Part 23 (1/2)
”Yes, sir, and that is bad, I confess, but, what is worse, I was, until I took to poaching, an honest man without a shred of character.”
”How so?”
”I was discharged--under a cloud that was never dispelled.”
”To be sure, you don't look like an ordinary poacher.”
”That is because I am an extraordinary one.”
”You mean?”
”That I poach that I may live to--poach again, sir. I am, at once, a necessitous poacher, and a poacher by necessity.”
”And what by choice?”
”A gentleman, sir, with plenty of money and no ambitions.”
”Why deny ambition?”
”Because I would live a quiet life, and who ever heard of an ambitious man ever being quiet, much less happy and contented?”
”Hum!” said Barnabas, ”and what were you by profession?”
”My calling, sir, was to work for, think for, and shoulder the blame for others--generally fools, sir. I was a confidential servant, a valet, sir. And I have worked, thought, and taken the blame for others so very successfully, that I must needs take to poaching that I may live.”
”But--other men may require valets!”
”True, sir, and there are plenty of valets to be had--of a sort; but the most accomplished one in the world, if without a character, had better go and hang himself out of the way, and have done with it.
And indeed, I have seriously contemplated so doing.”
”You rate yourself very highly.”
”And I go in rags! Though a professed thief may do well in the world, though the blackest rascal, the slyest rogue, may thrive and prosper, the greatest of valets being without a character, may go in rags and starve--and very probably will.”
”Hum!” said Barnabas.
”Now, to starve, sir, is unpleasant; thus I, having a foolish, though very natural, dread of it, poach rabbits that I may exist. I possess also an inborn horror of rags and dirt, therefore I--exchanged this coat and breeches from a farmhouse, the folk being all away in the fields, and though they are awkward, badly-made garments, still beggars--and--”
”Thieves!” added Barnabas.
”And thieves, sir, cannot always be choosers, can they?”
”Then you admit you are a thief?”
Here the fugitive glanced at Barnabas with a wry smile.
”Sir, I fear I must. Exchange is no robbery they say; but my rags were so very ragged, and these garments are at least wearable.”
”You have also been a--great valet, I understand?”