I sometimes met David in public
places such as the Kensington
Gardens, where he lorded it surrounded
by his suite and wearing the
blank face and glass eyes of
all carriage-people. On these
occasions I always stalked by,
meditating on higher things,
though Mary seemed to think me
very hardhearted, and Irene,
who had become his nurse (I forget
how, but fear I had something
to do with it), ran after me
with messages, as, would I not
call and see him in his home
at twelve o'clock, at which moment,
it
seemed, he was at his best.
No, I would not.
"He says tick-tack to the clock," Irene
said, trying to snare me.
"Pooh!" said
I.
"Other little 'uns jest says
'tick-tick,'" she told me, with
a flush of pride.
"I prefer 'tick-tick,'" I
said, whereat she departed
in dudgeon.
Had they had the sense to wheel
him behind a tree and leave him,
I would have looked, but as they
lacked it, I decided to wait
until he could walk, when it
would be more easy to waylay
him. However, he was a cautious
little gorbal who, after many
threats to rise, always seemed
to come to the conclusion that
he might do worse than remain
where he was, and when he had
completed his first year I lost
patience with him.
"When I was his age," I said
to Irene, "I was running about." I
consulted them casually about
this matter at the club, and
they had all been running about
at a year old.
I made this
nurse the following offer:
If she would bring the
dilatory boy to my rooms and
leave him there for half an hour
I would look at him. At first
Mary, to whom the offer was passed
on, rejected it with hauteur,
but presently she wavered, and
the upshot was that Irene, looking
scornful and anxious, arrived
one day with the perambulator.
Without casting eyes on its occupant,
I pointed Irene to the door: "In
half-an-hour," I said.
She begged
permission to remain, and promised
to turn her back,
and so on, but I was obdurate,
and she then delivered herself
of a passionately affectionate
farewell to her charge, which
was really all directed against
me, and ended with these powerful
words: "And if he takes off your
socks, my pretty, may he be blasted
for evermore."
"I shall probably take off
her socks," I said carelessly
to this.
Her socks. Do you see what
made Irene scream?
"It is a girl, is it not?" I
asked, thus neatly depriving
her of coherent speech as I pushed
her to the door. I then turned
round to--to begin, and, after
reflecting, I began by sitting
down behind the hood of his carriage.
My plan was to accustom him to
his new surroundings before bursting
on the scene myself.
I had various thoughts. Was
he awake? If not, better let
him wake naturally. Half-an-hour
was a long time. Why had I not
said quarter-of-an-hour? Anon,
I saw that if I was to sit there
much longer I should have said
an hour, so I whistled softly;
but he took no notice. I remember
trying to persuade myself that
if I never budged till Irene's
return, it would be an amusing
triumph over Mary. I coughed,
but still there was no response.
Abruptly, the fear smote me.
Perhaps he is not there.
I rose hastily, and was striding
forward, when I distinctly noticed
a covert movement somewhere near
the middle of the carriage, and
heard a low gurgle, which was
instantly suppressed. I stopped
dead at this sharp reminder that
I was probably not the only curious
person in the room, and for a
long moment we both lay low,
after which, I am glad to remember,
I made the first advance. Earlier
in the day I had arranged some
likely articles on a side- table:
my watch and chain, my bunch
of keys, and two war-medals for
plodding merit, and with a glance
at these (as something to fall
back upon), I stepped forward
doggedly, looking (I fear now)
a little like a professor of
legerdemain. David was sitting
up, and he immediately fixed
his eyes on me.
It would ill become me to attempt
to describe this dear boy to
you, for of course I know really
nothing about children, so I
shall say only this, that I thought
him very like what Timothy would
have been had he ever had a chance.
I to whom David had been brought
for judgment, now found myself
being judged by him, and this
rearrangement of the pieces seemed
so natural that I felt no surprise;
I felt only a humble craving
to hear him signify that I would
do. I have stood up before other
keen judges and deceived them
all, but I made no effort to
deceive David; I wanted to, but
dared not. Those unblinking eyes
were too new to the world to
be hooded by any of its tricks.
In them I saw my true self. They
opened for me that pedler's pack
of which I have made so much
ado, and I found that it was
weighted less with pretty little
sad love-tokens than with ignoble
thoughts and deeds and an unguided
life. I looked dejectedly at
David, not so much, I think,
because I had such a sorry display
for him, as because I feared
he would not have me in his service.
I seemed to know that he was
making up his mind once and for
all.
And in the end he smiled, perhaps
only because I looked so frightened,
but the reason scarcely mattered
to me, I felt myself a fine fellow
at once. It was a long smile,
too, opening slowly to its fullest
extent (as if to let me in),
and then as slowly shutting.
