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diff --git a/13085-h/13085-h.htm b/13085-h/13085-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b11cd93 --- /dev/null +++ b/13085-h/13085-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11362 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Diversity of Creatures, by Rudyard Kipling</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + blockquote {text-align: justify; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%;} + .loc { TEXT-ALIGN: right; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i1 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i3 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i5 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 6em;} + .poem p.i7 {margin-left: 7em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 8em;} + .poem p.i9 {margin-left: 9em;} + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + height: 5px; } + a:link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:#ff0000} + pre {font-size: 8pt; + margin-left: 10%; } + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13085 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Diversity of Creatures, by Rudyard Kipling</h1> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>A Diversity of<br> +Creatures</h1> +<h3>By Rudyard Kipling</h3> +<h4>1917</h4> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<br> +<blockquote>With two exceptions, the dates at the head of these +stories show when they were published in magazine form. 'The +Village that Voted the Earth was Flat,' and 'My Son's Wife' carry +the dates when they were written.</blockquote> +<br> +<p class="loc">RUDYARD KIPLING.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<br> +<center><a href="#page003">As Easy as ABC</a><br> +<a href="#page045"><i>MacDonough's Song</i></a><br> +<a href="#page047">Friendly Brook</a><br> +<a href="#page065"><i>The Land</i></a><br> +<a href="#page071">In the Same Boat</a><br> +<a href="#page104">'<i>Helen all Alone</i>'</a><br> +<a href="#page107">The Honours of War</a><br> +<a href="#page131"><i>The Children</i></a><br> +<a href="#page133">The Dog Hervey</a><br> +<a href="#page160"><i>The Comforters</i></a><br> +<a href="#page163">The Village that Voted the Earth was +Flat</a><br> +<a href="#page216"><i>The Press</i></a><br> +<a href="#page219">In the Presence</a><br> +<a href="#page239"><i>Jobson's Amen</i></a><br> +<a href="#page241">Regulus</a><br> +<a href="#page273"><i>A Translation</i></a><br> +<a href="#page275">The Edge of the Evening</a><br> +<a href="#page300"><i>Rebirth</i></a><br> +<a href="#page303">The Horse Marines</a><br> +<a href="#page330"><i>The Legend of Mirth</i></a><br> +<a href="#page335">'My Son's Wife'</a><br> +<a href="#page379"><i>The Floods</i></a><br> +<a href="#page381"><i>The Fabulists</i></a><br> +<a href="#page383">The Vortex</a><br> +<a href="#page405"><i>The Song of Seven Cities</i></a><br> +<a href="#page409">'Swept and Garnished'</a><br> +<a href="#page421">Mary Postgate</a><br> +<a href="#page443"><i>The Beginnings</i></a></center> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>A DIVERSITY OF CREATURES</h2> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page003"></a> +<h2>As Easy as A.B.C.</h2> +<h3>(1912)</h3> +<blockquote><i>The A.B.C., that semi-elected, semi-nominated body +of a few score persons, controls the Planet. Transportation is +Civilisation, our motto runs. Theoretically we do what we please, +so long as we do not interfere with the traffic</i> and all it +implies. <i>Practically, the A.B.C. confirms or annuls all +international arrangements, and, to judge from its last report, +finds our tolerant, humorous, lazy little Planet only too ready to +shift the whole burden of public administration on its +shoulders</i>.</blockquote> +<p class="loc">'With the Night Mail<a name="FNanchor1"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_1">[1]</a>.'</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a> +<i>Actions and Reactions</i>.</blockquote> +<p>Isn't it almost time that our Planet took some interest in the +proceedings of the Aërial Board of Control? One knows that +easy communications nowadays, and lack of privacy in the past, have +killed all curiosity among mankind, but as the Board's Official +Reporter I am bound to tell my tale.</p> +<p>At 9.30 A.M., August 26, A.D. 2065, the Board, sitting in +London, was informed by De Forest that the District of Northern +Illinois had riotously cut itself out of all systems and would +remain disconnected till the Board should take over and administer +it direct.</p> +<p>Every Northern Illinois freight and passenger tower was, he +reported, out of action; all District main, local, and guiding +lights had been extinguished; all General Communications were dumb, +and through traffic had been diverted. No reason had been given, +but he gathered unofficially from the Mayor of Chicago that the +District complained of 'crowd-making and invasion of privacy.'</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, it is of no importance whether Northern +Illinois stay in or out of planetary circuit; as a matter of +policy, any complaint of invasion of privacy needs immediate +investigation, lest worse follow.</p> +<p>By 9-45 A.M. De Forest, Dragomiroff (Russia), Takahira (Japan), +and Pirolo (Italy) were empowered to visit Illinois and 'to take +such steps as might be necessary for the resumption of traffic and +<i>all that that implies.'</i> By 10 A.M. the Hall was empty, and +the four Members and I were aboard what Pirolo insisted on calling +'my leetle godchild'--that is to say, the new <i>Victor Pirolo</i>. +Our Planet prefers to know Victor Pirolo as a gentle, grey-haired +enthusiast who spends his time near Foggia, inventing or creating +new breeds of Spanish-Italian olive-trees; but there is another +side to his nature--the manufacture of quaint inventions, of which +the <i>Victor Pirolo</i> is, perhaps, not the least surprising. She +and a few score sister-craft of the same type embody his latest +ideas. But she is not comfortable. An A.B.C. boat does not take the +air with the level-keeled lift of a liner, but shoots up +rocket-fashion like the 'aeroplane' of our ancestors, and makes her +height at top-speed from the first. That is why I found myself +sitting suddenly on the large lap of Eustace Arnott, who commands +the A.B.C. Fleet. One knows vaguely that there is such a thing as a +Fleet somewhere on the Planet, and that, theoretically, it exists +for the purposes of what used to be known as 'war.' Only a week +before, while visiting a glacier sanatorium behind Gothaven, I had +seen some squadrons making false auroras far to the north while +they manoeuvred round the Pole; but, naturally, it had never +occurred to me that the things could be used in earnest.</p> +<p>Said Arnott to De Forest as I staggered to a seat on the +chart-room divan: 'We're tremendously grateful to 'em in Illinois. +We've never had a chance of exercising all the Fleet together. I've +turned in a General Call, and I expect we'll have at least two +hundred keels aloft this evening.'</p> +<p>'Well aloft?' De Forest asked.</p> +<p>'Of course, sir. Out of sight till they're called for.'</p> +<p>Arnott laughed as he lolled over the transparent chart-table +where the map of the summer-blue Atlantic slid along, degree by +degree, in exact answer to our progress. Our dial already showed +320 m.p.h. and we were two thousand feet above the uppermost +traffic lines.</p> +<p>'Now, where is this Illinois District of yours?' said +Dragomiroff. 'One travels so much, one sees so little. Oh, I +remember! It is in North America.'</p> +<p>De Forest, whose business it is to know the out districts, told +us that it lay at the foot of Lake Michigan, on a road to nowhere +in particular, was about half an hour's run from end to end, and, +except in one corner, as flat as the sea. Like most flat countries +nowadays, it was heavily guarded against invasion of privacy by +forced timber--fifty-foot spruce and tamarack, grown in five years. +The population was close on two millions, largely migratory between +Florida and California, with a backbone of small farms (they call a +thousand acres a farm in Illinois) whose owners come into Chicago +for amusements and society during the winter. They were, he said, +noticeably kind, quiet folk, but a little exacting, as all flat +countries must be, in their notions of privacy. There had, for +instance, been no printed news-sheet in Illinois for twenty-seven +years. Chicago argued that engines for printed news sooner or later +developed into engines for invasion of privacy, which in turn might +bring the old terror of Crowds and blackmail back to the Planet. So +news-sheets were not.</p> +<p>'And that's Illinois,' De Forest concluded. 'You see, in the Old +Days, she was in the forefront of what they used to call +"progress," and Chicago--'</p> +<p>'Chicago?' said Takahira. 'That's the little place where there +is Salati's Statue of the Nigger in Flames? A fine bit of old +work.'</p> +<p>'When did you see it?' asked De Forest quickly. 'They only +unveil it once a year.'</p> +<p>'I know. At Thanksgiving. It was then,' said Takahira, with a +shudder. 'And they sang MacDonough's Song, too.'</p> +<p>'Whew!' De Forest whistled. 'I did not know that! I wish you'd +told me before. MacDonough's Song may have had its uses when it was +composed, but it was an infernal legacy for any man to leave +behind.'</p> +<p>'It's protective instinct, my dear fellows,' said Pirolo, +rolling a cigarette. 'The Planet, she has had her dose of popular +government. She suffers from inherited agoraphobia. She has +no--ah--use for Crowds.'</p> +<p>Dragomiroff leaned forward to give him a light. 'Certainly,' +said the white-bearded Russian, 'the Planet has taken all +precautions against Crowds for the past hundred years. What is our +total population to-day? Six hundred million, we hope; five +hundred, we think; but--but if next year's census shows more than +four hundred and fifty, I myself will eat all the extra little +babies. We have cut the birth-rate out--right out! For a long time +we have said to Almighty God, "Thank You, Sir, but we do not much +like Your game of life, so we will not play."'</p> +<p>'Anyhow,' said Arnott defiantly, 'men live a century apiece on +the average now.'</p> +<p>'Oh, that is quite well! I am rich--you are rich--we are all +rich and happy because we are so few and we live so long. Only +<i>I</i> think Almighty God He will remember what the Planet was +like in the time of Crowds and the Plague. Perhaps He will send us +nerves. Eh, Pirolo?'</p> +<p>The Italian blinked into space. 'Perhaps,' he said, 'He has sent +them already. Anyhow, you cannot argue with the Planet. She does +not forget the Old Days, and--what can you do?'</p> +<p>'For sure we can't remake the world.' De Forest glanced at the +map flowing smoothly across the table from west to east. 'We ought +to be over our ground by nine to-night. There won't be much sleep +afterwards.'</p> +<p>On which hint we dispersed, and I slept till Takahira waked me +for dinner. Our ancestors thought nine hours' sleep ample for their +little lives. We, living thirty years longer, feel ourselves +defrauded with less than eleven out of the twenty-four.</p> +<p>By ten o'clock we were over Lake Michigan. The west shore was +lightless, except for a dull ground-glare at Chicago, and a single +traffic-directing light--its leading beam pointing north--at +Waukegan on our starboard bow. None of the Lake villages gave any +sign of life; and inland, westward, so far as we could see, +blackness lay unbroken on the level earth. We swooped down and +skimmed low across the dark, throwing calls county by county. Now +and again we picked up the faint glimmer of a house-light, or heard +the rasp and rend of a cultivator being played across the fields, +but Northern Illinois as a whole was one inky, apparently +uninhabited, waste of high, forced woods. Only our illuminated map, +with its little pointer switching from county to county as we +wheeled and twisted, gave us any idea of our position. Our calls, +urgent, pleading, coaxing or commanding, through the General +Communicator brought no answer. Illinois strictly maintained her +own privacy in the timber which she grew for that purpose.