 | CHAPTER VIII. Bankrupt stories |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
RELATES AN ACCIDENT WHICH ALMOST BRINGS THIS HISTORY
TO A CONCLUSION.
ALTHOUGH Mr. Tuck loved money for its own sake,
and hoarded it up for no other purpose than to see how
much he could die possessed of, and was of course extremely
parsimonious, yet he was not entirely destitute of human feelings;
and if he was never generous he was always very exact
in performing a promise. His younger brother had died a few
years before the commencement of this history and having
left but slender means for the support of his widow and three
children, Mr. Tuck had, perhaps in an unguarded moment
when the sluices of his heart were forced open by a flood of
grief, promised to educate the children at his own expense,
and he had continued to do so, but by way of a set off, perhaps
to check any undue expectations in their mother, he manifested
not the least regard for them in any other manner.
When Mr. Tremlett related to him the terrific meeting at
the house of Mr. Bates, and told him of the embarrassment he
laboured under in respect to a tutor for his son, Mr. Tuck
advised him to send the boy to the same school where he had
placed his nephews; and it being in the immediate neighborhood
of Mr. Tremlett's house, he determined to do so, and the
boy was accordingly put under the charge of the Rev. Doctor
Hodges who found him quick to learn, extremely docile, and
although not wanting in spirit, yet gentle and affectionate in
his manners. Being beautiful in his person and presumptive
that the school-master conceived a great liking for his new
pupil, and that he took great pains in teaching him, and great
pride in his advancement. Under the tutelage of the good
doctor, the boy soon learned a good deal of Latin and something
about fluxions and decimal fractions; but under the tutelage
of the two young Tucks he learned a good many things which
boys generally learn at school, but for which no extra charge
is made in the bill, although they have to be paid for at a dear
rate in some other shape. In those days young ladies' seminaries
and female colleges were not as common as they are at
the present enlightened period of the world, and little girls
generally received the rudiments of their education under the
same roofs with little boys; it was the case in the present instance
and little Julia Tuck was always accompanied to school
by one or both of her brothers. She was about the same age
as John Tremlett, but her brothers were both older, and the
first time that she saw him she showed a decided preference
for him, and she would persist in calling him her beau, notwithstanding
her mother punished her for it. And although
he joined in all her hilarious frolics, yet he did not manifest
that liking for her that she did for him. But they were
only children and the attachments of children are seldom lasting:
they easily accommodate themselves to the company of
whatever companions chance throws in their way, and as
easily forget them when separated; they are seldom capricious
in their tastes, and rarely show decided preferences. But
sometimes attachments formed in early childhood continue
through life, because the same sympathies would have attracted
the same individuals at any period of their existence.
Julia Tuck was by no means a beautiful child: she had a
dark complexion, and regular features; her hair was black
and luxuriant, but her forehead was low, and her figure
slight; there was a peculiar charm in her voice, and she always
appeared joyous and happy, and was somewhat of a
were opposed, she showed a stubborness of purpose uncommon
in a girl of her years. Her brothers, Tom and Fred
could both boast of more personal beauty than their sister.
