“Then his taste must be a queer one,” the landlord replied, as he illustrated sadly the discovery reserved for a riper age—that human fingers have attained their present flexibility, form, and skill by habit of assuaging, for some millions of ages, the woes of the human body.
“Now don't waste my time like that,” cried Mordacks; and seeing him draw near again, his host became right active. “Benevolence must be inculcated,” continued the factor, following strictly in pursuit. “I have done you a world of good, my dear friend; and reflection will compel you to heap every blessing on me.”
“I don't know about that,” replied the landlord. It is certain, however, that this exhibition of philanthropic vigor had a fine effect. In five minutes all the resources of the house were at the disposal of this rapid agent, who gave his orders right and left, clapped down a bag of cash, and took it up again, and said, “Now just you mind my horse, twice as well as you mind your fellow-creatures. Take a leg of mutton out, and set it roasting. Have your biggest bed hot for a lot of frozen children. By the Lord, if you don't look alive, I'll have you up for murder.” As he spoke, a stout fish-woman came in from the quay; and he beckoned to her, and took her with him.
“You can't come in,” said a little weak voice, when Mr. Mordacks, having knocked in vain, began to prise open the cottage door. “Mother is so poorly; and you mustn't think of coming in. Oh, whatever shall I do, if you won't stop when I tell you?”
“Where are all the rest of you? Oh, in the kitchen, are they? You poor little atomy, how many of you are dead?”
“None of us dead, sir; without it is the baby;” here Geraldine burst into a wailing storm of tears. “I gave them every bit,” she sobbed—“every bit, sir, but the rush-lights; and them they wouldn't eat, sir, or I never would have touched them. But mother is gone off her head, and baby wouldn't eat it.”
“You are a little heroine,” said Mordacks, looking at her—the pinched face, and the hollow eyes, and the tottering blue legs of her. “You are greater than a queen. No queen forgets herself in that way.”
“Please, sir, no; I ate almost a box of rush-lights, and they were only done last night. Oh, if baby would have took to them!”
“Hot bread and milk in this bottle; pour it out; feed her first, Molly,” Mr. Mordacks ordered. “The world can't spare such girls as this. Oh, you won't eat first! Very well; then the others shall not have a morsel till your mouth is full. And they seem to want it bad enough. Where is the dead baby?”
In the kitchen, where now they stood, not a spark of fire was lingering, but some wood-ash still retained a feeble memory of warmth; and three little children (blest with small advance from babyhood) were huddling around, with hands, and faces, and sharp grimy knees poking in for lukewarm corners; while two rather senior young Carroways were lying fast asleep, with a jack-towel over them. But Tommy was not there; that gallant Tommy, who had ridden all the way to Filey after dark, and brought his poor father to the fatal place.