</p> +<p>'Oh, this is absurd!' said De Forest. 'We're like an owl trying +to work a wheat-field. Is this Bureau Creek? Let's land, Arnott, +and get hold of some one.'</p> +<p>We brushed over a belt of forced woodland--fifteen-year-old +maple sixty feet high--grounded on a private meadow-dock, none too +big, where we moored to our own grapnels, and hurried out through +the warm dark night towards a light in a verandah. As we neared the +garden gate I could have sworn we had stepped knee-deep in +quicksand, for we could scarcely drag our feet against the +prickling currents that clogged them. After five paces we stopped, +wiping our foreheads, as hopelessly stuck on dry smooth turf as so +many cows in a bog.</p> +<p>'Pest!' cried Pirolo angrily. 'We are ground-circuited. And it +is my own system of ground-circuits too! I know the pull.'</p> +<p>'Good evening,' said a girl's voice from the verandah. 'Oh, I'm +sorry! We've locked up. Wait a minute.'</p> +<p>We heard the click of a switch, and almost fell forward as the +currents round our knees were withdrawn.</p> +<p>The girl laughed, and laid aside her knitting. An old-fashioned +Controller stood at her elbow, which she reversed from time to +time, and we could hear the snort and clank of the obedient +cultivator half a mile away, behind the guardian woods.</p> +<p>'Come in and sit down,' she said. 'I'm only playing a plough. +Dad's gone to Chicago to--Ah! Then it was <i>your</i> call I heard +just now!'</p> +<p>She had caught sight of Arnott's Board uniform, leaped to the +switch, and turned it full on.</p> +<p>We were checked, gasping, waist-deep in current this time, three +yards from the verandah.</p> +<p>'We only want to know what's the matter with Illinois,' said De +Forest placidly.</p> +<p>'Then hadn't you better go to Chicago and find out?' she +answered. 'There's nothing wrong here. We own ourselves.'</p> +<p>'How can we go anywhere if you won't loose us?' De Forest went +on, while Arnott scowled. Admirals of Fleets are still quite human +when their dignity is touched.</p> +<p>'Stop a minute--you don't know how funny you look!' She put her +hands on her hips and laughed mercilessly.</p> +<p>'Don't worry about that,' said Arnott, and whistled. A voice +answered from the <i>Victor Pirolo</i> in the meadow.</p> +<p>'Only a single-fuse ground-circuit!' Arnott called. 'Sort it out +gently, please.'</p> +<p>We heard the ping of a breaking lamp; a fuse blew out somewhere +in the verandah roof, frightening a nestful of birds. The +ground-circuit was open. We stooped and rubbed our tingling +ankles.</p> +<p>'How rude--how very rude of you!' the maiden cried.</p> +<p>''Sorry, but we haven't time to look funny,' said Arnott. 'We've +got to go to Chicago; and if I were you, young lady, I'd go into +the cellars for the next two hours, and take mother with me.'</p> +<p>Off he strode, with us at his heels, muttering indignantly, till +the humour of the thing struck and doubled him up with laughter at +the foot of the gang-way ladder.</p> +<p>'The Board hasn't shown what you might call a fat spark on this +occasion,' said De Forest, wiping his eyes. 'I hope I didn't look +as big a fool as you did, Arnott! Hullo! What on earth is that? Dad +coming home from Chicago?'</p> +<p>There was a rattle and a rush, and a five-plough cultivator, +blades in air like so many teeth, trundled itself at us round the +edge of the timber, fuming and sparking furiously.</p> +<p>'Jump!' said Arnott, as we bundled ourselves through the +none-too-wide door. 'Never mind about shutting it. Up!'</p> +<p>The <i>Victor Pirolo</i> lifted like a bubble, and the vicious +machine shot just underneath us, clawing high as it passed.</p> +<p>'There's a nice little spit-kitten for you!' said Arnott, +dusting his knees. 'We ask her a civil question. First she circuits +us and then she plays a cultivator at us!'</p> +<p>'And then we fly,' said Dragomiroff. 'If I were forty years more +young, I would go back and kiss her. Ho! Ho!'</p> +<p>'I,' said Pirolo, 'would smack her! My pet ship has been chased +by a dirty plough; a--how do you say?--agricultural implement.'</p> +<p>'Oh, that is Illinois all over,' said De Forest. 'They don't +content themselves with talking about privacy. They arrange to have +it. And now, where's your alleged fleet, Arnott? We must assert +ourselves against this wench.'</p> +<p>Arnott pointed to the black heavens.</p> +<p>'Waiting on--up there,' said he. 'Shall I give them the whole +installation, sir?'</p> +<p>'Oh, I don't think the young lady is quite worth that,' said De +Forest. 'Get over Chicago, and perhaps we'll see something.'</p> +<p>In a few minutes we were hanging at two thousand feet over an +oblong block of incandescence in the centre of the little town.</p> +<p>'That looks like the old City Hall. Yes, there's Salati's Statue +in front of it,' said Takahira. 'But what on earth are they doing +to the place? I thought they used it for a market nowadays! Drop a +little, please.'</p> +<p>We could hear the sputter and crackle of road-surfacing +machines--the cheap Western type which fuse stone and rubbish into +lava-like ribbed glass for their rough country roads. Three or four +surfacers worked on each side of a square of ruins. The brick and +stone wreckage crumbled, slid forward, and presently spread out +into white-hot pools of sticky slag, which the levelling-rods +smoothed more or less flat. Already a third of the big block had +been so treated, and was cooling to dull red before our astonished +eyes.</p> +<p>'It is the Old Market,' said De Forest. 'Well, there's nothing +to prevent Illinois from making a road through a market. It doesn't +interfere with traffic, that I can see.'</p> +<p>'Hsh!' said Arnott, gripping me by the shoulder. 'Listen! +They're singing. Why on the earth are they singing?'</p> +<p>We dropped again till we could see the black fringe of people at +the edge of that glowing square.</p> +<p>At first they only roared against the roar of the surfacers and +levellers. Then the words came up clearly--the words of the +Forbidden Song that all men knew, and none let pass their +lips--poor Pat MacDonough's Song, made in the days of the Crowds +and the Plague--every silly word of it loaded to sparking-point +with the Planet's inherited memories of horror, panic, fear and +cruelty. And Chicago--innocent, contented little Chicago--was +singing it aloud to the infernal tune that carried riot, pestilence +and lunacy round our Planet a few generations ago!</p> +<blockquote>'Once there was The People--Terror gave it birth;<br> +Once there was The People, and it made a hell of +earth!'</blockquote> +<p>(Then the stamp and pause):</p> +<blockquote>'Earth arose and crushed it. Listen, oh, ye slain!<br> +Once there was The People--it shall never be again!'</blockquote> +<p>The levellers thrust in savagely against the ruins as the song +renewed itself again, again and again, louder than the crash of the +melting walls.</p> +<p>De Forest frowned.</p> +<p>'I don't like that,' he said. 'They've broken back to the Old +Days! They'll be killing somebody soon. I think we'd better divert +'em, Arnott.'</p> +<p>'Ay, ay, sir.' Arnott's hand went to his cap, and we heard the +hull of the <i>Victor Pirolo</i> ring to the command: 'Lamps! Both +watches stand by! Lamps! Lamps! Lamps!'</p> +<p>'Keep still!' Takahira whispered to me. 'Blinkers, please, +quartermaster.'</p> +<p>'It's all right--all right!' said Pirolo from behind, and to my +horror slipped over my head some sort of rubber helmet that locked +with a snap. I could feel thick colloid bosses before my eyes, but +I stood in absolute darkness.</p> +<p>'To save the sight,' he explained, and pushed me on to the +chart-room divan. 'You will see in a minute.'</p> +<p>As he spoke I became aware of a thin thread of almost +intolerable light, let down from heaven at an immense distance--one +vertical hairsbreadth of frozen lightning.</p> +<p>'Those are our flanking ships,' said Arnott at my elbow. 'That +one is over Galena. Look south--that other one's over Keithburg. +Vincennes is behind us, and north yonder is Winthrop Woods. The +Fleet's in position, sir'--this to De Forest. 'As soon as you give +the word.'</p> +<p>'Ah no! No!' cried Dragomiroff at my side. I could feel the old +man tremble. 'I do not know all that you can do, but be kind! I ask +you to be a little kind to them below! This is +horrible--horrible!'</p> +<blockquote>'When a Woman kills a Chicken,<br> +Dynasties and Empires sicken,'</blockquote> +<p>Takahira quoted. 'It is too late to be gentle now.'</p> +<p>'Then take off my helmet! Take off my helmet!' Dragomiroff began +hysterically.</p> +<p>Pirolo must have put his arm round him.</p> +<p>'Hush,' he said, 'I am here. It is all right, Ivan, my dear +fellow.'</p> +<p>'I'll just send our little girl in Bureau County a warning,' +said Arnott. 'She don't deserve it, but we'll allow her a minute or +two to take mamma to the cellar.'</p> +<p>In the utter hush that followed the growling spark after Arnott +had linked up his Service Communicator with the invisible Fleet, we +heard MacDonough's Song from the city beneath us grow fainter as we +rose to position. Then I clapped my hand before my mask lenses, for +it was as though the floor of Heaven had been riddled and all the +inconceivable blaze of suns in the making was poured through the +manholes.</p> +<p>'You needn't count,' said Arnott. I had had no thought of such a +thing. 'There are two hundred and fifty keels up there, five miles +apart. Full power, please, for another twelve seconds.'</p> +<p>The firmament, as far as eye could reach, stood on pillars of +white fire. One fell on the glowing square at Chicago, and turned +it black.</p> +<p>'Oh! Oh! Oh! Can men be allowed to do such things?' Dragomiroff +cried, and fell across our knees.</p> +<p>'Glass of water, please,' said Takahira to a helmeted shape that +leaped forward. 'He is a little faint.'</p> +<p>The lights switched off, and the darkness stunned like an +avalanche. We could hear Dragomiroff's teeth on the glass edge.</p> +<p>Pirolo was comforting him.</p> +<p>'All right, all ra-ight,' he repeated. 'Come and lie down. Come +below and take off your mask. I give you my word, old friend, it is +all right. They are my siege-lights. Little Victor Pirolo's leetle +lights. You know <i>me</i>! I do not hurt people.'</p> +<p>'Pardon!' Dragomiroff moaned. 'I have never seen Death. I have +never seen the Board take action. Shall we go down and burn them +alive, or is that already done?'</p> +<p>'Oh, hush,' said Pirolo, and I think he rocked him in his +arms.</p> +<p>'Do we repeat, sir?' Arnott asked De Forest.</p> +<p>'Give 'em a minute's break,' De Forest replied. 'They may need +it.'</p> +<p>We waited a minute, and then MacDonough's Song, broken but +defiant, rose from undefeated Chicago.</p> +<p>'They seem fond of that tune,' said De Forest. 'I should let 'em +have it, Arnott.'</p> +<p>'Very good, sir,' said Arnott, and felt his way to the +Communicator keys.</p> +<p>No lights broke forth, but the hollow of the skies made herself +the mouth for one note that touched the raw fibre of the brain. Men +hear such sounds in delirium, advancing like tides from horizons +beyond the ruled foreshores of space.</p> +<p>'That's our pitch-pipe,' said Arnott. 'We may be a bit ragged. +I've never conducted two hundred and fifty performers before.' He +pulled out the couplers, and struck a full chord on the Service +Communicators.