“So you have made up your quarrels,” said the cook.
“I’m not sure that we have,” replied Martin, with a smile. “But he’s very friendly. I wonder why?”
“He wishes he were you, I daresay, instead of being bound to Mr. Slocum for seven years. To Mr. Slocum, says I, though ’tis really to Mr. Greatorex. Ah! I wish the old master had never left the City. What things are coming to I don’t know. Mr. Slocum’s cursing and cuffing those apprentices from morning till night, and you’re lucky to be out of it.”
“What’s the matter with him?”
“Goodness alone knows! It’s my belief he has something on his mind, but—— There he is, bawling for me. Don’t let him see you. Coming, sir, coming!”
Martin hurried away, feeling more than ever glad that he was no longer in Mr. Slocum’s service, and wondering whether his old employer’s ill temper was connected in any way with his mysterious doings on the riverside.
Another round, in a different part of the city, occupied part of the afternoon, and Martin had to clean out the shop before he left for home. Again it had been a very hot day, and he was more tired than he had ever been before; so tired, indeed, that he was not inclined to talk about his new job.
“ ’Tis a come-down, to be sure, for a master mariner’s son,” said Dick Gollop; “but what you can’t help, make the best of.”
“Now don’t you go for to dishearten the lad, with your come-downs,” said Susan. “ ’Tis honest and useful, and we shan’t have to buy so much bread.”
Weary though he was, Martin that night found it impossible to sleep. His room was small and felt like an oven, though he had opened the window and the door, and thrown off all the bedclothes.