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  Produced by David Widger

  NIGHT WATCHES

  by W.W. Jacobs

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  Mrs. Scutts, concealed behind the curtain, gazed at the cab in uneasyamazement. The cabman clambered down from the box and, opening thedoor, stood by with his hands extended ready for any help that might beneeded. A stranger was the first to alight, and, with his back towardsMrs. Scutts, seemed to be struggling with something in the cab. Heplaced a dangling hand about his neck and, staggering under the weight,reeled backwards supporting Mr. Scutts, whose other arm was round theneck of a third man. In a flash Mrs. Scutts was at the door.

  "Oh, Bill!" she gasped. "And by daylight, too!"

  Mr. Scutts raised his head sharply and his lips parted; then his headsank again, and he became a dead weight in the grasp of his assistants.

  "He's all right," said one of them, turning to Mrs. Scutts.

  A deep groan from Mr. Scutts confirmed the statement.

  "What is it?" inquired his wife, anxiously.

  "Just a little bit of a railway accident," said one of the strangers."Train ran into some empty trucks. Nobody hurt--seriously," he added,in response to a terrible and annoyed groan from Mr. Scutts.

  With his feet dragging helplessly, Mr. Scutts was conveyed over his owndoorstep and placed on the sofa.

  "All the others went off home on their own legs," said one of thestrangers, reproachfully. "He said he couldn't walk, and he wouldn't goto a hospital."

  "Wanted to die at home," declared the sufferer. "I ain't going to becut about at no 'ospitals."

  The two strangers stood by watching him; then they looked at each other.

  I don't want--no--'ospitals," gasped Mr. Scutts, "I'm going to have myown doctor."

  "Of course the company will pay the doctor's bill," said one of thestrangers to Mrs. Scutts or they'll send their own doctor. I expecthe'll be all right to-morrow."

  "I 'ope so," said Mr. Scutts, "but I don't think it. Thank you forbringing of me 'ome."

  He closed his eyes languidly, and kept them closed until the men haddeparted.

  "Can't you walk, Bill?" inquired the tearful Mrs. Scutts.

  Her husband shook his head. "You go and fetch the doctor," he said,slowly. "That new one round the corner."

  "He looks such a boy," objected Mrs. Scutts.

  "You go and fetch 'im," said Mr. Scutts, raising his voice. "D'yehear!"

  "But--" began his wife.

  "If I get up to you, my gal," said the forgetful Mr. Scutts, "you'llknow it."

  "Why, I thought--" said his wife, in surprise.

  Mr. Scutts raised himself on the sofa and shook his fist at her. Then,as a tribute to appearances, he sank back and groaned again. Mrs.Scutts, looking somewhat relieved, took her bonnet from a nail anddeparted.

  The examination was long and tedious, but Mr. Scutts, beyond remarkingthat he felt chilly, made no complaint. He endeavoured, but in vain, toperform the tests suggested, and even did his best to stand, supportedby his medical attendant. Self-preservation is the law of Nature, andwhen Mr. Scutts's legs and back gave way he saw to it that the doctorwas underneath.

  "We'll have to get you up to bed," said the latter, rising slowly anddusting himself.

  Mr. Scutts, who was lying full length on the floor, acquiesced, and senthis wife for some neighbours. One of them was a professional furniture-remover, and, half-way up the narrow stairs, the unfortunate had toremind him that he was dealing with a British working man, and not apiano. Four pairs of hands deposited Mr. Scutts with mathematicalprecision in the centre of the bed and then proceeded to tuck him in,while Mrs. Scutts drew the sheet in a straight line under his chin.

  "Don't look much the matter with 'im," said one of the assistants.

  "You can't tell with a face like that," said the furniture-remover."It's wot you might call a 'appy face. Why, he was 'arf smiling as we,carried 'im up the stairs."

  "You're a liar," said Mr. Scutts, opening his eyes.

