The man was a total stranger to Mrs. Bilkins; but the instant she caught sight of the double white anchors embroidered on the lapels of his jacket, she unhesitatingly threw back the door, which with great presence of mind she had partly closed.
A drunken sailor standing on the step of the Bilkins mansion was no novelty. The street, as we have stated, led down to the wharves, and sailors were constantly passing. The house abutted directly on the street; the granite door-step was almost flush with the sidewalk, and the huge old-fashioned brass knockerseemingly a brazen hand that had been cut off at the wrist, and nailed against the oak as a warning to malefactorsextended itself in a kind of grim appeal to everybody. It seemed to possess strange fascinations for all seafaring folk; and when there was a man-of-war in port the rat-tat-tat of that knocker would frequently startle the quiet neighborhood long after midnight. There appeared to be an occult understanding between it and the blue-jackets. Years ago there was a young Bilkins, one Pendexter Bilkinsa sad losel, we fearwho ran away to try his fortunes before the mast, and fell overboard in a gale off Hatteras. Lost at sea, says the chubby marble slab in the Old South Burying-Ground, ætat 18. Perhaps that is why no blue-jacket, sober or drunk, was ever repulsed from the door of the Bilkins mansion.
Of course Mrs. Bilkins had her taste in the matter, and preferred them sober. But as this could not always be, she tempered her wind, so to speak, to the shorn lamb. The flushed, prematurely old face that now looked up at her moved the good ladys pity.
What do you want? she asked kindly.
Me wife.
There s no wife for you here, said Mrs. Bilkins, somewhat taken aback. His wife! she thought; its a mother the poor boy stands in need of.
Me wife, repeated Mr. ORourke, for betther or for worse.
You had better go away, said Mrs. Bilkins, bridling up, or it will be the worse for you.
To have and to howld, continued Mr. ORourke, wandering retrospectively in the mazes of the marriage service, to have and to howld, till deathbad luck to him!takes one or the ither of us.
You re a blasphemous creature, said Mrs. Bilkins, severely.
Thim s the words his riverince spake this mornin, standin foreninst us, explained Mr. ORourke. I stood here, see, and me jewl stood there, and the howly chaplain beyont.
And Mr. ORourke with a wavering forefinger drew a diagram of the interesting situation on the door-step.
Well, returned Mrs. Bilkins, if you re a married man, all I have to say is, theres a pair of fools instead of one. You had better be off; the person you want does nt live here.
Bedad, thin, but she does.
Lives here?
Sorra a place else.
The mans crazy, said Mrs. Bilkins to herself.
While she thought him simply drunk she was not in the least afraid; but the idea that she was conversing with a madman sent a chill over her. She reached back her hand preparatory to shutting the door, when Mr. ORourke, with an agility that might have been expected from his previous gymnastics, set one foot on the threshold and frustrated the design.
I want me wife, he said sternly.
Unfortunately, Mr. Bilkins had gone up town, and there was no one in the house except Margaret, whose pluck was not to be depended on. The case was urgent. With the energy of despair Mrs. Bilkins suddenly placed the toe of her boot against Mr. ORourkes invading foot, and pushed it away. The effect of this attack was to cause Mr. ORourke to describe a complete circle on one leg, and then sit down heavily on the threshold. The lady retreated to the hat-stand, and rested her hand mechanically on the handle of a blue cotton umbrella. Mr. ORourke partly turned his head and smiled upon her with conscious superiority. At this juncture a third actor appeared on the scene, evidently a friend of Mr. ORourke, for he addressed that gentleman as a spalpeen, and told him to go home.
Divil an inch, replied the spalpeen; but he got himself off the threshold, and returned his position on the step.
Its only Larry, mum, said the man, touching his forelock politely; as dacent a lad as iver lived, when he s not in liquor; an I ve known him to be sober for days to-gither, he added, reflectively. He dont mane a haporth o harum, but jist now hes not quite in his right moind.
I should think not, said Mrs. Bilkins, turning from the speaker to Mr. ORourke, who had seated himself gravely on the scraper, and was weeping. Hasnt the man any friends?
Too many of em, mum, an its along wid dhrinkin toasts wid em that Larry got throwed. The punch that spalpeen has dhrunk this day would amaze ye. He give us the slip awhiles ago, bad cess to him, an come up here. Did nt I tell ye, Larry, not to be afther ringin at the owld gintlemans knocker? Aint ye got no sinse at all?
Misther Donnehugh, responded Mr. ORourke with great dignity, ye re dhrunk agin.
Mr. Donnehugh, who had not taken more than thirteen ladles of rum-punch, disdained to reply directly.
Hes a dacent lad enoughthis to Mrs. Bilkinsbut his head is wake. Whin hes had two sups o whiskey he belaves hes dhrunk a barl full. A gill o wather out of a jimmy-john d fuddle him, mum.
Is nt there anybody to look after him?
No, mum, hes an orphan; his father and mother live in the owld counthry, an a fine hale owld couple they are.
Has nt he any family in the town