# A Breaker of Laws/Chapter 18

pp. 275-290.

### CHAPTER XVIII

The train which, a week or two later, conveyed William Finnis and Miss Ladd went by extremely easy stages to the Kentish coast, the time being now near to winter, and passengers to the sea too rare to be carried hastily. At Whitstable Mr. Finnis stepped out and went to the window of the compartment occupied by Miss Ladd. She was gazing attentively at a journal which she held upside down, her thoughts evidently not directed at the article, 'How Girls can win Husbands,' on the page before her eyes.
'Are we there?' she asked hurriedly.
'No,' replied Mr. Finnis, 'we're 'ere. Another forty minutes before we arrive. An idea's just occurred to me.'
'I lay it's a good one,' remarked Miss Ladd satirically.
'Supposing she's 'eard all about it? Supposing she's seen one of the two or three newspapers that had an account of the case? Supposing——'
'Oh, get along with you and your supposin'!' cried Miss Ladd distractedly. 'Why don't you take 'opeful views, like I do? You'll give me the faceache if you keep looking so down in the month. I keep up my spirits,' added Miss Ladd with undisguised depression, 'why can't you?'
The guard called on the passengers to take their seats on pain of being left behind, and William Finnis went back silently to his smoking carriage.
'It's a job,' he said to himself, 'that will take a bit of doin', and I shan't be sorry when it's all over. Properly speaking, it ain't in my line, and if it wasn't for my promise to poor old Elf——'
The town was taking its winter's sleep, and the two marched down towards the sea-front. Miss Ladd ahead, without being cheered by any of the attractions that the place offered in summer-time. Mr. Finnis had suggested tea, but Miss Ladd had negatived this so brusquely that he hesitated to offer any further remark.
'This isn't the—the right direction,' he ventured to say when they had reached the front and were looking out on the open sea.
'I know that!' snapped Miss Ladd.
'We ought to turn to the left and make towards Birchington. It's about ten minutes' walk. There's a painter chap buried there, and——'
'You seem to know a lot,' said the lady. 'Fr'aps you know what we're goin' to say when we get there?'
'’Ang me if I do, and that's a fact! All I'm prepared to do is to back up whatever you like to tell her.'
'That's something,' conceded Miss Ladd. 'She'll believe what you say. She's got confidence in you.'
'Think so?' he asked, flushing.
'I know so. More'n once I've said things in the course of conversation against you——'
'Thanks!'
'And she never would stand any remark of the kind. Fired up in a moment she did, so that whatever you say I know quite well she'll take as gospel.'
'You get this job through,' said Finnis, 'and I shall always think of you with what you may call gratitude. I was opposed to you from the very first, years ago, when Elf took up with you and that lively old brother of yours, but——'
'Nobody understood Thomas thoroughly.'
'I understood him quite enough,' said Finnis, 'and neither of you ever did poor Elf any good. It wasn't perhaps your fault that he used your stable to put the stuff in, but somehow I can't 'elp thinking that if we'd kept him away from Deptford and from you he would never 'ave gone into the business again.'
'Well, upon my——' began Miss Ladd.
'’Ark!' commanded William Finnis. 'Let me finish! I've got all that against you on the debit side of the account Now you've got to manage this affair right this afternoon, and I shall strike it all out, and I shall feel myself in your debt, and I shall respect you.'
'Come on,' she said brusquely. 'We mustn't stay here all day chattering.'
Miss Ladd strode along the pathway cut out of the sea-front with briskness for a few minutes, beating the few bath-chairs easily until she turned aside to skirt the bay, when she walked less fiercely and spoke again.
'Livin' alone,' she said, 'hasn't improved my temper, and you mustn't mind if I express meself awkwardly.'
'I can't claim to be over and above well-mannered myself,' said William Finnis.
'I'm a good deal—a good deal touched by what you said just now,' she went on, with her handkerchief under her veil, 'and I'm goin' to try and get your respect. We've been playin' opposite sides till lately, but that hasn't prevented me from seein' that you've always been straightforward and right-minded. I can admire a man like you.'
William Finnis increased the distance between himself and his companion by another yard.
'You needn't be afraid,' said Miss Ladd; 'I shan't marry you. My marryin' days are over.'
'Oh, I don't know,' said William Finnis reassured, and with an effort at gallantry; 'some chaps ain't partic'lar.'
