The Mermaid in the Basement (34 page)
The remark pleased David. “Yes,” he said. “Can we cook these fish and eat them?”
“I don’t know if the cook would let us do that.”
“She will if Mum tells her to.”
The two turned and headed toward the house, Dylan carrying the bucket, and David carrying his pole. As they approached the house, Serafina came out. “Well, did you two fishermen catch anything?”
“Mum, we caught six! I caught four myself, and I caught the biggest one.”
“Is that right? Let me see them.”
David eagerly displayed the fish in the bucket and said,“Mum, I want to cook these fish myself.Will you tell cook to let us?”
“Why, she’d be glad to do it for you, David.”
“No, I caught them, and I want to cook them and eat them.”
“Well, can I have a bite if you do?”
“Yes! Come on. Let’s go do it now.”
David ran on ahead, and Dylan picked up the bucket. He started for the house beside Serafina, and she said, “I’m worried, Dylan.”
“About Clive?”
“It’s that blasted code, the cypher. I’ve tried almost everything I know, but I can’t crack it. I can’t interpret it. I’ve been thinking about going to an expert somewhere.”
“I didn’t know there were experts in that.”
“Yes, I’m sure there are. There are experts in almost everything now.”
“Well, I’ll be leaving after lunch to go search for that man with a hook.”He hesitated, then said, “I ran into a sad thing.A young girl named Callie and her brother, Paco . . .” He told the story of the children and of the mother who was so sick, and made little of his own part of it.
“She needs to see a doctor, Dylan. I’ll be glad to pay for it.”
“Oh, I took a doctor by, and he gave her some medicine. I’m hoping she’ll be better, but I was looking at Paco. He’s a fine-looking boy, and his sister, Callie, too. Her full name is Calandra Montevado. Her mother’s full-blooded Spanish, I think. She’s a beautiful child, well, not a child really. You know that age between twelve and thirteen, when a young girl turns into a young woman.” He thought deeply for a moment and said, “That’s no place for her.”
Serafina had come to expect this from Dylan. She knew he had a compassion for weak, frail things, be they persons or animals, and she found it pleasing. “I’ll give you some money, and you can use it to help them if you’d like, Dylan.”
“They need so much. Clothes, food, medicine. Thank you, Viscountess, that’s kind of you.”
The two reached the kitchen and found David already explaining to Nessa, the cook, about the plan. “. . . So we’re going to cook the fish, me and Mr. Dylan, ourselves.”
Nessa looked up at Serafina, and Serafina winked and nodded. “Well, that is fine, Master David, just fine! I’ll tell you what. I’ll get all the pots and pans you’ll need and all the spices, and if you need a bit of advice now and then, I’ll be right here.”
“Thank you, Nessa,” David said, his face shining, and turning, he said, “Come on, Dylan.”
“
Mr.
Dylan,” Serafina said.
“Oh, that’s all right when we’re alone. He can put a Mr. on me if we’re ever in company together. Come on now. Let’s see how these fish are going to be turned into something good to eat.”
Dylan, David, and Serafina sat down at the table in the kitchen. David had been so excited about cooking the fish that he had been almost unmanageable. Serafina had whispered once to Dylan, “He’s so excited. It’s good of you to do this.”
“My pleasure, it is. He’s a fine boy, Viscountess.”
The fish had been fried in fat and was now on a platter. Nessa had gotten permission to make a salad, but David was interested only in the fish. “This is the big one. I know I caught him. Here,Mum, you can have half of it.”
“Why, that’s very generous of you, Son,” Serafina said. She took the portion of fish and warned, “You be careful now. You pick the bones out.”
“I will,Mum.”
Nessa had fixed hot bread, and as they ate, David suddenly said, “Mum, Mr. Dylan didn’t have anybody to take him fishing when he was little.”
“Is that right, Dylan?”