Tom Tuck was a forward boy; he was a favorite both with
his mother and teacher, and indeed with all elderly people
who knew him; and although he was known among the boys
to be the greatest rogue in the school, he always contrived to
escape punishment, and was very rarely found out in any of
his misdoings. Fred Tuck was the youngest of the brothers,
and although not a whit more virtuous than Tom, yet he had
such an innocent manner, that nobody ever believed him to
be intentionally guilty whenever he was detected in any mischief
that he undertook, and he was always sure to be found
out, let him do what he would. He was forever poring
over a book, but it never happened to be the one that
contained his lesson. If Robinson Crusoe and Rinaldo Rinaldini
had been elementary works in the Rev. Mr. Hodges'
school, there can be no doubt that Fred Tuck would have
been the best scholar in it; but as they were not, he was perhaps
the very worst. He was very fond of history; that is,
the history of impossible personages and improbable events;
and he would sit in his mother's kitchen, of a winter's evening,
and listen to the tales of rebellions and fairies, related by
an old Irish servant, until the purring of the cat would make
him start with fear, and he would not have looked behind him
for all the world. He was a comely boy; he had a fair round
face and a clear complexion, light blue eyes, and soft curly
hair. These two boys took young Tremlett under their protection
as soon as he made his appearance at school. Whether
it was that they took compassion on his lone condition, or
that they discovered he had more money to spend than themselves,
does not appear; but they would not allow anybody
else to be intimate with him; and whenever there was a fight
which was once a day at least, the three boys were sure to be
mother of these children declared hostilities against him as
soon as she heard of him. She not only would not allow
him to enter her house, but she commanded her children not
to speak to him. Perhaps it was some excuse for Mrs. Tuck,
that she came from a very good family, and like all descendants
of good families, she held in utter scorn everybody that
was base-born or vulgar, unless they were rich; the genuine
aristocratic principle being, that wealth can atone for the want
of birth and talents, or that birth can atone for both, but that
talents cannot atone for the want of either. Children, however,
are not apt to be aristocratic in their ideas; and as the
young Tucks coud not enter into their mother's feelings, they
did not pay the least regard to her commands, but continued
to cultivate a very good understanding with their companion.
It was almost a year since he had been at school; he had
made great improvement, and all effects of his early associations
had disappeared. He was the pet and the darling of a
little circle, where there was no one to contend with him for
empire in the hearts of those who loved him. Mrs. Swazey,
from at first appearing to love him, had got to loving him in
reality, and Mr. Tremlett every day discovered some fresh
cause for admiration. He had become essential to the old
man's happiness, and he began to feel that life would be a
burden without him. But an event soon occurred which for
a time threatened to sever all those ties which had become so
closely drawn together, and to deprive the fond old merchant
of his chief solace and source of pleasure, and to drive his son
into the world again, to encounter all its trials and privations.
It was on the occason of some great gathering on the Battery,
when all the idle people of the great city of New York
appeared to have been attracted by a common sympathy to
that beautiful spot, that the two Tucks, in company with their
companion, made their appearance among the crowd, and by
their shouts helped to increase the hubbub and confusion.
than these three young gentlemen, and who probably
attracted more attention at the time; but as we believe
there were none there for whom the reader will feel a greater
interest.
Whether it was the arrival of some great man, or the execution
of some great rogue, that caused the gathering, is not
material to the right understanding of this history; but it was
a gay and exhilarating scene. The day was warm, yet not
oppressive; and a timely shower in the morning had washed
the dust from the trees, and given to the grass on the Battery,
and the opposite shores of New-Jersey and Governor's Island,
an appearance of verdant beauty. The bay was covered
with boats, which were moving about in all directions, with
gay pennons flying, and from some strains of martial music
proceeded, and from others, the reports of fire-arms. On shore
crowds of elegantly-dressed women were jostled by crowds
of badly-dressed men; and nurses were out-screaming the interesting
little creatures placed under their protection; while
numerous companies of citizen soldiery were performing evolutions
that Napoleon never dreamed of, to the immense delight
of innumerable little black boys, who were perched on the over
hanging branches of the elms and sycamores; and sentinels,
as fierce as regimentals could render them, were repelling the
invasion of any stray cow or old apple-woman that might
chance to encroach upon the district placed for the time under
martial law. Bands of music were playing, and guns were
popping off in every direction. Every body seemed resolutely
bent upon making a noise, and our three young gentlemen
had every disposition to increase the tumult, by letting off a
few squibs and crackers; but on examining their pockets,
they discovered that they could not muster a sixpence between
them. It chanced unluckily, that Mr. Tremlett was out of
town, and John could think of no way to procure some
money. Tom Tuck tried to persuade him to pawn his watch
called Mr. Tremlett,) had given it to him but a few days before.
