Prev | Current Page 143 | Next

Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"

There must be hundreds of good, Christian folk in the
world who had only to know to stretch out a hand of help and gladly,
as I would have helped such a case in the days of my own prosperity.
Remember, I am not putting this forward as a sober plea. I know it
now to be false, self-cheating, the apology that every beggar makes
for himself, the specious argument that every poor man must resist
who would hold fast by his manhood. But there, with the wine in me
and the juices of good meat, the temptation took me at unawares and
mastered me as I had never allowed it to master me while I hungered.
I saw the world in a sudden rosy light; I felt that my past
sufferings had been unnecessary. I thought of Major Brooks--"
"Bless the man!" interjected Miss Belcher. "He's coming to the point
at last."
"Your pardon, ma'am. I will be briefer. I thought of Major Brooks.
I took a resolve there and then to extend my holiday; to walk hither
to Minden Cottage, and lay my case before him. The banquet had no
sooner broken up than I started. I reached Truro at nightfall, and
hired a bed there for sixpence. Early next morning I set forward
again. By this time the impulse had died out of me, but I still
walked forward, playing with my intention, always telling myself that
I could relinquish it and turn back to Falmouth, cheating--yes, I
fear deliberately cheating--myself with the assurance until more than
half the journey lay behind me, and to turn back would be worse than
pusillanimous.


Pages:
131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155