A Mummer's Wife Part 20

XI

Next morning the sky was low and grey, and the house-tops appeared dimly through the mist. A little later the clouds began to gather, and it seemed like rain, but now and then a shaft of sunlight fell on a corner of the table within a few inches of Kate's impatiently moving fingers. She had not been able to eat any breakfast--had just crumbled a piece of bread and sipped a cup of tea, and begged d.i.c.k to hasten. It seemed that he hadn't a thought for her, of what her fate would be if they missed the train. She couldn't spend another night in Hanley.

'd.i.c.k, dear, do make haste. We shall miss the train.'

'We've plenty of time,' he answered, and she read in his face the desire for another plate of crumpets, and she prayed that he might not ask for another egg.

'd.i.c.k, it's ten minutes to ten.'

'I don't think it can be as much as that, dear.' He turned to look at the clock, which was behind him.

'Oh, d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k! Make haste, I beg of you; you don't know what I'm suffering. Supposing my husband was to come in now and find us here?'

'He can't know that we're here; the station is the first place he'd go to; there's no use hanging about there longer than we can help.'

'Oh dear, I'd give ten years of my life if we were once in the train.'

'There's no use exciting yourself like that, dear; I'll see that you don't meet anyone.'

'How will you manage that?'

'I'll tell you in the cab. I think on the whole we'd better start now.

Luckily, we haven't much luggage to delay us. Waiter, bring the bill and call me a cab.'

'And how will you save me from meeting him if he's there before us?' she said to d.i.c.k as they drove away.

'I'll leave you in the cab, and cut down and see if he's there.'

'He might come and find me when you were gone, and that would be worse than anything. He might kill me, and I should have no one to save me.'

He was, in truth, a little puzzled, for there was no getting away from the fact that it was only too possible, not to say probable, that they would find Mr. Ede waiting for them. He thought of disguises and secret doors, and masks and wigs, of the wardrobe-baskets, but a moment's reflection convinced him of the impracticability of stowing Kate away in one of these.

He then thought of wrapping a railway rug around his newly-acquired wife, and carrying her thus concealed in his arms; but that would not do either.

Mr. Ede would be sure to ask him what he had there.

'Oh, d.i.c.k, dear, what shall we do if we find him waiting on the platform?

You'll protect me, won't you? You won't desert me! I couldn't go back to him.'

'Of course not. Let him take you away from me? Not me! If you don't want to live with him any more you've a right to leave him. I'll knock him down if he gives me any of his cheek.'

'You won't do that, will you, dear? Remember how small and weak he is; you'd kill him.'

'That's true, so I would. Well, I'm d.a.m.ned if I know what to do; you'll have to come with me even if he does kick up a row. It'll be deuced unpleasant, and before the whole company too. Don't you think that you could wait a moment in the cab while I have a look round--I won't go far.'

'Oh, I'd be too afraid! Couldn't you ask someone to go for you?'

'I'll see who's there,' said d.i.c.k, twisting his neck to look round the corner. 'By Jove! they're all there--Beaumont, Dolly G.o.ddard. I think I'll ask Montgomery; he's a devilish good chap. We had better stop the cab here and I'll call to him.'

Kate consented, and a moment after the musician's immense nose and scarecrow face was poked in the window.

'Hey, old pal, what is it? Waiting--but--I beg----'

'Never mind that,' said d.i.c.k, laying his hand on the young fellow's arm; 'I want you to do me a favour. Run down on the platform and see if there's a little scraggy man about the height of Dubois hanging about anywhere. You can't mistake him; he has a dirty dark beard that grows on his face like a bunch of gra.s.s, and he's no chest, little thin shoulders, and he'd have on----'

'A pair of grey trousers, and a red woollen comforter round his neck,'

whispered Kate, feeling bitterly ashamed.

'All right,' said Montgomery, 'I'll spot him if he's there. But you know the train goes in ten minutes or less, and Hayes says that he can't take the tickets; you've all the coin.'

'So I have; I forgot to send it round to him last night. Ask him to step up here, there's a good fellow.'

'Now, I bet you Hayes won't be able to get the tickets right. He's perfectly useless, always boozed--nipping, you know.'

Kate did not answer, and an uneasy silence ensued, which was broken at length by the appearance of a hiccuping, long-whiskered man.

'How are you, o-o-old man? Eh! who is--? I don't think I have the pleasure of this lady's acquaintance.'

'Mrs. Ede--Mr. Hayes, our acting manager. Now, look here, Hayes, you go and get the tickets. I can't leave this lady. Thirty-five will do.'

'How thirty-five? We travel forty-one.'

'You know well enough that thirty-five is what we always get. d.a.m.n it, man, make haste!'

'Don't d.a.m.n me. New member of the com-company, eh?'

'I'll tell you all about that after, old man,' said d.i.c.k, leaning forward and pretending to whisper confidentially.

This satisfied the tippler, who, after pulling his silky whiskers and serving Kate to another drunken stare, hurried off, black bag in hand.

'Confounded nuisance to have to deal with a fellow like that; he thinks he's a dab at business, and goes about with the black bag for show.'

Two minutes pa.s.sed, maybe three; it seemed to her an eternity, and then she heard Montgomery's voice crying:

'It's all right, I'm sure.'

'Then get out, dear,' said d.i.c.k, 'we haven't a moment to lose.'

She jumped out, but hadn't walked a dozen yards before she stopped panic-stricken.

'Mrs. Ede--my mother-in-law--perhaps she's there! Oh, d.i.c.k, what shall I do?'

'She isn't there,' Montgomery answered; 'I know her by sight,' and that Montgomery should know her mother-in-law by sight meant to Kate as much as a footprint does to a lost one in a desert. For the sight of the company on the asphalt, and all the luggage, portmanteaux, and huge white baskets labelled 'Morton and c.o.x's Operatic Company,' and the train waiting to carry them away to an unknown destination, made her feel more intensely than ever that she was adrift in a current that would carry her she knew not whither. All these strange people collected together were henceforth her world. She was not unnaturally frightened, but the baggage man especially filled her with alarm, so all-powerful did he seem, rus.h.i.+ng up and down the platform, shouting at the porters, and throwing out bits of information to the ladies of the company as he pa.s.sed them by.

'We shall be off in a minute, dear,' whispered d.i.c.k softly in her ear, 'and then----'