# A Breaker of Laws/Chapter 2

pp. 22-43.

### CHAPTER II

High Street, Deptford, on the following Saturday morning was bright and alert with people and breaks; women with work to do draped their bare red arms in aprons, and, drawing skirts over their heads, hurried up, glad of any excuse for deferring domestic tasks. Four breaks stood there with yellow tarpaulin roofs, and the most prudent of the workmen's wives and sweethearts had already taken their places and were seated in the shade. On the pavement men awkwardly dressed in suits of black smoked pale cigars and roared welcome to perspiring new arrivals. Alfred Bateson stood on the kerb looking up the street.
'’Ope she ain't mistook the day, William,' remarked Alfred to the man standing near to him.
'What if she has?' growled the other. 'We shall enjoy ourselves the more without her.'
'Ah, Finnis,' said Alfred pityingly, 'you've never known what it is to be gone on a gel.'
'Thanks be!' said William Finnis. 'What's she like?'
'You wait and see her,' answered Alfred proudly. 'She'll make all these other women look silly.'
'I'm runnin' a certain risk, mind you, by lettin' you have them two tickets,'
'So much the better,' said the young man. 'I like risk. It gives a sort of a kind of flavour to en outing. Be 'appy, why don't you, and smile as 'ard as you can.'
'Precious little in this world,' declared Mr. Finnis gloomily, 'to smile about. I never came across such a place.'
'It's about the only one you'll know much of,' said Alfred, 'so you may just as well make the best of it. Have another fusee; your cigar's gone out.'
Two cornet-players arrived, looking rather puffed of eyes and puffed of cheeks, with a general appearance of being always blowing at their instruments, even when these were packed away safely under the coachman's seat. Men learned in horse-flesh stood around the animals and criticised their points acutely in a way that made one astonished that the horses did not turn round and bite. Others came out of the large public-house, wiping their lips and bending down soft brims of hats to shade their eyes from the attentive sun; the women looked at each other narrowly from bonnets to boots, becoming either genial or depressed after the inspection; a new and unexpected pale blue bonnet on a scarlet-faced lady nearly brought tears of envy to the eyes of her intimate friends. One of the cornets was called upon by an Army Reserve man.
'Sound the reveilly,' ordered the Army Reserve man.
As the cornet blared the call to the blue sky between the two rows of shops, men hurried to take their places. Opulent ladies found themselves hauled and lifted and pushed into the breaks, the breaks trembling nervously as they took their seats. Alfred Bateson, on tip-toe and straining his eyes to look over the crowd, was urged by his friend Finnis to take his seat.
'She ain't comin',' prophesied William Finnis, 'and it's jest as well she ain't. Women are only in the way.'
'I want this one to be in my way. If she don't arrive in time I shan't go.'
'Well,' protested Finnis, 'that's a bright idea, upon my word! Who are I goin' to pal with if you stay behind?'
'You'll find someone to talk to,' replied Alfred, still looking anxiously over the heads of the now excited crowd.
'No one that's such good company as you, Elf. You and me can always——'
'’Ere she is!' cried Alfred, delighted. 'Go on and get your seat, and keep two for us.'
He rushed forward, forcing his way through the crowd.
'This way, Keroline. 'Urry!'
'Not too late, am I?' asked the pleasant-faced young woman, panting, as Alfred escorted her back through the division that he had made in the crowd. 'We've been all upset at our house, and this morning everything was hurry-scurry. You must know——'
'Tell us presently,' said Alfred. 'This is our break. Now then, one foot first.'
As he helped her to ascend, he reddened with pride on overhearing a woman in the crowd say to another that she (meaning Caroline) did not look at all dusty—a remark that had a grudging sound, but was, as he knew, intended for generous compliment.
The women eyed the girl as she made her way between them, and then glanced at each other, raising their eyebrows slightly.
'Countrified 'pearance,' whispered a young woman in deep blue sateen. 'It'll be a rare old barney to watch her talk.'
