<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></SPAN>CHAPTER III</h2>
<h3>THE AIR-RAID</h3>
<h4>I</h4>
<p>"There wasn't no 'ome life in England until the Kayser started
a-droppin' bombs in people's back-yards," remarked Bindle oracularly.
"Funny thing," he continued, "'ow everybody seemed to find out 'ow
fond they was of settin' at 'ome because they was afraid o' goin'
out."</p>
<p>Mr. Hearty looked at Mr. Gupperduck and Mr. Gupperduck
looked at Mrs. Bindle. They required time in which to assimilate
so profound an utterance.</p>
<p>Mr. Gupperduck had firmly established himself in the good
graces of Mr. Hearty and the leaders of the Alton Road Chapel.
He was a constant visitor at the Heartys', especially at meal
times, and at the chapel he prayed with great fervour, beating
all records as far as endurance was concerned.</p>
<p>"I don't agree with you," remarked Mr. Gupperduck at length,
"I do not agree with you. The Scriptures say, 'Every man to
his family.'"</p>
<p>Mr. Hearty looked gratefully at his guest. It was pleasant
to find Bindle controverted.</p>
<p>"You know, Alf, you never been so much at 'ome," wheezed
Mrs. Hearty, hitting her chest remorselessly. "You never go out
on moonlight nights."</p>
<p>"You trust 'im," said Bindle. "'Earty an' the moon ain't
never out together."</p>
<p>"We are told to take cover," said Mr. Hearty with dignity.</p>
<p>"An' wot about us pore fellers wot 'as to be out in it all?"
demanded Bindle, looking down at his special constable's uniform.</p>
<p>"You should commend yourself to God," said Mr. Gupperduck
piously. "He that putteth his trust in Him shall not be afraid."</p>
<p>"Ain't you afraid then when there's a raid on?" demanded
Bindle.</p>
<p>"I have no fear of earthly things," replied Mr. Gupperduck,
lifting his eyes to the ceiling.</p>
<p>"'E's all Gupperduck an' camelflage, ain't 'e, Millikins?"
whispered Bindle to his niece. Then aloud he said: "Well, Mrs.
B. ain't like you! She's afraid like all the rest of us. I don't<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</SPAN></span>
believe much in coves wot say they ain't afraid. You ask the
boys back from France. You don't 'ear them a-sayin' they ain't
afraid. They knows too much for that."</p>
<p>"There is One above who watches over us all, Joseph," said Mr. Hearty,
emboldened to unaccustomed temerity by the presence of Mr. Gupperduck.</p>
<p>"Mr. Bindle," said Mr. Gupperduck, "our lives and our happiness
are in God's hands, wherefore should we feel afraid?"</p>
<p>"Well, well!" remarked Bindle, with resignation, "you an'
'Earty beat me when it comes to pluck. When I'm out with all
them guns a-goin', an' bombs a-droppin' about, I'd sooner be
somewhere else, an' I ain't a-goin' to say different. P'raps it's
because I'm an 'eathen."</p>
<p>"The hour of repentance should not be deferred," said Mr.
Gupperduck. "It is not too late even now."</p>
<p>"It's no good," said Bindle decisively. "I should never be
able to feel as brave as wot you are when there's a raid on."</p>
<p>"'Oh ye of little faith!'" murmured Mr. Gupperduck mournfully.</p>
<p>"Think of Daniel in the lions' den," said Mrs. Bindle.
"And Jonah in the—er—interior of the whale," added Mr.
Hearty with great delicacy.</p>
<p>"No," remarked Bindle, shaking his head with conviction,
"I wasn't made for lions, or whales. I suppose I'm a bit of a
coward."</p>
<p>"I don't feel brave when there's a raid, Uncle Joe," said
Millie Hearty loyally. She had been a silent listener. "And
mother isn't either, are you, mums?" she turned to Mrs. Hearty.</p>
<p>"It's my breath," responded Mrs. Hearty, patting her ample
bosom. "It gets me here."</p>
<p>"That's because you don't go to chapel, Martha," said Bindle.
