Dusty Diamonds Cut and Polished - Robert Michael Ballantyne (best ebook reader txt) 📗

ensued!--to see a woman, forgetful of sex and everything else, striving with all her might to bite, scratch, and kick, while her hair tumbled down, and her bonnet and shawl falling off made more apparent the insufficiency of the rags with which she was covered.

Strong as he was, Giles received several ugly scratches and bites before he could effectually restrain her. Fortunately, there were no passers-by in the quiet street, and, therefore, no crowd assembled.

"My poor woman," said Giles, when he had her fast, "do keep quiet. I'm going to do you no harm. God help you, I was goin' to give you a copper when you flew at me so. Come, you'd better go with me to the station, for you're not fit to take care of yourself."

Whether it was the tender tone of Giles's voice, or the words that he uttered, or the strength of his grasp that subdued Mrs Frog, we cannot tell, but she gave in suddenly, hung down her head, and allowed her captor to do as he pleased. Seeing this, he carefully replaced her bonnet on her head, drew the old shawl quite tenderly over her shoulders, and led her gently away.

Before they had got the length of the main thoroughfare, however, a female of a quiet, respectable appearance met them.

"Mrs Frog!" she exclaimed, in amazement, stopping suddenly before them.

"If you know her, ma'am, perhaps you may direct me to her home."

"I know her well," said the female, who was none other than the Bible-nurse who visited the sick of that district; "if you have not arrested her for--for--"

"Oh no, madam," interrupted Giles, "I have not arrested her at all, but she seems to be unwell, and I was merely assisting her."

"Oh! then give her over to me, please. I know where she lives, and will take care of her."

Giles politely handed his charge over, and went on his way, sincerely hoping that the next to demand his care would be a man.

The Bible-woman drew the arm of poor Mrs Frog through her own, and in a few minutes stood beside her in the desolate home.

"Nobody cares," muttered the wretched woman as she sank in apathy on her stool and leaned her head against the wall.

"You are wrong, dear Mrs Frog. _I_ care, for one, else I should not be here. Many other Christian people would care, too, if they knew of your sufferings; but, above all, God cares. Have you carried your troubles to Him?"

"Why should I? He has long ago forsaken me."

"Is it not, dear friend, that you have forsaken Him? Jesus says, as plain as words can put it, `Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' You tell me it is of no use to go to Him, and you don't go, and then you complain that He has forsaken you! Where is my friend Hetty?"

"In hospital."

"Indeed! I have been here several times lately to inquire, but have always found your door locked. Your husband--"

"He's in prison, and Bobby's gone to the bad," said Mrs Frog, still in a tone of sulky defiance.

"I see no sign of food," said the Bible-nurse, glancing quickly round; "are you hungry?"

"Hungry!" exclaimed the woman fiercely, "I've tasted nothin' at all since yesterday."

"Poor thing!" said the Bible-nurse in a low tone; "come--come with me. I don't say more. You cannot speak while you are famishing. Stay, first one word--" She paused and looked up. She did not kneel; she did not clasp her hands or shut her eyes, but, with one hand on the door-latch, and the other grasping the poor woman's wrist, she prayed--

"God bless and comfort poor Mrs Frog, for Jesus' sake."

Then she hurried, without uttering a word, to the Institution in George Yard. The door happened to be open, and the figure of a man with white hair and a kind face was seen within.

Entering, the Bible-nurse whispered to this man. Another moment and Mrs Frog was seated at a long deal table with a comfortable fire at her back, a basin of warm soup, and a lump of loaf bread before her. The Bible-nurse sat by and looked on.

"Somebody cares a little, don't _you_ think?" she whispered, when the starving woman made a brief pause for breath.

"Yes, thank God," answered Mrs Frog, returning to the meal as though she feared that some one might still snatch it from her thin lips before she got it all down.

When it was finished the Bible-nurse led Mrs Frog into another room.

"You feel better--stronger?" she asked.

"Yes, much better--thank you, and quite able to go home."

"There is no occasion for you to go home to-night; you may sleep there," (pointing to a corner), "but I would like to pray with you now, and read a verse or two."

Mrs Frog submitted, while her friend read to her words of comfort; pleaded that pardon and deliverance might be extended, and gave her loving words of counsel. Then the poor creature lay down in her corner, drew a warm blanket over her, and slept with a degree of comfort that she had not enjoyed for many a day.

