“Don't believe a word of it,” cried Darner, energetically. “A man with any 'go' in him can do fifty thousand times better at home. You go some thousand miles away—for what? to crush quartz, or hammer limestone, or pump water, or carry mud in baskets, at a dollar, two dollars, five dollars, if you like, a day, in a country where Dillon, one of our fellows that's under-secretary there, writes me word he paid thirty shillings for a pot of Yarmouth bloaters. It's a rank humbug all that about the colonies,—take my word for it!”
“But what is there to be done at home, at least by one like me?”
“Scores of things. Go on to the Exchange,—go in for a rise, go in for a fall. Take Peruvian Twelves—they 're splendid—or Montezuman mining script. I did a little in Guatemalas last week, and I expect a capital return by next settling-day. If you think all this too gambling, get named director of a company. There's the patent phosphorus blacking, will give fifty pounds for a respectable chairman; or write a novel,—that's the easiest thing in life, and pays wonderfully,—Herd and Dashen give a thousand down, and double the money for each edition; and it's a fellow's own fault if it ain't a success. Then there's patent medicine and scene-painting,—any one can paint a scene, all done with a great brush—this fashion; and you get up to fifteen, ay, twenty pounds a week. By the way, are you active?”
“Tolerably so. Why do you ask?” said Tony, smiling at the impetuous incoherence of the other's talk.
“Just hold up this newspaper—so—not so high—there. Don't move; a very little to the right.” So saying, Mr. Darner took three sofa-cushions, and placed them in a line on the floor; and then, taking off his coat and waistcoat, retired to a distant corner of the room. “Be steady, now; don't move,” cried he; and then, with a brisk run, he dashed forward, and leaped head-foremost through the extended newspaper, but with so vigorous a spring as to alight on the floor a considerable distance in advance of the cushions, so that he arose with a bump on his forehead, and his nose bleeding.
“Admirably done! splendidly done!” cried Tony, anxious to cover the disaster by a well-timed applause.
“I never got so much as a scratch before,” said Darner, as be proceeded to sponge his face. “I 've done the clock and the coach-window at the Adelphi, and they all thought it was Salter. I could have five pounds a night and a free benefit. Is it growing black around the eye? I hope it's not growing black around the eye?”
“Let me bathe it for you. By the way, have you any one here could manage to get you a little newly baked dough? That's the boxer's remedy for a bruise. If I knew where to go, I 'd fetch it myself.”
Darner looked up from his bathing proceedings, and stared at the good-natured readiness of one so willing to oblige as not to think of the ridicule that might attach to his kindness. “My servant will go for it,” said he; “just pull that bell, will you, and I 'll send him. Is not it strange how I could have done this?” continued he, still bent on explaining away his failure; “what a nose I shall have to-morrow! Eh! what's that? It's Sir Harry's bell ringing away furiously! Was there ever the like of this! The only day he should have come for the last eight months!” The bell now continued to ring violently, and Damer had nothing for it but to huddle on his coat and rush away to answer the summons.
Though not more than ten minutes absent, Tony thought the time very long; in reality be felt anxious about the poor fellow, and eager to know that his disaster had not led to disgrace.