Collected works of j s f.., p.7
Collected Works of J S Fletcher, page 7
This part of the performance was a difficult trapeze act, in the course of which he had to swing himself from one bar to another, with a fall of thirty-five or forty feet below. Mr. Gammidge had endeavoured to persuade him to have a net stretched across the ring in case of accidents, but he would not hear of it.
Soon the time came round, and Frank found himself swinging high over the heads of his spell-bound audience. He swung to and fro for awhile, and described various movements. Then he nerved himself for the great leap. He swung forward and let go. Someone screamed. He missed his grasp and fell, down, down, into the ring beneath.
CHAPTER IX.
TROUBLE.
HE WAS CONSCIOUS as he fell of clutching vainly and despairingly at the air. A thousand thoughts rang through his brain; his whole life seemed to pass in quick and yet clear review before him. He saw a woman’s face beneath; it was Maude Seymour’s. He heard women shriek, and saw the crowded gallery shrink in terror as he swooped towards them. Then he fell with a dull thud — and remembered no more.
He opened his eyes at last. He was somewhere in a dark room, there was so little light. His head ached, and one of his arms felt stiff. He tried to move it and found that it refused to move. He tried the other and found that it responded to his wish. He felt about him and discovered that he was in bed, and that his motionless arm was bandaged up in splints. He lifted his hand to his head; there were cloths laid across his forehead. Evidently, he thought, he was knocked about a good deal.
He lay still for some time, and at last tried to speak.
“Hollo!” he said faintly. Anybody about?”
His voice sounded a long way off. Somebody stirred near at hand.
“Hush,” said a voice that seemed familiar to him, “you mustn’t speak. Lie still.”
“Who’s that?” he asked, disregarding the injunction to be silent.
“Me,” said the voice. “Is it Tottie Gammidge?” he enquired.
“Yes,” said Miss Tottie. “But you mustn’t talk, Mr. Carisbroke. The doctor will be so cross if you do. I will put some fresh cloths on your head.”
He lay still for a while, and felt her take the bandages away from his head and replace them with others that felt cool and refreshing.
“Look here,” he said. “I must talk a little. It won’t hurt me. I feel all right. How long have I been here, and what’s the matter with me?”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk,” said Miss Tottie. “It will make you worse. You’ve been here in your own bed for three weeks, Mr. Carisbroke, and your arm’s broken, and you’ve had concussion of the brain. And now please be quiet.”
“Then I sha’n’t,” he said. “Three weeks! By Jove — my head does feel queer, too. Did I fall?”
“You fell off the trapeze — as I knew you would,” she answered. “And now I won’t answer another question.”
He heard her go away from the bedside, and he was forced to be content with that. He lay still, trying to remember about his fall, and presently dropped asleep. When he woke again, he heard Tottie talking to the doctor.
“He will do well if he is kept quiet and sleeps,” the latter was saying. “He’ll owe a good deal to you, my dear. You ought to have been a nurse. I don’t think the lad would have come round if it had not been for your attention.”
Tottie said nothing and Frank lay still. Presently the doctor went away, and all was quiet again.
“Tottie,” said Frank after a while. “Come here.”
“Are you awake?” she said, coming to the bedside. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I’ve only just awoke.”
“Do you feel better, Mr. Carisbroke?”
“I feel awfully hungry,” he said. “I could eat a horse.”
“You shall have something at once,” she said. “Ma’s downstairs with your landlady, and she’ll soon have something ready.”
“Take these cloths off my head, will you?” he said. “They’re hot.”
But when she put her hand on the cloths, Frank possessed himself of it with his own uninjured hand, and bringing it to his lips, kissed it.
“I heard what the doctor said,” he whispered. “I’ll thank you afterwards.”
But Miss Tottie had snatched her hand away and was gone, and he saw her no more that day, Mrs. Gammidge came up with beef-tea for him, and enjoined perfect silence, and then she too went, and Frank’s old servant, Stevens, appeared to stay through the night with him. Frank dropped asleep while trying to extract some information from Stevens, and slept soundly.
