“Oh, no, gaptain, I—”
“It was a white dog, wasn’t it, with his
tail docked, and one ear gone, and—”
“Dot’s him, dot’s him!—der
fery dog. Wy, py Chorge, dot dog he would eat
baint yoost de same like—”
“Well, never mind that, now—’vast
heaving—I never saw such a man. You
start him on that dog and he’ll dispute a year.
Blamed if I haven’t seen him keep it up a level
two hours and a half.”
“Why captain!” said Barrow. “I
guess that must be hearsay.”
“No, sir, no hearsay about it—he
disputed with me.”
“I don’t see how you stood it.”
“Oh, you’ve got to—if you run
with Andy. But it’s the only fault he’s
got.”
“Ain’t you afraid of acquiring it?”
“Oh, no,” said the captain, tranquilly,
“no danger of that, I reckon.”
The artists presently took their leave. Then
Barrow put his hands on Tracy’s shoulders and
said:
“Look me in the eye, my boy. Steady, steady.
There—it’s just as I thought—hoped,
anyway; you’re all right, thank goodness.
Nothing the matter with your mind. But don’t
do that again—even for fun. It isn’t
wise. They wouldn’t have believed you if
you’d been an earl’s son. Why, they
couldn’t—don’t you know that?
What ever possessed you to take such a freak?
But never mind about that; let’s not talk of
it. It was a mistake; you see that yourself.”
“Yes—it was a mistake.”
“Well, just drop it out of your, mind; it’s
no harm; we all make them. Pull your courage
together, and don’t brood, and don’t give
up. I’m at your back, and we’ll
pull through, don’t you be afraid.”
When he was gone, Barrow walked the floor a good while,
uneasy in his mind. He said to himself, “I’m
troubled about him. He never would have made
a break like that if he hadn’t been a little
off his balance. But I know what being out of
work and no prospect ahead can do for a man.
First it knocks the pluck out of him and drags his
pride in the dirt; worry does the rest, and his mind
gets shaky. I must talk to these people.
No—if there’s any humanity in them—and
there is, at bottom— they’ll be easier
on him if they think his troubles have disturbed his
reason. But I’ve got to find him some work;
work’s the only medicine for his disease.
Poor devil! away off here, and not a friend.”
The moment Tracy was alone his spirits vanished away,
and all the misery of his situation was manifest to
him. To be moneyless and an object of the chairmaker’s
charity—this was bad enough, but his folly
in proclaiming himself an earl’s son to that
scoffing and unbelieving crew, and, on top of that,
the humiliating result—the recollection
of these things was a sharper torture still.
He made up his mind that he would never play earl’s
son again before a doubtful audience.