When it was said by Mrs Frog that her son Bobby had gone to the bad, it must not be supposed that any very serious change had come over him. As that little waif had once said of himself, when in a penitent mood, he was about as bad as he could be, so couldn't grow much badder. But when his sister lost her situation in the firm that paid her such splendid wages, and fell ill, and went into hospital in consequence, he lost heart, and had a relapse of wickedness. He grew savage with regard to life in general, and committed a petty theft, which, although not discovered, necessitated his absence from home for a time. It was while he was away that the scene which we have just described took place.

On the very next day he returned, and it so happened that on the same day Hetty was discharged from hospital "cured." That is to say, she left the place a thin, tottering, pallid shadow, but with no particular form of organic disease about her.

She and her mother had received some food from one who cared for them, through the Bible-nurse.

"Mother, you've been drinkin' again," said Hetty, looking earnestly at her parent's eyes.

"Well, dear," pleaded Mrs Frog, "what could I do? You had all forsaken me, and I had nothin' else to comfort me."

"Oh! mother, darling mother," cried Hetty, "do promise me that you will give it up. I won't get ill or leave you again--God helping me; but it will kill me if you go on. _Do_ promise."

"It's of no use, Hetty. Of course I can easily promise, but I can't keep my promise. I _know_ I can't."

Hetty knew this to be too true. Without the grace of God in the heart, she was well aware that human efforts _must_ fail, sooner or later. She was thinking what to reply, and praying in her heart for guidance, when the door opened and her brother Bobby swaggered in with an air that did not quite accord with his filthy fluttering rags, unwashed face and hands, bare feet and unkempt hair.

"Vell, mother, 'ow are ye? Hallo! Hetty! w'y, wot a shadder you've become! Oh! I say, them nusses at the hospital must 'ave stole all your flesh an' blood from you, for they've left nothin' but the bones and skin."

He went up to his sister, put an arm round her neck, and kissed her. This was a very unusual display of affection. It was the first time Bobby had volunteered an embrace, though he had often submitted to one with dignified complacency, and Hetty, being weak, burst into tears.

"Hallo! I say, stop that now, young gal," he said, with a look of alarm, "I'm always took bad ven I see that sort o' thing, I can't stand it."

By way of mending matters the poor girl, endeavouring to be agreeable, gave a hysterical laugh.

"Come, that's better, though it ain't much to boast of,"--and he kissed her again.

Finding that, although for the present they were supplied with a small amount of food, Hetty had no employment and his mother no money, our city Arab said that he would undertake to sustain the family.

"But oh! Bobby, dear, don't steal again."

"No, Hetty, I won't, I'll vork. I didn't go for to do it a-purpose, but I was overtook some'ow--I seed the umbrellar standin' handy, you know, and--etceterer. But I'm sorry I did it, an' I won't do it again."

Swelling with great intentions, Robert Frog thrust his dirty little hands into his trouser pockets--at least into the holes that once contained them--and went out whistling.

Soon he came to a large warehouse, where a portly gentleman stood at the door. Planting himself in front of this man, and ceasing to whistle in order that he might speak, he said:--

"Was you in want of a 'and, sir?"

"No, I wasn't," replied the man, with a glance of contempt.

"Sorry for that," returned Bobby, "'cause I'm in want of a sitivation."

"What can you do?" asked the man.

"Oh! hanythink."

"Ah, I thought so; I don't want hands who can do anything, I prefer those who can do something."

Bobby Frog resumed his whistling, at the exact bar where he had left off, and went on his way. He was used to rebuffs, and didn't mind them. But when he had spent all the forenoon in receiving rebuffs, had made no progress whatever in his efforts, and began to feel hungry, he ceased the whistling and became grave.

"This looks serious," he said, pausing in front of a pastry-cook's shop window. "But for that there plate glass _wot_ a blow hout I might 'ave! Beggin' might be tried with advantage. It's agin the law, no doubt, but it ain't a _sin_. Yes, I'll try beggin'."

But our Arab was not a natural beggar, if we may say so. He scorned to whine, and did not even like to ask. His spirit was much more like that of a highwayman than a beggar.

Proceeding to a quiet neighbourhood which seemed to have been forgotten by the police, he turned down a narrow lane and looked out for a subject, as a privateer might search among "narrows" for a prize. He did not search long. An old lady soon hove in sight. She seemed a suitable old lady, well-dressed, little, gentle, white-haired, a tottering gait, and a benign aspect.

Bobby went straight up and planted himself in front of her.

"Please, ma'am, will you oblige me with a copper?"

The poor old lady grew pale. Without a word she tremblingly, yet quickly, pulled out her purse, took therefrom a shilling, and offered it to the boy.

"Oh! marm," said Bobby, who was alarmed and conscience-smitten at the result of his scheme, "I didn't mean for to frighten you. Indeed I didn't, an' I