In the morning Stevens attended to him and looked to his wants as though he had been a baby. He was remarkably reticent, however, and would hardly say anything.
“Look here, Stevens,” said Frank. “If you don’t answer my question, I’ll get out of bed and kick you. So you’d better speak.”
“Very well, sir,” said Stevens.
“Who’s nursed me all the time?”
“Miss Gammidge and me, sir.”
“Was I very bad?”
“Very, sir.”
“Like dying?”
“Once or twice, sir.”
“Stevens, did anybody call to ask after me?” Stevens however had removed himself to another part of the room, and was ostentatiously mending the fire, making as much noise as possible in doing so. He had been instructed not to answer a question of that sort. “Do you hear?” shouted Frank. Answer me!”
“Two or three folks, sir,” said Stevens reluctantly.
“Who were they?”
“There was Smith, the clown, sir, and Mr. Murfioni came over from Chatford.”
“Who else?”
“No — nobody sir,” said Stevens more reluctantly still. “Except Mr. Gammidge, of course.”
“Was I brought here at first?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that’s three weeks since, eh?”
“Three weeks, day before yesterday, sir.”
Frank asked no more after that, but he thought a great deal. In the afternoon Tottie Gammidge came in with the doctor.
“Well,” said the latter, an old man, who had assisted at Frank’s birth, “and so you’re in your senses again, lad, are you? You’ve had a narrow shave this time.”
“When can I get up?” asked Frank. “Get up, indeed! Do you feel as if you could walk?”
“I could do anything if only you’d let me have something to eat, I can’t live on beef-tea and that sort of thing.”
“He’ll do,” said the old man, turning to Tottie,” He’ll do now. But you can’t get up yet awhile, Frank, my boy. Your head wants plenty of rest.”
“It only feels heavy,” said Frank, “and I ache all over with lying here.”
There however the doctor said he must lie, and went away. Tottie went with him, after asking Frank how he felt, and he did not see her again for some days.
On the fourth day after that he got out of bed, and was dressed by the faithful Stevens, who being out of a place at the time, had come to his old master’s assistance as soon as he heard of the accident Frank felt his weakness as soon as he stood erect, and he was glad to sit down in an easy chair and rest his head. Towards the end of the afternoon he dropped asleep.
When he woke he saw Tottie Gammidge seated at the other side of the fire. She was evidently in some trouble, for her face was wet with tears, and she held a very damp handkerchief in her hand, Frank watched her for some time before she saw that he was awake.
“Tottie,” he said at last. “What’s the matter?”
She jumped up and put the handkerchief hastily out of sight. “I didn’t know you were awake,” she said.
“What’s the matter?” he repeated. “You were crying.”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll send Stevens now you’re awake, Mr. Carisbroke.”
“Hang Stevens,” he said. “Sit down again and tell me why you were crying.”
“It was nothing,” she said. “Surely one can shed a few tears without being asked the reason!”
“Tottie,” said Frank, “come here.”
He caught hold of her hand and drew her towards him.
“Now,” he said, “tell me what’s the matter.”
“It is nothing, Mr. Carisbroke indeed. At least,” she said, remembering that it was a great deal to herself if not to him, “at least, it is nothing that would affect you.”
“What a nice way of saying that I am hardhearted!” he said. “Well, if you won’t tell me you won’t. But you are in some trouble, I know, and you ought to tell me. Can I help you in any way?”
“No, Mr. Carisbroke, thank you.”
He let her go then, and in a few minutes Stevens entered the room. Frank was very gloomy and silent all the evening, and asked his man no questions, whereat Stevens was very glad, for he had been warned that excitement was not good for Mr. Carisbroke.
But next morning, Frank suddenly remembered that Stevens might be able to throw some light on the subject of Tottie’s grief.
“Stevens,” he said, “is there anything wrong with the Gammidges?”
“Anything wrong, sir? No, sir; they’re all well, sir.”
“I don’t mean as regards their health. Is their business all right?”
“Don’t know much about it, sir,” said Stevens, discreetly and evasively.
