The Missing Link Part 4

King Henry interposed, he put a restraining hand on Nickie, and spoke soothingly to him and Nickie the Kid promptly knocked the poor monarch on the head. Then rude hands seized Nickie: he was rushed from the house; he was rushed down the path, and hurled into the street.

When all the guests had left the white mansion at Banklands, and daylight was streaming in, a weary man-servant interviewed the master of "Whitecliff."

"Please, sir," he said; "the--eh--gentleman who was thrown out last night."

"Well, what of him?" asked the host, disgustedly.

"He's sleeping in the garden, sir."

The host went out. He found Nickie the Kid sleeping in the Pansy bed, and Nickie was pulled to his feet.

"Nicholas!" he gasped.

"That'sh me, Willie," answered Nicholas Crips.

"You blackguard, you intrude into my house and insult my guests, and you promised when I gave you that last 10 never to interfere with me again."

"Now Willie, Little Willie," said Nickie, "when did I ever keep my promises?"

"Leave my grounds or I'll give you over to the police!"

"Chertainly," said Nickie. "Chertainly, I'll leave the grounds. There's always room for me outside."

He took the skirt off his coat, heavy with the contributions of the guests, in his hand, and strolled joyously through the gate.

"Ta-ta," he said. "Good-bye, Billy, dear ole Billy, dear, old, fat-headed, b.u.mptious Billy!"

Feeling like a king, Nickie the Kid pa.s.sed down the road, and the morning sun glittered on the emblem on his breast. He was still sustaining the character.

CHAPTER IV.

A TEMPORARY REFORMATION.

NICKIE the Kid presented himself at the front door of a decorous villa in an intensely respectable suburb, with sad story. Mr. Crips did not address the lady as an unblus.h.i.+ng mendicant, he spoke as a man of some refinement and keen sensibility, whose bitter complaint was literally dragged from him by adverse circ.u.mstances.

The lady was touched--her eye moistened.

"That is really very sad," she said. "Come right in, my poor man. You must tell your story to my James. James will know how to help you."

Nickie followed the lady without the smallest compunction. She knocked quietly at the door of a room and admitted Nicholas to a small apartment fitted up like a study. At a table near the window a grave young man was seated with writing materials before him.

"Well, mater" he said, "whom have we here? Another of your proteges?"

"I want you to listen to this poor fellow, James," said the lady, "his story will touch you as it has touched me. My poor man, this is my son, the Rev. James Nippit."

Nickie bowed with a grace that did not belong to his tramp's garments and his insanitary and unshaven state.

"Thank G.o.d. I have met you, sir," he said, in the voice of a strong man whose sorrows have about broken his proud spirit, "if your heart is as gentle as that of this sweet lady."

The lady withdrew, and the Rev. James Nippit, who had been eyeing Mr.

Crips keenly, motioned hit to a chair.

"Be seated," he said, "and tell me your story."

"I am the only son of the Rev. Arthur Crips, of Bolton, Lancas.h.i.+re, England," said Nickie. "My father held a good living. He intended to make a doctor of me. He brought me up always with that intention, lavished much money on me, and from the time I was fourteen I understood I was to live the life of a gentleman. Before my education was completed my father died, and I found that he had been led into speculation and we were ruined. Not only ruined, but disgraced. The shock killed my mother. I came to Australia. Unwittingly, without a chance of saving myself, I sank and drifted till I found myself a mere tramp. For years I have been a tattered, unclean, despised outcast. Yesterday I heard you preach; I was outside under a window too despicable a creature to enter among you trim flock. Your sermon reminded me of what I was, showed me to myself, made the future horribly real to me. I was inspired to fight, to try and work myself out of the slough into which I have drifted, and I have come to you for help. I am here." Nickie the Kid opened his arms with a dramatic gesture--his face was very sad.

"Liar!" said the young clergyman looking Nickie straight in the eye.

"Liar!" he repeated.

