Читать книгу: «Adventures of Working Men. From the Notebook of a Working Surgeon», страница 11

“‘Make haste,’ he cried faintly, ‘I’m about done.’

“By this time I was about ten feet up, and climbing as hard as I could, forgetting all the danger in the excitement; for I don’t think I should have dared to go up on another occasion.

“It was very hard work, and as I climbed the wind seemed to blow terribly; but I got up and up, panting as I did so, till at last I was clinging there with one foot resting on a crocket, wondering what I should do.

“‘Look sharp, lad,’ said poor Joey, ‘It seems as if all my blood was rushing into my head.’

“I leaned over and got hold of the rope close to his ankle, but do anything more I could not. I had all the will in the world to help the poor fellow, but it took all my strength to keep myself with one hand from falling; and as to raising my old companion, I neither had the strength nor the idea as to how it could be done.

“The only way out of the difficulty seemed to be to take out my knife and cut the rope, and then the poor fellow would be killed.

“‘Come down,’ cried a voice below me.

“Looking towards the leads, there was the Rector stripped to his shirt and trousers, and with a coil of rope over his shoulder – for the new well rope had proved to be long enough to let him cut off some five and thirty feet.

“‘Don’t leave me,’ groaned Joey, who was half fainting. ‘I feel as if I should fall any moment. I say, lad, this is very awful!’

“‘Here’s the parson coming up,’ I said.

“And so it was; for he went to the row of crockets on the other side of Joey, who now hung, looking blue in the face, and with his eyes closed.

“‘He must make haste – make haste,’ he moaned, softly.

“I stopped, holding on, while the Rector climbed up quicker than either of us had done it, drawing himself up by his arms in a wonderful way till he was abreast of we two – me holding on, and Joey hanging on by one foot.

“As soon as the Rector reached us, he said a few words of encouragement to Joey, who did not speak a word, and then climbing higher, tied the short rope he carried to the long rope just above the loop-knot which held Joey’s ankle. Then coming down a little, he tied his rope tightly round Joey, just under the armpits.

“‘That will bear you, my lad,’ he said. ‘But catch fast hold of it with your hands, while I cut your foot free.’

“Climbing up higher once more, he pulled out his knife, opened it with his teeth, and then began to saw through the strands of the loop that held Joey’s ankle, till there was a snap, a jerk, and a heavy swinging to and fro; for the poor fellow had fallen two or three feet, and was now hanging by the rope round his breast right way upwards.

“He did not make any effort for a few minutes, and as cheer after cheer came to us from below, he swung there, with us holding on for dear life.

“‘Can you climb down now, Rance,’ said the Rector, ‘if I cut you free?’

“‘No, sir,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I’ve no use in my arms or legs – they’re all pins and needles.’

“‘Then we must lower you down,’ said the Rector, calmly. And getting hold of the long piece of rope, he climbed up once more, as coolly as if he was on an apple tree in his own orchard, and saw that the knots were fast; then coming down, he passed his long rope through the one round Joey’s breast, and tied it again round him.

“‘Now,’ he said, ‘Fincher and I will hold on by this rope, and you can let yourself slide through the other loop – one arm first, and then the other, steadily.’

“The poor fellow had hard work to do it; but the loop was loose enough to let him work it over his head, and then with the Rector striding across from the crocket at one angle to that on the other, and me holding on to the rope as well, we let him down, sliding with his back to the stone, till his feet touched the leads, when he fell down all of a heap.

“‘Untie the rope,’ said the Rector, ‘and get him down.’

“He spoke very hoarsely, shouting to them below; and a cheer came up.

“‘Now, Fincher,’ said the Rector, ‘we’ve got to get down.’

“As he spoke, he made a running noose in the rope with the end he held in his hand, let it run up to the the big noose, and pulled it tight.

“Then he made an effort to get his legs together on one angle; but the distance he had been striding was too great, and he couldn’t recover himself, but swung away by his hands.

“‘I can’t help it, Fincher – I must go first,’ he cried. And he was already sliding down the rope as he spoke; but I was so unnerved and giddy now, that I dared not look down.

