The Boatswain's Mate Read online

burglar;I'm doing this for a friend of yours--Mr. Benn."

  "What?" said an amazed voice.

  "True as I stand here," asseverated Mr. Travers. "Here, here's myinstructions. I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the backwindow you'll see him in the garden waiting."

  He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched from hisfingers. He regained an upright position and stood listening to thestartled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read theboatswain's permit:

  "_This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burglar at Mrs. Waters's. He ain't a burglar, and I shall be outside all the time. It's all above-board and ship-shape.

  "(Signed) George Benn_"

  "Sound mind--above-board--ship-shape," repeated a dazed voice. "Where ishe?"

  "Out at the back," replied Mr. Travers. "If you go to the window you cansee him. Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a goodgirl."

  There was no reply, but a board creaked. He waited for what seemed along time, and then the board creaked again.

  "Did you see him?" he inquired.

  "I did," was the sharp reply. "You both ought to be ashamed ofyourselves. You ought to be punished."

  "There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head," remarked Mr.Travers. "What are you going to do?"

  There was no reply.

  "What are you going to do?" repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat uneasily."You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as I can judgethrough this crack."

  There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody movinghastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily donned.

  "You ought to have done it before," commented the thoughtful Mr. Travers."It's enough to give you your death of cold."

  "Mind your business," said the voice, sharply. "Now, if I let you out,will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?"

  "Honour bright," said Mr. Travers, fervently.

  "I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget," proceeded theother, grimly. "I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down andtell him I've killed you."

  "Eh?" said the amazed Mr. Travers. "Oh, Lord!"

  "H'sh! Stop that laughing," commanded the voice. "He'll hear you. Bequiet!"

  The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped hishand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey. Mrs. Waters, stepping backwith the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.

  "Come on to the landing," said Mr. Travers, eagerly. "We don't wantanybody else to hear. Fire into this."

  He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against thebalusters. "You stay here," said Mrs. Waters. He nodded.

  She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with theexplosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, sherushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, totteredoutside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.

  "Oh! oh! oh!" she cried.

  "What--what's the matter?" gasped the boatswain.

  The widow struggled in his arms. "A burglar," she said, in a tensewhisper. "But it's all right; I've killed him."

  "Kill--" stuttered the other. "Kill----_Killed him?_"

  Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, "First shot," she said, with asatisfied air.

  The boatswain wrung his hands. "Good heavens!" he said, moving slowlytowards the door. "Poor fellow!"

  "Come back," said the widow, tugging at his coat.

  "I was--was going to see--whether I could do anything for 'im," quaveredthe boatswain. "Poor fellow!"

  "You stay where you are," commanded Mrs. Waters. "I don't want anywitnesses. I don't want this house to have a bad name. I'm going tokeep it quiet."

  "Quiet?" said the shaking boatswain. "How?"

  "First thing to do," said the widow, thoughtfully, "is to get rid of thebody. I'll bury him in the garden, I think. There's a very good bit ofground behind those potatoes. You'll find the spade in the tool-house."

  The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.

  "While you're digging the grave," continued Mrs. 'Waters, calmly, "I'llgo in and clean up the mess."

  The boatswain reeled and then fumbled with trembling fingers at hiscollar.

  Like a man in a dream he stood watching as she ran to the tool-house andreturned with a spade and pick; like a man in a dream he followed her onto the garden.

  "Be careful," she said, sharply; "you're treading down my potatoes."

  The boatswain stopped dead and stared at her. Apparently unconscious ofhis gaze, she began to pace out the measurements and then, placing thetools in his hands, urged him to lose no time.

  "I'll bring him down when you're gone," she said, looking towards thehouse.

  The boatswain wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand. "How areyou going to get it downstairs?" he breathed.

  "Drag it," said Mrs. Waters, briefly.

  "Suppose he isn't dead?" said the boat-swain, with a gleam of hope.

  "Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Waters. "Do you think I don't know? Now,don't waste time talking; and mind you dig it deep. I'll put a fewcabbages on top afterwards--I've got more than I want."

  She re-entered the house and ran lightly upstairs. The candle was stillalight and the gun was leaning against the bed-post; but the visitor haddisappeared. Conscious of an odd feeling of disappointment, she lookedround the empty room.

  "Come and look at him," entreated a voice, and she turned and beheld theamused countenance of her late prisoner at the door.

  "I've been watching from the back window," he said, nodding. "You're awonder; that's what you are. Come and look at him."

  Mrs. Waters followed, and leaning out of the window watched with simplepleasure the efforts of the amateur sexton. Mr. Benn was digging likeone possessed, only pausing at intervals to straighten his back and tocast a fearsome glance around him. The only thing that marred herpleasure was the behaviour of Mr. Travers, who was struggling for a placewith all the fervour of a citizen at the Lord Mayor's show.

  "Get back," she said, in a fierce whisper. "He'll see you."

  Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim looked up.

  "Is that you, Mrs. Waters?" inquired the boatswain, fearfully.

  "Yes, of course it is," snapped the widow. "Who else should it be, doyou think? Go on! What are you stopping for?"

  Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctly audible.The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside the widow's.For a long time they watched in silence.

  "Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?" called the boatswain, looking upso suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully against the side ofthe window. "It's a bit creepy, all alone."

  "I'm all right," said Mrs. Waters.

  "I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant bushes,"pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely. "How you can stay therealone I can't think. I thought I saw something looking over yourshoulder just now. Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught holdof you! The widow gave a sudden faint scream.

  "If you do that again" she said, turning fiercely on Mr. Travers.

  "He put it into my head," said the culprit, humbly; "I should never havethought of such a thing by myself. I'm one of the quietest andbest-behaved----"

  "Make haste, Mr. Benn," said the widow, turning to the window again;"I've got a lot to do when you've finished."

  The boatswain groaned and fell to digging again, and Mrs. Waters, afterwatching a little while longer, gave Mr. Travers some pointedinstructions about the window and went down to the garden again.

  "That will do, I think," she said, stepping into the hole and regardingit critically. "Now you'd better go straight off home, and, mind, not aword to a soul about this."

  She put her hand on his shoulder, and noticing with pleasure t
hat heshuddered at her touch led the way to the gate. The boat-swain pausedfor a moment, as though about to speak, and then, apparently thinkingbetter of it, bade her good-bye in a hoarse voice and walked feebly upthe road. Mrs. Waters stood watching until his steps died away in thedistance, and then, returning to the