Another dead lull—presently the old servant, who had gone to the lobby to deliver the message, returned into the room, and as he placed a fresh bottle of wine on the table, he said—"The man says Mrs Pigwell has got a sad fright, sir—taken in labour, sir."
"There, Master Benjamin, there—I am sure I wish you had gone to the coast of Africa before this had happened—I was an old soft hearted fool to stand in the way."
"Well, my dear uncle, it is not too late yet"—said I, a good deal piqued. Not a word from him—"I am sorry to see you have taken such offence where none was meant. It was a piece of folly, I admit, and I am sincerely sorry for it." Still silent—"Jennings is still at anchor down below—I can easily be ready to-morrow, and there is no appearance of the wind changing—so, pray, do let me go."
"You may go to the devil, sir, for me"—and off he started, fizzing, worse than the rocket itself, with rage to his dressing-room, where he often used to pass an hour or two in the evenings alone.
I sat still, guzzling my wine in great wrath.—Enter Peregrine again. I was always a favourite with the old fellow, although he had been seriously angry at first, when he saw that my absurd prank had put his old master so cruelly out. Now, however, I perceived he was anxious to make up for it.
"Lord, Master Benjamin, your uncle is in such a taking you never se'ed—why, do you know, the first thing he did when he went to his dressing-room was to hang his wig on the lighted candle, instead of the pillar of the looking glass; and then we were all in darkness, you see—so, in groping my way out, I popped my foot into the hot water in the foot-pail that he had ordered up, and this scalded me so, that, forgetting where I was, I could not help swearing a bit, Master Benjamin;—on which he opened the door, and thrust me out, neck and crop, calling me a blasphemous old villain—although we all know he is not slack at a good rousing oath himself when his bristles are up; but to call me an old blasphemer—me! who have sarved him faithfully for thirty years, in various parts of the world—a blasphemous old villain, indeed!"
I saw no more of my uncle that night, and when we met next morning at breakfast, I was rejoiced to find the gale had blown itself out.
When I sat down, he looked across the table at me, as if expecting me to speak, but as I held my peace, the good old man opened the conference himself.
"Why, Benjie, my boy, I have been laughing over our fright, yesterday; but have done with your jokes, Master, if you please, and no more about that infernal coast of"——
"Mr Pigwell has just called, sir," quoth old Peregrine, entering at this moment—"and desires me to say that Mrs Pigwell is brought to bed, sir, and all doing well, sir, notwithstanding the fright."