“I believe I quite lost my head then for a few moments; for I was clinging there for life a hundred and twenty feet above the ground, and the wind seemed to be trying to push me from my hold.

“I was brought to myself, though, just as the landscape about me seemed to be spinning round, by feeling the rope touch my side; and I clasped it convulsively with both hands, and then, winding my legs round it, slid rapidly down, the rope seeming to turn to fire as it passed through my hands.

“A few moments later, and I was safe on the tower leads, trying like the rest to smile at the danger we had passed through; but it was a faint sickly kind of smile and we were all very glad to get down to the green, and cared nothing for the cheers of the people.

“The rope was left hanging there, and stayed till it rotted away; but somehow before a week was out, that weathercock stopped squeaking, as if some one had been up to oil it, and, though nothing was said about it, I’ve always felt as sure as sure that the Rector went up by himself and did it early one morning before any one was up.

“He was cool-headed enough to do it, for he certainly saved Joe Rance’s life, and I know no one in the village would have done it without bragging after. At all events, the weathercock was oiled, and as I said over and over again to Joey, ‘if Parson didn’t oil that weathercock, who did?’

“That all goes to prove what I say,” I replied when he had finished. “You were all guilty of foolhardiness just to gratify a little vanity.”

“Well, you see, doctor, no man likes for his mates to think him a coward.”

“Let them think, so long as you know you are not.”

“That’s what Parson said,” replied Fincher, “when he talked about it next day.”

“Then Parson, as you so politely call him, was quite right.”

Chapter Seventeen.
My Patient the Warehouseman

“I don’t grudge a man a glass of beer or anything of the sort,” I said to a patient of mine whom I was attending, and who it was said look more than was good for him; “beer is very well in its way, but I’m certain of one thing, and that is that a man is better without either beer or spirits.”

“What! in moderation, doctor?” he said.

“Yes, even in moderation; men existed and were well and strong and happy, depend upon it, long before beer or mead was invented.”

“Ah, doctor, I see you’re a teetotaller,” he said.

“Not I, my man, unless one who seldom takes wine, spirits, or beer be a teetotaller. When you get as old as I am, you will probably begin to think that it is as well to take as much care as possible of the machine in which you live. Suppose you had some clean, pretty mechanism – your watch, say, or a musical box, you would be very careful not to injure it.”

“Of course, doctor.”

“Then, why take anything that is likely to destroy so wonderful a piece of work as the human body?”

“But, does drinking beer destroy the body, doctor?”

“That depends,” I said. “If you have your half-pint or pint of beer for dinner and supper, I believe, honestly, you would be better without it, speaking as a doctor; but I don’t believe that indulgence would keep you from living in fair health to seventy, eighty, or ninety.”

“Then where’s the harm, doctor.”

“The harm is drinking when you don’t want it, and causing in yourself an unnatural thirst or desire for strong drink that can never more be quenched. Look around among your fellow workmen, and see how many you know who must have their half-pint before going to work, and their half-pint at eleven o’clock, and at four o’clock, and after leaving off; and at last get so that their machine won’t go without oiling, and they can’t pass a public-house without wanting more and more.”

“That’s a true word, doctor.”

“And what does it mean,” I said; “in the more moderate cases decided dejection; unnatural features; bloated face; injured intellect and general discomfort; and in the worst cases delirium tremens, and death.”

“Ah, but you are speaking of the worst cases, doctor, the regular drunkards.”

“No,” I said, “I was speaking of the regular drinkers, the men who rarely get drunk, for they are inured to the liquor they consume.”

“I suppose you are right, doctor,” he said; “Jacob Wood went regularly mad with drink.”

“I don’t know Jacob Wood,” I said; “but you may depend upon it if he did go regularly mad, as you call it, he had drunk until his internal organs were all in a state of disease that affected the brain; and if you’ll take my advice, my man – ”

“You’d turn teetotaller?”

“No, I don’t put so heavy a tie upon you,” I replied, “you have been used to your beer; well, if you feel to want it make a stringent rule that you will never take any except with your meals; you’ll be a better man in a month, and will not need to come to me.”