“Confound it, man, answer my questions straight out!” cried Frank. “I saw Miss Gammidge crying last night, when she thought me asleep, and I know something’s the matter. Now Stevens, you know me. If you know anything about the matter, speak straight out.”
Stevens looked decidedly uncomfortable, and shifted from one foot to another. “Well, you see, sir, it’s this way, so far as I can make out, though I was forbidden to breathe a word to you, sir. The old lady told me last night, sir, that the old gentleman borrowed some money a month ago from Mr. Seymour, the lawyer, and gave him a bill of sale on the circus and stock. The month was up yesterday, and as Mr. Gammidge can’t pay, Mr. Seymour’s going to sell him up. They expect the broker taking possession this morning, sir, and I suppose that’s why the young lady was in trouble, Mr. Frank.”
Frank lay still for a minute or two. Then he said something which made Stevens jump. “Here Stevens,” he continued, presently. “Help me up and then go for a cab.”
“For a cab, sir! Oh, sir, you’ll—”
“Do as I tell you,” said Frank. And he seemed so determined, and looked so resolute, that Stevens carried out his commands and fetched a cab, in which the two drove away towards the circus.
CHAPTER X.
FRANK IS USEFUL AGAIN.
“IT’S ALL UP, old woman, at last,” groaned Mr. Gammidge. “We’ve come to the last act, and we shall have to make our exit.”
He and his wife and daughter were sitting in the little room at the circus, which was devoted to managerial purposes. Mr. Seymour’s loan was overdue now, and that worthy gentleman had refused to give any extension of time. He had further informed Mr. Gammidge on the previous day, that his broker would take possession of the circus and its stock on the next morning. “What shall we do?” said Mrs. Gammidge, in answer to her husband’s speech. “We can’t start again without stock.”
“Never mind, ma,” said Miss Tottie. “I’ll get an engagement somewhere, and you and pa’ can retire. It’s time you did.”
“You’re a good gel, a good gel, Tottie,” said Mr. Gammidge, wiping his eyes. “But — hallo, here they are!”
A loud knocking was heard at the entrance door of the circus, and a fainter one at the little side-entrance, Mrs. Gammidge turned pale, and even the old man looked disturbed.
“I’ll let them in,” said Tottie, rising. “If you would go home with ma’, it would be a good thing, pa’.”
“Nay,” said Mrs. Gammidge.”
“I’ll stop and see the end.”
“Aye,” said her husband, “we’ll go through with it. I’ll open the side-door to ’em, Tottie, if you’ll go round to the front.”
Tottie went round and undid the bars and bolts. There was no one in the circus except her father and mother; the grooms had been earlier in the morning to feed the animals, and had gone away again.
Two or three men of broken-down appearance, accompanied by a stout individual, who carried a bag, stood outside. As soon as Tottie opened the door, they crowded unceremoniously inside the lobby. “Mornin’, miss,” said the stout individual. “Old man about?”
“Mr. Gammidge is in,” said Tottie.
“Oh, all right. Don’t want to make no fuss, you know. Got to take possession under a bill of sale, under direction from Thomas Seymour, Esquire. Now then, lads, look handy and let me take an inventory.”
By this time Mr. Gammidge had admitted another seedy individual, and came forward to meet the broker.
“Mornin’, sir,” said the latter. “Sorry to disturb you. Unpleasant business, no doubt — such things will occur. Total amounts to two hundred and twenty-one pounds, five shillings and a penny. Going to pay?”
“No,” said Mr. Gammidge. “I can’t.”
“I’ll take the inventory then,” said the broker. “Perhaps this here young lady will show us round.”
Miss Tottie conducted the group to the stables, and Mr. Gammidge retired to console his wife. It was a trying time for them.
After a while the old man went out into the ring. One of the seedy individuals was yawning in the stalls; the others were occupied with the broker. As Mr. Gammidge stood staring disconsolately about him, Mr. Seymour entered from the front lobby.
He came sauntering across to the yawning gentleman, and asked a few questions. Then, recognising Mr. Gammidge’s presence, he nodded carelessly to him. “Well, Gammidge, sorry to sell you up, but business is business, you know. Very foolish thing to borrow two hundred pounds for a month.”
