"Sulky, eh? Here, you," he roared, turning upon Esau, "where has he
been? How long has he been gone?"
"Don't you hit me! Don't you hit me!" cried the boy, sulkily; "I shan't
stand this."
"I say, how long has he been gone?"
"I was only gone a few minutes, sir," I said.
"Gone a few minutes, you scoundrel! How dare you be gone a few minutes,
leaving my office open? You're no more use than a boy out of the
streets, and if I did my duty by you, I should thrash you till you could
not stand. Back to your desk, you dog, and the next time I catch you at
any of these tricks off you go, and no character."
As I climbed back to my place at the desk, hot, flushed, and indignant,
feeling more and more unable to explain the reason for my absence, and
guilty at the same time--knowing as I did that I had no business to
steal off--Mr Dempster turned once more upon Esau, who backed away from
him round the office, sparring away with his arms to ward off the blows
aimed at him, though I don't think they were intended to strike, but
only as a malicious kind of torture.
"Here, don't you hit me! don't you hit me!" Esau kept on saying, as if
this was the only form of words he could call up in his excitement.
"I'll half break your neck for you, you scoundrel! Is that catalogue
done?"
"How can I get it done when you keep on chivvying me about the place?"
cried Esau.
"How can you get it done if you go to sleep, you scoundrel, you mean.
Now then, up on to that stool, and if it isn't done you stop after hours
till it is done. Here, what are you staring at? Get on with those
letters."
Mr Dempster had turned upon me furiously as I sat looking, and with a
sigh I went on with my writing, while red-faced and wet-eyed, for he
could not keep the tears back, Esau climbed slowly on to his stool, and
gave a tremendous sniff.
"I shall tell mother as soon as I get home," he cried.
"Tell your mother, you great calf! You had better not," roared Mr
Dempster. "She has troubles enough. It was only out of charity to her
that I took you on. For you are useless--perfectly useless. I lose
pounds through your blunders. There, that will do. Get on with your
work."
He went back into the inner office, and banged the door so heavily that
all the auction bills which papered the walls of our office began to
flap and swing about. Then for a few minutes there was only the
scratching of our pens to be heard.
Then Esau gave a tremendous sniff, began wiping his eyes on the cuffs of
his jacket, and held the blotting-paper against each in turn as he
looked across at me.
"'Tain't crying," he said. "Only water. Ketch him making me cry!"
"You were crying," I said, quietly.
"No, I wasn't. Don't you get turning again' me too. Take a better man
than him to make me cry."