His cigarette burnt down rapidly as he leaned over the fence thinking of his future, so throwing away the stump, he took out his tobacco-pouch and a little book of rice paper, in order to manufacture another, talking to himself meanwhile as is the fashion of solitary men.
"Two weeks," he said musingly, while he deftly rolled the tobacco in his slender fingers, "two weeks in this blessed place--well, there's one good thing, the rest will do me good, and I'll go back to Town as steady as a rock; the medicine is disagreeable, but the result will be excellent. What bad luck I've had lately--everything seems against me. I'll have to make a big effort to get some cash, or I'll end my days in a workhouse--ugh!" shivering again, "not that--God, how I dread poverty! Never mind," he went on gaily, shrugging his shoulders, "there are plenty of fools in this world, and as everything was created for a special purpose, I presume _le bon Dieu_ made fools to feather clever men's nests."
He laughed softly at this cynicism, then, lighting the cigarette, placed it in his mouth and resumed his soliloquy.
"Forty-five and still living on my wits. Ah, Basil, my friend, you've been an awful fool, and yet, if I had to live my life over again, I don't know that I would act differently. Circumstances have been too strong for me. With a certain income I might have been an honest man, but Fate--pish!--why do I blame that unhappy deity whom men always make a scapegoat for their own shortcomings? It's myself, and none other, I should curse. Well, well, rich or poor, honest man or scoundrel, I'll go with all the rest of my species through the valley of the shadow."
He raised his eyes once more to the melancholy scene before him, when suddenly his quick ear caught the sound of footsteps coming briskly along the road, and he smiled to himself as the invisible pedestrian began to whistle "Garryowen."
"Plenty of spirits," he muttered, flicking the ash off his cigarette, "or perhaps not enough, seeing he has to cheer himself with Irish melodies."
The footsteps came nearer, and shortly afterwards a man paused in the centre of the road as he saw the still figure leaning indolently against the fence. A fair-haired ruddy-faced man, of medium height, arrayed in a walking suit, with a knapsack on his shoulder, and a heavy stick in his hand.