We each got a job in different boats. The one I was in took some passengers over to Ryde, and thence some others to Spithead and back, so that it was late when I got home with a shilling and a few pence in my pocket. Mary was no better. The doctor had been, and Nancy had told him of the landlord’s threats, but he had made no remark.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Nancy,” I said; “I’ll offer the landlord this shilling when he comes to-morrow to show that I am in earnest, and perhaps he will let us off for another day or two.”
“Better hear what the doctor thinks when he comes in the morning. I don’t think that he’ll allow Mary and Widow Simmons to have their beds taken from under them. Cheer up, Peter! Cheer up!”
I did cheer up a little when Jim came in and brought another shilling, his day’s earnings, declaring that he’d had a good dinner, and had still some coppers in his pocket to pay for the next day’s breakfast. He, however, could not resist eating some bread and cheese which Nancy pressed on him before he went away.
I could scarcely close my eyes for thinking of what the morrow might bring forth. About midnight Nancy came in and told me that Mary was sleeping more calmly than she had done since she was taken ill. Hoping that this was a good sign my mind became less disquieted, and I fell asleep. The next morning the usual hour for the doctor’s coming passed and he did not appear. We waited and waited, anxious to know whether Mary really was better. At last there came a knocking at the door, and in walked the landlord, with a couple of men at his heels.
“Have you the rent ready, good people?” he asked, in a gruff tone.
“No, sir; but I have two shillings, and I promise to pay as much as I can every day till you’ve got what you demand,” I said, as fast as I could speak.
The men laughed as I said this.
“Two shillings! That won’t go no way, my lad,” cried the landlord. “Let me see, why this old pot and kettle and the cups and plates, and table and chairs, and everything in this room won’t sell for more than half my demands, so we must have the bedsteads and bedding and a chest of drawers or so; and as the old woman in there won’t ever be able to pay me more rent, she and all of you must turn out with what remains! So now, Crouch and Scroggins, do your duty.”
The moment he had entered the house Nancy, passing behind me, had locked Mary’s and Mrs Simmons’s doors, and having put the keys in her pocket, had slipped into the scullery or little back kitchen, where we often cooked in summer. One of the men was in the act of placing one chair upon another, and his companion was approaching Mary’s room, when suddenly Nancy rushed out of the back kitchen with a red-hot poker in her hand, and placing herself before it, exclaimed—