Mrs. Hillier was definite, after this, in ordering that the trip should be considered at an end, that the game of imaginary travel should finish, and I left the room to prepare the evening meal for the family. It consisted of cold ham, cheese and lettuce.
I had put up the shutters one evening, and I was in the room at the back of the shop, when the booming came of distant voices. I ran upstairs and, without turning on the light, gazed out, and caught sight of the Deptford crowd. There was a good deal of incoherent shouting, with bass notes from the men, shrill voices of the women; one carried a flag, and boys knocked at anything that could be reckoned as a substitute for a drum. A ring came from downstairs; I assumed it to be only the lad with the evening newspaper, and if it happened to be anybody else, I was certainly not going to open the door. As the crowd came nearer, I could see Peter's deplorable mother in the front ranks; she was gesticulating wildly and screaming an instruction. They made some effort to range up near to my shop. A few constables were about and one was sent off, at full speed, to the police station. As I watched, I saw young Peter dash up and catch hold of his mother; he pushed her along, and once he had got her on the run, it was not long before the two disappeared. More names were being shouted now, and some of the excited people, to my relief, began to move; at that moment I heard a cracking of wood downstairs, and it appeared certain to me that my shop, with all the valuable articles I had selected so carefully, was about to be smashed and ruined as evidence of the patriotism of the wreckers. Footsteps came on the staircase.
"Hullo," said a husky voice. "All in the dark? War time economy?"
I kept very quiet.
"Surely," the voice went on, "you've got a kiss for me?"
I struggled fiercely as arms went around me. The lights in the road were suddenly turned on, and I found myself giving a bang, with the flat of the hand, on the head of my own dear nephew.
"A fracas in London Street," cried Herbert, amusedly, on seeing my apologetic distress. "Well known resident in assault case. How the warrior boy was welcomed home."
"Herbert," I said, "if I had only guessed it was you—"