Across the grass from the white roadway came the small figure of a petticoated boy toddling in the erratic manner of a youth who has only just learnt the art. The little fellow slipped as he neared them and would have fallen, only that Finnis, stepping forward, caught him, and saying, 'Upsy-daisy!' lifted him in the air, and thus made him forget his intention to cry.
'Why, it's Falgy?'
Trafalgar it was, Trafalgar panting and red-cheeked and exhausted, and more than usually limited of speech, giving partially intelligible directions which Miss Ladd alertly interpreted. Mumsie was over there in the shelter, and mumsie had despatched him to ascertain whether they were not really Uncle Finfin and Aunty Laddie. Having succeeded in making this clear, the young man, still full of importance with his mission, seized Miss Ladd's skirt, and the tail of William Fianis's overcoat, and convoyed them towards the distant shelter, where a white handkerchief was now waving.
'Mind you tell it well,' he whispered.
'Mind you don't spoil it,' said Miss Ladd.
Caroline, bright-eyed as ever, and looking greatly improved, tripped from the shelter with both hands out.
'I guessed it was you,' she said, kissing Miss Ladd, 'and I hoped it was Elf with you.'
'Unfortunately,' said William Finnis, 'it ain't'
'But I'm glad to see you, Mr. Finnis.'
'You're looking a lump better.'
'I'm quite well,' she declared cheerfully, 'only that they say at the Home they don't want to lose Trafalgy and me for a few days yet. I have written, I should think, four letters to Elf, and he hasn't answered one.'
'He was never,' said Mr. Finnis, glancing at Miss Ladd for instruction—'he was never what you'd call a complete letter-writer.'
'I dare say he's been very busy,' said Caroline excusingly. 'I like to think of him being hard at work.'
'As a matter of fact there's plenty about.'
'Take the little boy on your knee, man,' ordered Miss Ladd, 'and show him your watch. Shall we all sit 'ere for a few minutes?'
'Why, yes, Miss Ladd. You've had a long journey, and all just to see me and Trafalgy.'
'We've got some news for you.'
'Good news?' asked Caroline brightly. Miss Ladd did not answer, and she turned to William Finnis. 'Good news?' she repeated.
'It all depends,' he said carefully, as he held the watch against the ear of the delighted boy—'it all depends on what you call good news.'
'Let us guess first. Falgy, boy, guess what the news is?'
Trafalgar, after detaching his mind from the ingenious mysteries of the watch, and concentrating it upon the question submitted to him, decided in favour of sweets. No, not sweets, guess again! Trafalgy thereupon suggested a gee-gee, and, the solution not being adjudged correct, returned in despair to his original suggestion of sweets.
'Now let mumsie guess.'
Caroline put her hand over her eyes for a moment, and Finnis glanced nervously at Miss Ladd. 'That your new patent is all right, Mr. Finnis, and that you've sold it for a lot of money.'
'As it happens,' he said, 'there is something in that; but it isn't exactly the news we've brought.'
'That Elf—— Ah!' she cried delightedly, 'it is something about Elf. Miss Ladd, tell me!'
'It's startling news,' said Miss Ladd, looking out at a detached black cloud over the sea, left by a departed steamer.
'Why, of course, else you wouldn't both have taken the trouble to come down. Is Elf looking after the shop, Mr. Finnis?'
'The shop's all right,' he said, waiting for Miss Ladd's instructions.
'A week or so ago,' commenced Miss Ladd, shading her eyes and still looking out at sea, 'a week or so ago there was—perhaps you saw it in the papers?'
'We never see papers at the Home, excepting the illustrateds.'
'There was a dreadful accident on the river.'
'Ah!' said William Finnis, with sudden understanding.
'A boat was going Clacton way. It was foggy, just off Woolwich especially. The poor creatures on board was thinking of nothing. Suddenly, with only a moment's warning,' said Miss Ladd dramatically, 'smash!'
'Falgy, don't you bother Mr. Finnis too much.'
'He ain't botherin',' said William. 'Go on, miss, with your story.'
'Some of the newspapers said that a 'underd was drowned; some put it a 'underd and twenty; it will never be known exactly the number.'
'Dreadful!' said Caroline sympathetically. 'Nobody you knew on board, I 'ope?'
'Passengers,' went on Miss Ladd stolidly, 'went on board at London Bridge. Some was seen off by friends, some wasn't.'
'Means sorrow in a good many households,' remarked the young woman. 'Makes one shiver to hear about such dreadful things.'
