The Blue Pavilions | Page 7

left his money to the town, as all know--"
"Yes, yes; I knew that. Her husband--"
"Hadn't a penny-piece, I believe: pawned her own mother's jewels and gambled 'em away; thereupon left her, as a dog his cleaned bone."
The little man laid a hand on his collar, and as the doctor stooped whispered low and rapidly in his ear.
Their colloquy was interrupted.
"I'll adopt that child!" said Captain Runacles from the hearth. He spoke aloud, but without turning his head.
Captain Barker hopped round, as if a pin were stuck into him.
"You!--adopt Meg's boy!"
"I said that."
"But you won't."
"I shall."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Jemmy; but I intend to adopt him myself."
"I know it. You were whispering as much to the Doctor there."
"You have a little girl already."
"Precisely. That's where the difference comes in. This one, you'll note, is a boy."
"A child of your own!"
"But not of Meg's."
Captain Runacles turned in his chair as he said this, and, reaching a hand back to the table, drained the last bottle of burgundy into his glass. His face was white as a sheet and his jaw set like iron. "But not of Meg's," he repeated, lifting the glass and nodding over it at the pair.
His friend swayed into a chair and sat facing him, his chin but just above the table and his green eyes glaring like an owl's.
"Jemmy Runacles, I adopt that boy!"
"You're cursedly obstinate, Jack."
"Having adopted him, I shall at once quit my profession and devote the residue of my life to his education. For a year or two--that is, until he reaches an age susceptible of tuition--I shall mature a scheme of discipline, which--"
"My dear sir," the Doctor interposed, "surely all this is somewhat precipitate."
"Not at all. My resolution was taken the instant you entered the room."
"That hardly seems to me to prove--"
The little man waved aside the interruption and continued: "Tristram--for I shall have him christened by that name--"
"He'll be called Jeremiah," decided Captain Runacles shortly.
"I've settled upon Tristram. The name is a suitable one, and signifies that its wearer is a child of sorrow."
"Jeremiah also suggests lamentations, and has the further merit of being my own name."
"Tristram--"
"Jeremiah--"
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried Dr. Beckerleg, "would it not be as well to see the infant?"
"I can imagine," Captain Barker answered, "nothing in the infant that is likely to shake my resolution. My scheme of discipline will be based--"
"Decidedly, Jack, I shall have to run you through," said his friend gloomily. Indeed, the Doctor stood in instant fear of this catastrophe; for Captain Runacles' temper was a byword, and not even his customary dark flush looked so dangerous as the lustreless, sullen eyes now sunk in a face that was drawn and pinched and absolutely wax-like in colour. To the Doctor's astonishment, however, it was the little hunchback who now jumped up and whipped out his sword.
"Run me through!" he almost screamed, dancing before the other and threatening him with absurd flourishes--"Run me through?"
"Listen, gentlemen; listen, before blood is spilt! To me it appears evident that you are both drunk."
"To me that seems an advantage, since it equalises matters."
"But whichever of you survives, he will be unable to forgive himself; having sinned not only against God, but also against logic."
"How against logic?"
"Permit me to demonstrate. Mrs. Salt, whom (as I well know) you esteemed, is lost to you; and in her place is left a babe whom-- healthy though he undoubtedly is--you cannot possibly esteem without taking a great deal for granted, especially as you have not yet set eyes on him. Now it is evident that, if one of you should kill the other, a second life of approved worth will be sacrificed for an infant of purely hypothetical merits. As a man of business I condemn the transaction. As a Christian I deprecate the shedding of blood. But if somebody's blood must be shed, let us be reasonable and kill the baby!"
Captain Barker lowered his point.
"Decidedly the question is more difficult than I imagined."
"At least it cannot be settled before eating," said Dr. Beckerleg, as the drawer entered with a tray. "You will forgive me that I took the liberty of ordering breakfast as soon as I looked into this room. Without asking to see your tongues, I prescribed dried herrings and home-brewed ale; for myself, a fried sole, a beef-steak reasonably under-done, a kidney-pie which the drawer commended on his own motion, with a smoked cheek of pork, perhaps--"
"You wish us to sit still while you devour all this?"
"I am willing to give each side of the argument a fair chance."
"But I find nothing to argue about!" exclaimed Captain Runacles, pushing his plate from him after a very faint attempt to eat. "My mind being already made up--"
"And mine," interrupted Captain Barker.
"If I suggest that both of you adopt the child," Dr. Beckerleg begun.
"Still