‘You can make a row if you like,’ the fat man said wheezingly; ‘but the governor’s orders is the governor’s orders. The governor says, “Keep that young chap till I come back again.” There’s plenty here to do it.’
‘Very well,’ said Paul, noticing half-a-dozen loungers in the canvas passage.
He went back and took his former place The savage appetite he had felt half an hour earlier had gone, and the empty nausea was back again. He had not heart enough left to care for anything. When the owner of the tent returned he brought a black bottle in his hand, and one of the liveried men came in behind him with a jug and glasses.
‘I take one between turns,’ said Herr Pauer—‘never more One is a pick-me-up. Anything more than one is wrong.’ He poured a stiff dose of rum into either glass, and looking towards Paul, water-jug in hand, said, ‘Say when.’
‘None for me,’ Paul answered. ‘I never touched the cursed stuff till Saturday. I’ll never touch it again.’
‘Nonsense!’ his companion answered, filling up the glass and pushing it towards him. ‘Your teeth are chattering. Do you think because you have been a fool in one way that you have a right to be a fool in another?’
Paul sipped and shuddered, but in a second or two—no more—a faint sense of returning warmth stole through him. He sipped again, and the faint glow grew stronger. He took a pull which half emptied the tumbler, and the spirit made him cough and brought the tears to his eyes; but he felt his numbed limbs again. Pauer had relit the stump of his cigar and taken his old place on the table.
‘It’s not any part of my usual life-business,’ he said, ‘to do what I am doing now, but I like odd things, and it is an odd thing that I should meet you here. Besides that, I have been a fool in my time, and a fellow-feeling makes us kind. I shall put you up to-night, because you’re a decent young chap, and a greenhorn. You shall have your clothes dried and brushed, and you shall be made decent to look at; and you shall get a hat, and in the morning you shall go home.’
‘You’re very kind,’ said Paul, ‘but I’m not going to take your help on false pretences. I shan’t go home.’
‘I will chance that,’ said Herr Pauer. ‘Finish your drink and put that coat on. You’re shivering again.’