Ah!" sighed Mr. Shrig. "But then life generally is, Mr. Werricker, sir, if you'll take the trouble to ob-serve; so strange that I ain't never surprised at nothing--nowhere and nohow, sir. For instance, if you a-peepin' from the garret winder o' the 'ouse opposite--yonder across the street--'ad 'appened to ob-serve a young fe-male on her knees--here beside your werry own desk and veepin' fit to break 'er 'eart, pore soul--you'd ha' been surprised, I think--but I wasn't, no, not nohow--"

"Do you mean you actually saw a woman here--here in my chambers?"

"Aye, I did, sir!"