R. M. Ballantyne
Rivers of Ice
Chapter One.
The Rovers Return
On a certain summer morning, about the middle of the present century, a big bluff man, of seafaring aspect, found himself sauntering in a certain street near London Bridge. He was a man of above fifty, but looked under forty in consequence of the healthful vigour of his frame, the freshness of his saltwater face, and the blackness of his shaggy hair.
Although his gait, pilot-cloth coat, and pocketed hands proclaimed him a sailor, there were one or two contradictory points about him. A huge beard and moustache savoured more of the diggings than the deep, and a brown wide-awake with a prodigiously broad brim suggested the backwoods.
Pausing at the head of one of those narrow lanes whichrunning down between warehouses, filthy little rag and bone shops, and low poverty-stricken dwellingsappear to terminate their career, not unwillingly, in the Thames, the sailor gazed before him with nautical earnestness for a few seconds, then glanced at the corner house for a name; found no name; cast his eyes up to the strip of blue sky overhead, as if for inspiration; obtained none; planted his legs wide apart as if he had observed a squall coming, and expected the lane to lurch heavilywrinkled his eyebrows, and pursed his lips.
Lost yer bearins, cappn? exclaimed a shrill pert voice at his side.
The seaman looked down, and beheld a small boy with a head like a disorderly door-mat, and garments to match. He stood in what may be styled an imitative attitude, with his hands thrust into his ragged pockets, his little legs planted wide apart, his cap thrust well back on his head, and his eyebrows wrinkled. He also pursed his lips to such an extent that they resembled a rosebud in a dirty bush.
Yes, imp, replied the seamanhe meant to have said impudence, but stopped at the first syllable as being sufficiently appropriateyes, imp, I have lost my bearings, and Ill give you a copper if youll help me to find em.
Wot sort o copper? demanded the urchin, theres three sorts of em, you know, in this ere kingdomwhich appears to be a queendom at presenttheres a farding and a hapenny and a penny. I mention it, cappn, he added apologetically, in case you dont know, for you look as if youd come from furrin parts.
The seamans look of surprise melted into a broad grin of amusement while this speech was being fluently delivered. At its conclusion he pulled out a penny and held it up.
Well, it aint much, said the small boy, and I aint used to hire myself out so cheap. However, as you seem to be raither poorly off, I dont mind if I lend you a hand for that. Only, please, dont mention it among your friends, as it would praps lower their opinion of you, dyou see? Now then wot dyou want to know?
To this the cappn, still smiling at the small boys precocious insolence, replied that he was in search of an old woman who dwelt in a small court styled Grubbs Court, so he was told, which lay somewhere in that salubrious neighbourhood, and asked if he, the imp, knew of such a place.
Knows of it? I should think I does. Wy, I lives there. Its right down at the foot o this ere lane, an a wery sweet ristocratik spot it isquite a perninsular, bein land, leastwise mud, amost surrounded by water, the air bein ighly condoosive to the ealth of rats, likewise cats. As to old women, theres raither a broad sprinklin of em in the court, rangin from the ages of seventy to a hundred an twenty, more or less, an youll take some time to go over em all, cappn, if you dont know your old womans name.
Her name is Roby, said the seaman.
O, Roby? ah, returned the small boy, looking sedately at the ground, let me seeyes, thats the name of the old ooman, I think, wot angs out in the cabin, right-and stair, top floor, end of the passage, were most wisiters flattens their noses, by consekince of there bein no light, and a step close to the door which inwariably trips em up. Most wisiters to that old ooman begins their acquaintance with her by knocking at her door with their noses instead of their knuckles. We calls her place the cabin, cause the windows is raither small, and overangs the river.
Well then, my lad, said the seaman, clap a stopper on your tongue, if you can, and heave ahead.
All right, cappn, returned the small boy, foller me, an dont be frightened. Port your helm a bit here, theres a quicksand in the middle o the trackso, steady!
Avoiding a large pool of mud with which the head of the lane was garnished, and which might have been styled the bathing, not to say wallowing, quarters of the Grubbs Court juveniles, the small boy led the bluff seaman towards the river without further remark, diverging only once from the straight road for a few seconds, for the purpose of making a furious rush at a sleeping cat with a yell worthy of a Cherokee savage, or a locomotive whistle; a slight pleasantry which had the double effect of shooting the cat through space in glaring convulsions, and filling the small boys mind with the placidity which naturally follows a great success.
The lane presented this peculiarity, that the warehouses on its left side became more and more solid and vast and tall as they neared the river, while the shops and dwellings on its right became poorer, meaner, and more diminutive in the same direction, as if there were some mysterious connection between them, which involved the adversity of the one in exact proportion to the prosperity of the other. Children and cats appeared to be the chief day-population of the place, and these disported themselves among the wheels of enormous waggons, and the legs of elephantine horses with an impunity which could only have been the result of life-long experience.
The seaman was evidently unaccustomed to such scenes, for more than once during the short period of his progress down the lane, he uttered an exclamation of alarm, and sprang to the rescue of those large babies which are supposed to have grown sufficiently old to become nursing mothers to smaller babiesacts which were viewed with a look of pity by the small boy, and called from him the encouraging observations, Keep your mind easy, cappn; theyre all right, bless you; the hosses knows em, and wouldnt urt em on no account.
This is Grubbs Court, said the boy, turning sharply to the right and passing through a low archway.
Thank ee, lad, said the seaman, giving him a sixpence.
The small boy opened his eyes very wide indeed, exclaiming, Hallo! I say, cappn, wots this? at the same time, however, putting the coin in his pocket with an air which plainly said, Whether youve made a mistake or not, you neednt expect to get it back again.
Evidently the seaman entertained no such expectations, for he turned away and became absorbed in the scene around him.
It was not cheering. Though the summer sun was high and powerful, it failed to touch the broken pavement of Grubbs Court, or to dry up the moisture which oozed from it and crept up the walls of the surrounding houses. Everything was very old, very rotten, very crooked, and very dirty. The doorways round the court were wide openalways openin some cases, because of there being no doors; in other cases, because the tenements to which they led belonged to a variety of families, largely composed of children who could not, even on tiptoe, reach or manipulate door-handles. Nursing mothers of two feet high were numerous, staggering about with nurslings of a foot and a half long. A few of the nurslings, temporarily abandoned by the premature mothers, lay sprawlingin some cases squallingon the moist pavement, getting over the ground like large snails, and leaving slimy tracks behind them. Little boys, of the City Arab type, were sprinkled here and there, and one or two old women sat on door-steps contemplating the scene, or conversing with one or two younger women. Some of the latter were busy washing garments so dirty, that the dirty water of old Father Thames seemed quite a suitable purifier.