“It is true, Scrivener,” he said, “it is too late to withdraw now, and I did wrong to lose my temper over one like you.”
There was an indescribable scorn in his words.
“Yes,” he continued, “I am in too deep; there is nothing for it but to stay in.”
“And the life is a jolly one, my fighting cock,” said Scrivener.
“Yes, jolly enough.” Rowton began to hum the first bar of the well-known song, “Begone, dull care;” and his rich baritone filled the room.
“Yes! faith,” he continued, “the life suits me well enough; I am a jolly rover, and I like excitement and dare-devil escapes, and all the rest of the thing. I am sorry I showed temper to you, Scrivener, but the fact is, I did not want you just now on the scene. I am particularly busy at the present moment on my own account.”
“But your time is ours,” said Scrivener. “What would Long John say, or Spider, if I told them you were giving your most precious moments to private concerns?”
“Now, listen to me, Scrivener,” said the other man; “your pals may say exactly what they please of me. I have agreed to take the lead of you all, and I do not complain of the life; it has plenty of excitement and there are heaps of plums. I do not attempt also to deny that the richest plums have fallen into my mouth, but clearly understand once for all, that I know my own value. I know that I have a head on my shoulders; I know that I have a keen eye for business; I know that I am a desperate man whose courage has never yet failed him. No one knows better than I the game I am playing, and no one more clearly realises what my lot must be in the long run. ‘A short life and a merry one’ is my motto, and before Heaven! I’ll have it; but if you think, even for a moment, that you are going, any of you, to bully me or even pretend to lead me, I’ll cut off to Australia by the very next steamer that sails.”
“Yes, and if you do,” said Scrivener, “you’ll be met on board and brought back; you know where. I do not think,” he continued, “that I need add any more.”