Introduction to the serious Mr. Finnis having been made, the break jerked and started, the crowd cheered, the cornet tore the air with the tune of a comic song. The noise continued up High Street to the Broadway, and shopkeepers, enjoying the truce before the attack that comes later on Saturdays, stood at their doors waving their hands to the joyous departing bean-feasters. At the triangular Broadway business was arrested until the four breaks had gone by; the crowd, following, only gave up their task when the ascent of Blackheath Hill commenced. Glancing round, Alfred saw the German hairdresser winking at him profoundly. 'Begun to think you'd be too late.'
'Should you have been sorry?' asked the bright-eyed young woman, looking up from underneath her hat.
'Course I should. I told Finnis—didn't I, old man?'
'Beg pardon?' said Mr. Finnis.
'I was mentionin' to her that I told you I shouldn't start if she didn't come.'
'I believe,' said William Finnis carefully, 'that you did in course of conversation make some remark or statement to that effect.'
'Fond of the country, Mr. Finnis?' inquired Caroline, with pretty courtesy.
'Can't say,' said that gentleman cautiously, 'that I'm over and above fond of anything.'
'Finnis is what they call a cynic,' remarked Alfred.
'What's that?' she asked.
'Oh, you know,' said Alfred vaguely, 'a chap that goes about cynicking at everything he sees.'
'Oh!' said Caroline, and looked at Mr. Finnis rather doubtfully. 'Do you know Devonshire at all, Mr. Finnis?'
'I know Paddington Station,' growled Mr. Finnis. 'Used to work in the Edg'are Road.'
'That's on the way,' she admitted. 'Now, Alfred, if you stand up, you can see our house. And, oh, I must tell you! The night before last——'
'Got plenty of room?' interrupted Alfred. She nodded. 'Sit a bit closer to me, then.'
'You mustn't put your arm round my waist,' she protested, glancing at the others.
'Whose waist shall I put it round, then?' he demanded.
'Oh, well, since you argue like that, I suppose—— But do let me tell you what happened at our house Thursday night. You must know there were a meeting in our drawin'-room; mistress her were busy, and——'
The girl related the circumstances of the burglary as the breaks drove across the wide open heath, using, in her excitement, quaint Devonshire modes of expression. The other passengers listened eagerly, for crime is ever interesting, and one or two ladies at the end near the driver, who could not hear distinctly, insisted upon the chief facts being repeated to them by those more favourably placed. Alfred alone seemed bored at the recital. He pulled at his necktie; affected to search for something in the straw at the bottom of the break; in his pocket he found the end of a cigar, and relighted it with great precaution, shielding it with his bowler hat.
'Four hundred and fifty pounds' worth,' declared Caroline in conclusion—'four hundred and fifty pounds' worth all gone in one fell swoop.'
'Any clue?' asked the bunch of interested heads near her.
'Not yet,'replied the bright-eyed girl; 'but the police are in hopes. A very gentlemanly, fair-complexioned young man, one of the detectives, told me in confidence, and begged me not to say a word to no one, so don't you let it go any further——'
'Trust us!' murmured the bunch.
'That he were on the man's track, and likely to clap his hand on his shoulder like this——'
Alfred started as Caroline touched his arm.
'At any moment,' she said triumphantly.
'That's what they always say,' remarked the bunch distrustfully.
'He's very sharp, this Mr. Dowton is, though. You should have heard the questions he asked us girls. Was we engaged; was we walking out with anyone; had we ever talked about the house to strangers; had we——'
'A11 this time that we're cacklin',' interrupted Alfred nervously, 'we're losin' the best part of the drive. We shall be out in the country directly, and then there won't be nothin' to see.'
The party, thus reminded, sat around and looked at the houses, waving hands at housemaids who cleaned windows, and aiming cha£f at policemen and other targets. Alfred and Caroline, facing each other, looked into each other's eyes, and Alfred, being very near to her pretty flushed face, kissed her.
'You have got a cheek,' whispered Caroline reproachfully.
'Not to be compared with yourn,' replied Alfred.
An end of town at last; but the end coming reluctantly, and shooting rows of villas out into a meadow here, and a few brand-new shops there, just to warn the country that the policy of encroachment on the part of the greedy Metropolis had been by no means relinquished. White, dusty roads now, and orchards full of apple-trees with astonished branches; slow, thoughtful carts driven by dozing waggoners; old women with red-handkerchiefed heads bent double at their work in the fields; school-children stopping on the powdered green border of the road to chant a monotonous unappropriate appeal:
'’Opper, 'opper, chuck us out a copper,
'Appy, 'appy may ye ever be!'
