“Just eleven o’clock,” said the younger man, looking at his watch. “This house closes punctual. You shall have one nip, mister, and then I chuck you out.”
He poured the contents of the bottle into the solitary mug, and added water from a jug with a broken lip. Then the two rogues drank alternately.
“What do you intend to do when you’ve made your pile, Garstang?”
“Me? I’m goin’ back to London and set up in a nice little public, missis, barmaid, and boots, complete, and live a quiet, virtuous life. That’s me. I should prefer somewheres down Woolwich way—I’m very fond of the military.”
“I’m goin’ to travel,” said William. “I’m anxious for to see things and improve me mind. First, I’ll go to America—I’m awful soft on the Yanks, and can’t help thinkin’ that ’Frisco’s the place for a chap with talent. Then I’ll work East and see New York, and by-and-by I’ll go over to Europe an’ call on the principal Crown Heads—not the little ’uns, you understand, like Portugal and Belgium, or fry of that sort: they ain’t no class—an’ then I’ll marry a real fine girl, a reg’lar top-notcher with whips of dollars, an’ go and live at Monte Carlo. How’s that for a programme, eh?”
“Nice and complete. But I rayther expect the Crown ’Eads’d be one too many for you. The Czar o’ Rooshia, f’r instance, I fancy he’d exile you to Siberia.”
“But that’d be agin international law an’ all rule an’ precedent—I’d tell ’im I was a British subject born in Australia, and wrap a Union Jack around me stummick, an’ dare ’im to come on. How’d that be for high?”
“You’d be ’igh enough. You’d be ’anded over to th’ British authorities—they’d see you went ’igh enough. The experience of men of our perfession is, lie very low, live very quiet, don’t attract no attention whatever—when you’ve succeeded in makin’ your pile. That’s why I say a public: you’ve a few select pals, the best of liquor, and just as much excitement as a ordinary man needs. I say that, upon retirement, for men of our perfession a public’s the thing.”
“How’d a theayter do?”
“Too noisy an’ unrestful, William. An’ then think of all the wimmen—they’d bother a man silly.”