The Marriage of Esther. Boothby Guy
He regarded his companion steadily for half a minute, and then sat up. Their location seemed to puzzle him. He looked at Ellison for an explanation.
"What the deuce are we doing up here?"
"I don't know. We came, I'm sure I couldn't tell you why. You were most uncommonly drunk last night, if that could have had anything to do with it."
"I suppose I must have been; at any rate I feel most uncommonly bad this morning. Anything happen?"
"You insulted a man; he hit you, I hit him."
"Result – you?"
"This! And this!"
"He?"
"Broken jaw!"
"I'm obliged to you. This is not the first debt of the kind I owe you. At the same time I suppose I ought to apologise?"
"Pray spare yourself the trouble."
"Thank you, I think I will. I hate being under obligations to any man, particularly a friend. And now, mon ami, what are we going to do next? I have a sort of hazy idea that we did not make ourselves as popular as we might have done yesterday."
"I think you managed to openly insult nine-tenths of the population, if that's what you mean."
"Very likely. It's the effect of a public school education, you know. But to return to my question, what are we going to do next?"
"Directly civilization gets up I'm going into the township."
"In search of breakfast?"
"No; in search of employment."
"The deuce! I must indeed have been drunk yesterday not to have noticed this change coming over you. And pray what do you want to work for?"
"Because I have made up my mind to have done with this sort of life; because I want to save myself while there's time; because I want to be able to look the world in the face again. If you really are so anxious to know, that's why."
"You remind me of our old friend the village blacksmith. Hadn't he some ambition that way, eh?
"'He looked the whole world in the face,
For he owed not any man!'
Wasn't that it? I always did think him a bad business man. He didn't seem to realize that credit is the backbone of the commercial anatomy. Anyhow yours is a foolish reasoning – a very foolish reasoning. What possible desire can a man of your training have to look the world in the face? What will you see when you do look there? Only inquiries into your past, a distrust of your present, and a resolve to have no more to do with your future than is absolutely necessary. Personally, I find the world's back a good deal worthier of cultivation."
"All the same I intend to try to find something to do."
"Pray don't let me stop you. One more question, however: What does your Serene Mightiness intend for me? I doubt if I am a good worker, but I am at liberty to accept any remunerative post within your gift, Chancellorship of one of your Duchies, for instance; Mastership of your Imperial Majesty's Hounds; Keeper of the Privy Purse; Lord Cham – "
"You can scoff as much as you please; you won't alter my determination. I am going now. Good-morning!"
"Your majesty will find me still in waiting when you return unsuccessful."
"Good-morning!"
"If your Majesty has time to think about such mundane matters, your Majesty might endeavour to induce one of your confiding subjects to lend the Imperial kitchen a little flour. If I had it now I might be making a damper during your Majesty's absence."
"Good-morning!"
"Good-morning!"
Ellison turned his face in the direction of the settlement and strode off round the hill. He had not the slightest expectation of finding any lucrative employment when he got there, but he was full of the desire to work. If he failed this time it should not be imputed against him as his own fault. He at least was eager, and if society did not give him the wherewithal upon which to spend his energy, then it must be set against his score with society. In the devotion of the present it seemed to him that all his past was atoned for and blotted out. And under the influence of this sudden glow of virtuous resolution he left the hill and entered the township.
Already the sea-front was astir with the business of the new-born day. As he approached the principal store he descried the bulky figure of the proprietor upon the jetty, superintending the unloading of some cases from a boat lying alongside it. Pulling himself together he crossed the road and accosted him.
"Mr. Tugwell, I believe?" he began, raising his tattered cabbage-tree with a touch of his old politeness.
The merchant turned and looked him up and down.
"Yes, that is certainly my name. What can I do for you?"
"I am in search of employment. I thought perhaps you could help me."
"I don't seem to remember your face, somehow. You are a stranger in the island?"
"I only arrived yesterday. I am an Englishman. I don't want to whine, but I might add that I was once an English gentleman."
"Dear me! You look as if you had been making rough weather of it lately."
"Very. As a proof, I may tell you that I have not eaten a mouthful since I landed from my boat yesterday morning."
"What can you do? I am in want of an experienced hand to pack shell. Can you qualify?"
"I have never tried, but I dare say I could soon learn."
"Ah, that's a horse of a different colour. I have no time to waste teaching you. It's a pity, but that's the only way I can help you. Stay, here's something that will enable you to get a breakfast."
He balanced a shilling on the ends of his fingers. The morning sunlight sparkled on its milled edge. For a moment Ellison looked longingly at it, then he turned on his heel.
"I asked you for work, not for charity. Good-morning!"
"You are foolish. Good-morning!"
Leaving the jetty Ellison went on up the beach. But before he had gone a hundred yards a thought struck him. He turned again and hurried back. The merchant was just entering the store.
"I have come back to beg your pardon," he said hastily; "I acted like a cad. It will go hard with me if I lose my manners as well as my birthright. You will forgive me, I hope?"
"Willingly, on one condition."
"What is that?"
"That you will let me make the amount half a crown."
"You are very generous, but I cannot accept alms, thank you."
With an apology for having so long detained him, Ellison continued his walk down the beach. Hong Kong Joe was in his boat-building yard, laying the keel of a new lugger. Approaching him he came to the point straight away:
"I am in search of work. Have you any to give me?"
The boat-builder straightened himself up, looked his questioner in the face, ran his eye round the tattered shirt, and arrived at the moleskin trousers. When he got higher up the bruised eye seemed to decide him.
"Not with that eye, thank you," he said. "When I want one, I can get my pick of fighting-men in the settlement without employing a stranger."
"Then you don't want me?"
"No, thank you."
"You can't put me in the way of finding any employment, I suppose? God knows I want it pretty badly."
"Try Mah Poo's store on the Front. I heard him say yesterday he wanted a steady, respectable chap, so you should just about qualify. No harm in trying, anyway."
Thanking him for his advice, and ignoring the sarcasm contained in it, Ellison walked on to the Chinaman's shop. The Celestial was even less complimentary than the boat-builder, for without waiting to answer the applicant's inquiries, he went into his house and slammed the door. At any time it hurts to have a door banged in one's face, but when it is done by a Chinaman the