She looked at me as if she thought I was mad. Then she asked me if she had offended me, and insisted on telling Mr. —— I was going, so that he might pay me for my day's work; but I would not risk the effect of any pressing invitation to stay, and groped my way in the darkness down to the road and away. Never have I felt more poor and miserable and lonely in my own eyes, as I went along, than I did that stormy, bitterly cold night. As soon as the imaginary danger was over I pictured to myself in rosy colours how things might have turned out if I had only remained. And all this I had made impossible for the sake of a miserable dream which most people would have forgotten before they were properly awake. Oh, yes, I deserved surely as much bad luck as fate could heap upon me! But now it was too late. "Too late!" I kept repeating, and then I would make plans for going away to the end of the world, as soon as I should have sufficient money to pay my way. I could not in the darkness cross the Pioneer River, which runs twelve miles from town, and as I had plenty of time I sat on the bank of the river all night, wishing an alligator might take me, indulging in romantic sentiments; but the next morning, as I was nearing Mackay, hope sat on her throne again as I passed by the one beautiful plantation after the other and saw enough work going forward on all sides to convince me that I should get plenty to do for myself, and possibly some day, perhaps, myself own one of these plantations.
CHAPTER XI.
A LOVE STORY.
I obtained work at one of the plantations for three pounds sterling per week. For this money I was expected only to work eight hours a day and five hours on Saturdays, that being the ordinary tradesman's hours of work all over Australia. But as my employer was busy and I was tired of remaining poor longer than I could help, I obtained leave to work two hours overtime every day, for which I was paid at the rate of eighteenpence an hour. When I arrived in Mackay I had gone into a Chinaman's boarding-house, as being the most suitable place for my means and condition, but although a similar place had suited me well enough in the gold-diggings, the class of men who stayed here and the accommodation I received did not now suit me at all. I seemed to shrink into myself and gradually got into a morbid and unhealthy state of mind. I was as good, at least I thought myself as good, as most of the clerks or well-dressed young fellows I saw knocking about the town, doing very little work; but that they were of a different opinion was evident from the scathing contempt one or two of them managed once or twice to put into their manner towards me the first week I was in town when I by accident had addressed them. Do clothes make the man? thought I; was it necessary for me to conform to their habits, and to imitate them, to secure respect or even civility? I would not do it. What would be gained? All was vanity. Another little incident which had not been without its influence upon me, I mention to show that such unconsidered trifles make the sum total of ordinary life, was this: the day I arrived in town, but when I was yet about half a mile from it, I had met four young ladies, who I suppose were out for a walk. They were evidently dressed in their best clothes and looked both nice and pretty, and as youth always recognizes a sort of relation in youth—or, if you prefer it, young men always take an interest in young women, and vice versâ—I was looking closely at them and they at me as we neared each other on the road. They took no trouble in concealing their verdict of me. I will not say they were so ill-bred as to make grimaces at me, but they might just as soon have gathered their skirts about them and held their noses. I saw that they considered me an undesirable party. I was just then in rather high spirits, which could not be damped all in a moment, so as I met and passed them I took my stick up and held it in military fashion close to my shoulder as I marched by. I could hear them giggling behind me, but I did not look round, and lovelorn as I was—because you must remember my adventure of the day before—it had a depressing effect upon me, which grew as time went. So, after staying for a week in the Chinaman's boarding-house, with the first money I got I bought a tent and pitched it right away in a lonely spot, and there I lived by myself, like a regular hermit. I thought of Thorkill who was dead and of his lonely grave, that dream for which I could not account, and I thought, too, of my own home from which I had heard nothing now for years, and I brooded over my own friendless condition. Then I thought of the girl on the plantation I had left behind me, but it never entered my head for a moment to go and visit her. Far from it. I would travel to the end of the world to put it out of my power rather than do that, or for two pins I would then have put an end to myself! It seems to me as I write, that, this being simply true, it should not be without a salutary warning to other young men not to allow themselves to drift into the same state of temperament, because it is dangerous and may spoil a life which otherwise might become useful; nor is there any merit in such misanthropy, as the subsequent pages will show, and but one little straw one way or the other will have its effect during the remainder of one's life.
One thing which it is difficult to write about, as it seems to have no logic or sense in it, but which, nevertheless, was of great importance to me, was this: I worked like a tiger, not because I was fond of work nor to get away from my morbid feelings, because I did not struggle against them, nor because I was fond of money, as I had very little use for any, as I thought, and as my wages were the same whether I worked like an average man or did more, but I worked because in my morbid brain I liked to fancy that the girl on the plantation was in great distress, and that her life and liberty depended upon my doing certain work in a certain time. When I got a piece of work to do I would think to myself in this way: here is a week's work for any man, but unless I can do it in four days, then—all sorts of misery will happen. Therefore I really worked as if my life depended on it, and I would be perfectly intolerant of any obstruction to my progress. My "boss" took in the situation very soon, because he let me stand by myself and dared scarcely speak to me for fear of putting me out.
