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fine wire sound…recording instrument。
'Suppose he were to snap！' he thought。 Impelled to justify this
fancy； he blurted out： 〃You're a nervous chap。 The way you look at
those poor devils！〃
Pippin hustled him along the deck。 〃Come； come； you took me off my
guard；〃 he murmured； with a sly； gentle smile； 〃that's not fair。〃
He found it a continual source of wonder that Pippin； at his age；
should cut himself adrift from the associations and security of
London life to begin a new career in a new country with dubious
prospect of success。 'I always heard he was doing well all round；'
he thought； 'thinks he'll better himself； perhaps。 He's a true
Cornishman。'
The morning of arrival at the mines was grey and cheerless； a cloud
of smoke； beaten down by drizzle； clung above the forest； the wooden
houses straggled dismally in the unkempt semblance of a street；
against a background of endless； silent woods。 An air of blank
discouragement brooded over everything； cranes jutted idly over empty
trucks； the long jetty oozed black slime； miners with listless faces
stood in the rain； dogs fought under their very legs。 On the way to
the hotel they met no one busy or serene except a Chinee who was
polishing a dish…cover。
The late superintendent； a cowed man； regaled them at lunch with his
forebodings； his attitude toward the situation was like the food；
which was greasy and uninspiring。 Alone together once more； the two
newcomers eyed each other sadly。
〃Oh dear！〃 sighed Pippin。 〃We must change all this； Scorrier； it
will never do to go back beaten。 I shall not go back beaten； you
will have to carry me on my shield；〃 and slyly： 〃Too heavy； eh？ Poor
fellow！〃 Then for a long time he was silent； moving his lips as if
adding up the cost。 Suddenly he sighed； and grasping Scorrier's arm；
said： 〃Dull； aren't I？ What will you do？ Put me in your report；
'New Superintendentsad； dull dognot a word to throw at a cat！'〃
And as if the new task were too much for him； he sank back in
thought。 The last words he said to Scorrier that night were： 〃Very
silent here。 It's hard to believe one's here for life。 But I feel I
am。 Mustn't be a coward； though！〃 and brushing his forehead； as
though to clear from it a cobweb of faint thoughts； he hurried off。
Scorrier stayed on the veranda smoking。 The rain had ceased； a few
stars were burning dimly； even above the squalor of the township the
scent of the forests； the interminable forests； brooded。 There
sprang into his mind the memory of a picture from one of his
children's fairy booksthe picture of a little bearded man on
tiptoe； with poised head and a great sword； slashing at the castle of
a giant。 It reminded him of Pippin。 And suddenly； even to Scorrier…
…whose existence was one long encounter with strange placesthe
unseen presence of those woods； their heavy； healthy scent； the
little sounds； like squeaks from tiny toys； issuing out of the gloomy
silence； seemed intolerable； to be shunned； from the mere instinct of
self…preservation。 He thought of the evening he had spent in the
bosom of 〃Down…by…the…starn〃 Hemmings' family； receiving his last
instructionsthe security of that suburban villa； its discouraging
gentility； the superior acidity of the Miss Hemmings； the noble names
of large contractors； of company promoters； of a peer； dragged with
the lightness of gun…carriages across the conversation； the autocracy
of Hemmings； rasped up here and there； by some domestic
contradiction。 It was all so nice and safeas if the whole thing
had been fastened to an anchor sunk beneath the pink cabbages of the
drawing…room carpet！ Hemmings； seeing him off the premises； had said
with secrecy： 〃Little Pippin will have a good thing。 We shall make
his salary L。 He'll be a great man…quite a king。 Ha…ha！〃
Scorrier shook the ashes from his pipe。 'Salary！' he thought；
straining his ears； 'I wouldn't take the place for five thousand
pounds a year。 And yet it's a fine country；' and with ironic
violence he repeated； 'a dashed fine country！'
Ten days later； having finished his report on the new mine； he stood
on the jetty waiting to go abroad the steamer for home。
〃God bless you！〃 said Pippin。 〃Tell them they needn't be afraid； and
sometimes when you're at home think of me； eh？〃
Scorrier； scrambling on board； had a confused memory of tears in his
eyes； and a convulsive handshake。
II
It was eight years before the wheels of life carried Scorrier back to
that disenchanted spot； and this time not on the business of the New
Colliery Company。 He went for another company with a mine some
thirty miles away。 Before starting； however； he visited Hemmings。
The secretary was surrounded by pigeon…holes and finer than ever；
Scorrier blinked in the full radiance of his courtesy。 A little man
with eyebrows full of questions； and a grizzled beard； was seated in
an arm…chair by the fire。
〃You know Mr。 Booker；〃 said Hemmings〃one of my directors。 This is
Mr。 Scorrier； sirwho went out for us。〃
These sentences were murmured in a way suggestive of their uncommon
value。 The director uncrossed his legs； and bowed。 Scorrier also
bowed； and Hemmings； leaning back； slowly developed the full
resources of his waistcoat。
〃So you are going out again； Scorrier； for the other side？ I tell
Mr。 Scorrier； sir； that he is going out for the enemy。 Don't find
them a mine as good as you found us； there's a good man。〃
The little director asked explosively： 〃See our last dividend？
Twenty per cent； eh； what？〃
Hemmings moved a finger； as if reproving his director。 〃I will not
disguise from you；〃 he murmured； 〃that there is friction between us
andthe enemy； you know our position too welljust a little too
well； eh？ 'A nod's as good as a wink。'〃
His diplomatic eyes flattered Scorrier； who passed a hand over his
browand said： 〃Of course。〃
〃Pippin doesn't hit it off with them。 Between ourselves； he's a
leetle too big for his boots。 You know what it is when a man in his
position gets a sudden rise！〃
Scorrier caught himself searching on the floor for a sight of
Hemmings' boots； he raised his eyes guiltily。 The secretary
continued： 〃We don't hear from him quite as often as we should like；
in fact。〃
To his own surprise Scorrier murmured： 〃It's a silent place！〃
The secretary smiled。 〃Very good！ Mr。 Scorrier says； sir； it's a
silent place； ha…ha！ I call that very good！〃 But suddenly a secret
irritation seemed to bubble in him； he burst forth almost violently：
〃He's no business to let it affect him； now； has he？ I put it to
you； Mr。 Scorrier； I put it to you； sir！〃
But Scorrier made no reply； and soon after took his leave： he had
been asked to convey a friendly hint to Pippin that more frequent
letters would be welcomed。 Standing in the shadow of the Royal
Exchange； waiting to thread his way across； he thought： 'So you m