JOAN HASTE, H. RIDER HAGGARD [free ereaders TXT] 📗

of which she left carefully ajar.

Joan could not in the least understand what this odd little person was driving at, nor who her two babies might be, so she sat still and waited. Presently, from the other side of the door, there came a sound as though several people were clapping their hands and snapping their fingers. A pause followed, and the door was pushed a little farther open, apparently that those on the farther side might look into the room where she was sitting. Then there was more clapping and snapping, and presently Mrs. Bird re-entered with a smile upon her kind little face.

"They like you, my dear," she said, nodding her head--"both of them. Indeed, Sal says that she would much prefer you as a lodger to the late accountant."

"They? Who?" asked Joan.

"Well, my dear, when I spoke of surroundings you may have guessed that mine were peculiar; and so they are--very peculiar, though harmless. The people in the next room are my husband and my daughter; he is paralytic, and they are both of them deaf and dumb."

"Oh, how sad!" said Joan.

"Yes, it is sad; but it might have been much sadder, for I assure you they are not at all unhappy. Now, if I had not married Jim it would have been otherwise, for then he must have gone to the workhouse, or at the best into a home, and of course there would have been no Sal to love us both. But come in, and you shall be introduced to them." And Mrs. Bird lit a candle and led the way into the small dark room.

Here Joan saw a curious sight. Seated in an armchair, his withered legs supported on a footstool, was an enormous man of about forty, with flaxen hair and beard, mild blue eyes, and a face like an infant's, that wore a perpetual smile. Sometimes the smile was more and sometimes it was less, but it was always there. Standing by his side was a sweet and delicate-faced little girl of about twelve; her eyes also were blue and her hair flaxen, but her face was alight with so much fire and intelligence that Joan found it hard to believe that she could be deaf and dumb. Mrs. Bird pointed to her, and struck her hands together this way and that so swiftly that Joan could scarcely follow their movements, whereon the two of them nodded vigorously in answer, and Sal, advancing, held out her hand in greeting. Joan shook it, and was led by her to where Mr. Bird was sitting, with his arm also outstretched.

"There, my dear--now you are introduced," said Mrs. Bird. "This is my family. I have supported them for many many years, thanks be to God; and I hope that I have managed that, if I should die before them, there will be no need for them to go to the workhouse; so you see I have much to be grateful for. Though they are deaf and dumb, you must not think them stupid, for they can do lots of things--read and write and carve. Oh, we are a very happy family, I can assure you; though at times I want somebody to talk to, and that is one of the reasons why I like to have a lodger--not that the late accountant was much use in that respect, for he was a very gloomy man, though right-thinking. And now that you have seen the surroundings, do you think that you would wish to stay here for a week on trial?"

"I should like nothing better," answered Joan.

"Very well, then. Will you come upstairs and see your rooms and wash your hands for supper? I will call the girl, Maria, to help you carry up the box."

Presently Maria arrived. She was a strong, awkward-looking damsel of fifteen, "a workinghouse girl," Mrs. Bird explained, but, like everything else in that house, scrupulously clean in appearance. With her assistance the box was dragged upon the narrow stairs, and Joan found herself in the apartments of the late accountant. They were neat little rooms, separated from each other by double doors, and furnished with a horsehair sofa, a round deal table with a stained top, and some old chairs with curly backs and rep-covered seats.

"They look a little untidy," said Mrs. Bird, eyeing these chairs; "but the fact is that the late accountant was a careless man, and often upset his coffee over them. However, I will run you up some chintz covers in no time, and for the sofa too if you like. And now do you think that the rooms will do? You see here is a good cupboard and a chest of drawers."

"Very nicely, thank you," answered Joan. "I never expected a sitting-room all to myself."

"I am glad that you are pleased. And now I will leave you. Supper will be ready in half an hour--fried eggs and bacon and bread and butter. But if you like anything else I dare say that I can get it for you."

Joan hastened to assure her that eggs and bacon were her favourite food; and, having satisfied herself that there was water in the jug and a clean towel, Mrs. Bird departed, leaving her to unpack. Half an hour later Joan went down and partook of the eggs and bacon. It was an odd meal, with a deaf-and-dumb child pouring out the tea, a deaf-and-dumb giant smiling at her perpetually across the table, and her little hostess attending to them all, and keeping up a double fire of conversation, one with her lips for Joan's benefit, and one with her head and hands for that of her two "babies."

