Rudyard Kipling : The Complete Novels and Stories. Редьярд Джозеф Киплинг

only for a minute or so. I saved him. Set that to my credit, some one.’

      ‘Let me go,’ said Bess, her face darkening. ‘Let me go.’

      ‘All in good time. Did you ever attend Sunday school?’

      ‘Never. Let me go, I tell you; you’re making fun of me.’

      ‘Indeed, I’m not. I’m making fun of myself…. Thus. “He saved others, himself he cannot save.” It isn’t exactly a school-board text.’ He released her wrist, but since he was between her and the door, she could not escape. ‘What an enormous amount of mischief one little woman can do!’

      ‘I’m sorry; I’m awful sorry about the picture.’

      ‘I’m not. I’m grateful to you for spoiling it…. What were we talking about before you mentioned the thing?’

      ‘About getting away—and money. Me and you going away.’

      ‘Of course. We will get away—that is to say, I will.’

      ‘And me?’

      ‘You shall have fifty whole pounds for spoiling a picture.’

      ‘Then you won’t——?’

      ‘I’m afraid not, dear. Think of fifty pounds for pretty things all to yourself.’

      ‘You said you couldn’t do anything without me.’

      ‘That was true a little while ago. I’m better now, thank you. Get me my hat.’

      ‘S’pose I don’t?’

      ‘Beeton will, and you’ll lose fifty pounds. That’s all. Get it.’

      Bessie cursed under her breath. She had pitied the man sincerely, had kissed him with almost equal sincerity, for he was not unhandsome; it pleased her to be in a way and for a time his protector, and above all there were four thousand pounds to be handled by some one. Now through a slip of the tongue and a little feminine desire to give a little, not too much, pain she had lost the money, the blessed idleness and the pretty things, the companionship, and the chance of looking outwardly as respectable as a real lady.

      ‘Now fill me a pipe. Tobacco doesn’t taste, but it doesn’t matter, and I’ll think things out. What’s the day of the week, Bess?’

      ‘Tuesday.’

      ‘Then Thursday’s mail-day. What a fool—what a blind fool I have been! Twenty-two pounds covers my passage home again. Allow ten for additional expenses. We must put up at Madam Binat’s for old time’s sake. Thirty-two pounds altogether. Add a hundred for the cost of the last trip—Gad, won’t Torp stare to see me!—a hundred and thirty-two leaves seventy-eight for baksheesh—I shall need it—and to play with. What are you crying for, Bess? It wasn’t your fault, child; it was mine altogether. Oh, you funny little opossum, mop your eyes and take me out! I want the pass-book and the check-book. Stop a minute. Four thousand pounds at four per cent—that’s safe interest—means a hundred and sixty pounds a year; one hundred and twenty pounds a hear—also safe—is two eighty, and two hundred and eighty pounds added to three hundred a year means gilded luxury for a single woman. Bess, we’ll go to the bank.’

      Richer by two hundred and ten pounds stored in his money-belt, Dick caused Bessie, now thoroughly bewildered, to hurry from the bank to the P. and O. offices, where he explained things tersely.

      ‘Port Said, single first; cabin as close to the baggage-hatch as possible. What ship’s going?’

      ‘The Colgong,’ said the clerk.

      ‘She’s a wet little hooker. Is it Tilbury and a tender, or Galleons and the docks?’

      ‘Galleons. Twelve-forty, Thursday.’

      ‘Thanks. Change, please. I can’t see very well—will you count it into my hand?’

      ‘If they all took their passages like that instead of talking about their trunks, life would be worth something,’ said the clerk to his neighbour, who was trying to explain to a harassed mother of many that condensed milk is just as good for babes at sea as daily dairy. Being nineteen and unmarried, he spoke with conviction.

      ‘We are now,’ quoth Dick, as they returned to the studio, patting the place where his money-belt covered ticket and money, ‘beyond the reach of man, or devil, or woman—which is much more important. I’ve had three little affairs to carry through before Thursday, but I needn’t ask you to help, Bess. Come here on Thursday morning at nine. We’ll breakfast, and you shall take me down to Galleons Station.’

      ‘What are you going to do?’

      ‘Going away, of course. What should I stay for?’

      ‘But you can’t look after yourself?’

      ‘I can do anything. I didn’t realise it before, but I can. I’ve done a great deal already. Resolution shall be treated to one kiss if Bessie doesn’t object.’ Strangely enough, Bessie objected and Dick laughed. ‘I suppose you’re right. Well, come at nine the day after to-morrow and you’ll get your money.’

      ‘Shall I sure?’

      ‘I don’t bilk, and you won’t know whether I do or not unless you come. Oh, but it’s long and long to wait! Good-bye, Bessie,—send Beeton here as you go out.’

      The housekeeper came.

      ‘What are all the fittings of my rooms worth?’ said Dick, imperiously.

      ‘’Tisn’t for me to say, sir. Some things is very pretty and some is wore out dreadful.’

      ‘I’m insured for two hundred and seventy.’

      ‘Insurance policies is no criterion, though I don’t say——’

      ‘Oh, damn your longwindedness! You’ve made your pickings out of me and the other tenants. Why, you talked of retiring and buying a public-house the other day. Give a straight answer to a straight question.’

      ‘Fifty,’ said Mr. Beeton, without a moment’s hesitation.

      ‘Double it; or I’ll break up half my sticks and burn the rest.’

      He felt his way to a bookstand that supported a pile of sketch-books, and wrenched out one of the mahogany pillars.

      ‘That’s sinful, sir,’ said the housekeeper, alarmed.

      ‘It’s my own. One hundred or——’

      ‘One hundred it is. It’ll cost me three and six to get that there pilaster mended.’

      ‘I thought so. What an out and out swindler you must have been to spring that price at once!’

      ‘I hope I’ve done nothing to dissatisfy any of the tenants, least of all you, sir.’

      ‘Never mind that. Get me the money to-morrow, and see that all my clothes are packed in the little brown bullock-trunk. I’m going.’

      ‘But the quarter’s notice?’

      ‘I’ll pay forfeit. Look after the packing and leave me alone.’

      Mr. Beeton discussed this new departure with his wife, who decided that Bessie was at the bottom of it all. Her husband took a more charitable view.

      ‘It’s very sudden—but then he was always sudden in his ways. Listen to him now!’

      There was a sound of chanting from Dick’s room.

      ‘We’ll never come back any more, boys,

      We’ll never come back no more;

      We’ll go to the deuce on any excuse,

      And never come back no more!

      Oh say we’re afloat