Nickie looked back into the eye of the clergyman. His face betrayed no amazement. For a moment it was grave, almost reproachful, and then it relaxed into a broad grin. The device had failed--there was no further occasion for subterfuge.

"Well," Mr. Crips admitted, "I don't pretend to be a George Was.h.i.+ngton. I may have been betrayed into errors of detail."

"It is as well you admit it," said the Rev. Nippit. "Because I did not preach yesterday."

"Very remiss of you," said Mr. Crips.

"And, furthermore, I remember you well. Two years ago I was on a charity committee that inquired into your case. You were then the son of a Queensland Judge, reduced to poverty by wild living, but anxious to return to respectable courses."

Nickie grinned again, and took up his hat. "It is as you say." he said, "a truly delicious morning for a stroll. I think I'll go and watch the gra.s.s grow. Good-day, Mr. Nippit."

The young clergyman arose and interposed between Nickie and the door.

"You will stay where you are," he said. "Sit down."

Nickie sat down. He placed his hat very carefully on the carpet, folded his arms, and crossed his legs. "You are very kind," he said. "May I ask if a compulsory lunch goes with this unwarrantable detention?"

"That remains to be seen," replied James. "I am going to offer you your choice of two courses. You will either submit yourself to my deliberate intention of making a good, clean, respectable, industrious member of society of you, or you will walk out of this place into gaol."

Nickie's mind was made up instantly, but he did not capitulate in too great a hurry; he talked of conditions, and asked for details of his expected regeneration. The Rev. Nippit explained his belief that all men had in them the elements of decency, order and religion. Those elements only needed proper opportunities for development. He purposed giving Nickie the opportunities. He needed a handy man about the house; Nickie was to have the job. He would be expected to bathe every day, to shave every day, and observe the decencies of the well-ordered home.

"And you are prepared to believe you can reform me?" said Nickie the Kid.

"I am not only prepared to believe it--I am determined to believe it,"

said the young clergyman, thumping the table.

Nickie smiled again. "I submit myself to the experiment" he said, "but promise nothing. I don't think you will succeed. Your intentions are good, but mine are not, and it takes two to make a bargain."

Nickie entered his new duties at once. After lunch he took a shovel into the garden and toyed with the earth a while, and then he went to sleep under a tree. The Rev. Nippit awakened him and talked with him in a firm but kindly spirit on the virtues of honest dealings with one's employer, and the necessity of industry to keep the world wagging, Nickie'

graciously admitted that it was all very true. But when set to clean out the fowl-house he sat on a stone and held converse with an educated c.o.c.katoo next door.

That evening, clean-shaven, freshly-bathed, dressed in a cast-off suit of James Nippit's, whole if slightly rusty, and robbed of its clerical significance, Nickie the Kid attended a religions function with his reverend employer. Nickie was orderly, wakeful and fairly attentive. When the plate came round he put threepence in, but he took a s.h.i.+lling out. It was a useful trick, taught him by an expert in the art of rigging the thimble and the pea. Nickie, when he had fairly good clothes, often attended church merely to practise it. To-night the exploit was more an act of unseemly and impious levity than a crime.

The Rev. Nippit had a theory which he believed would succeed with nine malefactors out of ten if exerted under fair conditions it was based on kindness, forebearance and the inculcation of excellent precepts.

It is distressing to have to report that Nickie took few pains to encourage his preceptor. He was lazy, he sometimes forgot to shave, he often forgot to bath, he was not always temperate; but the Rev. James bore it all with unconquerable patience. If Nickie was lazy, he talked with him like a brother of the twin virtues, industry and thrift; if he were unwashed, he explained to him that cleanliness was next to G.o.dliness: if he seemed to, have gazed too, long upon the wine when it was red, or the beer when it foamed in the bowl, the clergyman pointed out the advantage of strict sobriety, and earnestly besought Nicholas Crips to strive for higher things and the true light.