“Whatever you please, Stubber. Give them the third-class cross of Massa,
or a month's imprisonment, at your own good pleasure. Only, no more
business,--no papers to sign, no schemes to unravel; and so good night.”
And the Chevalier retired at once from a presence which he well knew
resented no injury so unmercifully as any invasion of his personal
comfort.
CHAPTER XXX. THE LIFE THEY LED AT MASSA
It was with no small astonishment young Massy heard that he and his
faithful follower were not alone restored to liberty, but that an
order of his Highness had assigned them a residence in a portion of the
palace, and a promise of future employment.
“This smacks of Turkish rather than of European rule,” said the youth.
“In prison yesterday,--in a palace to-day. My own fortunes are wayward
enough, Heaven knows, not to require any additional ingredient of
uncertainty. What think you, Traynor?”
“I'm thinkin',” said Billy, gravely, “that as the bastes of the field
are guided by their instincts to objects that suit their natures, so
man ought, by his reason, to be able to pilot himself in
difficulties,--choosin' this, avoidin' that; seein' by the eye of
prophecy where a road would lead him, and makin' of what seem the
accidents of life, steppin'-stones to fortune.”
“In what way does your theory apply here?” cried the other. “How am I to
guess whither this current may carry me?”
“At all events, there's no use wastin' your strength by swimmin' against
it,” rejoined Billy.
“To be the slave of some despot's whim,--the tool of a caprice that may
elevate me to-day, and to-morrow sentence me to the gallows. The object
I have set before myself in life is to be independent. Is this, then,
the road to it?”
“You 're tryin' to be what no man ever was, or will be, to the world's
end, then,” said Billy. “Sure it's the very nature and essence of our
life here below that we are dependent one on the other for kindness, for
affection, for material help in time of difficulty, for counsel in time
of doubt. The rich man and the poor one have their mutual dependencies;
and if it was n't so, cowld-hearted and selfish as the world is, it
would be five hundred times worse.”
“You mistake my meaning,” said Massy, sternly, “as you often do, to read
me a lesson on a text of your own. When I spoke of independence, I meant
freedom from the serfdom of another's charity. I would that my life
here, at least, should be of my own procuring.”
“_I_ get mine from _you_,” said Traynor, calmly, “and never felt myself
a slave on that account.”
“Forgive me, my dear, kind friend. I could hate myself if I gave you a
moment's pain. This temper of mine does not improve by time.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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