“I’ve been away from you fer a few year owin’ to—owin’ to circs not altogether under my control” (the room laughed uproariously), “but I’m back in the midst of you once more, and I can tell you one thing, and that ain’t two, I’m jolly glad of it! I’ve had quite enough penal to last me my time. I’m full up of it! I’ve reached me limit! It’s no catch, I tell you!” (Murmurs of sympathy.) “If there’s any one ’ere that’s acquired a taste for it, they’re welcome to my share. I don’t know that I have much more to say. I ’aven’t had much practice at public speaking of late. Once you begin to ’old forth in there” (here he gave a vague jerk of the head), “why, they let you know it. Anyway, it’s no use ’arping on the past, and in regard to the promise of a ’elping ’and to which you, Mr. Chairman, have so kindly referred, and to me being a hero, there’s only one thing I want to say, and that is this: I shall keep you to it!”
The club-room seemed to think the last sentence had an ungracious sound, and there would have been an inclination to hedge only that the white-sleeved potman arrived at that moment with a dictatorial shout of “Now you cheps! Time!” and the party had to break up. Out in the street, James’s arm was again in request, and his hand was shaken so often with so many assurances of admiration and enthusiastic comradeship, that he went off towards Hammerton Street quite dazed and not sure whether he had won a battle, or saved lives from drowning. The men cheered him as he left and began to chant an appropriate song, but a policeman came up, and the crowd, not wishful for argument with the force, said respectfully, “It’s all right, Mr. Langley, sir; we’re just on the move,” and disappeared.
Womenfolk came round to Hammerton Street the next day asking to be permitted to see him, and James’s wife would have taken another day off, but James said there had been quite enough gadding about for her already, and insisted she should go to work. He sunned himself at the front door with a fine pretence of not knowing that he was being observed, the while women on the opposite side of the pavement held up their babies to see him and whispered admiring comments.
“You’d never think it to look at him, would you, now?”
“I recollect his case as well as anything. It was before I was married to my present ’usband, but I can recollect it all just as though it was only yesterday. I remember so well saying to my young sister—I was on speaking terms with her just then—I remember saying, ‘Ah, well!’ I said. Just like that!”
“She’s kept herself to herself, mind you, all the time he’s been away. I will say that for her!”
“Wonder what he’ll be up to now. He’s turning something over in his mind, I lay!”
The hero could not help being pleased with all this attention, and after he had taken his dinner at a coffee-shop, where the waitress, informed of his distinguished reputation, stood back and watched him over an illustrated paper, he put on a collar and again lounged at the doorway. The crowd was not so great now, and consisted for the greater part of children who played tip-cat, and gave no notice to him excepting when his presence interfered with the game. Disappointed with his audience, James went indoors and, taking off his collar, indulged in the unaccustomed luxury of an afternoon nap. When his wife returned from work it struck him that she was slightly more argumentative in manner than she had been on the first day; in the course of debate she threw out a most disconcerting hint in regard to a job of work, news of which had come to her ears.
“Look ’ere, my gel!” said James definitely. “You may as well understand me fust as last. A man with so many friends as I’ve got won’t want to work for many a long day yet.”
Nevertheless the idea gave him perturbation and he went round to the Green Man to meet the friends referred to and receive from them reinforcement of his hopes and views. There were only two or three in sight, and these were outside the house; they hailed him with a casual cry of, “’Ullo, James! Your turn to stand drinks, ain’t it?” and having brought some money out, the savings of his compulsory retreat, he found himself compelled to entertain them.