He said he would not part with it to procure himself
bread, much less squibs. While they were trying to hit upon
some plan for raising the necessary funds for a frolic, their
mortification was increased, and their desires were excited, by
a party of youngsters of their acquaintance, who rowed past
in a boat, with a horse pistol and a flask of powder. At last
Fred Tuck said he knew where his mother kept her purse,
and he promised, if the two would wait for him, to go and
bring it. Accordingly he started off, and his brother Tom
and his companion indulged themselves during his absence
with a couple of hard boiled eggs, and a bottle of ginger-beer,
meaning to pay for them as soon as the adventurer returned
But that enterprizing young gentleman soon came back, quite
out of breath, and as destitute of money as when he left.
His mother had caught him in the very act of breaking open her
bureau, and he had to fight hard to escape. They were now
placed in a very disagreeable situation. They had before
them a practical illustration of the evils of the credit system.
They had contracted a debt, with the expectation of paying
it out of the proceeds of an uncertain adventure, and being
dissappointed in its issue, they were involved in great distress
which was very much heightened by a boatman coming up
to them, and offering to row them about the bay for a dollar.
It was such a gay exciting scene upon the water; the boat
lay rocking so temptingly, with a white awning stretched
fore and aft; what should they do? The Tucks knew nothing
about restraining their desires; it was a part of their
education that had been neglected. Their mother was always
fearful of spoiling their dispositions by crossing their
inclinations; and so she always let them have their own way
when it did not interfere very much with her own.
Here I would willingly pause, and either bring this history
to a close, or blot out from it the transactions of this gala-day;
events of our hero's life, we feel ourselves bound to do so, however
prejudicial it may prove to his reputation, or repugnant
to our feelings.
After many idle suggestions on the part of the Tucks, Tom
at last hit upon one that promised to afford the required
funds.
“I know how I could get some money, and our own money
too,” said Tom Tuck.
“How? how?” eagerly inquired the other two.
“I know exactly where my uncle Gris. keeps his pocket-book,
in his desk, and I could very easily get it,” said Tom;
“and it would only be taking it a little in advance, you know,
Fred, because mother says he will leave all his money to us
when he dies; and he can't live much longer, so what difference
does it make, whether we take it now, or after he is
dead?”
“That is prime!” said Fred; “that is first rate—isn't it
Johnny? That is capital! That is equal to Rinaldo Rinaldini.
Come, let us have it right off, Tom.”
Whether it was because Johnny thought he had no right to
interfere in family arrangements, we cannot determine, but he
remained perfectly silent, and neither opposed nor approved
the proposition of the brothers to rob their uncle. It was
finally arranged between them that Tom and Fred should
proceed to their uncle's counting-room, and that while one of
them called the old gentlemen away, the other should riffle
his desk. Their companion in the mean time, was to remain
as a hostage with the dealer in hard-boiled eggs and ginger-beer.
But just as the two adventurers were about starting on
their perilous expedition, Tom Tuck said: “I tell you how
it is Johnny, you are putting all the work upon us, while you
are not going to do any thing.” At this imputation, young
Tremlett blushed, and held dawn his head.
“Don't be a sneak, now,” said Tom.
“I have done all I can do,” replied the boy.
“Well then, if you don't do something, you shall not have
anything,” said the wily Thomas, tauntingly.
“What can I do,” said the youngster.
“You can go with me, and let Fred remain here,” replied
Tom.
“But I won't steal, if I do,” replied our hero.
“Nobody is going to steal; it's our own money; mother
has said so fifty times; hasn't she Fred?”
“Yes, fifty thousand times,” said Fred.
John could think of no argument to oppose to the specious
reasoning of the young lawyers; and although he felt it was
wrong yet as he had been accustomed to look upon them as
his superiors, he thought they must be better judges than himself
of what was right and proper. Besides, he could not bear
the idea of sharing in their money, while he incurred no part
of the risk of obtaining it; although he always shared his own
allowance with the two brothers, without expecting any thing
in return. And so he allowed himself to be led by them to
do what he knew was wrong, lest they should reproach him
with a want of courage.