</p> +<p>The beams of light leaped down again, and danced, solemnly and +awfully, a stilt-dance, sweeping thirty or forty miles left and +right at each stiff-legged kick, while the darkness delivered +itself--there is no scale to measure against that utterance--of the +tune to which they kept time. Certain notes--one learnt to expect +them with terror--cut through one's marrow, but, after three +minutes, thought and emotion passed in indescribable agony.</p> +<p>We saw, we heard, but I think we were in some sort swooning. The +two hundred and fifty beams shifted, re-formed, straddled and +split, narrowed, widened, rippled in ribbons, broke into a thousand +white-hot parallel lines, melted and revolved in interwoven rings +like old-fashioned engine-turning, flung up to the zenith, made as +if to descend and renew the torment, halted at the last instant, +twizzled insanely round the horizon, and vanished, to bring back +for the hundredth time darkness more shattering than their +instantly renewed light over all Illinois. Then the tune and lights +ceased together, and we heard one single devastating wail that +shook all the horizon as a rubbed wet finger shakes the rim of a +bowl.</p> +<p>'Ah, that is my new siren,' said Pirolo. 'You can break an +iceberg in half, if you find the proper pitch. They will whistle by +squadrons now. It is the wind through pierced shutters in the +bows.'</p> +<p>I had collapsed beside Dragomiroff, broken and snivelling +feebly, because I had been delivered before my time to all the +terrors of Judgment Day, and the Archangels of the Resurrection +were hailing me naked across the Universe to the sound of the music +of the spheres.</p> +<p>Then I saw De Forest smacking Arnott's helmet with his open +hand. The wailing died down in a long shriek as a black shadow +swooped past us, and returned to her place above the lower +clouds.</p> +<p>'I hate to interrupt a specialist when he's enjoying himself,' +said De Forest. 'But, as a matter of fact, all Illinois has been +asking us to stop for these last fifteen seconds.'</p> +<p>'What a pity.' Arnott slipped off his mask. 'I wanted you to +hear us really hum. Our lower C can lift street-paving.'</p> +<p>'It is Hell--Hell!' cried Dragomiroff, and sobbed aloud.</p> +<p>Arnott looked away as he answered:</p> +<p>'It's a few thousand volts ahead of the old +shoot-'em-and-sink-'em game, but I should scarcely call it +<i>that</i>. What shall I tell the Fleet, sir?'</p> +<p>'Tell 'em we're very pleased and impressed. I don't think they +need wait on any longer. There isn't a spark left down there.' De +Forest pointed. 'They'll be deaf and blind.'</p> +<p>'Oh, I think not, sir. The demonstration lasted less than ten +minutes.'</p> +<p>'Marvellous!' Takahira sighed. 'I should have said it was half a +night. Now, shall we go down and pick up the pieces?'</p> +<p>'But first a small drink,' said Pirolo. 'The Board must not +arrive weeping at its own works.'</p> +<p>'I am an old fool--an old fool!' Dragomiroff began piteously. 'I +did not know what would happen. It is all new to me. We reason with +them in Little Russia.'</p> +<p>Chicago North landing-tower was unlighted, and Arnott worked his +ship into the clips by her own lights. As soon as these broke out +we heard groanings of horror and appeal from many people below.</p> +<p>'All right,' shouted Arnott into the darkness. 'We aren't +beginning again!' We descended by the stairs, to find ourselves +knee-deep in a grovelling crowd, some crying that they were blind, +others beseeching us not to make any more noises, but the greater +part writhing face downward, their hands or their caps before their +eyes.</p> +<p>It was Pirolo who came to our rescue. He climbed the side of a +surfacing-machine, and there, gesticulating as though they could +see, made oration to those afflicted people of Illinois.</p> +<p>'You stchewpids!' he began. 'There is nothing to fuss for. Of +course, your eyes will smart and be red to-morrow. You will look as +if you and your wives had drunk too much, but in a little while you +will see again as well as before. I tell you this, and I--I am +Pirolo. Victor Pirolo!'</p> +<p>The crowd with one accord shuddered, for many legends attach to +Victor Pirolo of Foggia, deep in the secrets of God.</p> +<p>'Pirolo?' An unsteady voice lifted itself. 'Then tell us was +there anything except light in those lights of yours just now?'</p> +<p>The question was repeated from every corner of the darkness.</p> +<p>Pirolo laughed.</p> +<p>'No!' he thundered. (Why have small men such large voices?) 'I +give you my word and the Board's word that there was nothing except +light--just light! You stchewpids! Your birth-rate is too low +already as it is. Some day I must invent something to send it up, +but send it down--never!'</p> +<p>'Is that true?--We thought--somebody said--'</p> +<p>One could feel the tension relax all round.</p> +<p>'You too big fools,' Pirolo cried. 'You could have sent us a +call and we would have told you.'</p> +<p>'Send you a call!' a deep voice shouted. 'I wish you had been at +our end of the wire.'</p> +<p>'I'm glad I wasn't,' said De Forest. 'It was bad enough from +behind the lamps. Never mind! It's over now. Is there any one here +I can talk business with? I'm De Forest--for the Board.'</p> +<p>'You might begin with me, for one--I'm Mayor,' the bass voice +replied.</p> +<p>A big man rose unsteadily from the street, and staggered towards +us where we sat on the broad turf-edging, in front of the garden +fences.</p> +<p>'I ought to be the first on my feet. Am I?' said he.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said De Forest, and steadied him as he dropped down +beside us.</p> +<p>'Hello, Andy. Is that you?' a voice called.</p> +<p>'Excuse me,' said the Mayor; 'that sounds like my Chief of +Police, Bluthner!'</p> +<p>'Bluthner it is; and here's Mulligan and Keefe--on their +feet.'</p> +<p>'Bring 'em up please, Blut. We're supposed to be the Four in +charge of this hamlet. What we says, goes. And, De Forest, what do +you say?'</p> +<p>'Nothing--yet,' De Forest answered, as we made room for the +panting, reeling men. '<i>You've</i> cut out of system. Well?'</p> +<p>'Tell the steward to send down drinks, please,' Arnott whispered +to an orderly at his side.</p> +<p>'Good!' said the Mayor, smacking his dry lips. 'Now I suppose we +can take it, De Forest, that henceforward the Board will administer +us direct?'</p> +<p>'Not if the Board can avoid it,' De Forest laughed. 'The A.B.C. +is responsible for the planetary traffic only.'</p> +<p>'<i>And all that that implies</i>.' The big Four who ran Chicago +chanted their Magna Charta like children at school.</p> +<p>'Well, get on,' said De Forest wearily. 'What is your silly +trouble anyway?'</p> +<p>'Too much dam' Democracy,' said the Mayor, laying his hand on De +Forest's knee.</p> +<p>'So? I thought Illinois had had her dose of that.'</p> +<p>'She has. That's why. Blut, what did you do with our prisoners +last night?'</p> +<p>'Locked 'em in the water-tower to prevent the women killing +'em,' the Chief of Police replied. 'I'm too blind to move just yet, +but--'</p> +<p>'Arnott, send some of your people, please, and fetch 'em along,' +said De Forest.</p> +<p>'They're triple-circuited,' the Mayor called. 'You'll have to +blow out three fuses.' He turned to De Forest, his large outline +just visible in the paling darkness. 'I hate to throw any more work +on the Board. I'm an administrator myself, but we've had a little +fuss with our Serviles. What? In a big city there's bound to be a +few men and women who can't live without listening to themselves, +and who prefer drinking out of pipes they don't own both ends of. +They inhabit flats and hotels all the year round. They say it saves +'em trouble. Anyway, it gives 'em more time to make trouble for +their neighbours. We call 'em Serviles locally. And they are apt to +be tuberculous.'</p> +<p>'Just so!' said the man called Mulligan. Transportation is +Civilisation. Democracy is Disease. I've proved it by the +blood-test, every time.'</p> +<p>'Mulligan's our Health Officer, and a one-idea man,' said the +Mayor, laughing. 'But it's true that most Serviles haven't much +control. They <i>will</i> talk; and when people take to talking as +a business, anything may arrive--mayn't it, De Forest?'</p> +<p>'Anything--except the facts of the case,' said De Forest, +laughing.</p> +<p>'I'll give you those in a minute,' said the Mayor. 'Our Serviles +got to talking--first in their houses and then on the streets, +telling men and women how to manage their own affairs. (You can't +teach a Servile not to finger his neighbour's soul.) That's +invasion of privacy, of course, but in Chicago we'll suffer +anything sooner than make Crowds. Nobody took much notice, and so I +let 'em alone. My fault! I was warned there would be trouble, but +there hasn't been a Crowd or murder in Illinois for nineteen +years.'</p> +<p>'Twenty-two,' said his Chief of Police.</p> +<p>'Likely. Anyway, we'd forgot such things. So, from talking in +the houses and on the streets, our Serviles go to calling a meeting +at the Old Market yonder.' He nodded across the square where the +wrecked buildings heaved up grey in the dawn-glimmer behind the +square-cased statue of The Negro in Flames. 'There's nothing to +prevent any one calling meetings except that it's against human +nature to stand in a Crowd, besides being bad for the health. I +ought to have known by the way our men and women attended that +first meeting that trouble was brewing. There were as many as a +thousand in the market-place, touching each other. Touching! Then +the Serviles turned in all tongue-switches and talked, and +we--'</p> +<p>'What did they talk about?' said Takahira.</p> +<p>'First, how badly things were managed in the city. That pleased +us Four--we were on the platform--because we hoped to catch one or +two good men for City work. You know how rare executive capacity +is. Even if we didn't it's--it's refreshing to find any one +interested enough in our job to damn our eyes. You don't know what +it means to work, year in, year out, without a spark of difference +with a living soul.'</p> +<p>'Oh, don't we!' said De Forest. 'There are times on the Board +when we'd give our positions if any one would kick us out and take +hold of things themselves.'</p> +<p>'But they won't,' said the Mayor ruefully. 'I assure you, sir, +we Four have done things in Chicago, in the hope of rousing people, +that would have discredited Nero. But what do they say? "Very good, +Andy. Have it your own way. Anything's better than a Crowd. I'll go +back to my land." You <i>can't</i> do anything with folk who can go +where they please, and don't want anything on God's earth except +their own way. There isn't a kick or a kicker left on the +Planet.'</p> +<p>'Then I suppose that little shed yonder fell down by itself?' +said De Forest. We could see the bare and still smoking ruins, and +hear the slag-pools crackle as they hardened and set.</p> +<p>'Oh, that's only amusement. 'Tell you later. As I was saying, +our Serviles held the meeting, and pretty soon we had to +ground-circuit the platform to save 'em from being killed. And that +didn't make our people any more pacific.'</p> +<p>'How d'you mean?' I ventured to ask.</p> +<p>'If you've ever been ground-circuited,' said the Mayor, 'you'll +know it don't improve any man's temper to be held up straining +against nothing. No, sir! Eight or nine hundred folk kept pawing +and buzzing like flies in treacle for two hours, while a pack of +perfectly safe Serviles invades their mental and spiritual privacy, +may be amusing to watch, but they are not pleasant to handle +afterwards.'</p> +<p>Pirolo chuckled.