"If you was to turn up there three times on Sundays you'd be as
brave as wot Mr. Gupperduck is. Ain't that so?" he enquired,
turning to Mr. Gupperduck.</p>
<p>"You're always sneering at the chapel," broke in Mrs. Bindle,
without giving the lodger time to reply. "It doesn't do us any
harm, whatever you may think."</p>
<p>"That's jest where you're wrong, Mrs. B.," remarked Bindle,
settling himself down for a controversy. "I ain't got nothink to
say against the chapel, if they'd only let you set quiet; but it's
such an up an' down sort o' life. When you ain't kneelin' down
a-askin' to be saved from wot you know you deserves, or kept
from doin' wot you're nuts on doin', you're a-standin' up a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</SPAN></span>singin'
'ymns about all sorts of uncomfortable things wot you says you 'opes
to find in 'eaven."</p>
<p>"You have a jaundiced view of religion, Mr. Bindle," said
Mr. Gupperduck ponderously. "A jaundiced view," he repeated,
pleased with the phrase.</p>
<p>"'Ave I really?" enquired Bindle anxiously. "I 'ope it ain't
catchin'. No," he continued meditatively, "I wasn't meant for
chapels. I seem to be able to think best about 'eaven when I'm
settin' smokin' after supper, with Mrs. B. a-bangin' at the stove
to remind me that I ain't there yet."</p>
<p>"Wot does me," he continued, "is that I never yet see any
of your chapel coves 'appier for all your singin' an' prayin'.
Why is it? Look at you three now! If you was goin' to be
plucked and trussed to-morrow, you couldn't look more fidgety."</p>
<p>Instinctively each of the three looked at the other two. Mr.
Gupperduck shook his head hopelessly.</p>
<p>"You don't understand, Joseph," murmured Mr. Hearty with
mournful resignation.</p>
<p>"I can understand Ruddy Bill gettin' drunk," Bindle continued,
"because 'e do look 'appy when 'e's got a skin-full; but
I can't understand you a-wantin' to pray, 'Earty, I can't really.
I only once see a lot o' religious people 'appy, an' that was
when they got drunk by mistake. Lord, didn't they teach me
an' ole 'Uggles things! 'E blushes like a gal when I mentions
it. 'Uggles 'as a nice mind, 'e 'as.</p>
<p>"Well, I must be goin', 'Earty, in case them 'Uns come over
to-night. You ought to be a special, 'Earty, there's some rare
fine gals on Putney 'Ill."</p>
<p>"Do you think there'll be an air-raid to-night?" asked Mr.
Gupperduck with something more than casual interest in his
voice.</p>
<p>"May be," said Bindle casually, "may be not. Funny things,
air-raids, they've changed a rare lot o' things," he remarked
meditatively. "Once we used to want the moon to come out,
sort o' made us think of gals and settin' on stiles. Mrs. B. was
a rare one for moons and stiles, wasn't you, Lizzie?"</p>
<p>"Don't be disgusting, Bindle." There was anger in Mrs.
Bindle's voice.</p>
<p>"Now," continued Bindle imperturbably, "no cove don't want
to go out an' set on a stile a-'oldin' of a gal's 'and: not 'im.
When 'is job's done, 'e starts orf for 'ome like giddy-o, an' you
don't see 'is nose again till the next mornin'."</p>
<p>Bindle paused to wink at Mr. Hearty.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"If there's any gal now," he continued, "wot wants 'er 'and
'eld on moonlight nights, she'll 'ave to 'old it 'erself, or wait till
peace comes."</p>
<p>"If you would only believe, Mr. Bindle," said Mr. Gupperduck
earnestly, making a final effort at Bindle's salvation.