All the clerks in the employ of Tremlett & Tuck had left
their desks, and gone down to see the parade upon the Battery,
with the exception of Mr. Bates, who remained in the
counting-room to post his books: but the unusual silence and
stillness of the office had such a soothing influence upon the
book-keeper's nerves, that he fell fast asleep while in the very
act of footing up a long column of figures; his head dropped
down upon his opened ledger, and being quite unconscious of
what he was doing, as all sleepy people are, with the exception
of professed somnambulists, he had contrived to overturn
a bottle of red ink, and the contents of it were running down in
streams across the ledger, and along the side of his face;
giving him very much the appearance of a man with his
throat cut from ear to ear. Mr. Tuck was alone in the private
office, apparently engaged in some absorbing calculations
entrance which led directly into the street.
“Ah! Thomas, is that you?” said Mr. Tuck, laying down
his pen.
“How do you do, Uncle;—are you pretty well?” inquired
the young gentleman, affectionately.
“Yes, pretty well; or rather, I am not very well; I took a
slight cold yesterday at an auction,” replied the uncle.
“I hope you are not going to be sick, uncle,” said his
nephew.
“I hope not, I hope not,” said the uncle, coughing slightly;
“but what, what brought you here just now?”
“I wanted you to see the soldiers,” said Tom; “they are
just marching along at the foot of the street.”
“What! soldiers? What a foolish boy! Do you think I
want to look at a regiment of counter-jumpers with bob-tail
coats on? I have got more profitable business than that to
attend to, Thomas.”
“Ah, but you never saw any thing so handsome!” said
the boy; “these are real soldiers, with great long swords
and guns: hark! hear the drums! You don't know how
fine they look; you can see them without going off the
stoop, too.”
“Well, well,” said Mr. Tuck, “since you have taken so
much trouble on my account, I will just step down to the foot
of the stairs to gratify you; but I would as soon look at a
drove of sheep with their fleeces painted red, as at a parcel of
men dressed up in regimentals, and marching through the
streets, without any object in view. I tell you it's a poor
way of making money, Thomas; there is no profit in it; it is
a most ridiculous waste of time; because, Thomas, it requires
but a few hours to make a soldier of an able-bodied
man, when there is any real occasion for his services; and to
compel a poor white-livered denizen of a counting-room, or
one of the human fixtures in a cobbler's stall, or a tailor's shop
the idea of preparing him the better to defend his country, if
he should ever be called upon to do it, is too nonsensical.”
By the time that Mr. Tuck had delivered himself of these
remarks, they had reached the bottom of the stairs that led to
the street door, and on looking out, there was not a soldier to
be seen.
“But where are the soldiers, Thomas?” inquired the old
gentleman.
“They will soon be along, uncle; only wait a moment,'
replied Tom. “I hear the drums now.”
“And then, Thomas, the thing is unjust, as well as absurd,'
continued Mr. Tuck; “because the burden has to be borne
by those who are least able to bear it; but that is always the
case in public affairs. You see, Thomas, if it be actually
necessary for the safety of the country that men should learn
to be soldiers, a trifling fine of a few dollars ought not to be
considered a sufficient punishment for neglecting so important
a duty, because the rich can easily discharge the penalty,
while the poor cannot; and consequently they are compelled
to fight for their country, not because they have property at
stake, to protect which armies are raised, but because they
have not. You see the unreasonableness of it, Thomas.”
“Yes, uncle,” said Thomas, “but I don't see the soldiers
yet; I am afraid they have gone up the next street.”
“And if I had my way, Thomas, I would make the women
train, too,” said Mr. Tuck.
“That would be funny!” said Tom; “my! how I should
laugh to see a regiment of women go a-soldiering!”