</p> +<p>'Our folk own themselves. They were of opinion things were going +too far and too fiery. I warned the Serviles; but they're born +house-dwellers. Unless a fact hits 'em on the head they cannot see +it. Would you believe me, they went on to talk of what they called +"popular government"? They did! They wanted us to go back to the +old Voodoo-business of voting with papers and wooden boxes, and +word-drunk people and printed formulas, and news-sheets! They said +they practised it among themselves about what they'd have to eat in +their flats and hotels. Yes, sir! They stood up behind Bluthner's +doubled ground-circuits, and they said that, in this present year +of grace, <i>to</i> self-owning men and women, <i>on</i> that very +spot! Then they finished'--he lowered his voice cautiously--'by +talking about "The People." And then Bluthner he had to sit up all +night in charge of the circuits because he couldn't trust his men +to keep 'em shut.'</p> +<p>'It was trying 'em too high,' the Chief of Police broke in. 'But +we couldn't hold the Crowd ground-circuited for ever. I gathered in +all the Serviles on charge of Crowd-making, and put 'em in the +water-tower, and then I let things cut loose. I had to! The +District lit like a sparked gas-tank!'</p> +<p>'The news was out over seven degrees of country,' the Mayor +continued; 'and when once it's a question of invasion of privacy, +good-bye to right and reason in Illinois! They began turning out +traffic-lights and locking up landing-towers on Thursday night. +Friday, they stopped all traffic and asked for the Board to take +over. Then they wanted to clean Chicago off the side of the Lake +and rebuild elsewhere--just for a souvenir of "The People" that the +Serviles talked about. I suggested that they should slag the Old +Market where the meeting was held, while I turned in a call to you +all on the Board. That kept 'em quiet till you came along. And--and +now <i>you</i> can take hold of the situation.'</p> +<p>'Any chance of their quieting down?' De Forest asked.</p> +<p>'You can try,' said the Mayor.</p> +<p>De Forest raised his voice in the face of the reviving Crowd +that had edged in towards us. Day was come.</p> +<p>'Don't you think this business can be arranged?' he began. But +there was a roar of angry voices:</p> +<p>'We've finished with Crowds! We aren't going back to the Old +Days! Take us over! Take the Serviles away! Administer direct or +we'll kill 'em! Down with The People!'</p> +<p>An attempt was made to begin MacDonough's Song. It got no +further than the first line, for the <i>Victor Pirolo</i> sent down +a warning drone on one stopped horn. A wrecked side-wall of the Old +Market tottered and fell inwards on the slag-pools. None spoke or +moved till the last of the dust had settled down again, turning the +steel case of Salati's Statue ashy grey.</p> +<p>'You see you'll just <i>have</i> to take us over,' the Mayor +whispered.</p> +<p>De Forest shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>'You talk as if executive capacity could be snatched out of the +air like so much horse-power. Can't you manage yourselves on any +terms?' he said.</p> +<p>'We can, if you say so. It will only cost those few lives to +begin with,'</p> +<p>The Mayor pointed across the square, where Arnott's men guided a +stumbling group of ten or twelve men and women to the lake front +and halted them under the Statue.</p> +<p>'Now I think,' said Takahira under his breath, 'there will be +trouble.'</p> +<p>The mass in front of us growled like beasts.</p> +<p>At that moment the sun rose clear, and revealed the blinking +assembly to itself. As soon as it realized that it was a crowd we +saw the shiver of horror and mutual repulsion shoot across it +precisely as the steely flaws shot across the lake outside. Nothing +was said, and, being half blind, of course it moved slowly. Yet in +less than fifteen minutes most of that vast multitude--three +thousand at the lowest count--melted away like frost on south +eaves. The remnant stretched themselves on the grass, where a crowd +feels and looks less like a crowd.</p> +<p>'These mean business,' the Mayor whispered to Takahira. 'There +are a goodish few women there who've borne children. I don't like +it.'</p> +<p>The morning draught off the lake stirred the trees round us with +promise of a hot day; the sun reflected itself dazzlingly on the +canister-shaped covering of Salati's Statue; cocks crew in the +gardens, and we could hear gate-latches clicking in the distance as +people stumblingly resought their homes.</p> +<p>'I'm afraid there won't be any morning deliveries,' said De +Forest. 'We rather upset things in the country last night.'</p> +<p>'That makes no odds,' the Mayor returned. 'We're all provisioned +for six months. <i>We</i> take no chances.'</p> +<p>Nor, when you come to think of it, does any one else. It must be +three-quarters of a generation since any house or city faced a food +shortage. Yet is there house or city on the Planet to-day that has +not half a year's provisions laid in? We are like the shipwrecked +seamen in the old books, who, having once nearly starved to death, +ever afterwards hide away bits of food and biscuit. Truly we trust +no Crowds, nor system based on Crowds!</p> +<p>De Forest waited till the last footstep had died away. Meantime +the prisoners at the base of the Statue shuffled, posed, and +fidgeted, with the shamelessness of quite little children. None of +them were more than six feet high, and many of them were as +grey-haired as the ravaged, harassed heads of old pictures. They +huddled together in actual touch, while the crowd, spaced at large +intervals, looked at them with congested eyes.</p> +<p>Suddenly a man among them began to talk. The Mayor had not in +the least exaggerated. It appeared that our Planet lay sunk in +slavery beneath the heel of the Aërial Board of Control. The +orator urged us to arise in our might, burst our prison doors and +break our fetters (all his metaphors, by the way, were of the most +mediæval). Next he demanded that every matter of daily life, +including most of the physical functions, should be submitted for +decision at any time of the week, month, or year to, I gathered, +anybody who happened to be passing by or residing within a certain +radius, and that everybody should forthwith abandon his concerns to +settle the matter, first by crowd-making, next by talking to the +crowds made, and lastly by describing crosses on pieces of paper, +which rubbish should later be counted with certain mystic +ceremonies and oaths. Out of this amazing play, he assured us, +would automatically arise a higher, nobler, and kinder world, +based--he demonstrated this with the awful lucidity of the +insane--based on the sanctity of the Crowd and the villainy of the +single person. In conclusion, he called loudly upon God to testify +to his personal merits and integrity. When the flow ceased, I +turned bewildered to Takahira, who was nodding solemnly.</p> +<p>'Quite correct,' said he. 'It is all in the old books. He has +left nothing out, not even the war-talk.'</p> +<p>'But I don't see how this stuff can upset a child, much less a +district,' I replied.</p> +<p>'Ah, you are too young,' said Dragomiroff. 'For another thing, +you are not a mamma. Please look at the mammas.'</p> +<p>Ten or fifteen women who remained had separated themselves from +the silent men, and were drawing in towards the prisoners. It +reminded one of the stealthy encircling, before the rush in at the +quarry, of wolves round musk-oxen in the North. The prisoners saw, +and drew together more closely. The Mayor covered his face with his +hands for an instant. De Forest, bareheaded, stepped forward +between the prisoners, and the slowly, stiffly moving line.</p> +<p>'That's all very interesting,' he said to the dry-lipped orator. +'But the point seems that you've been making crowds and invading +privacy.'</p> +<p>A woman stepped forward, and would have spoken, but there was a +quick assenting murmur from the men, who realised that De Forest +was trying to pull the situation down to ground-line.</p> +<p>'Yes! Yes!' they cried. 'We cut out because they made crowds and +invaded privacy! Stick to that! Keep on that switch! Lift the +Serviles out of this! The Board's in charge! Hsh!'</p> +<p>'Yes, the Board's in charge,' said De Forest. 'I'll take formal +evidence of crowd-making if you like, but the Members of the Board +can testify to it. Will that do?'</p> +<p>The women had closed in another pace, with hands that clenched +and unclenched at their sides.</p> +<p>'Good! Good enough!' the men cried. 'We're content. Only take +them away quickly.'</p> +<p>'Come along up!' said De Forest to the captives, 'Breakfast is +quite ready.'</p> +<p>It appeared, however, that they did not wish to go. They +intended to remain in Chicago and make crowds. They pointed out +that De Forest's proposal was gross invasion of privacy.</p> +<p>'My dear fellow,' said Pirolo to the most voluble of the +leaders, 'you hurry, or your crowd that can't be wrong will kill +you!'</p> +<p>'But that would be murder,' answered the believer in crowds; and +there was a roar of laughter from all sides that seemed to show the +crisis had broken.</p> +<p>A woman stepped forward from the line of women, laughing, I +protest, as merrily as any of the company. One hand, of course, +shaded her eyes, the other was at her throat.</p> +<p>'Oh, they needn't be afraid of being killed!' she called.</p> +<p>'Not in the least,' said De Forest. 'But don't you think that, +now the Board's in charge, you might go home while we get these +people away?'</p> +<p>'I shall be home long before that. It--it has been rather a +trying day.'</p> +<p>She stood up to her full height, dwarfing even De Forest's +six-foot-eight, and smiled, with eyes closed against the fierce +light.</p> +<p>'Yes, rather,' said De Forest. 'I'm afraid you feel the glare a +little. We'll have the ship down.'</p> +<p>He motioned to the <i>Pirolo</i> to drop between us and the sun, +and at the same time to loop-circuit the prisoners, who were a +trifle unsteady. We saw them stiffen to the current where they +stood. The woman's voice went on, sweet and deep and unshaken:</p> +<p>'I don't suppose you men realise how much this--this sort of +thing means to a woman. I've borne three. We women don't want our +children given to Crowds. It must be an inherited instinct. Crowds +make trouble. They bring back the Old Days. Hate, fear, blackmail, +publicity, "The People"--<i>That! That! That</i>!' She pointed to +the Statue, and the crowd growled once more.</p> +<p>'Yes, if they are allowed to go on,' said De Forest. 'But this +little affair--'</p> +<p>'It means so much to us women that this--this little affair +should never happen again. Of course, never's a big word, but one +feels so strongly that it is important to stop crowds at the very +beginning. Those creatures'--she pointed with her left hand at the +prisoners swaying like seaweed in a tideway as the circuit pulled +them--'those people have friends and wives and children in the city +and elsewhere. One doesn't want anything done to <i>them</i>, you +know. It's terrible to force a human being out of fifty or sixty +years of good life. I'm only forty myself. <i>I</i> know. But, at +the same time, one feels that an example should be made, because no +price is too heavy to pay if--if these people and <i>all that they +imply</i> can be put an end to. Do you quite understand, or would +you be kind enough to tell your men to take the casing off the +Statue? It's worth looking at.'</p> +<p>'I understand perfectly. But I don't think anybody here wants to +see the Statue on an empty stomach. Excuse me one moment.' De +Forest called up to the ship, 'A flying loop ready on the port +side, if you please.' Then to the woman he said with some +crispness, 'You might leave us a little discretion in the +matter.'</p> +<p>'Oh, of course. Thank you for being so patient. I know my +arguments are silly, but--' She half turned away and went on in a +changed voice, 'Perhaps this will help you to decide.'