“There—­there—­was two of ’im !” ses the landlord, trembling and holding on to ’is wife’s arm, as they helped ’im up and got ’im in the chair.  “Two of ’im!”

“Two of wot?” ses his wife.

“Two—­two watchmen,” ses the landlord; “both exac’ly alike and both asking for ‘arf a pint o’ four ale.”

“Yes, yes,” ses ’is wife.

“You come and lay down, pa,” ses the gals.  “I tell you there was,” ses the landlord, getting ’is colour back, with temper.

“Yes, yes; I know all about it,” ses ’is wife.  “You come inside for a bit; and, Gertie, you bring your father in a soda—­a large soda.”

They got ‘im in arter a lot o’ trouble; but three times ’e came back as far as the door, ’olding on to them, and taking a little peep at me.  The last time he shook his ’ead at me, and said if I did it agin I could go and get my ’arf-pints somewhere else.

I finished the beer wot the actor ’ad left, and, arter telling the landlord I ’oped his eyesight ’ud be better in the morning, I went outside, and arter a careful look round walked back to the wharf.

I pushed the wicket open a little way and peeped in.  The actor was standing just by the fust crane talking to two of the hands off of the Saltram.  He’d got ’is back to the light, but ’ow it was they didn’t twig his voice I can’t think.

They was so busy talking that I crept along by the side of the wall and got to the office without their seeing me.  I went into the private office and turned out the gas there, and sat down to wait for ’im.  Then I ’eard a noise outside that took me to the door agin and kept me there, ’olding on to the door-post and gasping for my breath.  The cook of the Saltram was sitting on a paraffin-cask playing the mouth-orgin, and the actor, with ’is arms folded across his stummick, was dancing a horn-pipe as if he’d gorn mad.

I never saw anything so ridikerlous in my life, and when I recollected that they thought it was me, I thought I should ha’ dropped.

A night-watchman can’t be too careful, and I knew that it ’ud be all over Wapping next morning that I ’ad been dancing to a tuppenny-ha’penny mouth-orgin played by a ship’s cook.  A man that does ’is dooty always has a lot of people ready to believe the worst of ’im.

I went back into the dark office and waited, and by and by I ’eard them coming along to the gate and patting ’im on the back and saying he ought to be in a pantermime instead o’ wasting ’is time night-watching.  He left ’em at the gate, and then ’e came into the office smiling as if he’d done something clever.

“Wot d’ye think of me for a understudy?” he ses, laughing.  “They all thought it was you.  There wasn’t one of ’em ’ad the slightest suspicion —­not one.”

“And wot about my character?” I ses, folding my arms acrost my chest and looking at him.

“Character?” he ses, staring.  “Why, there’s no ’arm in dancing; it’s a innercent enjoyment.”