“You see, Thomas,” said the gallant old bachelor, “the
women are eternally talking about their rights; they want to
vote, confound them! and if they will vote, they ought to
fight!”
“O, I have seen women fight, many a time,” said the youngster:
“only yesterday morning, I saw two great fat women
and struck the other right in the face with it; my! didn't
they call each other names!”
Just then John Tremlett was seen to pass the corner of the
street and although he must have heard Mr. Tuck and his
affectionate nephew talking together, yet he never turned his
head but walked quickly along.
“I am afraid, uncle, you will take cold, standing here,”
said Tom; “you had better step back into the office, while I
run down the next street, and if I see the soldiers coming, I
will call you.”
So saying, the youngster ran down the street, and Mr. Tuck
returned to his office, saying to himself, as he went: `What
an affectionate boy that Thomas is!—most remarkable child;
always so considerate and respectful to old people! I shouldn't
wonder if I gave that boy something one of these days: if I
was sure of having just such a boy as that, I do n't know but
I might get married after a while, when the times get better:
plenty of women that would have me, I dare say; it wouldn't
cost much to bring up a boy like that; he never asks for
money, like some children.”
“I wonder,” thought Mr. Tuck, “what Mr. Bates is doing
I don't hear him stirring;” and so, to satisfy his curiosity, he
lifted up a corner of the green curtain that hung before a little
window that looked into the outer office; but he suddenly let
it drop again, and came very near dropping himself; and if
he did not scream murder, it was because fright had deprived
him of utterance. Such a spectacle as met his eyes, would
have frightened a butcher. It requires but a very short space
of time to jump at a conclusion; and Mr. Tuck was not so terrified
as to prevent his drawing an inference. Seeing, as he
supposed, his book-keeper lying with his throat cut, his first
thought was, that somebody had robbed him, and then murdered
his clerk; and going to his desk he discovered that his pocket-book
it was gone, which confirmed his suspicion, and quickened
stunned them; and running out into the street, he shouted,
Murder! murder!” with all his might. The noise awoke the
book-keeper, who perceived at a glance the mischief he had
done; and he jumped at a conclusion and jumped off his stool
at the same moment. His first thought was, what his wife
would say to him, and his next to run to the nearest bath and
wash himself, before any body should see him. So he shut
up his ledger, and hurried down stairs in an opposite direction
to Mr. Tuck, for the store was on a corner, and as we have
already stated, there were two entrances to the counting-room.
A murder is a matter of interest to every body, and therefore
Mr. Tuck was soon surrounded by a multitude of men
anxiously inquiring for particulars. But he was too much
excited to give any details: but told them to follow him,
and see for themselves; upon which a great number crowded
up the narrow stairs, all anxious to have the first sight
of the horrid spectacle.
“There he lies!” said Mr. Tuck, turning away his head,
but pointing with his out-stretched arm to the door of the outer
office; “and here is the place from which the murderer took
the pocket book.”
“Where is he? where is he?” exclaimed half a dozen
voices; “we don't see him.”
“Not see him!” exclaimed Mr. Tuck with astonishment
as he elbowed his way into the outer office.
“I see nothing that looks like a murdered man, but this
bottle of red ink that is spilled here,” said one of the crowd.
Mr. Tuck was a second time rendered speechless with astonishment;
so he said nothing; but he looked as blank as a
new ledger.
Some of the men tittered, and some winked very knowingly,
but none of them indulged in outright laughter, because
they all knew that Mr. Tuck was very rich, and it would not
have been genteel to make light of a rich man's mishaps.
“All I can say is, gentlemen,” said Mr. Tuck, at last, “it
is a very strange world that we live in. I know I have been
robbed of my pocket-book, and I am very certain that my
head book-keeper lay here a moment ago, with his throat
cut; but what has become of him, is more than I can say.”
