The Battery and the Boiler - Robert Michael Ballantyne (an ebook reader .txt) 📗

was very probable, but that it was no business of his--and then wandered sadly back to tell the Wright family how Gibson, _alias_ Stumps, _alias_ Shunks, had been found and lost.


CHAPTER THIRTY.


THE WRIGHT FAMILY REUNITED, AND SAM BECOMES HIGHLY ELECTRICAL.

That much-abused and oft-neglected meal called tea had always been a scene of great festivity and good-fellowship in the Wright family. Circumstances, uncontrollable of course, had from the beginning necessitated a dinner at one o'clock, so that they assembled round the family board at six each evening, in a hungry and happy frame of body and mind, (which late diners would envy if they understood it), with the prospect of an evening--not bed--before them.

In the earlier years of the family, the meal had been, so to speak, a riotous one, for both Robin and Madge had uncontrollable spirits, with tendencies to drop spoons on the floor, and overturn jugs of milk on the table. Later on, the meal became a jolly one, and, still later, a chatty one--especially after uncle Rik and cousin Sam began to be frequent guests.

But never in all the experience of the family had the favourite meal been so jolly, so prolific of spoony and porcelain accidents, so chatty, and so generally riotous, as it was on a certain evening in June of the year 1870, shortly after the return home of Robin and his companions.

Besides the original Wright family, consisting of father, mother, Robin, and Madge, there were assembled uncle Rik, Sam Shipton, Mrs Langley, Letta, and--no--not Jim Slagg. The circle was unavoidably incomplete, for Jim had a mother, and Jim had said with indignant emphasis, "did they suppose all the teas an' dinners an' suppers, to say nothin' o' breakfasts, an' mess-mates an' chums an' friends, crammed and jammed into one enormous mass temptation, would indooce him to delay his return to that old lady for the smallest fraction of an hour?" No, Jim Slagg was not at the table, but the household cat was under it, and the demoralising attentions that creature received on that occasion went far to undo the careful training of previous years.

The occasion of the gathering was not simple. It was compound. First, it was in commemoration of Robin's birthday; second, it was to celebrate the appointment of Sam Shipton to an influential position on the electrical staff of the Telegraph Construction and Maintenance Company, and Sam's engagement to Marjory Mayland; third, to celebrate the appointment of Robin Wright to a sufficiently lucrative and hopeful post under Sam; and, lastly, to enjoy the passing hour.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said uncle Rik, getting on his feet with some difficulty, when the tea, toast, muffins, eggs, and other fare had blunted the appetites, "I rise to propose the toast of the evening, and mark you, I don't mean to use any butter with this toast," (_Hear_, from Sam), "unless I'm egged on," (_Oh_!), "to do it--so I charge you to charge your cups with tea, since we're not allowed grog in this tee-total ship--though I'm free to confess that I go in with you there, for I've long since given, up the use o' that pernicious though pleasant beverage, takin' it always neat, now, in the form of cold water, varied occasionally with hot tea and coffee. My toast, ladies and gentlemen, is Rob--" (Rik put his hand to his throat to ease off his necktie), "is Robin Wright, whom I've known, off an' on, as a babby, boy, an' man, almost ever since that night--now twenty years ago, more or less--when he was launched upon the sea in thunder, lightning, and in rain. I've known him, I say--ever since--off an' on--and I'm bound to say that--"

The captain paused. He had meant to be funny, but the occasion proved too much for him.

"Bless you, Robin, my lad," he gasped, suddenly stretching his large hand across the table and grasping that of his nephew, which was quickly extended. After shaking it with intense vigour he sat promptly down and blew his nose.

The thunders of applause which burst from Sam and Mr Wright were joined in even by the ladies, who, in the excess of their sympathy, made use of knife-handles and spoons with such manly vigour that several pieces of crockery went "by the board," as the captain himself remarked, and the household cat became positively electrified and negatively mad,-- inasmuch as it was repelled by the horrors around, and denied itself the remaining pleasure of the tea-table by flying wildly from the room.

Of course, Robin attempted a reply, but was equally unsuccessful in expressing his real sentiments, or the true state of his feelings, but uncle Rik came to the rescue by turning sharply on Sam and demanding--

"Do you really mean to tell me, sir, that, after all your experience, you still believe in telegraphs and steamboats?"

Sam promptly asserted that he really did mean that.

"Of course," returned the captain, "you can't help believing in their existence--for facts are facts--but are you so soft, so unphilosophical, so idiotical as to believe in their continuance? That's the point, lad--their continuance. Are you not aware that, in course o' time, rust they must--"

"An' then they'll bu'st," interpolated Robin.

"Hee! hee! ha!" giggled Letta, who, during all this time, had been gazing with sparkling eyes and parted lips, from one speaker to another, utterly forgetful of, and therefore thoroughly enjoying, her own existence.

"Yes, then they'll bu'st," repeated Rik, with an approving nod at Robin; "you're right, my boy, and the sooner they do it the better, for I'm quite sick of their flashings and crashings."