(which gained some response, although the party was not made up of pickers of hops returning from treasury day); clumps of trees with birds chirrupping madly; hoarse black rooks flying about in a desperate endeavour to find their lost voices; wayside public-houses trying not to appear old, and making up their complexions in the manner of aged belles. At one of these the four breaks stopped, and all the men descended (it being now almost an hour since their last drink), and glasses of frothing, bubbling shandy-gaff were handed up to the ladies that they might have the first sip. Caroline but touched the glass with her lips, whereupon Alfred declared humorously that she was overdoing it, at which Caroline laughed good-temperedly, being, indeed, a happy young woman who found cause for amusement readily, and whose face was as cheering to look upon as the blue, white-flecked sky overhead. Then the joyous procession started again along the dusty roads ladies with black bonnets borrowing newspapers from the driver to screen and keep headgear presentable for the day. Presently Keston Common and a red-bricked hotel with a high flagstaff.
'A quiet strowl round,' ordered a white-waistcoated foreman, 'and then, at two o'clock sharp, grub.'
'We'd better make a note of that, Finnis, old man,' said Alfred, 'or else we shall go and forget all about it.'
'I'll try to think of it,' said Mr. Finnis sarcastically. 'Which way are you making for, you two?'
'For the Common, Mr. Finnis,' said Caroline.
'Any objection,' asked Mr. Finnis, 'to me accompanyin' of you? I don't wish to make myself in the way, but if you've got no serious——'
'I don't mind, Alf.'
'Very well, then,' said Alfred resignedly. 'Walk this side next to me.'
Behold, therefore, the dutiful Finnis walking submissively with the young couple, humming tunes of his own composition under his breath, and endeavouring to appear quite at ease. See Alfred holding Caroline's arm—and, bless my soul! what a plump, engaging little arm it was!—speaking in soft tones, and ignoring the Aunt Sallies, and the roll, bowl, or pitch 'ems, and the shooting of dolls, and both perfectly, perfectly happy. When Alfred kissed her, Mr. Finnis, to show his complete ignorance of the proceeding, immediately became an ardent botanist, and stopped to examine rare weeds and exotic dandelions, rejoining the couple when Caroline had recorded her protest and had put her hat straight.
'Interruptin' you two,' said Mr. Finnis presently, 'but it's time we got back and took our seats in the marquee.'
Near to the marquee a bustling to and fro of white-aproned men encumbered with dishes, of pinafored women carrying washing-baskets filled with plates, the entire regiment being under the command of a stern-faced landlady, who kept the inn close by. Inside the marquee, with its grateful shade, two long white-clothed tables and a narrow one, joining at the end. Up and down the grass flooring waiters and waitresses hurried, so that guests had to dodge them in order to reach the Windsor chairs bearing the number of their ticket. At the centre of the cross-table stood young Barraclough, gripping the lappels of his frock-coat as though fearful of running away, and determined at any cost to prevent himself from decamping until he had delivered his speech. Foremen made an attentive circle near him, asking him with great respect what he thought of Mr. Gladstone's policy.
William Finnis found the three seats, and they sat down at once to prevent misappropriation. The tent was nearly full now of chattering men and women; some of the girls carried cocoanuts which, having been gained for them by their sweethearts, had been presented to them as tangible and useful tokens of amity.
'Silence, please, for grace.'
Grace from the oldest workman: 'Lord, we thank Thee for Thy great mercies. Lord, bless the repast which is this day set before us. Lord, make us thankful, and grant that we may ever think of Thee and praise Thee. Amen.'