“Pity poor old Jacob Wood didn’t come to you, doctor.”

“It’s a pity he did not,” I said. “Let me see, you are a warehouseman, are you not?”

“Yee, sir, I work up in one of the great Tooley Street warehouses, seven stories above the ground, and everywhere around me wool – bales upon bales of wool which we crane up from waggons or lighters and in at an open door, where, if a fellow had had a little drop too much and slipped – well, seven stories would be an awful fall.

“Ours is a place worth going over, sir. There’s floors upon floors beneath, stored with jute and dye-woods, teas, coffees, spices, tobaccos, and lowest of all on the ground floor and in the cellarage, tallows in great hogsheads. Ah, it’s a busy place, and the stores there is worth some money, and no mistake.

“I remember Jacob Wood doctor,” he said, drawing in a long breath as if of pain, “and no wonder; but it’s strange, how very little people see danger when it’s coming to them.

“I was at our warehouse one day, and had been down for half-a-pint, when, ‘What’s the matter with Jacob Wood this afternoon?’ says one of the men.

“But, excepting that he looked a little wild about the eyes, I didn’t see anything more about him than might often be seen in men who will drink heavily at times; and so I said. But at last, towards evening, when I was longing to get away home to spend my evening comfortably, I was left alone upon that floor with him, and felt a bit startled to see him go all at once to the open door where the crane landed the bales, and cut some strange capers, like a man going to dive off a board into the sea.

“Putting down my work, which was getting ready two or three burst bales for the hydraulic press, so that they might be tied up again, I slipped quietly up behind him, and laid my hand upon his shoulder, when, with a yell, he shrieked out.

“And the next moment, by the light of the gas on that foggy winter’s afternoon, we two were wrestling and fighting together, within a few feet of the door, out of which we should have fallen clear a hundred feet upon the stones of the wharf below.

“I should have shouted, but all power of speech seemed taken away, as locked together we wrestled here and there, while his hot breath hissed against my cheek, and I could look close into his wild, glowering eyes as, flushing with rage, he bore me nearer and nearer to the doorway.

“Used as I was at all times to standing close to the edge and receiving bales and packages, I could lean over usually without a shudder; but now, with this madman slowly forcing me back towards the certain death, I could feel the cold sweat standing upon my face, and trembled so with dread that my resistance became feebler and feebler; till as a last resource I managed to get my leg between my opponent’s, and tripped him, when we fell heavily.

“Fortunately for me my enemy was undermost, and the force with which his head came against the warehouse floor partly stunned him, so that I shook myself free, and turned and fled towards the stairs. But the next moment I thought of the open doorway, and the state the poor fellow was in, so turned back to lock it, to ensure that he did not come by his death by falling out before I could get assistance.

“My hand was on the door, but I could not close it, for Wood lay in the way; and shuddering at how near he lay to the gulf, I stooped to draw him on one side, when he started up and seized me again.

“To beat up his hands, and turn, and ran down between the piled-up bales didn’t take long, while roaring with rage I could hear him tearing after me.

“The stairs were pretty close, but as I ran round the end of the bales I found the door closed, and had to dart past to avoid being caught; when I turned down another opening between the packages, and ran panting on.

“Big as the floor was, there was passage after passage between the wool, which was piled-up eight or nine feet high, and I tore on in the hope o’ getting ahead so that I could dart through the stairs door, fasten it after me, and so escape or summon assistance. On and on I ran, now getting ahead, and now with the panting breath close to my shoulder, so that I expected every moment to feel a savage hand laid upon me to drag me down. At last he got so near that his hand brushed me; but, with a yell of horror, I leaped forward again, dodged round a corner, ran down a short passage, and again on, past pillars and piles, when turning round I found that I was alone; and hurrying to about the centre of the narrow passage, between the high walls of wool, I leaned against the side panting and breathless.