Then, to divert me from sad
thoughts, or to rivet our friendship,
or because the time had come
for each of us to show the other
what he could do, he immediately
held one foot high in the air.
This made him slide down the
perambulator, and I saw at once
that it was very necessary to
replace him. But never before
had I come into such close contact
with a child; the most I had
ever done was, when they were
held up to me, to shut my eyes
and kiss a vacuum. David, of
course, though no doubt he was
eternally being replaced, could
tell as little as myself how
it was contrived, and yet we
managed it between us quite easily.
His body instinctively assumed
a certain position as I touched
him, which compelled my arms
to fall into place, and the thing
was done. I felt absurdly pleased,
but he was already considering
what he should do next.
He again held up his foot,
which had a gouty appearance
owing to its being contained
in a dumpy little worsted sock,
and I thought he proposed to
repeat his first performance,
but in this I did him an injustice,
for, unlike Porthos, he was one
who scorned to do the same feat
twice; perhaps, like the conjurors,
he knew that the audience were
more on the alert the second
time.
I discovered that he wanted
me to take off his sock!
Remembering Irene's dread warnings
on this subject I must say that
I felt uneasy. Had he heard her,
and was he daring me? And what
dire thing could happen if the
sock was removed? I sought to
reason with him, but he signed
to me to look sharp, and I removed
the sock. The part of him thus
revealed gave David considerable
pleasure, but I noticed, as a
curious thing, that he seemed
to have no interest in the other
foot.
However, it
was not there merely to be
looked at, for after giving
me a glance which said "Now observe!" he
raised his bare foot and ran
his mouth along the toes, like
one playing on a barbaric instrument.
He then tossed his foot aside,
smiled his long triumphant smile
and intimated that it was now
my turn to do something. I thought
the best thing I could do would
be to put his sock on him again,
but as soon as I tried to do
so I discovered why Irene had
warned me so portentously against
taking it off. I should say that
she had trouble in socking him
every morning.
Nevertheless I managed to slip
it on while he was debating what
to do with my watch. I bitterly
regretted that I could do nothing
with it myself, put it under
a wine-glass, for instance, and
make it turn into a rabbit, which
so many people can do. In the
meantime David, occupied with
similar thoughts, very nearly
made it disappear altogether,
and I was thankful to be able
to pull it back by the chain.
"Haw-haw-haw!"
Thus he commented on his new
feat, but it was also a reminder
to me, a trifle cruel, that he
was not my boy. After all, you
see, Mary had not given him the
whole of his laugh. The watch
said that five and twenty minutes
had passed, and looking out I
saw Irene at one end of the street
staring up at my window, and
at the other end Mary's husband
staring up at my window, and
beneath me Mary staring up at
my window. They had all broken
their promise.
I returned to David, and asked
him in a low voice whether he
would give me a kiss. He shook
his head about six times, and
I was in despair. Then the smile
came, and I knew that he was
teasing me only. He now nodded
his head about six times.
This was the prettiest of all
his exploits. It was so pretty
that, contrary to his rule, he
repeated it. I had held out my
arms to him, and first he shook
his head, and then after a long
pause (to frighten me), he nodded
it.
But no sooner was he in my
arms than I seemed to see Mary
and her husband and Irene bearing
down upon my chambers to take
him from me, and acting under
an impulse I whipped him into
the perambulator and was off
with it without a license down
the back staircase. To the Kensington
Gardens we went; it may have
been Manitoba we started for,
but we arrived at the Kensington
Gardens, and it had all been
so unpremeditated and smartly
carried out that I remember clapping
my hand to my head in the street,
to make sure that I was wearing
a hat.
I watched David to see what
he thought of it, and he had
not yet made up his mind. Strange
to say, I no longer felt shy.
I was grown suddenly indifferent
to public comment, and my elation
increased when I discovered that
I was being pursued. They drew
a cordon round me near Margot
Meredith's tree, but I broke
through it by a strategic movement
to the south, and was next heard
of in the Baby's Walk. They held
both ends of this passage, and
then thought to close on me,
but I slipped through their fingers
by doubling up Bunting's Thumb
into Picnic Street. Cowering
at St. Govor's Well, we saw them
rush distractedly up the Hump,
and when they had crossed to
the Round Pond we paraded gaily
in the Broad Walk, not feeling
the tiniest bit sorry for anybody.
Here, however, it gradually
came into David's eyes that,
after all, I was a strange man,
and they opened wider and wider,
until they were the size of my
medals, and then, with the deliberation
that distinguishes his smile,
he slowly prepared to howl. I
saw all his forces gathering
in his face, and I had nothing
to oppose to them; it was an
unarmed man against a regiment.
