The Castaway Read online

it," she said, primly, "but I 'avemy own ideas."

  "I dessay," said Mr. Boxer; "but you're afraid for us to go to your oldfortune-teller. It would be too much of a show-up for 'im."

  "It's no good your trying to aggravate me, John Boxer, because you can'tdo it," said Mrs. Gimpson, in a voice trembling with passion.

  "O' course, if people like being deceived they must be," said Mr. Boxer;"we've all got to live, and if we'd all got our common sense fortune-tellers couldn't. Does he tell fortunes by tea-leaves or by the colourof your eyes?"

  "Laugh away, John Boxer," said Mrs. Gimpson, icily; "but I shouldn't havebeen alive now if it hadn't ha' been for Mr. Silver's warnings."

  "Mother stayed in bed for the first ten days in July," explained Mrs.Boxer, "to avoid being bit by a mad dog."

  "Tchee--tchee--tchee," said the hapless Mr. Boxer, putting his hand overhis mouth and making noble efforts to restrain himself; "tchee--tch

  "I s'pose you'd ha' laughed more if I 'ad been bit?" said the glaringMrs. Gimpson.

  "Well, who did the dog bite after all?" inquired Mr. Boxer, recovering.

  "You don't understand," replied Mrs. Gimpson, pityingly; "me being safeup in bed and the door locked, there was no mad dog. There was no usefor it."

  "Well," said Mr. Boxer, "me and Mary's going round to see that olddeceiver after supper, whether you come or not. Mary shall tell 'im I'ma friend, and ask him to tell her everything about 'er husband. Nobodyknows me here, and Mary and me'll be affectionate like, and give 'im tounderstand we want to marry. Then he won't mind making mischief."

  "You'd better leave well alone," said Mrs. Gimpson.

  Mr. Boxer shook his head. "I was always one for a bit o' fun," he said,slowly. "I want to see his face when he finds out who I am."

  Mrs. Gimpson made no reply; she was looking round for the market-basket,and having found it she left the reunited couple to keep house while shewent out to obtain a supper which should, in her daughter's eyes, beworthy of the occasion.

  She went to the High Street first and made her purchases, and was on theway back again when, in response to a sudden impulse, as she passed theend of Crowner's Alley, she turned into that small by-way and knocked atthe astrologer's door.

  A slow, dragging footstep was heard approaching in reply to the summons,and the astrologer, recognising his visitor as one of his most faithfuland credulous clients, invited her to step inside. Mrs. Gimpsoncomplied, and, taking a chair, gazed at the venerable white beard andsmall, red-rimmed eyes of her host in some perplexity as to how to begin.

  "My daughter's coming round to see you presently," she said, at last.

  The astrologer nodded.

  "She--she wants to ask you about 'er husband," faltered' Mrs. Gimpson;"she's going to bring a friend with her--a man who doesn't believe inyour knowledge. He--he knows all about my daughter's husband, and hewants to see what you say you know about him."

  The old man put on a pair of huge horn spectacles and eyed her carefully.

  "You've got something on your mind," he said, at last; "you'd better tellme everything."

  Mrs. Gimpson shook her head.

  "There's some danger hanging over you," continued Mr. Silver, in a low,thrilling voice; "some danger in connection with your son-in-law. There"he waved a lean, shrivelled hand backward and for-ward as thoughdispelling a fog, and peered into distance--"there is something formingover you. You--or somebody--are hiding something from me."

  "There is something forming over you."]

  Mrs. Gimpson, aghast at such omniscience, sank backward in her chair.

  "Speak," said the old man, gently; "there is no reason why you should besacrificed for others."

  Mrs. Gimpson was of the same opinion, and in some haste she reeled offthe events of the evening. She had a good memory, and no detail waslost.

  "Strange, strange," said the venerable Mr. Silver, when he had finished."He is an ingenious man."

  "Isn't it true?" inquired his listener. "He says he can prove it. Andhe is going to find out what you meant by saying you were afraid ofmaking mischief."

  "He can prove some of it," said the old man, his eyes snappingspitefully. "I can guarantee that."