The stern-faced hostess at the flapping entrance to the marquee clapped her hands instantly, and said 'Soup!' and the obedient waiters and waitresses went down the tables with deep tureens, filling the plate before each guest. Some hesitation occurring amongst those to whom soup was a foreigner and a stranger, it was here that Caroline became important. That delightful young woman having had the good fortune to live in a house where Society's tricks were known, the etiquette of eating had for her no secrets, so that those on the opposite side and those near to her, including Alfred and Finnis, took her from the soup onwards as their pilot through the rocky, perilous voyage. Such was their trust in her that when, on the stern-faced hostess announcing 'Biled mutton,' and the dish being served, Caroline picked out the capers with her fork and ranged them at the side of her plate, a dozen instantly followed her example, trembling to think how near they had been to disaster.
'Enjoyin' yourself, dear?' asked the proud Alfred.
'Yes, thank you, Alf. It's nice to be with you.'
'’Ave some more roast beef,' he suggested generously.
'I couldn't, reely.'
'You ain't 'alf a eater. Look at 'em opposite.'
'I had a good lunch before I started,' said Caroline sedately. 'There's always ample at our place.'
'Worse things than being in service,' said Mr. Finnis behind Alfred's shoulders. 'If gels knew when they was well off, they'd never——'
'Get on with your food, Finnis. You're better at eatin' than you are at talkin'.'
'It's an unladylike question to ask, I s'pose,' said Caroline modestly, 'but 'ave you got a good berth in this firm, Alf?'
'Him!' said Finnis, smarting under the late interruption. 'Why, Alf Bateson hasn't got——'
'If you can't keep your head shut,' said Alfred definitely, 'I shall most certainly dot you one. D' y' 'ear?'
'Yes,' said William Finnis meekly, 'I 'ear,'
'I must tell mistress all about to-day when I get home,' said the young woman. 'She'll want to know every blessed thing.'
'She seems a bit of a busybody,' said Alfred, spinning the salt-cellar. 'I shall never forget her the other night.'
'Don't upset the salt, dear,' begged the girl; 'it is so unlucky. And what do you mean by saying you'll never forget mistress? You've never seen her.'
'I mean to say,' he said hastily, 'I shall never forget you.'
'You mean that?'
'I mean it,' he declared, 'straight.'
'What makes me feel so glad,' she said in an undertone, and glancing at Mr. Finnis to make sure that the stolid gentleman was not listening—'what makes me feel so glad, and what'll please my sisters down at Barnstaple, is that you're such a good, hard-workin' honest——'
'So long as a chap gets a livin',' said Alfred awkwardly, 'it don't matter a rap how he gets it.'
'Ah!' remarked the girl acutely, 'that's your fun. You know as well as I do that——'
'Order, please!' called out the white-waistcoated foreman, 'order for speechifyin'.'
Tall young Barraclough, rising nervously, proposed 'The Queen!' and it was only then that Alfred recognised him as Inspector MacDonogh's companion. The shrill tones of women mingled with the bass voices of men in a verse from the National Anthem. After a pause and a few inaudible words from the oldest workman, young Barraclough arranged his notes and, fixing his pince-nez, rose to acknowledge the toast, 'The Firm. May it flourish, root and branch!' At this there was a great clattering of spoons against plates, and the white-waistcoated foreman distinguished himself from all the other foremen (giving them at the same time cause for jealousy) by rising and crying for three cheers for Master Arthur. These cheers Master Arthur could, it seemed, have dispensed with, for they caused his pince-nez to fall and his notes to flutter, with the result that he began his speech in the middle.
'From the argument I have already laid down,' commenced Master Arthur, 'you will have seen that just as capital is of little use alone, labah also——'
And had to resume his seat in order to rearrange the slips of paper.
'Pretend to be faint,' whispered Alfred.
'But I'm feeling as well as well.'
'Do as I tell you,' he commanded.
Caroline obeyed, and Alfred and Finnis conducted her carefully down the aisle between the two white-clothed tables. One or two women offered good-naturedly to come out with them, but Caroline assured them that she would be all right as soon as she found herself in the open. Which indeed proved to be the case.
'In the absence of my father,' they heard the tall young man say in his Oxford Union voice, 'the duty devolves upon me of asking your attention for a brief half-hour whilst I consider the question, first of commerce generally; second, the obligations of capital towards labah; thirdly, the correct attitude of labah towards capital. Let me premise by saying——'
'You don't want to hear that rot, Finnis,' said Alfred.
