The Captain filled his pipe from the box, tragically ruminating in the silence that followed.
‘Ah! pore George Budgen! ’A little knowed as ’twould be th’ laast time as ’a ’d pass his tobaccer-box to a friend!’
The sun had long set, and the dusk was creeping up apace. Here and there in the shadowy length of the street, lights were beginning to break out.
Where we sat under the dense canopy of pine-boughs, night had already asserted itself, and to one another we were little more than an arc of glowing pipe-bowls. Old Stallwood chuckled richly from his corner. A sort of inspiration of mendacity seemed to have come over him to-night.
‘But Lor’ bless ye!’ he went on, ‘that bean’t nauthin’!—not when ye’ve been five-an’-thirty year at sea. I knowed a man wanst as worked in a steam sawmill way over in Amurricky somewheres; an’ what did ’a do wan fine marnin’ but get hisself sawed i’ two pieces; an’ wan piece died—th’ doctor cud do nought to save ut. But t’other piece kep’ alive for ten year arterwards—ah! an’ did a man’s work every day!’
Old Daniel bounced to his feet. He breathed hard for a full half-minute.
‘Joe Stall’ard!’ he said at last, severely, ‘shame on ye fer a reg’lar, hout-an’-hout, ould leear! A man cut in two? An’ lived ten year arter—leastways th’ wan part o’ him? Fer shame, Joe! ’Tis traipsin’ about i’ all they heathen countries, I reckons, as has spiled ye! Ah, well, well-a-day! There they be, lightin’ up at th’ Thatchers! Coom along, Tom Clemmer!’
Three squares of red shone out amidst the twinkling dust of the street, denoting the curtained windows of the inn. It was the signal for which all had been waiting, and a general stir took place in the assembly. At length none remained about me but the old seaman. He had said nothing while the dismemberment of the group was in progress, but had sat shaking in silent merriment. Now he, too, got slowly to his feet.
‘’Tis wunnerful,’ he observed, moving away, ‘real onaccountable, th’ little simple things as some folks wunt b’lieve. There be a thing now, as—’
But this story of partitioned, yet still living humanity, even though it came from America, was too much also for me; and I told him so. He stopped in his easy saunter towards the inn.