Benjamin Farjeon - Basil and Annette

"Like yourselves," thought Basil, gazing at the men, but deeming it prudent not to express himself aloud upon a point so personal. He spoke, however. "It is the place I was making for. I suppose I can put up here for the night?"

"There's nothing to prevent you. Gum Flat township just now is Liberty Hall."

"Stop a bit, stop a bit," said Nonentity Number One, considering it necessary to his dignity that he should take part in the conference. "Is the gentleman prepared to pay for accommodation?"

"That's a proper question," said Nonentity Number Two, thus asserting himself.

"Of course he is," said Jim the Hatter, answering for Basil, who, with an empty purse, was saved from awkwardness.

A diversion occurred here. Newman Chaytor snatched the candle from Jim the Hatter, in order that he might obtain a clearer view of Basil.

"Manners, mate," said Jim the Hatter.

"Manners be hanged!" retorted Newman Chaytor, holding the candle high. "They're out of stock."

This was evident. To smooth matters Basil volunteered an explanation. "I have come hereupon business, but I am afraid I have lost my time."

"Perhaps not," said Jim the Hatter. "We're all business men here; ready at a moment's notice to turn a honest penny. That's true, ain't it, mate?"

He addressed Newman Chaytor, but that worthy did not reply. Having obtained a clearer view of Basil's face, he seemed to be suddenly struck dumb, and stared at it as though he were fascinated.

"Still," continued Jim the Hatter, "it's as well to be particular in these times. I'm very choice in the company I keep, and I don't as a rule do business with strangers, unless," he added, with a grin which found its reflection on the lips of Nonentities Numbers One and Two, "they pay their footing first."

"If you wish to know my name," said Basil, "it is Basil Whittingham."

"What!" cried Newman Chaytor, finding his tongue; but the exclamation of undoubted astonishment appeared to be forced from him instead of being voluntarily uttered.

"Basil Whittingham," repeated Basil. "Being here, I must stop for the night. Is there a stable near?"

"There's one at the back," said Newman Chaytor, with sudden alacrity, "or rather there was one. I'll show you."

"Thank you," said Basil, and followed his guide to the rear of the shanty.

The three men looked after them with no good will.

"He's a swell," said Nonentity Number One.

"He's got a watch and chain," said Nonentity Number Two.

"And a horse," said Jim the Hatter.

Then they re-entered the store, and settled down to their game of cards.

"Stop here a moment," said Newman Chaytor to Basil. "I'll get a light."

Returning with a candle stuck in a bottle, the fashionable form of candlestick in Gum Flat, he waved it about, sometimes so close to Basil that it shone upon his features.

"You stare at me," said Basil, "as if you knew me."

"Never saw you before to my knowledge." (A falsehood, but that is a detail.) "You're not a colonial."

"I am an Englishman, like yourself, I judge."

"Yes, I am English."

"You have the advantage of me-you know my name. May I ask yours?"

"Certainly," said Chaytor, but he spoke, nevertheless, with a certain hesitation, as if something of importance hung upon it. "My name is Newman, with Chaytor tacked to it." Then, anxiously, "Have you heard it before?"

"Never. This is a tumble-down place. It is a courtesy to call it a stable."

"It will serve, in place of a better."

"Oh, yes, it is better than nothing."

"Everything is tumble-down in Gum Flat. I am an Englishman town-bred. And you?"

"My people hail from Devonshire."

"I am not dreaming, then," said Chaytor, speaking for the second time involuntarily.

"Dreaming!" exclaimed Basil.

"I was thinking of another matter," said Chaytor, with readiness. "Speaking my thoughts aloud is one of my bad tricks."

"One of mine, too," said Basil smiling.

"That is not the only thing in which we're alike."

"No."

"We are about the same age, about the same build, and we are both gentlemen. Your horse is blown; you have ridden a long distance."

"From Bidaud's plantation."

"I have heard of it. And you come upon business? I may be able to assist you."

"I shall be glad of assistance," said Basil, recognising in his companion an obvious superiority to the men they had left. "When I passed through Gum Flat a few months ago I thought it a township likely to thrive, and now I find it pretty well deserted."

"It has gone to the dogs, as I told you. There's nothing but grass for your horse to nibble at. So you're from Devonshire. Do your people live there still?"

He mixed up the subjects of his remarks in the oddest manner, and cast furtive glances at Basil with a certain mental preoccupation which would have forced itself upon Basil's attention had he not been so occupied with his own special cares.

"There are none left," said Basil. "I am the only one remaining."

"The only one?"

"Well, I have an old uncle, but we are not exactly on amicable terms."

"You are better off than I am. I have no family left." He sighed pathetically. "I fancy I can lay my hands on a bundle of sweet hay."

"I should feel grateful."

"Don't leave the stable till I come back; I shan't be gone long."

He was absent ten minutes or so and though he went straight about his errand, he was thinking of something very different. "It is the most wonderful thing in the world," ran his thoughts-"that I should meet him here again, in this hole, not changed in the slightest! It can't be accident; it was predestined, and I should be a self-confessed idiot if I did not take advantage of it. But how is it to be worked? His uncle is still alive. What did he say? 'We are not exactly on amicable terms.' That is because he is proud. I am not. I should be a better nephew to the old fellow than this upstart. He is very old, in his second childhood most likely. This is the turning-point of my life, and I will not throw away the chance. Just as I was at the bottom of the ladder, too. I'll climb to the top-I will, I will!" He raised his hand to the skies, as though registering an oath.

"There," he said, throwing down a bundle of hay which the horse immediately began to munch, "with a bucket of water your mare will do very well. I'll fetch it."

"You are very kind," said Basil, warming to Newman Chaytor.

"Not at all. Noblesse oblige ." This was said with a grand air.

Basil held out his hand, and Chaytor pressed it effusively. Then, at Chaytor's request, Basil spoke of the errand upon which he was engaged, and being plied skilfully with questions, put his companion in possession of a great deal he wished to know, not only in relation to the affairs of Bidaud's plantation, but his own personal history as well.

"It is curious," said Chaytor, "that we two should have met at such a time and in such a place. Who knows what may come of it? I am, strange to say, a bit of a doctor and a bit of a lawyer, and if you will accept my services I shall be glad to accompany you back to Bidaud's plantation."

"But why?" asked Basil, touched by the apparently unselfish offer. "I have no claim upon you."

"Except the claim that one gentleman has upon another-which should count for something. It always has with me."

"Upon my word I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't try. It is myself I am rendering a service to, not you. This deserted hole, and the association of those men" – jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the tent-"sicken me. Does there not come to some men a crisis in their lives which compels them to turn over a new leaf, as the saying is, to cut themselves away entirely from the past and commence life anew?"

"Yes," said Basil, struck by the application of this figure of speech to his own circumstances, "it has come to me."