“‘Now, if I could but reach the door while he was at the other end,’ I thought, ‘I should be safe;’ and I kept on nervously watching the two ends of the passage lest I should be taken by surprise; when, to my horror, I saw by the gas shining upon it a savage head peer round from the end nearest the way of escape, watch me for a moment, and then disappear. It was now quite dim and twilight in all the passages, and my first idea was to dart off in the opposite direction; but a little thought told me that perhaps the wretch did not see me, and therefore I had better stay where I was; and so I stood minute after minute expecting to see him come round one end or the other, and dash down upon me.

“I knew that about half-past five the watchman would come round, and then I could give the alarm; but it wanted nearly an hour of that time, and how I was to hold out till then I could not tell; for the very thought unnerved me; and, overcome with fear, I could feel my knees tremble and seem ready to give way beneath my weight.

“Five minutes passed – ten minutes – and still no sign. My spirits rose a little, and I began to hope that escape was yet possible, but abated nothing of my watchfulness. Another five minutes, and I had almost determined upon trying to steal down towards the door, where the reflection from the gaslight made the end of the passage quite bright, while where I stood was in a fast-deepening shadow. I took two steps forward noiselessly, and then stopped; stole on again and stopped with a dead silence all around, through which I could hear the singing of the gas and the loud ‘throb, throb’ of my heart. I had somewhat recovered my breath, and kept slinking silently on, every now and then looking back to see that there was no pursuit. What I should have liked, and which would have been in accordance with my feelings at the moment, would have been to dash forward; but I kept down the desire, and crept slowly on between the two huge walls of wool bales piled some eight or nine feet high.

“Only another three yards, and here I stopped, trembling in dread lest Wood might be watching for me; but calling myself fool, coward, and cur, I stepped on again; and at last, with the light shining full upon me, leaned forward to peer cautiously round the edge of the bales. Slowly and quietly, nearer and nearer, till I looked round; and then, with a horrible fascination upon me, I stopped still – for, in precisely the same position, Wood was craning his neck forward to peep round at me; and with eyes looking into eyes, and only three or four inches apart, we stood what seemed minutes immovable. Move I could not, speak I could not, for my throat felt dry and hot; while my eyes, fixed and staring, looked into those glaring, wild-beastlike orbs, which seemed to hold me fixed to the earth as if some horrible nightmare was upon me. I felt that if I closed my eyes but for a moment he would spring at me; and at last, clutching the wool firmly with one hand, I drew myself slowly back, fixing his eyes the whole while, and then, as my strength seemed to come back, I leapt round and fled down the passage once more, as I heard a hideous yell, and saw Wood dash into the entrance.

“But there was silence again directly, and looking back as I reached the middle, I could see that I was not pursued; when, fearing that with all a madman’s cunning he had gone round to try and trap me at the other end, I stopped once more where I was, mentally praying for aid, as I strained eyes and ears to catch sight of or hear my enemy.

“A quarter of an hour must have passed without a sound meeting my ears, and I was hopefully calculating upon aid soon coming, when a slight rustling noise seemed to have been made close by me, and I started and looked eagerly towards the dark and then towards the light end of the narrow passage I was in.

“Nothing to be seen; and the minutes again passed slowly on, when all at once came the most horribly unearthly yell I ever heard from just above my head, and then, overcome with terror as I shrank to the floor, I looked up and knew that Wood had climbed over the top of the wool; and as the thought flashed through my mind, he bounded down upon me and had me by the throat.

“I struggled for a few moments, and then lights seemed dancing before my eyes, blood rushing to my head; and, in a half-insensible state, I have some recollection of being dragged along the floor into the gaslight, and then pulled and thrust about for a few moments, when there came the regular thud-thud of the little pump close by, and I could feel myself moving upwards. But all seemed so calm, and such a desire for sleep was upon me, that it was not till there was a fearful sense of oppression and tightness that I awoke to the consciousness that the wretch had forced me on to the traveller of the hydraulic press, and was now forcing in the water beneath the ram, so that in a few more seconds my life would be crushed out.

“Thud-thud, thud-thud went the pump, and the pressure was awful; while at the same time, as I vainly writhed and tried to press down the heavy plate that was crushing me, I was conscious of a great light which shone around, and which I thought was caused by the flushing sensation in my eyes; but no, for directly there came the noise of shouting, louder every moment; and then I made out, ringing up from the yard, those horrid words, ‘Fire! fire!’ and then I knew that Wood must have fired the warehouse.

