CHAPTER FIVE

Elizabeth and her mother were given a room on the second floor of the Three Mariners. Seeing the clean condition of the room, both women worried that they might not have enough money to pay for even a single night there.

"We can't expect Mr Henchard to help us with money," said Mrs Newson, "We'll never even get a chance to talk with him, because of his high level here."

Immediately, Elizabeth got an idea and went downstairs to the bar area.

"Excuse me, Madame," she said approaching the wife of the hotel owner, "Could our room be cheaper if I assist you tonight?"

The woman, who was generally very friendly to her guests, agreed. At the sound of a bell behind her, she suggested that Elizabeth start by taking dinner to the Scotsman on the second floor.

She went up with the young man's food almost immediately and saw that his room was next to hers and her mother's. She found him alone in his room, reading a newspaper. Not a single word was exchanged between the two of them.

Afterward, Elizabeth took some food up to her mother, but as she entered the room, her mother motioned with her hand for her daughter to be quiet. Neither of them moved after that and voices could suddenly be heard coming from the Scotsman's room.

"It's the Mayor!" said Mrs Newson with a shaking voice.

It was, indeed, Henchard next door with the young man. Their voices could be heard very clearly, as if they were in the same room with the women.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I must ask you if you wrote a note to me earlier today," said Henchard.

"Mm-hm" answered the young man, obviously still eating his dinner.

"So it seems that you know a way to make our wheat better here. Our bread's terrible and I don't know why. If you could help us out, I'd gladly pay you well for it."

"Well, let me show you what I can do," said the young man. A few minutes then went by where it seemed the Scotsman was demonstrating something for the Mayor. Then the young man could be heard again, saying, "Now taste that bit of wheat."

"My God, it tastes so much better!" cried Henchard, "It's almost totally good again!"

"It's better, but not perfect. Anyway, I'll gladly teach you the technique. I'm going to America soon to get into the corn industry. They won't be needing such methods there, because the weather's so good."

"Listen to me. Don't go to America. I'll hire you here as my company's corn manager. You'll make good money. What's your name, by the way?"

"It's Donald Farfrae, and I appreciate your offer; however, I must refuse. I've a good plan to go abroad and I mean to keep it."

"Well, what can I do to repay you for this extremely valuable information you've given me, Mr Farfrae?" asked the Mayor.

"You needn't do anything, sir. I have very little use for the information I shared with you. You seemed to be in a bad situation back at that hotel. I just thought I'd try and help you out. You're welcome to stay and have a beer with me, though."

"No, I've completely given up drinking. Alcohol made me do something pretty terrible a long time ago and I'm still ashamed of it. I haven't touched a drop of that stuff since."

"Well, I won't pressure you."

"I really do wish you would reconsider my offer. I don't think I'll ever find another man as qualified as you to be my manager. Oh well, thank you again!"

The Scotsman saw Mr Henchard to the door and then returned to his meal.

(end of section)