“Well, you know I lost my parents when I was very young. I went into the coal mine. After a shift in one of those places, a boy’s too tired to do much but sleep. Anyway,” he said, “God’s given me a good fishing partner now.” He reached over and pinched David’s ear.
David said, “Ouch,” but grinned at the gesture.
They ate the fish, and afterward Nessa said, “I baked a plum pudding.
Would you care for a little of that?”
“I would,” David said at once.
“You’re going to pop,” Serafina warned, “but I guess a little bit won’t hurt.”
Dylan, as he was accustomed to do, gave a brief prayer of thanks just for the pudding. “Thank you, Lord, for this good, fine pudding. I doubt the angels have anything better.”
David tasted the plum pudding, but it was too hot. He blew on the spoon and asked, “Did you ever see an angel, Mr. Dylan?”
“Not that I know of, but I may have.”He leaned forward and whispered in a confidential tone, “You know angels come to this earth in disguise.”
“They do?”
“Yes indeed. Sometimes you meet a poor fellow dressed in rags and looking like he’s on his last leg, but under that disguise there may be a bright, shining, mighty angel. That’s the reason,” he added, “when I see a poor beggar I always try to give them something.You know what I’d hate?”
“What, Mr. Dylan?”
“I’d hate when I go to heaven to have an angel come to me and say, ‘I was that beggar outside your door. You had money in your pocket, but you didn’t help me.Why didn’t you do that?’”
David’s eyes were like saucers, and he began to ask questions about angels.
Serafina listened and marveled at Dylan’s ability to weave his Christian beliefs into ordinary conversations. Most people she knew were nominal Christians at best. They had everything in neat compartments—so much time for work, so much for family, so much for playing games—and perhaps a little slice left over for God. She had always felt there was something wrong with this, but now she had met a man whose entire being was saturated with a love of God, and it disturbed her.
“I want you to pray for my Uncle Clive, Mr. Dylan. If you pray, you can get him home again.”
Dylan was startled. He did not want to offend Serafina, whom he knew did not like religious talk, so he simply said, “Of course I’ll pray for your uncle.”
“And God will get him out of the prison?”
Again Dylan hesitated. He did not want the boy to see anything like doubt in him, so he smiled and nodded. “We know that God is good, don’t we?”
They finished the meal, and David went upstairs to take his nap. Dylan prepared to leave. “I’ve got a lot of people to check with. I asked Callie and her brother to be on the lookout for a man with a steel hook for a hand.”
“I thought about going to Superintendent Winters. He offered to help.”
“I suppose he could.”
Serafina shook her head. “I don’t know, Dylan. I’m tired. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“I can tell you what to do.”
“What?”
“Go to church with me in the morning.”
Serafina straightened and looked Dylan directly in the eye. It was the first time he had asked this. “You know I don’t go to church.”
“You’re a scientist, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, that’s what I am, I suppose.”
“I thought scientists were supposed to examine all the evidence before they made a conclusion.”
“They are, but what—”
“I don’t think you examined the other side of the evidence. Your father has taught you about the material world, but there’s another world.” He was looking at her with a strange expression, a half smile but with a gleam in his eye that she could not interpret. “I wish you’d go with me, Serafina,” he said quietly.
Serafina knew he would say no more, and impulsively she said, “All right, I’ll go with you, Dylan.”
“Fine! I’ll be by to pick you up in the morning.”
S
erafina had puzzled over how to dress for her visit to church with Dylan. S
She
went through her wardrobe twice, and finally settled on a modest pearl grey skirt and jacket with dark green buttons. The only ornament was a touch of delicate white lace, edged with green, that showed at the opening of the tight-fitting, short jacket.
She paused before her mirror, studied her face, and passed her hand over her hair, which fell loosely down her back. “Well, I don’t know if this is a proper churchgoing outfit or not, but it will have to do.” Turning, she walked out of her room, and as she approached the stairs, she saw her father coming down the hall from the opposite direction. “Good morning, Father.”
