Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

57 страница из 83

“Yes, jolly enough.” Rowton began to hum the first bar of the well-known song, “Begone, dull care;” and his rich baritone filled the room.

“Yes! faith,” he continued, “the life suits me well enough; I am a jolly rover, and I like excitement and dare-devil escapes, and all the rest of the thing. I am sorry I showed temper to you, Scrivener, but the fact is, I did not want you just now on the scene. I am particularly busy at the present moment on my own account.”

“But your time is ours,” said Scrivener. “What would Long John say, or Spider, if I told them you were giving your most precious moments to private concerns?”

“Now, listen to me, Scrivener,” said the other man; “your pals may say exactly what they please of me. I have agreed to take the lead of you all, and I do not complain of the life; it has plenty of excitement and there are heaps of plums. I do not attempt also to deny that the richest plums have fallen into my mouth, but clearly understand once for all, that I know my own value. I know that I have a head on my shoulders; I know that I have a keen eye for business; I know that I am a desperate man whose courage has never yet failed him. No one knows better than I the game I am playing, and no one more clearly realises what my lot must be in the long run. ‘A short life and a merry one’ is my motto, and before Heaven! I’ll have it; but if you think, even for a moment, that you are going, any of you, to bully me or even pretend to lead me, I’ll cut off to Australia by the very next steamer that sails.”