The String of Pearls; Or, The Barber of Fleet Street. A Domestic Romance.

all the pleasure in life, for, as I often said to poor Mr. Ragg, who is dead and gone, and buried accordingly in St. Martin's, as he naturally might, and a long illness he had, and what with one thing and--" "Yes! yes! we know all that. Just attend to us for one moment, if you please, and do not speak until you thoroughly understand the nature of the question we are about to put to you." "Certainly not, sir. Why should I speak, for as I often and often said, when--" "Hush, hush!" Mrs. Ragg was silent at last, and then the surgeon spoke to her calmly and deliberately, for he much wished her clearly to understand what he was saying to her. "Mrs. Ragg, we still think that the faculties of your son Tobias are not permanently injured, and that they are only suffering from a frightful shock." "Yes, sir, they is frightfully shook." "Hush! We think that if anything that greatly interested him could be brought to bear upon the small amount of perception that remains to him he would recover. Do you now know of anything that might exercise a strong influence over him?" "Lord bless you--no, sir." "How old is he?" "Fifteen, sir, and you would hardly believe what a time of it I had with Tobias. All the neighbours said--'Well, if Mrs. Ragg gets over this, she's a woman of ten thousand;' and Mrs. Whistlesides, as lived next door, and had twins herself, owned she never--" "Good God, will you be quiet, madam?" "Quiet, sir? I'm sure I haven't said two words since I've been in the blessed room. I appeal to the _kernel_." "Well! well! it appears then, Mrs. Ragg, you can think of nothing that is at all likely to aid us in this plan of awakening, by some strong impression, the dormant faculties of Tobias?" "No, gentlemen, no! I only wish I could, poor boy; and there's somebody else wasting away for grief about him; poor little thing, when she heard that Tobias was mad, I'm sure I thought she'd have broke her heart, for if Tobias ever loved anybody in all the world, it was little Minna Gray. Ah! it's affecting to think how such children love each other, ain't it, sir? Lord bless you, the sound of her footstep was enough for him, and his eyes would get like two stars, as he'd clap his hands together, and cry--'Ah! that's dear Minna.' That was before he went to Mr. Todd's, poor fellow." "Indeed!" "Yes, sir, oh, you haven't an idea." "I think I have. Who is this Minna Gray, who so enthralled his boyish fancy?" "Why, she's widow Gray's only child, and they live in Milford Lane, close to the Temple, you see, and even Tobias used to go with me to drink tea with Mrs. Gray, as we was both _bequeathed_ women in a world of trouble." "You were what?" "Bequeathed." "Bereaved you mean, I suppose, Mrs. Ragg; but how could you tell me that you knew of no means of moving Tobias's feelings. This Minna Gray, if he really loves her, is the very thing." "Lor, sir. What do you mean?" "Why, I mean that if you can get this Minna Gray here, the possibility is that it will be the recovery of Tobias. At all events, it is the only chance of that kind that presents itself. If that fails, we must only trust to time. How old is this girl?" "About fourteen, sir, and though I say it--" "Well, well. Do you now, as a woman of the world, Mrs. Ragg, think that she has an affection for poor Tobias?" "Do I think? Lor bless you, sir, she doats on the ground he walks on, that she does--poor young thing. Hasn't she grizzled a bit. It puts me in mind of--" "Yes, yes. Of course it does. Now, Mrs. Ragg, you understand it is an object with our friend the colonel here, that no one but yourself should know that Tobias is here. Could you get this young girl to come to tea, for instance, with you, without telling her what else she is wanted for?" "Dear me, yes, sir; for, as I used to say to Mr. Ragg, who is dead and gone, and buried in St. Martin's--" "Exactly. Now go and get her by all means, and when she comes here we will speak to her, but above all things be careful what you say." "I think Mrs. Ragg is already aware," said Colonel Jeffery, "that her son's safety, as well as her own, depends upon her discretion in keeping his whereabouts a profound secret. We will instruct this young girl when she comes here." Colonel Jeffery, when he heard that the medical man was of opinion that the experiment of awakening the feelings of Tobias, by bringing Minna Gray, was worth trying, at once acquiesced, and urged upon Mrs. Ragg to go and see Minna. After many more speeches, about as much to the purpose as those which we have already formed, Mrs. Ragg got herself dressed and went upon her errand. She was instructed to say that she had found herself unequal to being a laundress in the Temple, and so had thought it was better to return to her own original occupation of cook in a gentleman's family, and that, as she had the liberty to do so, she wished Minna Gray to come and take tea with her. Thus forewarned of the part she was to play, Mrs. Ragg started upon her mission, in which we need not follow her, for the result of it is all that we particularly care about, and that consisted in her bringing Minna in great triumph to the colonel's house. Colonel Jeffery, and Captain Rathbone, who was staying to dine with him, saw the young girl as she came up the garden path. She was one of those small, delicately beautiful young creatures, who seem specially made to love and be loved. Her light auburn hair hung in dancing curls down her fair cheeks, and her beautifully shaped lips and pearly teeth were of themselves features that imparted much loveliness to her countenance. She had, too, about her face all the charm of childish beauty, which bespoke her so young as to have lost little of that springtide grace, which, alas! is so fleeting. Add to all this a manner so