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    Between his duties at the office of the Haynton Bay Improvement Company and his earnest desire to master the mysteries of the iron trade, Philip Hayn found very little time for dropping into moody reflections. Like many another young man in business, he became convinced that a great deal of telling work might be done outside of business-hours: so he spent many evenings and occasional days in endeavoring to forward the interests of his employer, and of the Improvement Company, in which Mr. Tramlay was as largely interested as himself.

    “The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.

    "That's a pity."

    The fool! — the churl!

    “It’s only that they are white; what is there in them?” he said. “Put mine on oats, and they will be just as sleek. They ought to be in a plough and with a whip, too. . . . ”

    During this period she was less considerate; she had an idea--a rather vague one, but it was agreeable to her sense of injury--that now she was absolved from penance, and might do what she chose.

    "You certainly look like a frowzy tramp, Jack," she told her brother judiciously, "and you need sleep," she informed Darrow.

    At Nero’s obsequies it was but with difficulty that the train achieved complete cremation. The Roman aristocracy looked upon partial cineration as a great disgrace, which adhered to the respective family a long time. Yet this infamy was often meted out to the poor and unfortunate, as we shall see later on.

    This was the last of the breeze. It veered quickly, changed to a black south-eastern and blew itself out, giving the ship a famous shove to the northward into the joyous sunshine of the trade. Rapid and white she ran homewards in a straight path, under a blue sky and upon the plain of a blue sea. She carried Singleton’s completed wisdom, Donkin’s delicate susceptibilities, and the conceited folly of us all. The hours of ineffective turmoil were forgotten; the fear and anguish of these dark moments were never mentioned in the glowing peace of fine days. Yet from that time our life seemed to start afresh as though we had died and been resuscitated. All the first part of the voyage, the Indian Ocean on the other side of the Cape, all that was lost in a haze, like an ineradicable suspicion of some previous existence. It had ended — then there were blank hours; a livid blur — and again we lived! Singleton was possessed of sinister truth; Mr. Creighton of a damaged leg; the cook of fame — and shamefully abused the opportunities of his distinction. Donkin had an added grievance. He went about repeating with insistence:— ‘’E said ’e would brain me — did you hear? They hare goin’ to murder hus now for the least little thing.’ We began at last to think it was rather awful. And we were conceited! We boasted our pluck, of our capacity foe work, of our energy. We remembered honourable episodes: our devotion, our indomitable perseverance — and were proud of them as though they had been the outcome of our unaided impulses. We remembered our danger, our toil — and conveniently forgot our horrible scare. We decried our officer — who had done nothing — and listened to the fascinating Donkin, His care for our rights, his disinterested concern for our dignity, were not discouraged by the invariable contumely of our words, by the disdain of our looks. Our contempt for him was unbounded — and we could unbounded — and we could not but listen with interest to that consummate artist. He told us we were good men — a ‘bloomin’ condemned lot of good men.’ ‘ Who thanked us? Who took any notice of our wrongs? Didn’t we lead a ‘dorg’s loife for two poun’ten a month?’ Did we think that miserable pay enough to compensate us for the risk to our lives and for the loss of our clothes? ‘We’ve lost hevery rag!’ he cried. He made us forget that he, at any rate, had lost nothing of his own. The younger men listened, thinking — this ’ere Donkin’s a long-headed chap, though no kind of man, anyhow. The Scandinavians were frightened at his audacities; Wamibo did not understand; and the older seamen thoughtfully nodded their heads making the thin gold earrings glitter in the fleshy lobes of hairy ears. Severe, sun-burnt faces were propped meditatively on tattooed forearms. Veined, brown fists held in their grip the dirty white clay of smoldering pipes. They listened, impenetrable, broad-backed, with bent shoulders, and in grim silence. He talked with ardour, despised and irrefutable. His picturesque and filthy loquacity flowed like a troubled stream from a poisoned source. His beady little eyes danced, glancing right and left, ever on the watch for the approach of an officer. Sometimes Mr. Baker going forward to take a look at the head sheets would roll with his uncouth gait through the sudden stillness of the men; or Mr. Creighton limped along, smooth-faced, youthful, and more stern than ever piercing our short silence with a keen glance of his clear eyes. Behind his back Donkin would begin again darting stealthy, sidelong looks. — ‘‘Ere’s one of’em. Some of yer’as made ’im fast that day. Much thanks yer got for hit. Ain’t ’ee a-drivin’ yer wusse’n hever? . . . Let ’im slip hover-board . . . Vy not? It would ’ave been less trouble. Vy not?’ He advanced confidentially, backed away with great effect; he whispered, he screamed, waved his miserable arms no thicker than pipe-stems — stretched his lean neck — spluttered — squinted. In the pauses of his impassioned orations the wine sighed quietly aloft, the calm sea unheeded murmured in a warning whisper along the ship’s side. We abominated the creature and could not deny the luminous truth of his contentions. It was all so obvious. We were indubitably good men; our deserts were great and our pay small. Through our exertions we had saved the ship and the skipper would get the credit of it. What had he done? we wanted to know. Donkin asked:— ‘What ’ee could do without hus?’ and we could not answer. We were oppressed by the injustice of the world, surprised to perceive how long we had lived under its burden without realising our unfortunate state, annoyed by the uneasy suspicion of our undiscerning stupidity. Donkin assured us it was all our ‘good ’eartedness,’ but we would not be consoled by such shallow sophistry. We were men enough to courageously admit to ourselves our intellectual shortcomings; though from that time we refrained from kicking him, tweaking his nose or from accidentally knocking him about, which last, after we had weathered the Cape, had been rather a popular amusement. Davies ceased to talk at him provokingly about black eyes and flattened noses. Charley, much subdued since the gale, sis not jeer at him. Knowles deferentially and with a crafty air propounded questions such as:— ‘Could we all have the same grub as the mates? Could we all stop ashore till we got it? What would be the next thing to try for if we got that?’ He answered readily with contemptuous certitude; he strutted with assurance in clothes that were much too big for him as though he had tried to disguise himself. These were Jimmy’s clothes most — though he would accept anything from anybody; but nobody, except Jimmy, had anything to spare. His devotion to Jimmy was unbounded. He was for ever dodging in the little cabin, ministering to Jimmy’s wants, humoring his whims, submitting to his exacting peevishness, often laughing with him. Nothing could keep him away from the pious work of visiting the sick, especially when there was some heavy hauling to be done on deck. Mr. Baker had on two occasions jerked him out of there by the scruff of the neck to our inexpressible scandal. Was a sick chap to be left without attendance? Were we to be ill-used for attending a shipmate? — ‘What?’ growled Mr.

    The sandwiches and fries arrived, and we dug in.

    We shoved the lamps up on the sherpoles — two on each side. Then he came across to me.

    "And he stole the ring?"

    “Not if you were firm with him,” said Eleanor “I believe in being firm.”


    Chapter 7 Last Years

    "Cavor," I shouted, "they want us to get up!"

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