This state of affairs had lasted about three months, and during that time I can almost count on my fingers the words I had said; I do not think I had spoken to any one one unnecessary word. It cost me only five or six shillings a week to live. I had bought merely the most necessary clothes, and all the rest of my money and cheques I had received were in my possession, lying in a pickle-bottle in the tent.
One afternoon as I came from my work I saw in front of me in the street the girl from the plantation. I ran after her. "Sophy, Sophy, is that you?" Happy meeting! She had been in town for a month and was now a dressmaker; but let it be enough to say that I went at once to the tent and got out the money and bought the best clothes I could get in town, that I went to stay at an hotel, and that, as time went on, I kept two horses in a paddock, ordered a side-saddle, and for sixteen months after used to boast to myself that no one among the tradesmen in Mackay had a prettier sweetheart, was a better dancer, kept such good horses, or earned so much money as myself!
I reckon this time as being among my most pleasant recollections. People did not seem to me so egotistic or the world so black as it had appeared while I lived in the tent; on the contrary, I was often invited among very nice people to their parties and family gatherings, and I was a constant attendant at both Oddfellows' and Caledonian balls, and, in short, anything that was going on. I was intending some day in the near future to marry and settle down, and for that reason had bought an allotment for twenty-five pounds, and I meant to build a house on it. I had only one fault to find with the lady who honoured me with her approbation. It was this: she was fearfully jealous and excitable, and would at such times be in a perfect rage if I had done anything which she thought not becoming; but as I took it as a proof of the value in which she held me, I rather liked it, and even sometimes went so far as to excite her suspicion on purpose just to get up a "scene." This happened again one day when I had been sixteen months in Mackay. The occasion was that I had, as it was Sunday, been out for a ride with another young lady—I had things so handy, the two horses, one with side-saddle and all, and the temptation to a little extra flirtation was always great—but when that evening, in a most dutiful mood, I went to see my "only love," she, I remember, was very angry indeed with me. She was sitting sewing in her room, and I was sitting also at the table in a careless position, with my head on my hand and my elbow on the table, smiling at her and enjoying matters very much, although, as I have written above, she was very angry, and even crying. She rated me terribly, too, for my wickedness, and I was defending myself mildly. "Dear," I said, "I only took her out to-day as a mark of the respect in which I hold her."
"I'll mark you!" she cried, and she struck me in the mouth with terrible violence. The blow not only knocked me off the chair, but sent one of my front teeth spinning round the room, and to this day I am marked by the absence of that tooth. I got up; she stood gasping with excitement, looking at me. I cannot give the reader any idea how handsome she was, or how fond I was of her. Still, this would never do. I took the lamp from the table and began looking for my tooth on the floor. I never spoke, neither did she say anything. I can well remember. When I had found the tooth I took my hat up and went away. This would never do, thought I, I must be off somewhere by the next steamer, never to return; because I knew very well that if I stayed in Mackay I should just go and make love to her again. I therefore decided I would be off, never mind where I went; and in that mood I arrived at my hotel. On the verandah stood one of the boarders who was the captain of a labour schooner. For the information of my readers who may not know what that means I will state that the plantations round Mackay and elsewhere in Queensland employ a great many South Sea Islanders, and that these men are brought to Queensland under a certain system. It is this way: a number of planters unite in sending a ship out among the South Sea Islands to engage all the Kanakas the ship can hold, and who are willing to come. The ship so engaged is under Government orders, and the Government sends an agent with the ship, whose duty is to watch that no coercion is employed in order to get "the boys" to engage, and that they understand their agreements with the planter. These agreements are all uniform. The Kanakas engage for three years' service, for which the planter gives them their food and six pounds per year; he also defrays the cost of bringing them to Queensland, and when their time is out he sends them at his own cost back to the island whence they came. As I now came up on the verandah the captain spoke to me and invited me in to have a drink with him. He had been staying in the hotel for about a month and I knew him very well, so we went into the bar and began to talk about his affairs. He intended to start for the South Seas the following night, if all went well; the only thing that upset him just then was that his cook had deserted the ship and was not to be found. He did not care except for this reason—that he could not afford to keep the ship waiting, and on the other hand he did not know where to get another, as he could not do without a good cook. "Faith, then," said I, "I am a good cook, as cooks go in this part of the world, and, what is more to the purpose, not only do I intend to leave Mackay to-morrow if I can, but I have a great longing to see the South Sea Islands, and therefore I am your man, if you like."