I soon fell asleep before Wemmick's fire, and the Aged and I

enjoyed one another's society by falling asleep before it more or

less all day. We had loin of pork for dinner, and greens grown on

the estate, and I nodded at the Aged with a good intention whenever

I failed to do it drowsily. When it was quite dark, I left the Aged

preparing the fire for toast; and I inferred from the number of

teacups, as well as from his glances at the two little doors in the

wall, that Miss Skiffins was expected.

Chapter 46

Eight o'clock had struck before I got into the air that was

scented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of the

long-shore boatbuilders, and mast oar and block makers. All that

water-side region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge, was

unknown ground to me, and when I struck down by the river, I found

that the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, and

was anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank,

Chinks's Basin; and I had no other guide to Chinks's Basin than the

Old Green Copper Rope-Walk.

It matters not what stranded ships repairing in dry docks I lost

myself among, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked to

pieces, what ooze and slime and other dregs of tide, what yards of

ship-builders and ship-breakers, what rusty anchors blindly biting

into the ground though for years off duty, what mountainous country

of accumulated casks and timber, how many rope-walks that were not

the Old Green Copper. After several times falling short of my

destination and as often over-shooting it, I came unexpectedly

round a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place,

all circumstances considered, where the wind from the river had

room to turn itself round; and there were two or three trees in it,

and there was the stump of a ruined windmill, and there was the Old

Green Copper Rope-Walk - whose long and narrow vista I could trace

in the moonlight, along a series of wooden frames set in the

ground, that looked like superannuated haymaking-rakes which had

grown old and lost most of their teeth.

Selecting from the few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank, a house

with a wooden front and three stories of bow-window (not

bay-window, which is another thing), I looked at the plate upon the

door, and read there, Mrs. Whimple. That being the name I wanted, I

knocked, and an elderly woman of a pleasant and thriving appearance

responded. She was immediately deposed, however, by Herbert, who

silently led me into the parlour and shut the door. It was an odd

sensation to see his very familiar face established quite at home

in that very unfamiliar room and region; and I found myself looking

at him, much as I looked at the corner-cupboard with the glass and

china, the shells upon the chimney-piece, and the coloured

engravings on the wall, representing the death of Captain Cook, a

ship-launch, and his Majesty King George the Third in a

state-coachman's wig, leather-breeches, and top-boots, on the

terrace at Windsor.

"All is well, Handel," said Herbert, "and he is quite satisfied,

though eager to see you. My dear girl is with her father; and if

you'll wait till she comes down, I'll make you known to her, and

then we'll go up-stairs. - That's her father."

I had become aware of an alarming growling overhead, and had

probably expressed the fact in my countenance.

"I am afraid he is a sad old rascal," said Herbert, smiling, "but I

have never seen him. Don't you smell rum? He is always at it."

"At rum?" said I.

"Yes," returned Herbert, "and you may suppose how mild it makes his

gout. He persists, too, in keeping all the provisions upstairs in

his room, and serving them out. He keeps them on shelves over his

head, and will weigh them all. His room must be like a chandler's

shop."

While he thus spoke, the growling noise became a prolonged roar,

and then died away.