</p> +<p>She threw out her right arm with a knife in it. Before the blade +could be returned to her throat or her bosom it was twitched from +her grip, sparked as it flew out of the shadow of the ship above, +and fell flashing in the sunshine at the foot of the Statue fifty +yards away. The outflung arm was arrested, rigid as a bar for an +instant, till the releasing circuit permitted her to bring it +slowly to her side. The other women shrank back silent among the +men.</p> +<p>Pirolo rubbed his hands, and Takahira nodded.</p> +<p>'That was clever of you, De Forest,' said he.</p> +<p>'What a glorious pose!' Dragomiroff murmured, for the frightened +woman was on the edge of tears.</p> +<p>'Why did you stop me? I would have done it!' she cried.</p> +<p>'I have no doubt you would,' said De Forest. 'But we can't waste +a life like yours on these people. I hope the arrest didn't sprain +your wrist; it's so hard to regulate a flying loop. But I think you +are quite right about those persons' women and children. We'll take +them all away with us if you promise not to do anything stupid to +yourself.'</p> +<p>'I promise--I promise.' She controlled herself with an effort. +'But it is so important to us women. We know what it means; and I +thought if you saw I was in earnest--'</p> +<p>'I saw you were, and you've gained your point. I shall take all +your Serviles away with me at once. The Mayor will make lists of +their friends and families in the city and the district, and he'll +ship them after us this afternoon.'</p> +<p>'Sure,' said the Mayor, rising to his feet. 'Keefe, if you can +see, hadn't you better finish levelling off the Old Market? It +don't look sightly the way it is now, and we shan't use it for +crowds any more.'</p> +<p>'I think you had better wipe out that Statue as well, Mr. +Mayor,' said De Forest. 'I don't question its merits as a work of +art, but I believe it's a shade morbid.'</p> +<p>'Certainly, sir. Oh, Keefe! Slag the Nigger before you go on to +fuse the Market. I'll get to the Communicators and tell the +District that the Board is in charge. Are you making any special +appointments, sir?'</p> +<p>'None. We haven't men to waste on these back-woods. Carry on as +before, but under the Board. Arnott, run your Serviles aboard, +please. Ground ship and pass them through the bilge-doors. We'll +wait till we've finished with this work of art.'</p> +<p>The prisoners trailed past him, talking fluently, but unable to +gesticulate in the drag of the current. Then the surfacers rolled +up, two on each side of the Statue. With one accord the spectators +looked elsewhere, but there was no need. Keefe turned on full +power, and the thing simply melted within its case. All I saw was a +surge of white-hot metal pouring over the plinth, a glimpse of +Salati's inscription, 'To the Eternal Memory of the Justice of the +People,' ere the stone base itself cracked and powdered into finest +lime. The crowd cheered.</p> +<p>'Thank you,' said De Forest; 'but we want our break-fasts, and I +expect you do too. Good-bye, Mr. Mayor! Delighted to see you at any +time, but I hope I shan't have to, officially, for the next thirty +years. Good-bye, madam. Yes. We're all given to nerves nowadays. I +suffer from them myself. Good-bye, gentlemen all! You're under the +tyrannous heel of the Board from this moment, but if ever you feel +like breaking your fetters you've only to let us know. This is no +treat to us. Good luck!'</p> +<p>We embarked amid shouts, and did not check our lift till they +had dwindled into whispers. Then De Forest flung himself on the +chart-room divan and mopped his forehead.</p> +<p>'I don't mind men,' he panted, 'but women are the devil!'</p> +<p>'Still the devil,' said Pirolo cheerfully. 'That one would have +suicided.'</p> +<p>'I know it. That was why I signalled for the flying loop to be +clapped on her. I owe you an apology for that, Arnott. I hadn't +time to catch your eye, and you were busy with our caitiffs. By the +way, who actually answered my signal? It was a smart piece of +work.'</p> +<p>'Ilroy,' said Arnott; 'but he overloaded the wave. It may be +pretty gallery-work to knock a knife out of a lady's hand, but +didn't you notice how she rubbed 'em? He scorched her fingers. +Slovenly, I call it.'</p> +<p>'Far be it from me to interfere with Fleet discipline, but don't +be too hard on the boy. If that woman had killed herself they would +have killed every Servile and everything related to a Servile +throughout the district by nightfall.'</p> +<p>'That was what she was playing for,' Takahira said. 'And with +our Fleet gone we could have done nothing to hold them.'</p> +<p>'I may be ass enough to walk into a ground-circuit,' said +Arnott, 'but I don't dismiss my Fleet till I'm reasonably sure that +trouble is over. They're in position still, and I intend to keep +'em there till the Serviles are shipped out of the district. That +last little crowd meant murder, my friends.'</p> +<p>'Nerves! All nerves!' said Pirolo. 'You cannot argue with +agoraphobia.'</p> +<p>'And it is not as if they had seen much dead--or <i>is</i> it?' +said Takahira.</p> +<p>'In all my ninety years I have never seen Death.' Dragomiroff +spoke as one who would excuse himself. 'Perhaps that was why--last +night--'</p> +<p>Then it came out as we sat over breakfast, that, with the +exception of Arnott and Pirolo, none of us had ever seen a corpse, +or knew in what manner the spirit passes.</p> +<p>'We're a nice lot to flap about governing the Planet,' De Forest +laughed. 'I confess, now it's all over, that my main fear was I +mightn't be able to pull it off without losing a life.'</p> +<p>'I thought of that too,' said Arnott; 'but there's no death +reported, and I've inquired everywhere. What are we supposed to do +with our passengers? I've fed 'em.'</p> +<p>'We're between two switches,' De Forest drawled. 'If we drop +them in any place that isn't under the Board the natives will make +their presence an excuse for cutting out, same as Illinois did, and +forcing the Board to take over. If we drop them in any place under +the Board's control they'll be killed as soon as our backs are +turned.'</p> +<p>'If you say so,' said Pirolo thoughtfully, 'I can guarantee that +they will become extinct in process of time, quite happily. What is +their birth-rate now?'</p> +<p>'Go down and ask 'em,' said De Forest.</p> +<p>'I think they might become nervous and tear me to bits,' the +philosopher of Foggia replied.</p> +<p>'Not really? Well?'</p> +<p>'Open the bilge-doors,' said Takahira with a downward jerk of +the thumb.</p> +<p>'Scarcely--after all the trouble we've taken to save 'em,' said +De Forest.</p> +<p>'Try London,' Arnott suggested. 'You could turn Satan himself +loose there, and they'd only ask him to dinner.'</p> +<p>'Good man! You've given me an idea. Vincent! Oh, Vincent!' He +threw the General Communicator open so that we could all hear, and +in a few minutes the chart-room filled with the rich, fruity voice +of Leopold Vincent, who has purveyed all London her choicest +amusements for the last thirty years. We answered with expectant +grins, as though we were actually in the stalls of, say, the +Combination on a first night.</p> +<p>'We've picked up something in your line,' De Forest began.</p> +<p>'That's good, dear man. If it's old enough. There's nothing to +beat the old things for business purposes. Have you seen <i>London, +Chatham, and Dover</i> at Earl's Court? No? I thought I missed you +there. Immense! I've had the real steam locomotive engines built +from the old designs and the iron rails cast specially by hand. +Cloth cushions in the carriages, too! Immense! And paper railway +tickets. And Polly Milton.'</p> +<p>'Polly Milton back again!' said Arnott rapturously. 'Book me two +stalls for to-morrow night. What's she singing now, bless her?'</p> +<p>'The old songs. Nothing comes up to the old touch. Listen to +this, dear men.' Vincent carolled with flourishes:</p> +<blockquote>Oh, cruel lamps of London,<br> +If tears your light could drown,<br> +Your victims' eyes would weep them,<br> +Oh, lights of London Town!</blockquote> +<p>'Then they weep.'</p> +<p>'You see?' Pirolo waved his hands at us. 'The old world always +weeped when it saw crowds together. It did not know why, but it +weeped. We know why, but we do not weep, except when we pay to be +made to by fat, wicked old Vincent.'</p> +<p>'Old, yourself!' Vincent laughed. 'I'm a public benefactor, I +keep the world soft and united.'</p> +<p>'And I'm De Forest of the Board,' said De Forest acidly, 'trying +to get a little business done. As I was saying, I've picked up a +few people in Chicago.'</p> +<p>'I cut out. Chicago is--'</p> +<p>'Do listen! They're perfectly unique.'</p> +<p>'Do they build houses of baked mudblocks while you wait--eh? +That's an old contact.'</p> +<p>'They're an untouched primitive community, with all the old +ideas.'</p> +<p>'Sewing-machines and maypole-dances? Cooking on coal-gas stoves, +lighting pipes with matches, and driving horses? Gerolstein tried +that last year. An absolute blow-out!'</p> +<p>De Forest plugged him wrathfully, and poured out the story of +our doings for the last twenty-four hours on the top-note.</p> +<p>'And they do it <i>all</i> in public,' he concluded. 'You can't +stop 'em. The more public, the better they are pleased. They'll +talk for hours--like you! Now you can come in again!'</p> +<p>'Do you really mean they know how to vote?' said Vincent. 'Can +they act it?'</p> +<p>'Act? It's their life to 'em! And you never saw such faces! +Scarred like volcanoes. Envy, hatred, and malice in plain sight. +Wonderfully flexible voices. They weep, too.'</p> +<p>'Aloud? In public?'</p> +<p>'I guarantee. Not a spark of shame or reticence in the entire +installation. It's the chance of your career.'</p> +<p>'D'you say you've brought their voting props along--those papers +and ballot-box things?'</p> +<p>'No, confound you! I'm not a luggage-lifter. Apply direct to the +Mayor of Chicago. He'll forward you everything. Well?'</p> +<p>'Wait a minute. Did Chicago want to kill 'em? That 'ud look well +on the Communicators.'</p> +<p>'Yes! They were only rescued with difficulty from a howling +mob--if you know what that is.'</p> +<p>'But I don't,' answered the Great Vincent simply.</p> +<p>'Well then, they'll tell you themselves. They can make speeches +hours long.'</p> +<p>'How many are there?'</p> +<p>'By the time we ship 'em all over they'll be perhaps a hundred, +counting children. An old world in miniature. Can't you see +it?'</p> +<p>'M-yes; but I've got to pay for it if it's a blow-out, dear +man.'</p> +<p>'They can sing the old war songs in the streets. They can get +word-drunk, and make crowds, and invade privacy in the genuine +old-fashioned way; and they'll do the voting trick as often as you +ask 'em a question.'</p> +<p>'Too good!' said Vincent.</p> +<p>'You unbelieving Jew! I've got a dozen head aboard here. I'll +put you through direct. Sample 'em yourself.'</p> +<p>He lifted the switch and we listened. Our passengers on the +lower deck at once, but not less than five at a time, explained +themselves to Vincent. They had been taken from the bosom of their +families, stripped of their possessions, given food without +finger-bowls, and cast into captivity in a noisome dungeon.</p> +<p>'But look here,' said Arnott aghast; 'they're saying what isn't +true. My lower deck isn't noisome, and I saw to the finger-bowls +myself.'</p> +<p>'My people talk like that sometimes in Little Russia,' said +Dragomiroff. 'We reason with them. We never kill. No!'</p> +<p>'But it's not true,' Arnott insisted. 'What can you do with +people who don't tell facts? They're mad!'</p> +<p>'Hsh!' said Pirolo, his hand to his ear. 'It is such a little +time since all the Planet told lies.'