'You mustn't shiver about others' troubles,' said the other dictatorially; 'you must save that for your own.'
'But I haven't any,' remarked Caroline good-temperedly.
'Dearie,' said Miss Ladd, turning from her inspection of the disappearing cloud of smoke, 'we want to break it to you as gentle as we can. Your 'usband was on board that boat——'
Caroline leaned forward quickly, and took Trafalgar and held him.
'And we're afraid that he's gone down with the rest of the poor souls, and that he's now—— You saw him off,' she said with a burst to William Finnis.
'I saw him off.'
'He was going to run down to Southend on bis'ness.'
'On partic'lar bis'ness that I couldn't trust anyone else with,' said William, looking down at the wooden flooring of the shelter.
'And he seemed well and jolly, and the last words he called out was "I wish Carry was with me."'
'"And the boy,"' said William Finnis correctingly.
'"I wish Carry and the boy was with me."'
'That's right.'
'And he pretended in his larkish way that he was off to the other side of the world, and he said he'd write from Sydney.'
'In so many words,' corroborated William Finnis, 'that was the general effect of his remarks.'
'And you watched the steamer go down the river from the top of London Bridge?' said the examining counsel, still looking at the witness, and not looking at Caroline.
'I don't deny it, miss.'
'And you went down and looked over the dead bodies——'
For the first time Caroline gave a quick moan. She held the amazed Trafalgar more closely.
'And you——'
'Recognised him.'
'No, no,' said Miss Ladd testily, 'nothing of the kind. You didn't recognise him because he wasn't there.'
'What I meant was,' explained William Finnis, his face perspiring, 'that if he had been there I should 'ave recognised him.'
'That's more like it,' agreed Miss Ladd. 'His was one of the twenty or thirty that must 'ave been washed out to sea.' She paused a moment. 'Isn't that so?' she demanded sharply.
'That is so.'
'Answer quicker then, why don't you? You made inquiries the last thing before coming down to-day, and no trace of the body had been found?'
'Not so much as the shadow of a trace.' William Finnis coughed. 'And I should like to add that he was my own special partic'lar chum, and I shall miss him——'
'My dear,' said Miss Ladd, with sympathy in her usually harsh voice, 'you're all of a tremble! Can't you 'ave a good cry?'
Caroline, white of face, shook her head silently.
'Then, at any rate, let me take the good little boy.'
'Falgy,' said William Finnis, 'come here and let me show you London.'
The boy was preparing to slip from his mother's lap to enjoy the experience of being turned upside down, but she held him tightly—very tightly.
'No,' she whispered, 'no. Let him stay here, please. He's all I've got now.'
They walked slowly along the bay up to the main road, Caroline resting on Miss Ladd's protecting and affectionate arm. Half-way to the Home she had to give up the boy, and Trafalgar found himself, to his great delight, perched on William Finnis's shoulder, where he drummed Finnis's bowler hat, pretending to be a conspicuous figure in the band of the 1st Life Guards. Tears came only when the two women and Falgy were alone.
William Finnis strode briskly up and down outside the red-bricked building, content to think that the most difficult part of the undertaking was past, but with his heart full of regret and anxiety for Caroline. It was in the course of this exercise that an admirable idea came into his bead, and when a large nurse with white streamers sailed out of the front doorway, and conducted him majestically to the reception-room, where the female patients came and viewed him, he had completed the details of his proposal. Caroline came downstairs slowly with Miss Ladd, and the other patients, having by this time heard the news which the visitors had brought, buzzed around her sympathetically and offered with special earnestness—for Caroline was evidently a favourite—the usual condolences.
'It was to be, my poor dear, depend upon it. It's all ordered, in my opinion; everything's mapped out for us.'
'You try a good strong cup of tea. I know when my 'usband kicked the bucket——'
'All flesh is grass, dear; try to think of that. We're 'ere to-day and gone to-morrow, and in the midst of——'
'Of course it's very hard on you, but some are worse off than you, dear. Look at my aunt Emmer, left with nine, and the youngest not two months old, and her with her first floor empty and a cold in her head and——'
'When shall you start seeing about your black? You'll look very well in crape, only it does spot so. The leastest shower of rain and there you are.'
Caroline, tearful, but her lips set firmly, as one determined to keep much of her grief to herself and Trafalgar, escaped the well-intentioned women and came into the reception-room. Miss Ladd followed, and was about to ask for lights, but Caroline begged her not to do so. The long November evening had already begun; the room was dusk.