"'If thou canst believe, all things are possible.' Ah!"</p>
<p>Mr. Gupperduck started into an upright position with eyes
dilated as a loud report was heard.</p>
<p>"What was that?" he cried.</p>
<p>"That," remarked Bindle drily, as he rose and picked up his
peaked cap, "is the signal for you an' 'Earty to put your trust
in Gawd. In other words," he added, "it's a gun, 'im wot Fulham
calls 'The Barker.'"</p>
<p>Bindle looked from Mr. Hearty, leaden-hued with fright, to
Mr. Gupperduck, whose teeth were chattering, on to Mrs. Bindle,
who was white to the lips.</p>
<p>"Well, I must be orf," he said, adjusting his cap upon his
head at a rakish angle. "If I don't come back, Mrs. B., you'll
be a widow, an' widows are wonderful things. Cheer-o! all."</p>
<p>Bindle turned and left the room, his niece Millie following him
out into the passage.</p>
<p>"Uncle Joe," she said, clutching hold of his coat sleeve, "you
will be careful, won't you?" Then with a little catch in her
voice, she added, "You know you are the only Uncle Joe I've
got."</p>
<p>And Bindle went out into the night where the guns thundered
and the shrapnel burst in sinister white stabs in the sky,
whilst over all brooded the Great Queen of the heavens, bathing
in her white peace the red war of pigmies.</p>
<h4>II</h4>
<p>Two hours later Bindle's ring at the Heartys' bell was answered
by Millie.</p>
<p>"Oh, Uncle Joe!" she cried joyfully, "I'm so glad you're back
safe. Hasn't it been dreadful?" Her lower lip quivered a little.</p>
<p>"You ain't been frightened, Millikins, 'ave you?" enquired
Bindle solicitously.</p>
<p>"A soldier's wife isn't afraid, Uncle Joe," she replied bravely.
Millie's sweetheart, Charlie Dixon, was at the front.</p>
<p>"My! ain't we gettin' a woman, Millikins," cried Bindle,
putting his arm affectionately round her shoulders and kissing her
cheek loudly. "Everybody all right?" he enquired.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Yes, I think so, Uncle Joe, but," she squeezed his arm,
"I'm so glad you're back. I've been thinking of you all the
time. Every time there was a big bang I—I wondered——"</p>
<p>"Well, well!" interrupted Bindle, "we ain't goin' to be down-'earted,
are we? It's over now, you'll 'ear the 'All Clear' in a
few minutes."</p>
<p>Bindle walked into the Heartys' parlour, where Mrs. Hearty
was seated on the sofa half asleep.</p>
<p>"'Ullo, Martha!" he cried.</p>
<p>"Ah! Joe," she said, "I'm glad you're back. I'm afraid
there's been a lot of——" Her breath failed her, and she broke
off into a wheeze.</p>
<p>Bindle looked about him curiously.</p>
<p>"'Ullo! wot's 'appened to them three little cherubs?" he
enquired.</p>
<p>Mrs. Hearty began to shake and wheeze with laughter, and
Millie stood looking at Bindle.</p>
<p>"Wot's 'appened, Millikins?" he enquired. "Done a bunk,
'ave they?"</p>
<p>"They're—they're in the potato-cellar, Uncle Joe," said Millie
without the ghost of a smile. Somehow it seemed to her almost
like a reflection on her own courage that her father and aunt
should have thought only of their personal safety.</p>
<p>Bindle slapped his leg with keen enjoyment. "Well, I'm
blowed!" he cried, "if that ain't rich. Three people wot was
talkin' about puttin' their trust in Gawd a-goin' into that little
funk-'ole. Well, I'm blowed!"</p>
<p>"Don't laugh, Uncle Joe," began Millie, "I—I——" She
broke off, unable to express what was in her mind.</p>
<p>"Don't you worry, Millikins," he replied as he moved towards
the door. "I'd better go and tell 'em that it's all right."</p>
<p>Mr. Hearty's potato-cellar was reached through a trap-door
flush with the floor of the shop.</p>
<p>With the aid of an electric torch, Bindle looked about him.
His eyes fell on a large pair of scales, on which were weights up
to 7 lbs. This gave him an idea. Carefully placing a box beside
the trap-door, he lifted the scales and weights in his arms and,
with great caution, mounted on to the top of the box. Suddenly
he let the scales and weights fall with a tremendous crash, full
in the centre of the trap-door, at the same time giving vent to
a shout. Millie came running in from the parlour.</p>
<p>"Oh! Uncle Joe, what has happened?" she cried. "Are
you hurt?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"It's all right, Millikins, knocked over these 'ere scales I did.