As Mr. Bates' house was but a few steps from the counting-room,
some humane individual, who had heard an exaggerated
account of the disaster, had run there in great haste, and
informed Mrs. Bates that her husband had been murdered by
his employer, Mr. Tuck.
As the book-keeper's wife had promised herself the prolonged
gratification of harrassing her husband to death by piecemeal,
she was not disposed to view the summary process of
Mr. Tuck in a very favorable light; but she hesitated a moment,
on first hearing the awful news, between going into hysterics,
and going down to the counting-room, to make a display
of her outraged feelings: she determined, however, on
the latter course, as she would there have the greatest number
of spectators. So, without stopping to put on her bonnet, she
threw a shawl over her head, and ran with all speed to the
office of Tremlett & Tuck, where she arrived before all the
men had dispersed, who had been collected together by the
outcries of the junior partner. As she ran up the stairs with
great agility, the first intimation that Mr. Tuck had of
her presence, was a piercing shriek that went to his very
soul.
“You sanguinary wretch! you old hoary-headed, brown-wigged
murderer! You villain! you have made my poor
children fatherless, and me a widow! Where is his body!—
let me see him!” exclaimed Mrs. Bates in the first agony of
her lacerated feelings.
“Woman, be still!” exclaimed Mr. Tuck.
“I won't be still!” replied the imaginary widow; “give
me my husband! O where is he!—where is his murdered
body!”
“Poor creature!” said one of the by-standers; “it is a very
hard case; very hard case indeed.”
Nothing feeds grief like sympathy, and these few words
had such an effect on Mrs. Bates, that she redoubled her
shrieks, and gave vent to her feelings in such piercing tones,
that Mr. Tuck was compelled to put his hands to his ears.
“Don't let that woman come near me!” he exclaimed;
“take her away, take her away!”
“Give me my dear husband!—give me back my husband!”
still shrieked the lady, when in walked Mr. Bates, with his
face washed clean, and his coat buttoned up to his chin, to
hide the stains of the red ink on his shirt-bosom.
“Here I am, dear,” said Mr. Bates, in his most placid manner;
“what is the matter dear?”
People should be very cautious how they work themselves
up into a high passion, as it is one of the most difficult things
in the world to descend again to an ordinary level with ease
and credit to themselves. Mrs. Bates felt the full force of this
truth, when her husband made his appearance; and thinking
probably, that the most unnatural conduct would be the most
becoming on the occasion, she uttered another piercing scream,
and fell senseless into the arms of Mr. Tuck, who being quite
unprepared for her reception, fell with her, to the great danger
of both their necks; but fortunately, neither was much hurt,
although the merchant was very much frightened. The lady
obstinately refused to be brought to her senses, and she was
conveyed home in an omnibus, where the book-keeper learned
for the first time, the cause of all the confusion.
As soon as Mr. Tuck had collected his scattered senses, he
began to think about his pocket-book; and when he remembered
that it must have been taken by some one who entered
his office through the room in which Mr. Bates sat writing at
his desk, he began to have suspicions of him.
“A man with such a wife as that would do any thing!”
said Mr. Tuck to himself; “confound her! she called me a
brown-wigged old villain, and I'll have revenge of her!”
Just as he had come to the determination of sending
for a police-officer to arrest him, Mr. Tremlett returned
to the counting-room, and on hearing Mr. Tuck's suspicions
of his book-keeper, he put them all at rest, by reminding his
partner that Mr. Bates had it in his power to rob them of any
amount he pleased, without any risk to himself, by false entries
in their books; and it was not at all likely that he would
do so foolish a thing as to steal his pocket-book, when he must
know that suspicion would immediately attach to him.
But Mr. Tuck was unwilling to relinquish the idea that
there had been a conspiracy to rob him, and that Mrs. Bates
was at the bottom of it.
