'Hollo, you, Sir; what do want there?' cried the surgeon,
with a sort of unaccountable antipathy and fear. 'He lost his last
shilling in the great bankruptcy, in October,' answered Dunstan's voice
behind his ear; and in the earth-coloured face which the beggar turned
up towards him, Sturk recognised his own features--''Tis I'--he gasped
out with an oath, and awoke in a horror, not knowing where he was.
'I--I'm dying.'
'October,' thought Sturk--'bankruptcy. 'Tis just because I'm always
thinking of that infernal bill, and old Dyle's renewal, and the rent.'
Indeed, the surgeon had a stormy look forward, and the navigation of
October was so threatening, awful, and almost desperate, as he stood
alone through the dreadful watches at the helm, with hot cheek and
unsteady hand, trusting stoically to luck and hoping against hope, that
rocks would melt, and the sea cease from drowning, that it was almost a
wonder he did not leap overboard, only for the certainty of a cold head
and a quiet heart, and one deep sleep.
And, then, he used to tot up his liabilities for that accursed month,
near whose yawning verge he already stood; and then, think of every
penny coming to him, and what might be rescued and wrung from runaways
and bankrupts whose bills he held, and whom he used to curse in his bed,
with his fists and his teeth clenched, when poor little Mrs.
Pages:
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373