But I couldn’t close my eyes for thinking of poor Esau. Perhaps he was dead; perhaps even then he was shut up somewhere by a gang of scoundrels who might be meaning to keep him till they could secure a ransom.
Ah, what a host of thoughts of that kind came rushing through my weary head, which now began to ache terribly.
In due time the landlady came in, bringing us our meal; and, signing me to take my place, Gunson seated himself and began to eat, not like a man who partakes of food for the pleasure of the meal, but as if it was a necessity to supply himself with the support required for doing a great deal of work. And I suppose it was in something like that spirit that, after he had first requested me to eat, and then ordered me sharply, I managed to force a little down.
It was getting quite dark, when Gunson said suddenly—
“Now is there anything else we could do—anything we have not thought of?”
“The hospital,” I said suddenly, as the idea came like a flash of light.
“I did not say anything to you, my lad,” replied Gunson, “but that was the first place I went to, thinking he might have been knocked down. No: try again.”
But no, I could think of nothing else, and my despondency was rapidly increasing, when all at once Gunson jumped up and said sharply—
“It’s too bad to destroy your belief, my lad, but I feel sure that mate of yours is playing you a dirty trick. He is a miserable coward, and hiding away. The lad has turned tail and—I’m a fool.”
For at that moment, panting and exhausted with running, Esau rushed into the room, with nothing on but his shirt and trousers, and the former torn halfway across his back.