</p> +<p>We heard Vincent silkily sympathetic. Would they, he asked, +repeat their assertions in public--before a vast public? Only let +Vincent give them a chance, and the Planet, they vowed, should ring +with their wrongs. Their aim in life--two women and a man explained +it together--was to reform the world. Oddly enough, this also had +been Vincent's life-dream. He offered them an arena in which to +explain, and by their living example to raise the Planet to loftier +levels. He was eloquent on the moral uplift of a simple, old-world +life presented in its entirety to a deboshed civilisation.</p> +<p>Could they--would they--for three months certain, devote +themselves under his auspices, as missionaries, to the elevation of +mankind at a place called Earl's Court, which he said, with some +truth, was one of the intellectual centres of the Planet? They +thanked him, and demanded (we could hear his chuckle of delight) +time to discuss and to vote on the matter. The vote, solemnly +managed by counting heads--one head, one vote--was favourable. His +offer, therefore, was accepted, and they moved a vote of thanks to +him in two speeches--one by what they called the 'proposer' and the +other by the 'seconder.'</p> +<p>Vincent threw over to us, his voice shaking with gratitude:</p> +<p>'I've got 'em! Did you hear those speeches? That's Nature, dear +men. Art can't teach <i>that.</i> And they voted as easily as +lying. I've never had a troupe of natural liars before. Bless you, +dear men! Remember, you're on my free lists for ever, anywhere--all +of you. Oh, Gerolstein will be sick--sick!'</p> +<p>'Then you think they'll do?' said De Forest.</p> +<p>'Do? The Little Village'll go crazy! I'll knock up a series of +old-world plays for 'em. Their voices will make you laugh and cry. +My God, dear men, where <i>do</i> you suppose they picked up all +their misery from, on this sweet earth? I'll have a pageant of the +world's beginnings, and Mosenthal shall do the music. I'll--'</p> +<p>'Go and knock up a village for 'em by to-night. We'll meet you +at No. 15 West Landing Tower,' said De Forest. 'Remember the rest +will be coming along to-morrow.'</p> +<p>'Let 'em all come!' said Vincent. 'You don't know how hard it is +nowadays even for me, to find something that really gets under the +public's damned iridium-plated hide. But I've got it at last. +Good-bye!'</p> +<p>'Well,' said De Forest when we had finished laughing, 'if any +one understood corruption in London I might have played off Vincent +against Gerolstein, and sold my captives at enormous prices. As it +is, I shall have to be their legal adviser to-night when the +contracts are signed. And they won't exactly press any commission +on me, either.'</p> +<p>'Meantime,' said Takahira, 'we cannot, of course, confine +members of Leopold Vincent's last-engaged company. Chairs for the +ladies, please, Arnott.'</p> +<p>'Then I go to bed,' said De Forest. 'I can't face any more +women!' And he vanished.</p> +<p>When our passengers were released and given another meal +(finger-bowls came first this time) they told us what they thought +of us and the Board; and, like Vincent, we all marvelled how they +had contrived to extract and secrete so much bitter poison and +unrest out of the good life God gives us. They raged, they stormed, +they palpitated, flushed and exhausted their poor, torn nerves, +panted themselves into silence, and renewed the senseless, +shameless attacks.</p> +<p>'But can't you understand,' said Pirolo pathetically to a +shrieking woman, 'that if we'd left you in Chicago you'd have been +killed?'</p> +<p>'No, we shouldn't. You were bound to save us from being +murdered.'</p> +<p>'Then we should have had to kill a lot of other people.'</p> +<p>'That doesn't matter. We were preaching the Truth. You can't +stop us. We shall go on preaching in London; and <i>then</i> you'll +see!'</p> +<p>'You can see now,' said Pirolo, and opened a lower shutter.</p> +<p>We were closing on the Little Village, with her three million +people spread out at ease inside her ring of girdling Main-Traffic +lights--those eight fixed beams at Chatham, Tonbridge, Redhill, +Dorking, Woking, St. Albans, Chipping Ongar, and Southend.</p> +<p>Leopold Vincent's new company looked, with small pale faces, at +the silence, the size, and the separated houses.</p> +<p>Then some began to weep aloud, shamelessly--always without +shame.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page045"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"><b>MACDONOUGH'S SONG</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Whether the State can loose and bind</p> +<p class="i1">In Heaven as well as on Earth:</p> +<p>If it be wiser to kill mankind</p> +<p class="i1">Before or after the birth--</p> +<p>These are matters of high concern</p> +<p class="i1">Where State-kept schoolmen are;</p> +<p>But Holy State (we have lived to learn)</p> +<p class="i1">Endeth in Holy War.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Whether The People be led by the Lord,</p> +<p class="i1">Or lured by the loudest throat:</p> +<p>If it be quicker to die by the sword</p> +<p class="i1">Or cheaper to die by vote--</p> +<p>These are the things we have dealt with once,</p> +<p class="i1">(And they will not rise from their grave)</p> +<p>For Holy People, however it runs,</p> +<p class="i1">Endeth in wholly Slave.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Whatsoever, for any cause,</p> +<p class="i1">Seeketh to take or give,</p> +<p>Power above or beyond the Laws,</p> +<p class="i1">Suffer it not to live!</p> +<p>Holy State or Holy King--</p> +<p class="i1">Or Holy People's Will--</p> +<p>Have no truck with the senseless thing.</p> +<p class="i1">Order the guns and kill!</p> +<p class="i2"><i>Saying--after--me:--</i></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Once there was The People--Terror gave it birth;</i></p> +<p><i>Once there was The People and it made a Hell of +Earth.</i></p> +<p><i>Earth arose and crushed it. Listen, O ye slain!</i></p> +<p><i>Once there was The People--it shall never be again!</i></p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page047"></a> +<h2>Friendly Brook</h2> +<h3>(March 1914)</h3> +<br> +<p>The valley was so choked with fog that one could scarcely see a +cow's length across a field. Every blade, twig, bracken-frond, and +hoof-print carried water, and the air was filled with the noise of +rushing ditches and field-drains, all delivering to the brook +below. A week's November rain on water-logged land had gorged her +to full flood, and she proclaimed it aloud.</p> +<p>Two men in sackcloth aprons were considering an untrimmed hedge +that ran down the hillside and disappeared into mist beside those +roarings. They stood back and took stock of the neglected growth, +tapped an elbow of hedge-oak here, a mossed beech-stub there, +swayed a stooled ash back and forth, and looked at each other.</p> +<p>'I reckon she's about two rod thick,' said Jabez the younger, +'an' she hasn't felt iron since--when has she, Jesse?'</p> +<p>'Call it twenty-five year, Jabez, an' you won't be far out.'</p> +<p>'Umm!' Jabez rubbed his wet handbill on his wetter coat-sleeve. +'She ain't a hedge. She's all manner o' trees. We'll just about +have to--' He paused, as professional etiquette required.</p> +<p>'Just about have to side her up an' see what she'll bear. But +hadn't we best--?' Jesse paused in his turn, both men being artists +and equals.</p> +<p>'Get some kind o' line to go by.' Jabez ranged up and down till +he found a thinner place, and with clean snicks of the handbill +revealed the original face of the fence. Jesse took over the +dripping stuff as it fell forward, and, with a grasp and a kick, +made it to lie orderly on the bank till it should be faggoted.</p> +<p>By noon a length of unclean jungle had turned itself into a +cattle-proof barrier, tufted here and there with little plumes of +the sacred holly which no woodman touches without orders.</p> +<p>'Now we've a witness-board to go by!' said Jesse at last.</p> +<p>'She won't be as easy as this all along,' Jabez answered. +'She'll need plenty stakes and binders when we come to the +brook.'</p> +<p>'Well, ain't we plenty?' Jesse pointed to the ragged perspective +ahead of them that plunged downhill into the fog. 'I lay there's a +cord an' a half o' firewood, let alone faggots, 'fore we get +anywheres anigh the brook.'</p> +<p>'The brook's got up a piece since morning,' said Jabez. 'Sounds +like's if she was over Wickenden's door-stones.'</p> +<p>Jesse listened, too. There was a growl in the brook's roar as +though she worried something hard.</p> +<p>'Yes. She's over Wickenden's door-stones,' he replied. 'Now +she'll flood acrost Alder Bay an' that'll ease her.'</p> +<p>'She won't ease Jim Wickenden's hay none if she do,' Jabez +grunted. 'I told Jim he'd set that liddle hay-stack o' his too low +down in the medder. I <i>told</i> him so when he was drawin' the +bottom for it.'</p> +<p>'I told him so, too,' said Jesse. 'I told him 'fore ever you +did. I told him when the County Council tarred the roads up along.' +He pointed uphill, where unseen automobiles and road-engines droned +past continually. 'A tarred road, she shoots every drop o' water +into a valley same's a slate roof. 'Tisn't as 'twas in the old +days, when the waters soaked in and soaked out in the way o' +nature. It rooshes off they tarred roads all of a lump, and +naturally every drop is bound to descend into the valley. And +there's tar roads both two sides this valley for ten mile. That's +what I told Jim Wickenden when they tarred the roads last year. But +he's a valley-man. He don't hardly ever journey uphill.'</p> +<p>'What did he say when you told him that?' Jabez demanded, with a +little change of voice.</p> +<p>'Why? What did he say to you when <i>you</i> told him?' was the +answer.</p> +<p>'What he said to you, I reckon, Jesse.'</p> +<p>'Then, you don't need me to say it over again, Jabez.'</p> +<p>'Well, let be how 'twill, what was he gettin' <i>after</i> when +he said what he said to me?' Jabez insisted.</p> +<p>'I dunno; unless you tell me what manner o' words he said to +<i>you</i>.'</p> +<p>Jabez drew back from the hedge--all hedges are nests of +treachery and eavesdropping--and moved to an open cattle-lodge in +the centre of the field.</p> +<p>'No need to go ferretin' around,' said Jesse. 'None can't see us +here 'fore we see them.'</p> +<p>'What was Jim Wickenden gettin' at when I said he'd set his +stack too near anigh the brook?' Jabez dropped his voice. 'He was +in his mind.'</p> +<p>'He ain't never been out of it yet to my knowledge,' Jesse +drawled, and uncorked his tea-bottle.</p> +<p>'But then Jim says: "I ain't goin' to shift my stack a yard," he +says. "The Brook's been good friends to me, and if she be minded," +he says, "to take a snatch at my hay, I ain't settin' out to +withstand her." That's what Jim Wickenden says to me last--last +June-end 'twas,' said Jabez.</p> +<p>'Nor he hasn't shifted his stack, neither,' Jesse replied. 'An' +if there's more rain, the brook she'll shift it for him.'</p> +<p>'No need tell <i>me</i>! But I want to know what Jim was gettin' +<i>at</i>?'</p> +<p>Jabez opened his clasp-knife very deliberately; Jesse as +carefully opened his. They unfolded the newspapers that wrapped +their dinners, coiled away and pocketed the string that bound the +packages, and sat down on the edge of the lodge manger. The rain +began to fall again through the fog, and the brook's voice +rose.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>'But I always allowed Mary was his lawful child, like,' said +Jabez, after Jesse had spoken for a while.</p> +<p>''Tain't so.... Jim Wickenden's woman she never made nothing. +She come out o' Lewes with her stockin's round her heels, an' she +never made nor mended aught till she died. <i>He</i> had to light +fire an' get breakfast every mornin' except Sundays, while she +sowed it abed. Then she took an' died, sixteen, seventeen, year +back; but she never had no childern.'