“Shouts, cries, and the noise of hurrying feet; and Wood stood in the glare of light, looking first one way and then the other, as if confused, for he had quitted the pump on the first noise of shouting. All at once he darted away; and half fainting and suffocated with the pressure, I could do nothing but groan feebly, after struggling a little, to find every effort vain; and then with sharpened senses gaze at the flames licking the roof of the floor I was on, and escaping up the sides of wool bales, and the more inflammable goods that were in the warehouse. The smoke soon became blinding and the heat stifling; and for me there seemed no hope, since I was sure no one would be able to penetrate to where I was; when again I gave a struggle, and stretched down my hand backwards to try and reach the tap, which would let off the water and set me at liberty, or at least place me in a position to try and escape the horrible death that seemed my fate.

“But no, the handle was far out of my reach; and I groaned and wept at my helpless condition. The press held me by the chest with awful power, but my hands and arms were at liberty; while my head hanging down backwards enabled me to see the flames creeping along faster and faster, as I saw them reversed, and began to calculate how long it would be before they would reach me and end my misery.

“All at once, when nearly fainting, my hand came in contact with the iron bar used to lengthen the handle of the pump, to force in the water with more ease when greater power was required; and then my heart gave a leap as I thought I might be able to strike the handle of the tap and let out the water.

“I grasped the bar, and then I began swinging it about slowly, to try and strike the tap; but in vain, for I could do nothing with it from only being able to swing it at random, for I could not see. Nearer came the flames, louder rose the shouts; and as I looked along the warehouse I could see that all escape was out off by the stairs, even if I had been at liberty; and now, completely overcome by the pressure and the horror of my position, I groaned heavily, and the bar fell from my grasp.

“‘The last hope gone,’ I thought; when at the same moment a familiar sound struck my ear, for in falling the bar had struck upon the tap, when there came the fierce gush of the compressed water, and the ram began slowly to descend till I could crawl out, to fall fainting upon the floor.

“But I was up again directly, for there was a fierce glow in the place; and now I could see Wood busily at work tearing out wool to feed the flames, and dashing everything else he could lay his hands upon into the fire, which seemed at times to singe him.

“I looked round, for he took no notice of me; and I had before seen there was no escape by the door, so, running to the open door by the crane, I caught hold of the rope, and began lowering it down as fast as possible, with the light shining full upon me, and the people below either groaning with horror or cheering me on as I tore at the stout rope, and sent the crane handle spinning round and round.

“Could I but get enough rope out before Wood’s attention was taken, I felt safe, for I knew that I could slide down easily enough; but, as I dreaded, he caught sight of me, and leaving his fiery task, he rushed towards the door; when, with a yell of terror, I leaped from the flooring, clinging tightly to the rope, which began to run swiftly out as I swung to and fro till it was all out, when the jerk nearly dashed me off. But, after sliding down some little way, I recovered myself, and letting the rope glide slowly through my hands, I went lower and lower, with my eyes fixed on the blazing floor above.

“All at once I felt the rope jerked and swung about, and I could see the figure of Wood at it; and then again I was being drawn up, and I knew he must be busy at the crane handle; but the next minute he must have loosened his hold.

“There was a yell from the crowd, something dark dashed by me with a rushing noise, and as I clung trembling to the rope I heard a horrible dull thud, and slipping swiftly down the rope for the remainder of the distance, I suppose I fell fainting by the side of Wood’s mutilated form.

“The fire was got under when our floor was burned out, though much damage was done by water; but with the exception of a strange, nervous timidity that I fancy I shall never get the better of, I was not much the worse.”

“And was Jacob Wood killed?”

“No, sir,” he said; “he fell upon some bales of wool; but he was dreadfully hurt, and never man enough to take his turn in the warehouse again, and very glad we all were.”

“And yet you men rather need an example.”

“Well, yes, sir, we do,” he said, thoughtfully; “but I’m going to turn over a new leaf.”