"I rather suspect, Sam," said Mr Wright, "that the gentlemen with whom you dined the other day would not agree with uncle Rik."

"Whom do you refer to, George?" asked Mrs Wright.

"Has he not yet told you of the grand `inaugural fete,' as they call it, that was given at the house of Mr Fender, chairman of the Telegraph Construction and Maintenance Company, to celebrate the opening of direct submarine telegraphic communication with India?"

"Not a word," replied Mrs Wright, looking at Sam.

"You never mentioned it to _me_," said Madge, with a reproachful glance in the same direction.

"Because, Madge, we have been so busy in talking about something else," said Sam, "that I really forgot all about it."

"Do tell us about it now," said Mrs Langley, who, like her daughter, had been listening in silence up to this point.

"A deal o' rubbish was spoken, I daresay," observed the captain, commencing to another muffin, and demanding more tea.

"A deal of something was spoken, at all events," said Sam, "and what is more to the point, an amazing deal was done. Come, before speaking about it, let me propose a toast--Success to Batteries and Boilers!"

"Amen to that!" said Robin, with enthusiasm.

"If they deserve it," said the captain, with caution.

The toast having been drunk with all the honours, Sam began by saying that the fete was a great occasion, and included brilliant company.

"There were present, of course," he said, "nearly all the great electrical and engineering lights of the day, also the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Cambridge, with a lot of aristocrats, whom it is not necessary to mention in the presence of a democratic sea-dog like uncle Rik."

"Don't yaw about to defame me, but keep to your course, Sam."

"Well, you have no idea what an amount of interest and enthusiasm the affair created. You all know, of course, that the Indian cable, which Robin and I had a hand in laying, is now connected with the lines that pass between Suez, Alexandria, Malta, Gibraltar, Lisbon, and England; and the company assembled at Mr Pender's house witnessed the sending of the first messages direct from London to Bombay; and how long, do you think, it took to send the first message, and receive a reply?--only five minutes!"

"You don't mean it, Sam!" exclaimed Rik, getting excited, in spite of his professed unbelief.

"Indeed I do," replied Sam, warming with his subject. "I tell you the sober truth, however difficult it may be for you to believe it. You may see it in the papers of the 24th or 25th, I suppose. Here is my note-book, in which I jotted down the most interesting points.

"The proceedings of the evening were opened by the managing director in London sending a telegram to the manager at Bombay.

"`_How are you all_?' was the brief first telegram by Sir James Anderson. `_All well_,' was the briefer first reply from Bombay. The question fled from London at 9:18 exactly--I had my watch in my hand at the time--and the answer came back at 9:23--just five minutes. I can tell you it was hard to believe that the whole thing was not a practical joke. In fact, the message and reply were almost instantaneous, the five minutes being chiefly occupied in manipulating the instruments at either end. The second message between the same parties occupied the same time. After that Sir Bartle Frere sent a telegram to Sir Seymour Fitzgerald, the Governor of Bombay, as follows:--`_Sir Bartle Frere wishes health and prosperity to all old friends in Bombay_.' This was received by the Company's superintendent at Bombay, and the acknowledgment of its receipt sent back in four minutes and fifty seconds! But the reply from the Governor, `_Your old friend returns your good wishes_,' did not come to us for thirty-six minutes, because the message had to be sent to the Governor's house, and it found his Excellency in bed.

"Next, a message was sent by Lady Mayo in London to Lord Mayo at Simla, which, with the acknowledgment of it, occupied 15 minutes in transmission. Of course time was lost in some cases, because the persons telegraphed to were not on the spot at the moment. The Prince of Wales telegraphed to the Viceroy of India, `_I congratulate your Excellency on England and India being now connected by a submarine cable. I feel assured this grand achievement will prove of immense benefit to the welfare of the Empire. Its success is thus matter_ _of imperial interest_,' which telegram passed out, and the acknowledgment of its receipt in India was returned to London, all within eleven minutes, but, as in the former case, the Viceroy was in bed, so that his reply was not received till forty-five minutes had elapsed. Had the Viceroy been at the Indian end of the wire, he and the Prince could have conversed at an average rate of five minutes a sentence.

"Many other messages were sent to and fro," continued Sam, turning over the leaves of his note-book, "not only from London to India, but to each of the intermediate stations on the cable line, so that we had direct intercourse that night with the King of Portugal, the Governors of Gibraltar, Malta, and Aden, and the Khedive of Egypt. But that was not all. We put the old and the new world into communication, so that the `press of India sent salaam to the press of America.' Sir James Anderson also telegraphed to Cyrus W. Field, Esquire, the father of submarine telegraphy in my estimation," (_Hear, hear_, from Robin), "and he sent a reply, which began, `_Your message of this evening received by me before five o'clock this afternoon_.' Mark that, Captain Rik, the message received _before_ it was sent, so to speak!"

"Ay, ay,