'I ought to want,' replied Mr. Finnis dubiously.
'Fresh air 'll do me and Keroline a lot more good.'
'Seems rather like being unfair,' urged Caroline. 'Mr. Dowton, the detective, was saying yesterday morning——'
'Give that chap a rest,' begged Alfred. 'I'm tired of 'earing about him.'
'If you two ain't going back,' declared Mr. Finnis, 'I'll take my oath I ain't.'
'I took the precaution,' said Alfred, 'to pinch 'alf a dozen smokes out of the box when it came round. 'Ave one?'
'My word!' said William Finnis, with admiration. 'If you ain't a blooming masterpiece.'
The two walked some distance to a wood, Mr. Finnis following a yard behind, and in the wood they sat down near a tree which bore a historic inscription. Caroline was rather well versed on the subject of slavery, because her mistress had rehearsed speeches on the subject to her maids before addressing public audiences on the subject; and Alfred listened to her admiringly, whilst Mr. Finnis, seated on the opposite side of the pathway, smoked a cigar stuck vertically in a long meerschaum tube chastely ornamented with the figure of a lady. When Caroline had finished, Mr. Finnis asked a riddle, and Alfred sang a humorous song about a lodger; the last verse of this made Caroline hit him quite hard with her handkerchief; she declared that he was really too dreadful for anything, and that she had a good mind to run straight home at once. On this there was much good-tempered scrambling, at all of which Mr. Finnis, as representing decorum, assisted by looking at a piece of bracken with an intense knowledge-seeking manner, suggesting that for a space he was far removed from knowledge of near events.
Presently Alfred, feeling that some courtesy was due to his friend, challenged him to jump, and Caroline acted as umpire; and Alfred won the threepence, not because he jumped further than Finnis, but because he contrived with great adroitness to shift the handkerchief. Then Mr. Finnis found a hard apple in his pocket, and with this, whilst the main body of bean-feasters were having clumsy, half-bemused games of cricket and of Aunt Sally, the three had an admirable game of catch, the rule being that every time Caroline missed the ball she had to kiss the gentleman who had thrown it; and as Alfred always sent her most difficult catches, and as Mr. Finnis always shyly transferred his rights to Alfred, there ensued quite a lot of friendly embracing between the two, so that Finnis, having now become tired of botanical research, was forced at each scene of this kind to stoop and untie or retie his shoelace.
Later, when the blue sky became flecked with grey little clouds, and the sun with a final burst retired after a hard day's work, came the return home. The bean-feasters were not, perhaps, all sober, but they were certainly all happy; and they took with them into the breaks large branches of trees and big bouquets of flowers as samples of the country for information of neighbours at home. The white-waistcoated foreman slept in charge of an indignant little wife near to Alfred, waking now and again when Alfred shouted to him humorously; for the party on their uproarious way home required a butt, and the sleepy foreman made the best target possible. Alfred took charge of the shooting-party, and at good shots scarlet-faced women laughed hysterically and men smiled.
'Look 'ere,' said Alfred to the foreman opposite, seated with his chin resting on his white waistcoat; '’old up whilst I talk sense.'
'Three cheers for firm,' said the foreman sleepily. 'Ip-'ip-'ip——'
'Be quiet, you silly thing!' said his wife, 'making yourself a laughing-stock before everybody.'
'Who called me laugh'n'-stock?' demanded the foreman, awakening. 'Who did it? Show me the man that dared——'
'It was your wife!' shouted the others.
'Then,' said the foreman handsomely, 'give us good kiss, old gel.'
'I'll give you a good smack,' replied the little woman, bridling, 'if you don't sit up and behave.'
'I liked that speech of yours, guvner,' remarked Alfred. 'The one after dinner, I mean, where you talked 'bout kepital and labour.'
'Did I make speech 'bout kepital and labour?' asked the foreman weakly. 'Thought 'twas Mas'r Arthur.'
'No, no,' said the other. 'It was you made the speech. Don't you remember speaking for 'alf a hower?'
'Did I?' The foreman smiled foolishly. 'I'd forgot. I'm such a sill' fool.' He dozed for a few seconds, and then started up suddenly. 'Now then,' he said, with great fierceness, 'who called me a sill' fool?'