And while the two partners were arguing about the most
prudent means to be taken for the recovery of the pocket-book,
a messenger came in great haste to inform Mr. Tremlett that
his adopted son had been upset in a boat, and that he had been
taken from the water, as was supposed, lifeless. The old
merchant turned ghastly pale at the intelligence, and sank
back in his chair, quite overcome. But he revived again immediately,
and took his hat and cane, and hurried to his house,
where he found the boy, who had just begun to show signs
of life. A physician had been summoned, and all the means
that could be made use of, had been put in requisition for his
recovery. The old gentleman fell on his knees by the side of
the boy, and kissed his wet cheeks. “Poor, dear child!” he
exclaimed, “I did not know that I loved you half so well. May
God in his mercy, spare you to me a little longer!” Mrs.
Swazey was busily engaged rubbing him with hot flannels,
while Bridget was wringing her hands, and crying piteously.
After a while, the color returned to his cheeks, and he opened
his eyes and stared wildly around for a moment, and then relapsed
into a lethargy again. But the physician pronounced
him out of danger, and he was put to bed, where Mr. Tremlett
watched by him until morning.
`Ah! my poor boy!' said he, “you shall never stir so far
He was anxious to learn all about the accident which
had so nearly proved fatal to the boy, but the physicians having
advised him not to ask him any questions that would be
likely to excite him, he refrained from doing so. But as soon as
it was light, he despatched his coachman to find out the boatman
who had rescued him, as he wished to reward him, as
well as learn from him all the particulars of the accident. In
about an hour the man returned, bringing the boatman with
him, whose name was Bill Van Tyne.
“Brave fellow!” said Mr. Tremlett, in the warmth of his
gratitude, “you shall be rewarded for your exertions.”
“Well, I always like to save a gentlemen's son from drowning
when I kin,” said Mr. Van Tyne, “because then I know
I shall get well paid for it; and I don't mind it if I do get
hurted a little. I have had a good many dollars given me for
saving people's lives sence I have first followed the water for
a living.”
“And how did this accident happen?” inquired Mr. Tremlett.
“Why you see,” said Mr. Van Tyne, “it was all the same
as if you was sitting here, and I was sitting there, and this
here table was a bar'l of 'ysters: then up gets one of the boys
on top, and begins to say how he will fling the pocket-book
overboard, because he said if he didn't 'twould be found out
arter he got hum.”
“The pocket-book!” said Mr. Tremlett.
“Yes, a yellow sheep-skin pocket-book, tied up with a piece
of red tape,” said Mr. Van Tyne. “Then little John, the littlest
boy, which almost got drownded, got up and swore he
should'nt do no such thing.”
“Did he swear?” asked Mr. Tremlett.
“Well, I can't rightly say whether he did or not,” said the
boatman, “but he said to the other, I believe he called him
Tom, that he shouldn't throw it overboard, because he was
clinch, and I jumped in between 'em, and fust I perceived, I'm
blest if I don't wish I may never see another 'yster, if the boat
didn't capsize; and before I know'd what I was doing, I was
ten foot under water. So says I to myself, “Fanny you are
done for this heat, any how you can fix it!”
“What, was there a woman on board?” asked Mr. Tremlett.
“No, not exactly a woman,” replied Mr. Van Tyne, “only
Fanny Kemble, that's the boat's name.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Tremlett; “then what became of little
Johnny, as you call him?”
“Well, when I come up and blowed,” he said “I looked
round and there was two of the youngsters clinging to the
boat, but the littlest one I couldn't see; so I looked down in
the water, and there I seen him. He looked green enough, I
tell you, and all crinkling like; so says I, it won't do to let a
gentleman's son go off in that way, no how; so I fetched a
good long breath, and down I div, and just caught him by
the hair of his head. And so another boat picked us up; and
that was the way of it.”
“And this pocket-book,” said Mr. Tremlett; “what did
the boys say about it?”
“Well, perhaps I shouldn't like to tell,” said the boatman.
“Why not, Sir?” asked Mr. Tremlett.
