Tiapa rose and went slowly towards the gates. "Scraps" sneered, and drank another glass.
"Light up there!" ordered the captain.
"The Meteor" went into the doss-house and lit a lamp, from which a long stream of light fell across the yard, and the captain, with the assistance of the stranger, led the schoolmaster into the doss-house. His head hung loose on his breast, and his feet dragged along the ground; his arms hung in the air as if they were broken. With Tiapa's help they huddled him on to one of the bunks, where he stretched out his limbs, uttering suppressed groans, whilst shudders ran through his body.
"We worked together on the same newspaper; he's been very unlucky. I told him, 'Stay at my house if you like; you won't disturb me'; but he begged and implored me to take him home, got quite excited about it. I feared that worrying would do him more harm, so I have brought him—home; for this is where he meant, isn't it?"
"Perhaps you think he's got some other home?" asked Kouvalda in a coarse voice, watching his friend closely all the time. "Go, Tiapa, and fetch some cold water."
"Well now," said the little man, fidgeting about shyly, "I suppose I can't be of any further use to him."
"Who? You?"
The captain scanned him contemptuously.
The little man was dressed in a well-worn coat, carefully buttoned to the chin. His trousers were frayed out at the bottom. His hat was discoloured with age, and was as crooked and wrinkled as was his thin, starved face.
"No, you can't be of any further use. There are many like you here," said the captain, turning away from the little man.