“Is there such a thing as an Englishman here, or anyone with a little civilization?”
One of the men put his hand to his belt, but his neighbor checked him and answered me.
“You’ll find we’ve got some of the resources of civilization before very long, mister, and I expect you’ll not fancy them extremely. But anyway, there’s an Englishman tarrying here, and I’ve no doubt he’ll be glad to see you. There you are, that’s Mr. D’Aubernoun.”
A young man, dressed like an English country squire, came and stood at the door, and looked at me. One of the men pointed to me and said:—
“That’s the individual we were talking about last night. Thought you might like to have a look at him, squire, and here he is.”
The young fellow’s good-natured English face clouded over, and he glanced sternly at me, and turned away with a gesture of contempt and aversion.
“Sir,” I cried, “I do not know what I have done to be treated in this manner. You are my fellow-countryman, and I expected some courtesy.”
He gave me a black look and made as if he would go in, but he changed his mind, and faced me.
“You are rather imprudent, I think, to behave in this manner. You must be counting on a forbearance which cannot last very long; which may last a very short time, indeed. And let me tell you this, sir, you may call yourself an Englishman and drag the name of England through the dirt, but you need not count on any English influence to help you. If I were you, I would not stay here much longer.”
He went into the inn, and the men quietly watched my face, as I stood there, wondering whether I was going mad. The woman of the house came out and stared at me as if I were a wild beast or a savage, and I turned to her, and spoke quietly.
“I am very hungry and thirsty, I have walked a long way. I have plenty of money. Will you give me something to eat and drink?”
“No, I won’t,” she said. “You had better quit this.”
I crawled home like a wounded beast, and lay down on my bed. It was all a hopeless puzzle to me. I knew nothing but rage and shame and terror, and I suffered little more when I passed by a house in an adjacent valley, and some children who were playing outside ran from me shrieking. I was forced to walk to find some occupation. I should have died if I had sat down quietly in Blue Rock Park and looked all day at the mountains; but wherever I saw a human being I saw the same glance of hatred and aversion, and once as I was crossing a thick brake I heard a shot, and the venomous hiss of a bullet close to my ear.
One day I heard a conversation which astounded me; I was sitting behind a rock resting, and two men came along the track and halted. One of them had got his feet entangled in some wild vines, and swore fiercely, but the other laughed, and said they were useful things sometimes.
“What the hell do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing much. But they’re uncommon tough, these here vines, and sometimes rope is skerse and dear.”
The man who had sworn chuckled at this, and I heard them sit down and light their pipes.
“Have you seen