“Well I don't know; perhaps I might, if I had any thing
giv to me to make it a consideration,” replied Mr. Van Tyne.
“We shall see about that another time,” said Mr. Tremlett;
“call here again at three o'clock, and I will then pay you.”
So Mr. Van Tyne left the house, and Mr. Tremlett returned
to his son's bed-side, with sad misgivings in his mind. As
the youngster was quite recovered, he asked him about the
pocket book, how it came into his possession, and what it contained.
At first he was going to deny any knowledge of it;
he would send him back to the Asylum from whence he had
taken him, and that he would never see him again. And
thereupon, the boy made a full confession of how Tom Tuck
called his uncle out of the office, while he slipped in at the
other door, and finding Mr. Bates asleep, softly opened the
door of the private office, and took the pocket-book out of Mr.
Tuck's desk, and then slipped out again by the same way he
had entered, without waking Mr. Bates.
Although he made a full confession of the manner in which
he had stolen the pocket-book, yet he did not attempt to criminate
the Tucks by relating the specious arguments by which
they had overcome his aversion to the act, but on the contrary,
he rather strove to shield them from any blame. But
Mr. Tremlett could not fail to perceive that Tom Tuck was
the principal instigator in the business; and therefore he resolved
that the two brothers should bear their full share of
the blame; for although he would have gladly hushed the
matter up, yet it was of too serious a nature to be passed lightly
over. The pocket-book was still missing, and John could not
tell what had become of it. Tom Tuck had it in his possession
when the boat upset, but whether it had been lost, or
whether he still had it, could not be known. Mr. Tremlett
was too much agitated by the discovery he had made, to attend
to any business. He sent a note, therefore, to his partner,
stating that he had some important information to impart
to him, which brought him immediately to his house.
Mr. Tuck was overwhelmed with astonishment and indignation,
when he heard how his pocket-book had been stolen;
he sent for his two nephews and their mother, who soon made
their appearance; the lady looking very grand, and the two
boys very demure and innocent. Their sister also came with
them, and she contrived to seat herself in a chair by the side
of her favorite, which Mrs. Tuck no sooner perceived, than she
On hearing the accusation against her two boys, the lady
burst into tears, while the youngsters themselves swore it was
a lie from beginning to end; and that they had never seen the
pocket-book, nor heard a syllable about it before. Their
mother called little Johnny a thieving, lying brat, and said
she always knew some harm would come to her children, by
their associating with such a creature. Just then Bill Van
Tyne, the boatman, made his appearance, and not only confirmed
all that young Tremlett had disclosed, but also related
the conversation which passed between the boys, while they
were proving so clearly that they had a perfect right to the
property of their uncle. This the two brothers also denied;
and their mother bestowed some very choice expressions not
only upon the boatman, but upon Mr. Tremlett and his son,
whom she called by a name that it is not necessary to repeat.
“Well,” exclaimed Mr. Van Tyne, “if that don't beat all my
wife's relations! I never seen taller lying than that at a ward
meeting! Face it out, young fellers; you'll make first rate
lawyers, when you grow up!”
Mr. Tuck was beginning to think that there was in
reality a conspiracy to injure his two nephews, when the
door opened, and in ran little Julia Tuck, who had stolen
out of the room unperceived, at the commencement of the
dispute, and put the lost pocket-book into the hands of her
uncle.
“They shan't lie about little Johnny!” said the little girl
exultingly. Mrs. Swazey and Bridget had been listening at
the key hole, in a state of great excitement, during the whole
examination; but they now broke through all restraints, and
rushed into the room. The latter caught young Tremlett
round the neck, and almost stifled him with kisses, while
the house-keeper threw herself into a chair, and burst into
tears.
As it would be quite impossible accurately to describe the
scene which ensued, we will not make the attempt, but leave
it to the imagination of the reader to form such a tableau
out of the materials which we have furnished him, as will
best agree with his feelings.
| CHAPTER VIII. Bankrupt stories | |