“You should have told me that at the time, sir,” said the old man, with some dignity. “I don’t know much about these matters, and I came to you as a gentleman.”
“Er — quite right, quite right,” said the attorney. “Well, I’m doing you a service. You’ll get into some respectable occupation now.”
“I’ve always been respectable,” said Mr. Gammidge. “And I always shall be. Owning a circus, sir, is as respectable as — as—”
“As being a dirty attorney, eh, old Gammidge?” said a well-known, if somewhat weak voice behind him. “Cheer up, old chap, I’ll stand by you.”
“Bless me, my boy, why you’ll kill yourself comin’ out in this way!” said Mr. Gammidge, turning and grasping Frank’s hand. “I thought you was in bed, my boy.”
“I got up to come here,” said Frank, “to see that you weren’t imposed on.”
“Mind what you say, fellow,” said Mr. Seymour, who had hailed Frank’s sudden appearance with ill-disguised uneasiness. “That’s actionable.”
Frank looked at him and smiled. Then he turned to Stevens, who evidently was vastly enjoying some secret.
“Stevens, go find the broker and his men and bring them here,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” said Stevens, darting away.
“Look here, sir,” said Mr. Seymour, white with passion, “mind your own business if you have any, and get out of this. This building is my property.”
Frank turned away with a smile, and began to ask questions of Mr. Gammidge. That little man seemed relieved now that Frank had come.
Presently Stevens returned with the broker and his men. Tottie followed them, only to stop at the entrance of the ring, when she saw Frank.
“Now, Mr. Buggs,” said Frank, “let me see your papers.”
“Yes, sir,” said the broker, who knew Frank and liked him.
“Stop that,” cried the lawyer. “Get out of here, you Carisbroke! Don’t give him the papers, Buggs, or I’ll make it worse for you!”
“Stevens,” said Frank, “stand by Mr. Seymour, and if he has another attack like that, just quieten him, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” said Stevens, squaring his fists and looking the lawyer threateningly in the face. “You keep quiet, my hearty, or I’ll make you sit up.”
Now Mr. Buggs and his men, with the quick wittedness of their class, saw that something was up. None of them liked Mr. Seymour, and all liked Carisbroke. So they laughed long and loud, much to the attorney’s chagrin.
“Now, Buggs,” said Frank, “the papers seem all right. What’s the total?”
“Two hundred and twenty-one, five, and a penny, Mr. Carisbroke.”
Frank pulled out a pocket-book, and laid down three notes, two for a hundred each, one for twenty. Then he fished a sovereign and some silver out of his waistcoat pocket, and handed them over to the broker, who thereupon handed over a receipt in his turn.
“That’s all right,” said Frank. “Now, lads, as your presence here isn’t quite welcome, you know, though we shall be glad to see you in the ordinary way of business” (much laughter), “I’ll give you half-a-sovereign to drink Mr. Gammidge’s health, and then you can go. Three cheers for Mr. Gammidge and his Royal Circus!”
Whereupon Mr. Buggs and his emissaries raised three mighty cheers and departed. Mr. Seymour was edging away too, when Frank caught sight of him.
“Here, Stevens,” he said. “Put Mr. Seymour outside — carefully.”
Upon which Stevens did put Mr. Seymour outside in such a fashion that the lawyer had ample grounds for action.
So the circus was quiet once more, and Frank turned to Mr. Gammidge. Tottie had flown away somewhere. “My boy,” said the old man. “I can’t say nothing to you. You’ve saved us. I’m an old fool, I daresay, but I — boo — boo — boo — hoo — hoo!”
And Mr. Gammidge dissolved his tears, whereupon Frank left him to the care of Stevens, and went round to the private room, where he found Tottie alone, Mrs. Gammidge having gone home before Frank’s arrival.
“Let me sit down, Tottie,” he said feebly. “I’m done for now. It’s been rather too much for me, I believe.”
She brought an easy chair forward for him, and fetched him some brandy from her father’s cupboard.
