“Who’s telling a lie?” he cried aloud. “Tell you I wasn’t going to smoke it myself.”
“Then why did you go for it?”
“Never you mind,” he said sulkily, “Pipe’s gone—half-dollar pipe in a case—nobody won’t smoke it now, p’r’aps. Wish I hadn’t come.”
“So do I now,” I said hotly. “You did buy it to learn to smoke, and we’ve lost our passage through you.”
Esau was silent for a few moments, and then he came towards me and whispered—
“Don’t say that, sir. I saw what a shabby old clay pipe Mr Gunson had got, and I thought a good noo clean briar-root one would be a nice present for him, and I ran off to get it, and bought a big strong one as wouldn’t break. And then, as I was out, I thought I’d look in at some of the stores, and see if there wasn’t something that would do for you.”
“And you went off to buy me a pipe, my lad?” said Gunson, who had heard every word.
“Didn’t know you was listening,” said Esau, awkwardly.
“I could not help hearing. You were excited and spoke louder than you thought. Thank you, my lad, though I haven’t got the pipe. Well, how did you get on then?”
“That’s what I hardly know, sir. I s’pose those chaps we had the tussle with had seen me, and I was going stoopidly along after I’d bought your pipe—and it was such a good one—staring in at the windows thinking of what I could buy for him, for there don’t seem to be anything you can buy for a boy or a young fellow but a knife, and he’d got two already, when in one of the narrow streets, Shove! bang!”