'I say,' said Finnis, blurting at once into his project, and discarding his previous intentions of leading up to the point in a diplomatic manner—'how'd it be for you to take your sister's place down in Devonshire?'
'Now what are you talking about?' protested Miss Ladd. 'She's coming back to live with me, and I'm going to look after her, hand and foot.'
'You're very good,' said Caroline to her in a low voice, 'but——'
'We wouldn't live at Deptford Green,' urged Miss Ladd. 'We'd take a little cottage outside London, and she could do a bit of needlework, and I——'
'D'you think that 'd be wise?' inquired William respectfully. 'What I thought of'—Miss Ladd gave a short ironical laugh—'what I thought of was that the sister coming up in a fortnight's time to marry Dowton will leave, in a manner of speaking, a vacancy down there where—let me finish what I'm saying—where your old mistress, ma'am, is now living.'
'Of course,' said Caroline with sudden interest; 'I never thought of that.'
'You'll have no desire to be at the wedding after what's 'appened,' went on William Finnis, glancing triumphantly across in the dusk at Miss Ladd. 'You can go straight from 'ere to there.'
'There is no one I want to see in London.'
'And your old mistress 'll be as pleased as Punch to have you with her again. If she makes any bones about takin' the little chap——'
'I'm sure she won't.'
'But if she did, why'—here William Finnis was especially thankful that the lamps were not lighted—'why, I've got a bit of money now, and I'd spend every blessed penny of it to see he was well looked after and cared for.'
'I can't part from him,' she said quickly. 'No one must ask me to do that—yet.'
'If I could be any 'elp in regard to Trafalgy——' began Miss Ladd hesitatingly.
'In this particular matter,' interrupted William Finnis sharply, 'you jolly well can't.' Miss Ladd did not answer, and he turned with a more gentle manner to Caroline. 'It'll all come out just as you want it,' he said. 'You write to-night; you let me give you a five-pound note for the fares——'
'Lend, Mr. Finnis.'
'Oh well, lend then. But, any way, you get down there, and you try to forget London and everybody about London.'
'Excepting you,' she said, coming across in the dusk and touching his hand lightly; 'and you,' she added, going to Miss Ladd and standing near her. 'And the memory of my dear, dear, dear husband, who was so good to me——' Her tears choked her.
William Finnis cleared his throat and commenced to put on his gloves. This hint Miss Ladd accepted.
'I'm disappointed,' said Miss Ladd, as she kissed Caroline affectionately; 'but you do what you want to do. And good-bye, dear, and try to bear up.'
'I shall—I shall bear up until I get down to Barnstaple with my old mistress.'
'And if the time should ever come when you think we've acted wrongly or 'arshly, don't forget that we had to do it, and——'
Caroline stopped her. William Finnis held out one big, half-gloved hand; she took it, and bending down, kissed it gratefully. As she did so a tear dropped.
'No, no,' said William Finnis brokenly. 'No—Carrie.'
Miss Ladd, by hurrying, caught up with William Finnis striding on his way towards the station along the main road. A band of cyclists, young men and women, with lighted Chinese lanterns, passed them, and Miss Ladd, red-eyed and rather scant of breath, endeavoured to restore herself to equanimity by delivering a spasmodic and pessimistic lecture on the tendencies of the age. In the station, by great luck, a London train came instantly on their appearance, and carried them away in a compartment where they found seats on opposite sides.
At Chatham a line of four stolid men, in gray, clumsy suits, broad-arrowed, with Scotch caps and gray stockings, their hair and beards clipped down close to similitude, went slowly across the platform, in charge of peak-capped, smartly set-up warders. The four men looked down as they walked; they were linked to each other, and appeared to be journeying from one convict prison to another. William Finnis and Miss Ladd and every other passenger peered in the direction with interest.
'No,' said Miss Ladd in an undertone when the train started again; 'he wouldn't be amongst them. He's got a few months at Wormwood Scrubbs first.'
'We've done what we promised him, at any rate,' William Finnis answered; 'thanks to you,' he added frankly. 'When Elf comes home years hence he must act for himself.'
'You might have backed me up when I was trying to get the dear little chap to live 'long o' me.'
'Cert'nly not,' said William Finnis promptly. 'He's going to keep good company, that youngster is.'
Miss Ladd sighed.
'Ah!' she remarked dolefully, 'people who run straight seem to get all the best of it.'