</p> +<p>'They was valley-folk,' said Jabez apologetically. 'I'd no call +to go in among 'em, but I always allowed Mary--'</p> +<p>'No. Mary come out o' one o' those Lunnon Childern Societies. +After his woman died, Jim got his mother back from his sister over +to Peasmarsh, which she'd gone to house with when Jim married. His +mother kept house for Jim after his woman died. They do say 'twas +his mother led him on toward adoptin' of Mary--to furnish out the +house with a child, like, and to keep him off of gettin' a noo +woman. He mostly done what his mother contrived. 'Cardenly, twixt +'em, they asked for a child from one o' those Lunnon +societies--same as it might ha' been these Barnardo children--an' +Mary was sent down to 'em, in a candle-box, I've heard.'</p> +<p>'Then Mary is chance-born. I never knowed that,' said Jabez. +'Yet I must ha' heard it some time or other ...'</p> +<p>'No. She ain't. 'Twould ha' been better for some folk if she had +been. She come to Jim in a candle-box with all the proper +papers--lawful child o' some couple in Lunnon somewheres--mother +dead, father drinkin'. <i>And</i> there was that Lunnon society's +five shillin's a week for her. Jim's mother she wouldn't despise +week-end money, but I never heard Jim was much of a muck-grubber. +Let be how 'twill, they two mothered up Mary no bounds, till it +looked at last like they'd forgot she wasn't their own flesh an' +blood. Yes, I reckon they forgot Mary wasn't their'n by +rights.'</p> +<p>'That's no new thing,' said Jabez. 'There's more'n one or two in +this parish wouldn't surrender back their Bernarders. You ask Mark +Copley an' his woman an' that Bernarder cripple-babe o' +theirs.'</p> +<p>'Maybe they need the five shillin',' Jesse suggested.</p> +<p>'It's handy,' said Jabez. 'But the child's more. "Dada" he says, +an' "Mumma" he says, with his great rollin' head-piece all hurdled +up in that iron collar. <i>He</i> won't live long--his backbone's +rotten, like. But they Copleys do just about set store by him--five +bob or no five bob.'</p> +<p>'Same way with Jim an' his mother,' Jesse went on. 'There was +talk betwixt 'em after a few years o' not takin' any more week-end +money for Mary; but let alone <i>she</i> never passed a farden in +the mire 'thout longin's, Jim didn't care, like, to push himself +forward into the Society's remembrance. So naun came of it. The +week-end money would ha' made no odds to Jim--not after his uncle +willed him they four cottages at Eastbourne <i>an'</i> money in the +bank.'</p> +<p>'That was true, too, then? I heard something in a scadderin' +word-o'-mouth way,' said Jabez.</p> +<p>'I'll answer for the house property, because Jim he requested my +signed name at the foot o' some papers concernin' it. Regardin' the +money in the bank, he nature-ally wouldn't like such things talked +about all round the parish, so he took strangers for +witnesses.'</p> +<p>'Then 'twill make Mary worth seekin' after?'</p> +<p>'She'll need it. Her Maker ain't done much for her outside nor +yet in.'</p> +<p>'That ain't no odds.' Jabez shook his head till the water +showered off his hat-brim. 'If Mary has money, she'll be wed before +any likely pore maid. She's cause to be grateful to Jim.'</p> +<p>'She hides it middlin' close, then,' said Jesse. 'It don't +sometimes look to me as if Mary has her natural rightful feelin's. +She don't put on an apron o' Mondays 'thout being druv to it--in +the kitchen <i>or</i> the hen-house. She's studyin' to be a +school-teacher. She'll make a beauty! I never knowed her show any +sort o' kindness to nobody--not even when Jim's mother was took +dumb. No! 'Twadn't no stroke. It stifled the old lady in the throat +here. First she couldn't shape her words no shape; then she +clucked, like, an' lastly she couldn't more than suck down +spoon-meat an' hold her peace. Jim took her to Doctor Harding, an' +Harding he bundled her off to Brighton Hospital on a ticket, but +they couldn't make no stay to her afflictions there; and she was +bundled off to Lunnon, an' they lit a great old lamp inside her, +and Jim told me they couldn't make out nothing in no sort there; +and, along o' one thing an' another, an' all their spyin's and +pryin's, she come back a hem sight worse than when she started. Jim +said he'd have no more hospitalizin', so he give her a slate, which +she tied to her waist-string, and what she was minded to say she +writ on it.'</p> +<p>'Now, I never knowed that! But they're valley-folk,' Jabez +repeated.</p> +<p>''Twadn't particular noticeable, for she wasn't a talkin' woman +any time o' her days. Mary had all three's tongue.... Well, then, +two years this summer, come what I'm tellin' you. Mary's Lunnon +father, which they'd put clean out o' their minds, arrived down +from Lunnon with the law on his side, sayin' he'd take his daughter +back to Lunnon, after all. I was working for Mus' Dockett at Pounds +Farm that summer, but I was obligin' Jim that evenin' muckin' out +his pig-pen. I seed a stranger come traipsin' over the bridge agin' +Wickenden's door-stones. 'Twadn't the new County Council bridge +with the handrail. They hadn't given it in for a public right o' +way then. 'Twas just a bit o' lathy old plank which Jim had throwed +acrost the brook for his own conveniences. The man wasn't +drunk--only a little concerned in liquor, like--an' his back was a +mask where he'd slipped in the muck comin' along. He went up the +bricks past Jim's mother, which was feedin' the ducks, an' set +himself down at the table inside--Jim was just changin' his +socks--an' the man let Jim know all his rights and aims regardin' +Mary. Then there just about <i>was</i> a hurly-bulloo? Jim's fust +mind was to pitch him forth, but he'd done that once in his young +days, and got six months up to Lewes jail along o' the man fallin' +on his head. So he swallowed his spittle an' let him talk. The law +about Mary <i>was</i> on the man's side from fust to last, for he +showed us all the papers. Then Mary come downstairs--she'd been +studyin' for an examination--an' the man tells her who he was, an' +she says he had ought to have took proper care of his own flesh and +blood while he had it by him, an' not to think he could ree-claim +it when it suited. He says somethin' or other, but she looks him up +an' down, front an' backwent, an' she just tongues him scadderin' +out o' doors, and he went away stuffin' all the papers back into +his hat, talkin' most abusefully. Then she come back an' freed her +mind against Jim an' his mother for not havin' warned her of her +upbringin's, which it come out she hadn't ever been told. They +didn't say naun to her. They never did. <i>I'd</i> ha' packed her +off with any man that would ha' took her--an' God's pity on +him!'</p> +<p>'Umm!' said Jabez, and sucked his pipe.</p> +<p>'So then, that was the beginnin.' The man come back again next +week or so, an' he catched Jim alone, 'thout his mother this time, +an' he fair beazled him with his papers an' his talk--for the law +<i>was</i> on his side--till Jim went down into his money-purse an' +give him ten shillings hush-money--he told me--to withdraw away for +a bit an' leave Mary with 'em.'</p> +<p>'But that's no way to get rid o' man or woman,' Jabez said.</p> +<p>'No more 'tis. I told Jim so. "What can I do?" Jim says. "The +law's <i>with</i> the man. I walk about daytimes thinkin' o' it +till I sweats my underclothes wringin', an' I lie abed nights +thinkin' o' it till I sweats my sheets all of a sop. 'Tisn't as if +I was a young man," he says, "nor yet as if I was a pore man. Maybe +he'll drink hisself to death." I e'en a'most told him outright what +foolishness he was enterin' into, but he knowed it--he knowed +it--because he said next time the man come 'twould be fifteen +shillin's. An' next time 'twas. Just fifteen shillin's!'</p> +<p>'An' <i>was</i> the man her father?' asked Jabez.</p> +<p>'He had the proofs an' the papers. Jim showed me what that +Lunnon Childern's Society had answered when Mary writ up to 'em an' +taxed 'em with it. I lay she hadn't been proper polite in her +letters to 'em, for they answered middlin' short. They said the +matter was out o' their hands, but--let's see if I remember--oh, +yes,--they ree-gretted there had been an oversight. I reckon they +had sent Mary out in the candle-box as a orphan instead o' havin' a +father. Terrible awkward! Then, when he'd drinked up the money, the +man come again--in his usuals--an' he kept hammerin' on and +hammerin' on about his duty to his pore dear wife, an' what he'd do +for his dear daughter in Lunnon, till the tears runned down his two +dirty cheeks an' he come away with more money. Jim used to slip it +into his hand behind the door; but his mother she heard the chink. +She didn't hold with hush-money. She'd write out all her feelin's +on the slate, an' Jim 'ud be settin' up half the night answerin' +back an' showing that the man had the law with him.'</p> +<p>'Hadn't that man no trade nor business, then?'</p> +<p>'He told me he was a printer. I reckon, though, he lived on the +rates like the rest of 'em up there in Lunnon.'</p> +<p>'An' how did Mary take it?'</p> +<p>'She said she'd sooner go into service than go with the man. I +reckon a mistress 'ud be middlin' put to it for a maid 'fore she +put Mary into cap an' gown. She was studyin' to be a +schoo-ool-teacher. A beauty she'll make!... Well, that was how +things went that fall. Mary's Lunnon father kep' comin' an' comin' +'carden as he'd drinked out the money Jim gave him; an' each time +he'd put-up his price for not takin' Mary away. Jim's mother, she +didn't like partin' with no money, an' bein' obliged to write her +feelin's on the slate instead o' givin' 'em vent by mouth, she was +just about mad. Just about she <i>was</i> mad!</p> +<p>'Come November, I lodged with Jim in the outside room over +'gainst his hen-house. I paid <i>her</i> my rent. I was workin' for +Dockett at Pounds--gettin' chestnut-bats out o' Perry Shaw. Just +such weather as this be--rain atop o' rain after a wet October. +(An' I remember it ended in dry frostes right away up to +Christmas.) Dockett he'd sent up to Perry Shaw for me--no, he comes +puffin' up to me himself--because a big corner-piece o' the bank +had slipped into the brook where she makes that elber at the bottom +o' the Seventeen Acre, an' all the rubbishy alders an' sallies +which he ought to have cut out when he took the farm, they'd +slipped with the slip, an' the brook was comin' rooshin' down atop +of 'em, an' they'd just about back an' spill the waters over his +winter wheat. The water was lyin' in the flats already. "Gor +a-mighty, Jesse!" he bellers out at me, "get that rubbish away all +manners you can. Don't stop for no fagottin', but give the brook +play or my wheat's past salvation. I can't lend you no help," he +says, "but work an' I'll pay ye."'</p> +<p>'You had him there,' Jabez chuckled.</p> +<p>'Yes. I reckon I had ought to have drove my bargain, but the +brook was backin' up on good bread-corn. So 'cardenly, I laid into +the mess of it, workin' off the bank where the trees was drownin' +themselves head-down in the roosh--just such weather as this--an' +the brook creepin' up on me all the time. 'Long toward noon, Jim +comes mowchin' along with his toppin' axe over his shoulder.</p> +<p>'"Be you minded for an extra hand at your job?" he says.</p> +<p>'"Be you minded to turn to?" I ses, an'--no more talk to it--Jim +laid in alongside o' me. He's no hunger with a toppin' axe.'</p> +<p>'Maybe, but I've seed him at a job o' throwin' in the woods, an' +he didn't seem to make out no shape,' said Jabez. 'He haven't got +the shoulders, nor yet the judgment--<i>my</i> opinion--when he's +dealin' with full-girt timber. He don't rightly make up his mind +where he's goin' to throw her.'