got my rights. I always done my best and I never done nothing wrong. And what I donât see is why I should be put below a bloody murderer like you.â
âWho knows whether you will be? Only be happy and come with me.â
âWhat do you keep on arguing for? Iâm only telling you the sort of chap I am. I only want my rights. Iâm not asking for anybodyâs bleeding charity.â
âThen do. At once. Ask for the Bleeding Charity. Everything is here for the asking and nothing can be bought.â
âThat may do very well for you, I daresay. If they choose to let in a bloody murderer all because he makes a poor mouth at the last moment, thatâs their look out. ButI donât see myself going in the same boat as you, see? Why should I? I donât want charity. Iâm a decent man and if I had my rights Iâd have been here long ago and you can tell them I said so.â
The other shook his head. âYou can never do it like that,â he said. âYour feet will never grow hard enough to walk on our grass that way. Youâd be tired out before we got to the mountains. And it isnât exactly true, you know.â Mirth danced in his eyes as he said it.
âWhat isnât true?â asked the Ghost sulkily.
âYou werenât a decent man and you didnât do your best. We none of us were and none of us did. Lord bless you, it doesnât matter. There is no need to go into it all now.â
âYou!â gasped the Ghost. â You have the face to tell me I wasnât a decent chap?â
âOf course. Must I go into all that? I will tell you one thing to begin with. Murdering old Jack wasnât the worst thing I did. That was the work of a moment and I was half mad when I did it. But I murdered you in my heart, deliberately, for years. I used to lie awake at nights thinking what Iâd do to you if I ever got the chance. That is why I have been sent to you now: to ask your forgiveness and to be your servant as long as you need one, andlonger if it pleases you. I was the worst. But all the men who worked under you felt the same. You made it hard for us, you know. And you made it hard for your wife too and for your children.â
âYou mind your own business, young man,â said the Ghost. âNone of your lip, see? Because Iâm not taking any impudence from you about my private affairs.â
âThere are no private affairs,â said the other.
âAnd Iâll tell you another thing,â said the Ghost. âYou can clear off, see? Youâre not wanted. I may be only a poor man but Iâm not making pals with a murderer, let alone taking lessons from him. Made it hard for you and your like, did I? If I had you back there Iâd show you what work is.â
âCome and show me now,â said the other with laughter in his voice, âIt will be joy going to the mountains, but there will be plenty of work.â
âYou donât suppose Iâd go with you?â
âDonât refuse. You will never get there alone. And I am the one who was sent to you.â
âSo thatâs the trick, is it?â shouted the Ghost, outwardly bitter, and yet I thought there was a kind of triumph in its voice. It had been entreated: it could make a refusal: and this seemed to it a kind of advantage. âI thought thereâd be somedamned nonsense. Itâs all a clique, all a bloody clique. Tell them Iâm not coming, see? Iâd rather be damned than go along with you. I came here to get my rights, see? Not to go snivelling along on charity tied onto your apron-strings. If theyâre too fine to have me without you, Iâll go home.â It was almost happy now that it could, in a sense, threaten. âThatâs what Iâll do,â it repeated, âIâll go home. I didnât come here to be treated like a dog. Iâll go home. Thatâs what Iâll do. Damn and blast the