“Good morning, Serafina. Where are you off to this morning?” Septimus was carelessly dressed. He wore a pair of tired brown trousers with frayed cuffs, a white shirt with no necktie, and a green smoking jacket, although he never smoked.
For a moment Serafina was tempted to prevaricate, but she had always been able to talk with her father about anything, and anticipating his response, she smiled, saying, “Why, I’m going to church, Father.”
As Serafina had expected, her father reacted strongly to her announcement. His eyes flew open, and she knew that he thought he had misunderstood her. “To church?” he said. “Why, you never go to church!”
“Well, I’m going this morning.Dylan wanted me to go with him, and I promised that I would.He spends so much time with David, Father, and that’s meant a lot to him. And this is the only thing he ever asked of me.
He wasn’t pushy about it at all. He just simply asked me if I would go. I hated to say no, so here I am.”
“Going to church.” Septimus shook his head. “I don’t remember the last time either of us went to church.”
“Well, I’m going as an experiment.”
“An experiment?”
“Yes. Dylan told me that a true scientist will look at both sides of a truth. I’ve looked at the rational side of man and his being for many years now, so I think it’s time that I look at the other side.”
Septimus stared at her and shook his head. “That may be a good thing, Serafina. I’ve often wished that I had given more attention to that side of man’s being.”
“Well, it’s not too late, Father.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Would you care to go with me?”
“No, I think one of us at a time will be sufficient.”
Serafina kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”
She left her father with a puzzled look on his face and understood his problem. He had never been an anti-Christian man. He would never give a rebuke to those who chose to go the way of the church and of Jesus Christ.
Even as Serafina was on her way down the stairs, she heard the knock at the door and saw Daisy, her mother’s maid, go to answer it. Serafina heard her greet Dylan by name. “Come in, Mr. Tremayne.”
“Thank you, Daisy,” Dylan said. He stepped inside and said, “You’re looking very nice today.” Daisy, a meek young girl of twenty-four years, smiled and looked down at her feet.
Even as Serafina approached, she could see the flush on the maid’s cheek.
He has a way with women,
she thought, but she had noted that before. As she approached, she saw him look at her with approval in his eyes. “Good morning, Dylan.”
“Good morning, Viscountess. You look very nice this morning.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what kind of costume to wear to church.”
“Almost any costume will do. You’ll see some dressed in finery, others almost in rags. Are you ready?”
Dylan stepped back and opened the door, and as she stepped outside, she heard Dylan say, “Daisy, you’ll have to come to Mr. Spurgeon’s church one day. You would like it, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tremayne. I would like it very much.”
Dylan had hired a carriage, and he helped her into it, then told the driver, “New Park Street Chapel. Do you know it?”
“Why would I not know it? Everybody knows Mr. Spurgeon’s church.”
Dylan winked at him, got into the carriage, and sat across from Serafina. She noticed that he was versed in social amenities such as this. “Mr. Spurgeon seems very well known,” she said. “Does he have a title?”
“You mean like Bishop
,
something like that?”
“Yes.”
“No, as a matter of fact, he’s never been ordained.”
Serafina, who only knew the workings of the Church of England, was surprised by this. “Not ordained? I thought one had to be ordained to preach.”
“Well, it is customary.”Dylan shrugged. He was immaculately dressed in a black jacket and faintly striped trousers. His cravat was perfectly tied, and Serafina knew that he was one of those men who could put on any sort of clothing and make it look as if it were tailored especially for him. Other men, she knew, no matter how much they spent, always looked as if they were wearing somebody’s cast-off clothing.
“I’ve been reading what the newspapers have to say about Mr. Spurgeon,” she said. “He seems to have created quite a furor in the ecclesiastical world.”
“Not of his making,Viscountess.”Dylan shook his head firmly. “He’s not a political man at all, but God has blessed him so greatly in building a great church that some in the Establishment are a little upset. They think that religion has to go through channels.”