The Marriage of Esther. Boothby Guy
to self-respect – suppose he has been kicked out of house and home, deprived of his honour, disowned even by those who once loved him best – would you think it foolish if he attempted to find a City of Refuge in the Land of Alcohol?"
"Are you that man?"
Her face grew very gentle and her voice soft, as she put the question.
"I simply instance an example to confute your argument. May I change the subject? What is my work to be? Much must of course depend on that. Like the elephant, my strength is in my head rather than my hands, certainly not in my legs."
"Our store-keeper and book-keeper left us a month ago. Since then I have been doing his work. Are you good at figures?"
"Fairly; that sort of work would suit me admirably, and would, I believe, enable me to give you satisfaction. And, my friend – But here he comes to ask for himself."
Ellison was sauntering slowly up the path. He looked a fine figure of a man in the evening sunlight. His borrowed plumes fitted and suited him admirably. He lifted his hat with the air of a court chamberlain when he came to the veranda steps.
"I am glad to see you about again," he said to Murkard, who was examining him critically, "you certainly look better."
"I am, as I have already said, a different man."
"You look happier, certainly."
"I have just received my appointment to a position of trust."
Ellison glanced at the woman. She laughed and nodded.
"Yes, I have put him on as book-keeper and store-man. It's a billet worth a pound a week and his keep."
"It is very generous of you."
"Oh, but that's not all. If you care to stay you can do so as general knockabout hand on the same terms. There will be a good deal that will want looking to now that you've disabled Paddy the Lasher. You can occupy the hut where you are now, and I'll tell Rhotoma Jimmy to serve your meals in the barracks across the way."
"I hope we shall show ourselves worthy of your trust."
"I hope you will; but no more black eyes, remember. The sooner you get rid of the one you're wearing the better I shall like you. You'll find my father, when he returns, will take to you sooner without it. And now you'd better go and get your teas."
She rose to go inside. They stepped from the veranda. Ellison happened to look round. Her head was half turned, and she was watching him. Their eyes met, and the next moment she had vanished into the house.
The two men walked across to their hut in silence. When they reached it, they sat themselves down on their respective beds and looked at each other. Murkard opened the conversation.
"You were going to say that you cannot imagine why she has done this? Isn't that so?"
"Yes. I was just going to do so. How on earth did you guess it?"
"Never mind that. But you've got hold of the wrong end of the stick, my boy. She's not doing it for the reason you suppose. Would it surprise you very much to be told that in all probability it is done for my sake. No, don't laugh; and yet I really do think it is, and I'll tell you why. There was uncertainty written in her face and, well, if I must say it, a little bit of distrust of you, until I appeared upon the scene. Then you know my way with women. I told her the plain, unvarnished truth, without any compliments or gilt edging of any sort. Painted myself as a gentleman gone a-mucker, hopeless cripple, etc., etc. Then she dropped that infernal business air, and her womanly side came uppermost. That decided for us – I am appointed Paymaster-General; while you, if you play your cards well, may be anything from Grand Vizier downward. I think you have reason to congratulate yourself."
"Murkard, you are playing fair, aren't you?"
Murkard turned white as death.
"Playing fair! you are playing fair, aren't you? What the devil makes you use those infernal words to me again? My God, man! do you want to send me into hell a raving lunatic?"
He ran his fingers through his long hair and glared at his companion, who sat too astonished at this sudden outburst to speak. But after a few moments he cooled down and resumed his natural, half-cynical tone:
"I beg your pardon. Hope I didn't startle you very much. Habit of mine. What beastly things words are. How they bring up like a flash the very things one's been trying for years to forget. Yes, yes! I intend to do my duty by this girl. I promise you that. By the way, that's the second time you've asked me that question this afternoon."
"I wanted to make certain, that was all. What are you staring at? Are you mad?"
"No, I think not. I was only wondering."
Ellison rose and went to the door. Leaning against the post he had an uninterrupted view of the still waters of the bay. Hardly a ripple disturbed its surface. The sun was in the last act of sinking into his crimson bed, and as he went he threw a parting shaft of blood-red light across the deep. Everything stood out with an unusual distinctness. Across the straits, so full of importance to them that day, he could see the settlement of Thursday – count the houses and even distinguish people walking upon the sea-front. The peaceful beauty of the evening soothed his soul like sweetest music. He was happier than he had been for months, nay, years past. It seemed to him that he was in a new world – a world as far removed from that of the morning as is heaven from hell. He almost found it difficult to believe that he, the well-dressed, well-fed man, leaning against the doorpost, was the same being who only that morning had contemplated suicide on the pier-head over yonder, in that abject and black despair engendered of starvation. With this feeling of wonderment still upon him he turned his head in the direction of the station house – a lamp was just lighted in the sitting room, and by moving a step further to the left he could discern the loosely rolled brown hair of a woman's head. Almost unconsciously he sighed. It was a long time since any woman had manifested so much interest in him. Had he got past the desire to be worthy of it? No, he hoped not! He had told himself repeatedly since midday this was certainly his last chance, and come what might, having obtained it, he would make a struggle to win back the respect he had begun to believe he had lost forever.
The evening drew on. The night wind rose and played through the palm fronds above the hut, rubbing against the thatch with soothing sweep. Murkard was lying on his bed inside, smoking. Esther had brought her work on to the veranda, but had discarded it when the light failed, and now sat looking out across the sea. Ellison made no attempt to speak to her, and she gave no sign to show that she saw him. Some time afterward he heard Murkard put down his pipe, and come out to stand beside him.
"A beautiful night. Look at that last gleam of crimson low down upon the horizon. What are you thinking of, old man?"
Ellison did not make any reply for a minute, and then he said quietly:
"Of a night like this eight years ago! That's all."
"You ought not to have let her tell you."
"I couldn't help myself. It was done before I knew it. And then I had her guilty secret to keep as well as my own. Bah! what a fool I was. But what am I saying! How did you come to know anything of her?"
"Another of my guesses, that's all."
"Murkard, there's something devilish uncanny about you."
"Because you don't understand me, eh? No, no; don't be afraid, old man, you will never have cause to fear me. I owe you too much ever to prove myself ungrateful. Bear with my crotchets – for as surely as I stand before you now, the day will come when you will regret any harsh word you have ever spoken to me. My destiny is before me written in letters of fire – I cannot escape it, and God knows I would not if I could."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Don't ask me, or try to find out. When I saw your face for the first time that wet night on the wharf in Sydney, I knew you to be the man for whom I was sent into the world. There is a year of grace before us, let us enjoy it – then – well then I shall do my duty."
Ellison put his hand on the small man's deformed shoulder.
"Silas, I don't grasp what you're driving at!"
"Then,