  "But it wouldn't have made mischief if you had told us that," venturedMrs. Gimpson. "A man can't help being cast away."

  "True," said the astrologer, slowly; "true. But let them come andquestion me; and whatever you do, for your own sake don't let a soul knowthat you have been here. If you do, the danger to yourself will be soterrible that even I may be unable to help you."

  Mrs. Gimpson shivered, and more than ever impressed by his marvellouspowers made her way slowly home, where she found the unconscious Mr.Boxer relating his adventures again with much gusto to a married couplefrom next door.

  "It's a wonder he's alive," said Mr. Jem Thompson, looking up as the oldwoman entered the room; "it sounds like a story-book. Show us that cuton your head again, mate."

  The obliging Mr. Boxer complied.

  "We're going on with 'em after they've 'ad sup-per," continued Mr.Thompson, as he and his wife rose to depart. "It'll be a fair treat tome to see old Silver bowled out."

  Mrs. Gimpson sniffed and eyed his retreating figure disparagingly; Mrs.Boxer, prompted by her husband, began to set the table for supper.

  It was a lengthy meal, owing principally to Mr. Boxer, but it was over atlast, and after that gentleman had assisted in shutting up the shop theyjoined the Thompsons, who were waiting outside, and set off for Crowner'sAlley. The way was enlivened by Mr. Boxer, who had thrills of horrorevery ten yards at the idea of the supernatural things he was about towitness, and by Mr. Thompson, who, not to be outdone, persisted instanding stock-still at frequent intervals until he had received theassurances of his giggling better-half that he would not be made tovanish in a cloud of smoke.

  By the time they reached Mr. Silver's abode the party had regained itsdecorum, and, except for a tremendous shudder on the part of Mr. Boxer ashis gaze fell on a couple of skulls which decorated the magician's table,their behaviour left nothing to be desired. Mrs. Gimpson, in a fewawkward words, announced the occasion of their visit. Mr. Boxer sheintroduced as a friend of the family from London.

  "I will do what I can," said the old man, slowly, as his visitors seatedthemselves, "but I can only tell you what I see. If I do not see all, orsee clearly, it cannot be helped."

  Mr. Boxer winked at Mr. Thompson, and received an understanding pinch inreturn; Mrs. Thompson in a hot whisper told them to behave themselves.

  The mystic preparations were soon complete. A little cloud of smoke,through which the fierce red eyes of the astrologer peered keenly at Mr.Boxer, rose from the table. Then he poured various liquids into a smallchina bowl and, holding up his hand to command silence, gazed steadfastlyinto it. "I see pictures," he announced, in a deep voice. "The docks ofa great city; London. I see an ill-shaped man with a bent left legstanding on the deck of a ship."

  Mr. Thompson, his eyes wide open with surprise, jerked Mr. Boxer in theribs, but Mr. Boxer, whose figure was a sore point with him, made noresponse.

  "The ship leaves the docks," continued Mr. Silver, still peering into thebowl. "As she passes through the entrance her stern comes into view withthe name painted on it. The--the--the----"

  "Look agin, old chap," growled Mr. Boxer, in an undertone.

  "The North Star," said the astrologer. "The ill-shaped man is stillstanding on the fore-part of the ship; I do not know his name or who heis. He takes the portrait of a beautiful young woman from his pocket andgazes at it earnestly."

  Mrs. Boxer, who had no illusions on the subject of her personalappearance, sat up as though she had been stung; Mr. Thompson, who wasabout to nudge Mr. Boxer in the ribs again, thought better of it andassumed an air of uncompromising virtue.

  "The picture disappears," said Mr. Silver. "Ah! I see; I see. A shipin a gale at sea. It is the North Star; it is sinking. The ill-shapedman sheds tears and loses
his head. I cannot discover the name of thisman."

  Mr. Boxer, who had been several times on the point of interrupting,cleared his throat and endeavoured to look unconcerned.

  "The ship sinks," continued the astrologer, in thrilling tones. "Ah!what is this? a piece of wreck-age with a monkey clinging to it? No,no-o. The ill-shaped man again. Dear me!"

  "Ah! what is this? a