Ain't I clumsy? 'Ush!"</p>
<p>Moans and cries could be distinctly heard from below.</p>
<p>"'Ere, 'elp me gather 'em up, Millikins. I 'ope I 'aven't
broken the scales."</p>
<p>Having replaced the scales and weights on the counter, Bindle
proceeded to pull up the trap-door.</p>
<p>"All clear!" he shouted cheerily.</p>
<p>There was no response, only a moaning from the extreme
corner of the cellar.</p>
<p>"'Ere, come along, 'Earty. Wot d'you two mean by takin'
my missis down into a cellar like that?"</p>
<p>"Is it gone?" quavered a voice that Bindle assumed must be
that of Mr. Gupperduck.</p>
<p>"Is wot gone?" he enquired.</p>
<p>"The bomb," whispered the voice.</p>
<p>"Oh, come up, Gupperduck," said Bindle. "Don't play the
giddy goat in the potato-cellar. Wot about you puttin' your trust
in Gawd?"</p>
<p>There was a sound of movement below. A few moments later Mr.
Gupperduck's face appeared within the radius of light. He had lost his
spectacles and his upper set of false teeth. His hair was awry and his
face distorted with fear. He climbed laboriously up the steps leading
to the shop. He was followed by Mr. Hearty, literally yellow with
terror.</p>
<p>"Wot 'ave you done with my missis?" demanded Bindle.</p>
<p>"She—she—she's down there," stuttered Mr. Gupperduck.</p>
<p>"Then you two jolly well go down and fetch 'er up, or I'll
kick you down," cried Bindle angrily. "Nice sort of sports you
are, leavin' a woman alone in an 'ole like that, after takin' er
down there."</p>
<p>Mr. Hearty and Mr. Gupperduck looked at Bindle and then at
each other. Slowly they turned and descended the ladder again.
For some minutes they could be heard moving about below, then
Mr. Hearty appeared with Mrs. Bindle's limp form clasped round
the waist, whilst Mr. Gupperduck pushed from behind.</p>
<p>For one moment a grin flitted across Bindle's features, then,
seeing Mrs. Bindle's pathetic plight, his manner changed.</p>
<p>"'Ere, Millikins, get some water," he cried. "Your Aunt
Lizzie's fainted."</p>
<p>Between them they half-carried, half-dragged Mrs. Bindle
into the parlour, where she was laid upon the sofa, vacated by
Mrs. Hearty. Her hands were chafed, water dabbed upon her<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span>
forehead, and a piece of brown paper burned under her nose by
Mrs. Hearty.</p>
<p>She had not lost consciousness; but stared about her in a
vague, half-dazed fashion.</p>
<p>Mr. Hearty and Mr. Gupperduck, who had retrieved his false
teeth, seemed thoroughly ashamed of themselves. It was Mr.
Hearty who suggested that Mrs. Bindle should spend the night
with them, as she was not in a fit condition to go home.</p>
<p>As he spoke, the "All Clear" signal rang out joyfully upon the
stillness without, two long-drawn-out notes that told of another
twenty-four hours of safety. Mr. Gupperduck straightened himself, Mr.
Hearty seemed to revive, and from Mrs. Bindle's eyes fled the
expression of fear.</p>
<p>"Well, I must be orf," said Bindle. "Look after my missis,
'Earty. You comin' along, Mr. G.?" he enquired of Mr. Gupperduck,
as, followed by Millie, he left the room.</p>
<p>"It was sweet of you not to laugh at them, Uncle Joe," said
Millie, as they stood at the door waiting for Mr. Gupperduck.</p>
<p>"Nobody didn't ought to mind sayin' they're afraid, Millikins,"
said Bindle, looking at the serious face before him; "but
I don't like a cove wot says 'e's brave, an' then turns out to 'ave
about as much 'eart as a shillin' rabbit. Come along, Mr. G.
Good night, Millikins, my dear. Are we down-'earted? No!"
and Bindle went out into the night, followed by a meek and
chastened Mr. Gupperduck.</p>
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