Deserted Page #3

"Deserted" by W. W. Jacobs is a short story that follows the harrowing experience of a man stranded on a deserted island. As he grapples with loneliness and despair, the narrative explores themes of isolation and the human spirit's resilience. Jacobs, known for his wit and keen observations, intertwines elements of humor with the stark reality of survival, ultimately reflecting on the nature of companionship and the search for meaning in desolation. The story combines vivid imagery and engaging characters, making it a poignant tale of human endurance in the face of abandonment.

• Short story

								

find them two buttons done up agin. Arter it had 'appened three times he
see 'ow it was, and he come to the belief that George was no more drunk
than wot he was, and that it was all a put-up thing between 'im and Mr.
Alfredi.

He went to bed then to think it over, and by the morning he 'ad made
up his mind to keep quiet and bide his time, as the saying is. He spoke
quite cheerful to Mr. Alfredi, and pretended to believe 'im when he said
that he 'ad been to the police-station about the clothes.

Two days arterwards he thought of something; he remembered me. He 'ad
found a dirty old envelope on the floor, and with a bit o' lead pencil
he wrote me a letter on the back of one o' the bills, telling me all his
troubles, and asking me to bring some clothes and rescue 'im. He stuck
on one of the stamps he 'ad found in George's pocket, and opening the
door just afore going to bed threw it out on the pavement.

The world is full of officious, interfering busy-bodies. I should no
more think of posting a letter that didn't belong to me, with an unused
stamp on it, than I should think o' flying; but some meddle-some son of
a ——a gun posted that letter and I got it.

I was never more surprised in my life. He asked me to be outside the
shop next night at ha'-past eleven with any old clothes I could pick up.
If I didn't, he said he should 'ang 'imself as the clock struck twelve,
and that his ghost would sit on the wharf and keep watch with me every
night for the rest o' my life. He said he expected it 'ud have a black
face, same as in life.

A wharf is a lonely place of a night; especially our wharf, which is
full of dark corners, and, being a silly, good-natured fool, I went.
I got a pal off of one of the boats to keep watch for me, and, arter
getting some old rags off of another sailorman as owed me arf a dollar,
I 'ad a drink and started off for the Mile End Road.

I found the place easy enough. The door was just on the jar, and as I
tapped on it with my finger-nails a wild-looking black man, arf naked,
opened it and said “H'sh!” and pulled me inside. There was a bit o'
candle on the floor, shaded by a box, and a man fast asleep and snoring
up in one corner. Rupert dressed like lightning, and he 'ad just put on
'is cap when the door at the back opened and a 'orrid fat black woman
came out and began to chatter.

Rupert told her to hush, and she 'ushed, and then he waved 'is hand to
'er to say “good-bye,” and afore you could say Jack Robinson she 'ad
grabbed up a bit o' dirty blanket, a bundle of assegais, and a spear,
and come out arter us.

“Back!” ses Rupert in a whisper, pointing.

'Back!' Ses Rupert in a Whisper, Pointing.

Kumbo shook her 'ead, and then he took hold of 'er and tried to shove
'er back, but she wouldn't go. I lent him a 'and, but all wimmen are the
same, black or white, and afore I knew where I was she 'ad clawed my cap
off and scratched me all down one side of the face.

“Walk fast,” ses Rupert.

I started to run, but it was all no good; Kumbo kept up with us easy,
and she was so pleased at being out in the open air that she began
to dance and play about like a kitten. Instead o' minding their own
business people turned and follered us, and quite a crowd collected.

“We shall 'ave the police in a minute,” ses Rupert. “Come in 'ere—
quick.”

He pointed to a pub up a side street, and went in with Kumbo holding on
to his arm. The barman was for sending us out at fust, but such a crowd
follered us in that he altered 'is mind. I ordered three pints, and,
while I was 'anding Rupert his, Kumbo finished 'ers and began on mine.
I tried to explain, but she held on to it like grim death, and in the
confusion Rupert slipped out.

He 'adn't been gone five seconds afore she missed 'im, and I never see
anybody so upset in all my life. She spilt the beer all down the place
where 'er bodice ought to ha' been, and then she dropped the pot and
went arter 'im like a hare. I follered in a different way, and when I
got round the corner I found she 'ad caught 'im and was holding 'im by
the arm.

O' course, the crowd was round us agin, and to get rid of 'em I did a
thing I'd seldom done afore—I called a cab, and we all bundled in and
drove off to the wharf, with the spear sticking out o' the window, and
most of the assegais sticking into me.

“This is getting serious,” ses Rupert.

“Yes,” I ses; “and wot 'ave I done to be dragged into it? You must ha'
been paying 'er some attention to make 'er carry on like this.”

I thought Rupert would ha' bust, and the things he said to the man wot
was spending money like water to rescue 'im was disgraceful.

We got to the wharf at last, and I was glad to see that my pal 'ad got
tired of night-watching and 'ad gone off, leaving the gate open. Kumbo
went in 'anging on to Rupert's arm, and I follered with the spear, which
I 'ad held in my 'and while I paid the cabman.

They went into the office, and Rupert and me talked it over while Kumbo
kept patting 'is cheek. He was afraid that the manager would track 'im
to the wharf, and I was afraid that the guv'nor would find out that I
'ad been neglecting my dooty, for the fust time in my life.

We talked all night pretty near, and then, at ha'-past five, arf an hour
afore the 'ands came on, I made up my mind to fetch a cab and drive 'em
to my 'ouse. I wanted Rupert to go somewhere else, but 'e said he 'ad
got nowhere else to go, and it was the only thing to get 'em off the
wharf. I opened the gates at ten minutes to six, and just as the fust
man come on and walked down the wharf we slipped in and drove away.

We was all tired and yawning. There's something about the motion of a
cab or an omnibus that always makes me feel sleepy, and arter a time I
closed my eyes and went off sound. I remember I was dreaming that I 'ad
found a bag o' money, when the cab pulled up with a jerk in front of my
'ouse and woke me up. Opposite me sat Kumbo fast asleep, and Rupert 'ad
disappeared!

I was dazed for a moment, and afore I could do anything Kumbo woke up
and missed Rupert. Wot made matters worse than anything was that my
missis was kneeling down in the passage doing 'er door-step, and 'er
face, as I got down out o' that cab with Kumbo 'anging on to my arm was
something too awful for words. It seemed to rise up slow-like from near
the door-step, and to go on rising till I thought it 'ud never stop. And
every inch it rose it got worse and worse to look at.

She Stood Blocking up the Doorway With Her 'ands on Her 'ips.

She stood blocking up the doorway with her 'ands on her 'ips, while I
explained, with Kumbo still 'anging on my arm and a crowd collecting
behind, and the more I explained, the more I could see she didn't
believe a word of it.

She never 'as believed it. I sent for Mr. Alfredi to come and take Kumbo
away, and when I spoke to 'im about Rupert he said I was dreaming, and

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