  "All right, mate," said the furniture-remover; "all right. There's nocall to get annoyed about it. Good old English pluck, I call it. Whered'you feel the pain?"

  "All over," said Mr. Scutts, briefly.

  His neighbours regarded him with sympathetic eyes, and then, led by thefurniture-remover, filed out of the room on tip-toe. The doctor, with afew parting instructions, also took his departure.

  "If you're not better by the morning," he said, pausing at the door,"you must send for your club doctor."

  Mr. Scutts, in a feeble voice, thanked him, and lay with a twisted smileon his face listening to his wife's vivid narrative to the little crowdwhich had collected at the front door. She came back, followed by thenext-door neighbour, Mr. James Flynn, whose offers of assistance rangedfrom carrying Mr. Scutts out pick-a-back when he wanted to take the air,to filling his pipe for him and fetching his beer.

  "But I dare say you'll be up and about in a couple o' days," heconcluded. "You wouldn't look so well if you'd got anything serious thematter; rosy, fat cheeks and----"

  "That'll do," said the indignant invalid. "It's my back that's hurt,not my face."

  "I know," said Mr. Flynn, nodding sagely; "but if it was hurt bad yourface would be as white as that sheet-whiter."

  "The doctor said as he was to be kep' quiet," remarked Mrs. Scutts,sharply.

  "Right-o," said Mr. Flynn. "Ta-ta, old pal. Keep your pecker up, andif you want your back rubbed with turps, or anything of that sort, justknock on the wall."

  He went, before Mr. Scutts could think of a reply suitable for aninvalid and, at the same time, bristling with virility. A sinful andfoolish desire to leap out of bed and help Mr. Flynn downstairs made himmore rubicund than ever.

  He sent for the club doctor next morning, and, pending his arrival,partook of a basin of arrowroot and drank a little beef-tea. A bottleof castor-oil and an empty pill-box on the table by the bedside added alittle local colour to the scene.

  "Any pain?" inquired the doctor, after an examination in which bony andvery cold fingers had played a prominent part.

  "Not much pain," said Mr. Scutts. "Don't seem to have no strength in myback."

  "Ah!" said the doctor.

  "I tried to get up this morning to go to my work," said Mr. Scutts, "butI can't stand! couldn't get out of bed."

  "Fearfully upset, he was, pore dear," testified Mrs. Scutts. "He can'tbear losing a day. I s'pose--I s'pose the railway company will 'ave todo something if it's serious, won't they, sir?"

  "Nothing to do with me," said the doctor. "I'll put him on the club fora few days; I expect he will be all right soon. He's got a healthycolour--a very healthy colour."

  Mr. Scutts waited until he had left the house and then made a fewremarks on the colour question that for impurity of English and strengthof diction have probably never been surpassed.

  A second visitor that day came after dinner--a tall man in a frock-coat,bearing in his hand a silk hat, which, after a careful survey of theroom, he hung on a knob of the bedpost.

  "Mr. Scutts?" he inquired, bowing.

  "That's me," said Mr. Scutts, in a feeble voice.

  "I've called from the railway company," said the stranger. "We haveseen now all those who left their names and addresses on Mondayafternoon, and I am glad to say that nobody was really hurt. Nobody."

  Mr. Scutts, in a faint voice, said he was glad to hear it.

  "Been a wonder if they had," said the other, cheerfully. "Why, even thepaint wasn't knocked off the engine. The most serious damage appears tobe two top-hats crushed and an umbrella broken."

  He leaned over the bed-rail and laughed joyously. Mr. Scutts, throughhalf-closed eyes, gazed at him in silent reproach.

  "I don't say that one or t
wo people didn't receive a little bit of ashock to their nerves," said the visitor, thoughtfully. "One lady evenstayed in bed next day. However, I made it all right with them. Thecompany is very generous, and although of course there is no legalobligation, they made several of them a present of a few pounds, so thatthey could go away for a little change, or anything of that sort, toquiet their nerves."

  Mr. Scutts, who had been listening with closed eyes, opened