timid, so gentle, and so retiring, that she seemed to be an inhabitant of some quieter world than this, and you have Minna Gray, who had crept into the boyish heart of poor Tobias, before your eyes. "What a gentle quiet looking little creature," said the captain. "She is indeed; and what a contrast!" "Between her and Mrs. Ragg, you mean? It does indeed look like an elephant escorting a fawn. But Mrs. Ragg has her good qualities." "She has, and they are numerous. She is honest and candid as the day, and almost the only fault that can be laid to her charge is her garrulity." "How do you mean to proceed?" "Why, Rathbone, I mean to condescend to do what, under any other circumstances, would be most unjustifiable--that is, listen to the conversation of Mrs. Ragg with Minna Gray; I do so with the concurrence of the old lady, who is to lead her to speak of Tobias, and it is solely for the purpose of judging if she really loves the boy, and making a proper report to the surgeon, that I do so." "You are right enough, Jeffery; the end in this case, at all events, sanctifies the means, however defective such a system of philosophy may be as a general thing. May I likewise be an auditor?" "I was going to ask you to so far oblige me, for I shall then have the advantage of your opinion; so you will do me a favour." There was a small pantry called a butler's pantry close to the kitchen, into which Mrs. Ragg had taken Minna Gray. A door opened from this pantry into the kitchen, and another on to the landing at the foot of the kitchen stairs. Now Mrs. Ragg was to take care that the door opening to the kitchen should be just ajar, and the colonel and his friend could get into the pantry by the other mode of entrance. Colonel Jeffery was a gentleman in the fullest sense of the term, and he kept no useless bloated menials about him, so the butler's pantry had no butler to interfere with him, the colonel, in his own house. In the course of a few minutes Jeffery and Rathbone were in the pantry, from whence they could both see and hear what passed in the kitchen. To be sure there was a certain air of restraint about Mrs. Ragg at the thought that her master was listening to what passed, and that lady had a propensity to use hard words, of the meaning of which she was in the most delightful state of ignorance; but as it was to Minna Gray's conversation that the colonel wanted to listen, these little peculiarities of Mrs. Ragg upon the occasion did not much matter. Of course, Minna thought she had no other auditors than her old friend. Mrs. Ragg was quite busy over the tea. "Well, my dear," she said to Minna, "this is a world we live in." Mrs. Ragg, no doubt, intended this as a discursive sort of remark that might open any conversation very well, and lead to anything, and she was not disappointed, for it seemed to give to the young girl courage to utter that which was struggling to her lips. "Mrs.--Mrs. Ragg," she began, hesitatingly. "Yes. My dear, let me fill your cup." "Thank you; but I was going to say--" "A little more sugar?" "No, no. But I cannot place a morsel in my lips, Mrs. Ragg, or think or speak to you of anything else, until you have told me if you have heard any news of poor--poor--" "Tobias?" "Yes--yes--yes!" Minna Gray placed her two little hands upon her face and burst into tears. Mrs. Ragg made a snuffling sort of noise that, no doubt, was highly sympathetic, and after a pause of a few moments' duration, Minna gathered courage to speak again. "You know, Mrs. Ragg, the last you told me of him was that--that Mr. Todd had said he was mad, you know, and then you went to fetch somebody, and when you came back he was gone; and Mr. Todd told you the next day that poor Tobias ran off at great speed and disappeared. Has anything been heard of him since?" "Ah, my dear, alas! alas!" "Why do you cry alas?--Have you any more sad news to tell me?" "He was my only son--and all the world and his wife, as the saying is, can't tell how much I loved him." Minna Gray clasped her hands, and, while the tears coursed down her young fair cheeks, she said-- "And I, too, loved him!" "I always thought you did, my dear, and I'm sure, if you had been an angel out of Heaven, my poor boy could not have thought more of you than he did. There was nothing that you said or did that was not excellent. He loved the ground you walked on; and a little old worsted mitten, that you left at our place once, he used to wear round his neck, and kiss it when he thought no one was nigh, and say--'This was my Minna's!'" The young girl let her head rest upon her hands, and sobbed convulsively. "Lost--lost!" she said, "and poor, kind, good Tobias is lost!" "No, my dear, it's a long lane that hasn't a turning. Pluck up your courage, and your courage will pluck up you. Keep sixpence in one pocket, and hope in another. When things are at the worst they mend. You can't get further down in a well than the bottom." Minna sobbed on. "And so, my dear," added Mrs. Ragg, "I do know something more of Tobias." The young girl looked up. "He lives!--he lives!" "Lor a mussy, don't lay hold of a body so. Of course he lives, and, what's more, the doctor says that you ought to see him--he's up stairs." "Here?--here?" "Yes, to be sure. That's why I brought you to tea." Minna Gray took a fit of trembling, and then, making great efforts to compose herself, she said-- "Tell me all--tell me all!" "Well, my dear, it's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and so here I am, cook in as good a place as mortal woman would wish to have. I can't tell you all the rights of the story, because I don't know it. But certainly Tobias is up stairs in bed like a gentleman, only they say as his brains is--is something or another that makes him not understand anything or anybody, and so you see the doctor says if you speak to him,