The breaks went along the dark roads silently now. The tired cornets played only in a gusty way at intermittent periods; now and again a burst of singing came from one of the other conveyances. The Chinese lanterns swayed at the side of each break, illuminating mildly the flushed faces of the bean-feasters. A turn in the road sent the white-waistcoated foreman into Caroline's lap; Alfred and William Finnis bowled him back sharply to his place.
'’Pologize to the young lady this minute,' ordered his infuriated little wife. '’Pon my word! you've got no more manners than nothing at all. I'll never go out with you again!'
'Oh, fair dove! Oh, fond dove!' said the foreman pathetically, 'say not so. Break not thy George's loving 'eart in twain.'
'Well, then,' said the little wife, mollified, 'pull yourself together, do, and beg the lady's pardon.'
'Madam,' said the foreman, taking off his hat tipsily, 'a thousand humble pardons I crave. In'erduce me to your faithful, fond, and 'fectionate husband.'
'I'm the gentleman in question,' said Alfred; 'leastways, I'm going to be so in a few weeks' time.'
'Alf dear,' whispered the girl delightedly, 'do you mean that?'
'I do,' he replied.
'Then, all I can say is,' remarked the foreman, 'may 'appiness travel for ever with thee; sunshine be with thee wherever thou be. There you are!' he added proudly, 'beat that if you can.'
'Treat, isn't he?' said Alfred to the amused bean-feasters. 'What I call a reg'lar old human document.'
'’Old my hat!' cried the foreman explosively, '’old my coat! You 'eard what he called me?'
'What did I call you?'asked Alfred,
'Never you mind what it was!' shouted the man furiously. 'I'm agoin' to make you prove it. I'm going to speak up.'
'You're going to sit down,' commanded his little wife.
'I'll pay him out for it!' cried the enraged foreman; 'I'll mark him! He shan't stay in the works after to-morrow, whoever he is. I'll out him, the——!'
They were on the border of Blackheath. William Finnis called to the driver; the break was stopped and the foreman fell. Alfred assisted Caroline to step out, and Mr. Finnis, without waiting for an invitation, followed; the bean-feasters shouted good-night to them, and the break went on. Alfred put his arm around Caroline's waist, and started across the Heath in the direction of her mistress's house, Mr. Finnis following in the rear.
'Fancy you calling the silly old man a human document!' said the amused Caroline. 'Why, that's one of mistress's sayings. Where did you pick it up, Alf dear?'
'I know a lot of words like that,' said Alfred. 'Haven't you got a nice small waist!'
'Hush!' she said, 'Mr. Finnis is only just behind.'
'He don't count.'
'But he might listen.'
'I won't come further,' said Alfred, as they neared the gate. 'You don't want any of 'em to see me, I dare say. Going back to what we was talking about, how'd it be for you and me to get married in a month's time?'
'Shall we?' said Caroline shyly.
'We can easy make all the arrangements,' said Alfred.
They stood silent for a minute. Mr. Finnis turned his head and hummed a tune to the Heath.
'Alf dear!'
'Yes, Keroline.'
'Want to tell you something. I—I do love you so much.'
She ran away quickly to the gate and disappeared. Alfred Bateson fixed his hands deep in the pockets of his coat and Mr. Finnis and he walked away silently down Blackheath Hill, over the bridge to the Broadway. They said no word to each other until they reached High Street, where, the four breaks having arrived, the white-waistcoated foreman was dancing, with much solemnity, a Scotch reel, hampered by his little wife, who pulled hard the while at his jacket.
'Finnis, old man,' said Alfred seriously, 'I'm going to turn over a new leaf.'
'Time you did,' agreed Mr. Finnis.
A woman touched Alfred's shoulder, and he turned.
'Alf,' whispered Miss Ladd hurriedly, 'come down to the Green this minute. Something fresh on. He wants you.'
'I don't want him,' said Alfred shortly. 'Tell Ladd again from me I'm going to give all that kind of bisness the chuck.'
The hard-faced woman looked at him curiously as she retwisted her back-hair into a knot.
'But can you?' she said.