Even then I did not chide him.
He could not know that it was
I who had dropped the letter.
I think I must have stepped
over a grateful fairy at that
moment, for who else could have
reminded me so opportunely of
my famous manipulation of the
eyebrows, forgotten since I was
in the fifth form? I alone of
boys had been able to elevate
and lower my eyebrows separately;
when the one was climbing my
forehead the other descended
it, like the two buckets in the
well.
Most diffidently did I call
this accomplishment to my aid
now, and immediately David checked
his forces and considered my
unexpected movement without prejudice.
His face remained as it was,
his mouth open to emit the howl
if I did not surpass expectation.
I saw that, like the fair-minded
boy he has always been, he was
giving me my chance, and I worked
feverishly, my chief fear being
that, owing to his youth, he
might not know how marvellous
was this thing I was doing. It
is an appeal to the intellect,
as well as to the senses, and
no one on earth can do it except
myself.
When I paused for a moment
exhausted he signed gravely,
with unchanged face, that though
it was undeniably funny, he had
not yet decided whether it was
funny enough, and, taking this
for encouragement, at it I went
once more, till I saw his forces
wavering, when I sent my left
eyebrow up almost farther than
I could bring it back, and with
that I had him, the smile broke
through the clouds.
In the midst of my hard-won
triumph I heard cheering.
I had been vaguely conscious
that we were not quite alone,
but had not dared to look away
from David; I looked now, and
found to my annoyance that I
was the centre of a deeply interested
gathering of children. There
was, in particular, one vulgar
little street- boy--
However, if that damped me
in the moment of victory, I was
soon to triumph gloriously in
what began like defeat. I had
sat me down on one of the garden-seats
in the Figs, with one hand resting
carelessly on the perambulator,
in imitation of the nurses, it
was so pleasant to assume the
air of one who walked with David
daily, when to my chagrin I saw
Mary approaching with quick stealthy
steps, and already so near me
that flight would have been ignominy.
Porthos, of whom she had hold,
bounded toward me, waving his
traitorous tail, but she slowed
on seeing that I had observed
her. She had run me down with
my own dog.
I have not mentioned that Porthos
had for some time now been a
visitor at her house, though
never can I forget the shock
I got the first time I saw him
strolling out of it like an afternoon
caller. Of late he has avoided
it, crossing to the other side
when I go that way, and rejoining
me farther on, so I conclude
that Mary's husband is painting
him.
I waited her coming stiffly,
in great depression of spirits,
and noted that her first attentions
were for David, who, somewhat
shabbily, gave her the end of
a smile which had been begun
for me. It seemed to relieve
her, for what one may call the
wild maternal look left her face,
and trying to check little gasps
of breath, the result of unseemly
running, she signed to her confederates
to remain in the background,
and turned curious eyes on me.
Had she spoken as she approached,
I am sure her words would have
been as flushed as her face,
but now her mouth puckered as
David's does before he sets forth
upon his smile, and I saw that
she thought she had me in a parley
at last.
"I could not help being a little
anxious," she said craftily,
but I must own, with some sweetness.
I merely raised my hat, and
at that she turned quickly to
David--I cannot understand why
the movement was so hasty--and
lowered her face to his. Oh,
little trump of a boy! Instead
of kissing her, he seized her
face with one hand and tried
to work her eyebrows up and down
with the other. He failed, and
his obvious disappointment in
his mother was as nectar to me.
"I don't understand what you
want, darling," said she in distress,
and looked at me inquiringly,
and I understood what he wanted,
and let her see that I understood.
Had I been prepared to converse
with her, I should have said
elatedly that, had she known
what he wanted, still she could
not have done it, though she
had practised for twenty years.
I tried to express all this
by another movement of my hat.
It caught David's eye and at
once he appealed to me with the
most perfect confidence. She
failed to see what I did, for
I shyly gave her my back, but
the effect on David was miraculous;
he signed to her to go, for he
was engaged for the afternoon.
What would you have done then,
reader? I didn't. In my great
moment I had strength of character
to raise my hat for the third
time and walk away, leaving the
child to judge between us. I
walked slowly, for I knew I must
give him time to get it out,
and I listened eagerly, but that
was unnecessary, for when it
did come it was a very roar of
anguish. I turned my head, and
saw David fiercely pushing the
woman aside, that he might have
one last long look at me. He
held out his wistful arms and
nodded repeatedly, and I faltered,
but my glorious scheme saved
me, and I walked on. It was a
scheme conceived in a flash,
and ever since relentlessly pursued,
to burrow under Mary's influence
with the boy, expose her to him
in all her vagaries, take him
utterly from her and make him
mine.
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