After supper the things were cleared away; and having first inquired whether Joan objected to the smell of smoke, Mrs. Bird filled a large china pipe for her husband, and brought him some queer-shaped tools, with which he began to carve the head of a walking-stick.

"I told you that he was very clever," she said; "do you know, he sometimes makes as much as four shillings a week. He gives me the money, and thinks that I spend it, but I don't; not a farthing. I put it all into the Savings Bank for him and Sally. There is nearly forty pounds there on that account alone. There, do you know what he is saying?"

Joan shook her head.

"He says that he is going to carve a likeness of you. He thinks that you have a beautiful head for a walking-stick. Oh! don't be afraid; he will do it capitally. Look, here is the late accountant. I keep it in memory of him," and Mrs. Bird produced a holly stick, on the knob of which appeared a dismal, but most lifelike, countenance.

"He wasn't very handsome," said Joan.

"No, he wasn't handsome--only right-thinking; and that is why Jim would like to carve you, because you see you are handsome, though whether or no you are right-thinking remains to be proved."

Joan smiled; there was something very quaint about the little lady.

"I hope that Mr. Bird does not want me to sit to him to-night," she said, "for, do you know, I am dreadfully tired, and I think that I will go to bed."

"No, no; he will only make a beginning to-night, perhaps of two or three sticks, and afterwards he will study you. You will be much better for some sleep after your journey--though you have not yet told me where you came from," and she shook her straw-coloured head doubtfully.

Joan made no answer, not feeling inclined to submit herself to cross-examination at the moment; but, going round the table, she shook hands with Mr. Bird and with Sally, who had been watching her all the evening and now put up her face to be kissed in a way that quite won Joan's heart.

"That shows that Sally likes you," said Mrs. Bird, in a gratified voice; "and if Sally likes you I shall too, for she is never wrong about people. And now good night, my dear. We breakfast at half-past seven; but first I read some prayers if you would like to attend them: I read, and my two 'babies' follow in a book. Be sure you put your light out."

Joan stumbled upstairs, and, too tired even for thought, was soon in bed. Beneath her she could hear a clapping and cracking of fingers, which told her that she was being vigorously discussed by the Bird family after their own strange fashion; and to this queer lullaby she went to sleep.

CHAPTER XXIV(MESSRS. BLACK AND PARKER)

 

Joan slept well that night, and woke to find the sunlight streaming in at her window. Coming down to the sitting-room at a quarter past seven, she saw that, early as it was, it had been swept and garnished and the breakfast laid.

"Good morning, my dear!" said Mrs. Bird: "I am glad to see that you are an early riser. I suppose it is a habit which you bring with you from the country. It was not so with the late accountant, who would never breakfast till nine if he could help it, and on Sundays not till ten; but I think that an affection of the liver from which he suffered made him sleepy. And now I am going to have prayers. Maria, come to prayers."

Maria shuffled in, obedient, and diving into the back room reappeared wheeling her master before her, who, as he came, smiled sweetly and waved his hand in greeting to Joan. Mrs. Bird handed two Bibles to her husband and her daughter, pointing out the passage which was to be read with her finger, then she gave them each a manual of prayer. These preparations finished, she began to read the chapter of the Bible aloud; and it was curious and touching to see the attention with which her deaf-and-dumb audience followed the words they could not hear, glancing from time to time at the motions of her lips to make sure that they were keeping pace with her. When the reading was finished, she shut the Bible and knelt down--an example that Mr. Bird could not follow, for his limbs were paralysed. Sally, however, placed herself near Joan, making it clear to her by signs that she was to indicate by pointing each sentence as it passed her mother's lips.

Prayers being over--and surely family worship was never carried on under greater difficulties--breakfast followed, and then the business of the day began. Mr. Bird carved while Mrs. Bird and her daughter sewed at gowns that they were making. For a time Joan looked on helplessly; then, wearying of idleness, asked if she could not do something.

"Can you sew, my dear?" said Mrs. Bird.

"Pretty well," she answered; "but not like you."

"That is scarcely wonderful, considering that I have done nothing else for more than twenty years; but here are some seams to be run up, if you have nothing better to do."

Joan took the seams and began to run them; indeed, she "ran" until her back ached with stooping.

"You are getting tired, my dear," said Mrs. Bird, "as I expected you would, not being accustomed to the work," and she peered at her kindly through her spectacles. "Now you had better rest