</p> +<p>'We wasn't throwin' nothin'. We was cuttin' out they soft +alders, an' haulin' 'em up the bank 'fore they could back the +waters on the wheat. Jim didn't say much, 'less it was that he'd +had a postcard from Mary's Lunnon father, night before, sayin' he +was comin' down that mornin'. Jim, he'd sweated all night, an' he +didn't reckon hisself equal to the talkin' an' the swearin' an' the +cryin', an' his mother blamin' him afterwards on the slate. "It +spiled my day to think of it," he ses, when we was eatin' our +pieces. "So I've fair cried dunghill an' run. Mother'll have to +tackle him by herself. I lay <i>she</i> won't give him no +hush-money," he ses. "I lay he'll be surprised by the time he's +done with <i>her</i>," he ses. An' that was e'en a'most all the +talk we had concernin' it. But he's no hunger with the toppin' +axe.</p> +<p>'The brook she'd crep' up an' up on us, an' she kep' creepin' +upon us till we was workin' knee-deep in the shallers, cuttin' an' +pookin' an' pullin' what we could get to o' the rubbish. There was +a middlin' lot comin' down-stream, too--cattle-bars, an' hop-poles +and odds-ends bats, all poltin' down together; but they rooshed +round the elber good shape by the time we'd backed out they drowned +trees. Come four o'clock we reckoned we'd done a proper day's work, +an' she'd take no harm if we left her. We couldn't puddle about +there in the dark an' wet to no more advantage. Jim he was pourin' +the water out of his boots--no, I was doin' that. Jim was kneelin' +to unlace his'n. "Damn it all, Jesse," he ses, standin' up; "the +flood must be over my doorsteps at home, for here comes my old +white-top bee-skep!"'</p> +<p>'Yes. I allus heard he paints his bee-skeps,' Jabez put in. 'I +dunno paint don't tarrify bees more'n it keeps em' dry.'</p> +<p>'"I'll have a pook at it," he ses, an' he pooks at it as it +comes round the elber. The roosh nigh jerked the pooker out of his +hand-grips, an' he calls to me, an' I come runnin' barefoot. Then +we pulled on the pooker, an' it reared up on eend in the roosh, an' +we guessed what 'twas. 'Cardenly we pulled it in into a shaller, +an' it rolled a piece, an' a great old stiff man's arm nigh hit me +in the face. Then we was sure. "'Tis a man," ses Jim. But the face +was all a mask. "I reckon it's Mary's Lunnon father," he ses +presently. "Lend me a match and I'll make sure." He never used +baccy. We lit three matches one by another, well's we could in the +rain, an' he cleaned off some o' the slob with a tussick o' grass. +"Yes," he ses. "It's Mary's Lunnon father. He won't tarrify us no +more. D'you want him, Jesse?" he ses.</p> +<p>'"No," I ses. "If this was Eastbourne beach like, he'd be +half-a-crown apiece to us 'fore the coroner; but now we'd only lose +a day havin' to 'tend the inquest. I lay he fell into the +brook."</p> +<p>'"I lay he did," ses Jim. "I wonder if he saw mother." He turns +him over, an' opens his coat and puts his fingers in the waistcoat +pocket an' starts laughin'. "He's seen mother, right enough," he +ses. "An' he's got the best of her, too. <i>She</i> won't be able +to crow no more over <i>me</i> 'bout givin' him money. <i>I</i> +never give him more than a sovereign. She's give him two!" an' he +trousers 'em, laughin' all the time. "An' now we'll pook him back +again, for I've done with him," he ses.</p> +<p>'So we pooked him back into the middle of the brook, an' we saw +he went round the elber 'thout balkin', an' we walked quite a piece +beside of him to set him on his ways. When we couldn't see no more, +we went home by the high road, because we knowed the brook 'u'd be +out acrost the medders, an' we wasn't goin' to hunt for Jim's +little rotten old bridge in that dark--an' rainin' Heavens' hard, +too. I was middlin' pleased to see light an' vittles again when we +got home. Jim he pressed me to come insides for a drink. He don't +drink in a generality, but he was rid of all his troubles that +evenin', d'ye see? "Mother," he ses so soon as the door ope'd, +"have you seen him?" She whips out her slate an' writes down--"No." +"Oh, no," ses Jim. "You don't get out of it that way, mother. I lay +you <i>have</i> seen him, an' I lay he's bested you for all your +talk, same as he bested me. Make a clean breast of it, mother," he +ses. "He got round you too." She was goin' for the slate again, but +he stops her. "It's all right, mother," he ses. "I've seen him +sense you have, an' he won't trouble us no more." The old lady +looks up quick as a robin, an' she writes, "Did he say so?" "No," +ses Jim, laughin'. "He didn't say so. That's how I know. But he +bested <i>you</i>, mother. You can't have it in at <i>me</i> for +bein' soft-hearted. You're twice as tender-hearted as what I be. +Look!" he ses, an' he shows her the two sovereigns. "Put 'em away +where they belong," he ses. "He won't never come for no more; an' +now we'll have our drink," he ses, "for we've earned it."</p> +<p>'Nature-ally they weren't goin' to let me see where they kep' +their monies. She went upstairs with it--for the whisky.'</p> +<p>'I never knowed Jim was a drinkin' man--in his own house, like,' +said Jabez.</p> +<p>'No more he isn't; but what he takes he likes good. He won't +tech no publican's hogwash acrost the bar. Four shillin's he paid +for that bottle o' whisky. I know, because when the old lady +brought it down there wasn't more'n jest a liddle few dreenin's an' +dregs in it. Nothin' to set before neighbours, I do assure +you.'</p> +<p>'"Why, 'twas half full last week, mother," he ses. "You don't +mean," he ses, "you've given him all that as well? It's two +shillin's worth," he ses. (That's how I knowed he paid four.) +"Well, well, mother, you be too tender-'carted to live. But I don't +grudge it to him," he ses. "I don't grudge him nothin' he can +keep." So, 'cardenly, we drinked up what little sup was left.'</p> +<p>'An' what come to Mary's Lunnon father?' said Jabez after a full +minute's silence.</p> +<p>'I be too tired to go readin' papers of evenin's; but Dockett he +told me, that very week, I think, that they'd inquested on a man +down at Robertsbridge which had poked and poked up agin' so many +bridges an' banks, like, they couldn't make naun out of him.'</p> +<p>'An' what did Mary say to all these doin's?'</p> +<p>'The old lady bundled her off to the village 'fore her Lunnon +father come, to buy week-end stuff (an' she forgot the half o' it). +When we come in she was upstairs studyin' to be a school-teacher. +None told her naun about it. 'Twadn't girls' affairs.'</p> +<p>'Reckon <i>she</i> knowed?' Jabez went on.</p> +<p>'She? She must have guessed it middlin' close when she saw her +money come back. But she never mentioned it in writing so far's I +know. She were more worritted that night on account of two-three +her chickens bein' drowned, for the flood had skewed their old +hen-house round on her postes. I cobbled her up next mornin' when +the brook shrinked.'</p> +<p>'An' where did you find the bridge? Some fur down-stream, didn't +ye?'</p> +<p>'Just where she allus was. She hadn't shifted but very little. +The brook had gulled out the bank a piece under one eend o' the +plank, so's she was liable to tilt ye sideways if you wasn't +careful. But I pooked three-four bricks under her, an' she was all +plumb again.'</p> +<p>'Well, I dunno how it <i>looks</i> like, but let be how 'twill,' +said Jabez, 'he hadn't no business to come down from Lunnon +tarrifyin' people, an' threatenin' to take away children which +they'd hobbed up for their lawful own--even if 'twas Mary +Wickenden.'</p> +<p>'He had the business right enough, an' he had the law with +him--no gettin' over that,' said Jesse. 'But he had the drink with +him, too, an' that was where he failed, like.'</p> +<p>'Well, well! Let be how 'twill, the brook was a good friend to +Jim. I see it now. I allus <i>did</i> wonder what he was gettin' at +when he said that, when I talked to him about shiftin' the stack. +"You dunno everythin'," he ses. "The Brook's been a good friend to +me," he ses, "an' if she's minded to have a snatch at my hay, +<i>I</i> ain't settin' out to withstand her."'</p> +<p>'I reckon she's about shifted it, too, by now,' Jesse chuckled. +'Hark! That ain't any slip off the bank which she's got hold +of.'</p> +<p>The Brook had changed her note again. It sounded as though she +were mumbling something soft.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page065"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><b>THE LAND</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald,</p> +<p>In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-field,</p> +<p>He called to him Hobdenius--a Briton of the Clay,</p> +<p>Saying: 'What about that River-piece for layin' in to hay?'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And the aged Hobden answered: 'I remember as a lad</p> +<p>My father told your father that she wanted dreenin' bad.</p> +<p>An' the more that you neeglect her the less you'll get her +clean.</p> +<p>Have it jest <i>as</i> you've a mind to, but, if I was you, I'd +dreen.'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>So they drained it long and crossways in the lavish Roman +style.</p> +<p>Still we find among the river-drift their flakes of ancient +tile,</p> +<p>And in drouthy middle August, when the bones of meadows +show,</p> +<p>We can trace the lines they followed sixteen hundred years +ago.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Then Julius Fabricius died as even Prefects do,</p> +<p>And after certain centuries, Imperial Rome died too.</p> +<p>Then did robbers enter Britain from across the Northern main</p> +<p>And our Lower River-field was won by Ogier the Dane.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Well could Ogier work his war-boat--well could Ogier wield his +brand--</p> +<p>Much he knew of foaming waters--not so much of farming land.</p> +<p>So he called to him a Hobden of the old unaltered blood.</p> +<p>Saying: 'What about that River-bit, she doesn't look no +good?'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And that aged Hobden answered: ''Tain't for <i>me</i> to +interfere,</p> +<p>But I've known that bit o' meadow now for five and fifty +year.</p> +<p>Have it <i>jest</i> as you've a mind to, but I've proved it time +on time,</p> +<p>If you want to change her nature you have <i>got</i> to give her +lime!'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Ogier sent his wains to Lewes, twenty hours' solemn walk,</p> +<p>And drew back great abundance of the cool, grey, healing +chalk.</p> +<p>And old Hobden spread it broadcast, never heeding what was +in't;</p> +<p>Which is why in cleaning ditches, now and then we find a +flint.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Ogier died. His sons grew English. Anglo-Saxon was their +name,</p> +<p>Till out of blossomed Normandy another pirate came;</p> +<p>For Duke William conquered England and divided with his men,</p> +<p>And our Lower River-field he gave to William of Warenne.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But the Brook (you know her habit) rose one rainy Autumn +night</p> +<p>And tore down sodden flitches of the bank to left and right.</p> +<p>So, said William to his Bailiff as they rode their dripping +rounds:</p> +<p>'Hob, what about that River-bit--the Brook's got up no +bounds?'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And that aged Hobden answered: ''Tain't my business to +advise,</p> +<p>But ye might ha' known 'twould happen from the way the valley +lies.</p> +<p>When ye can't hold back the water you must try and save the +sile.</p> +<p>Hev it jest as you've a <i>mind</i> to, but, if I was you, I'd +spile!'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>They spiled along the water-course with trunks of +willow-trees</p> +<p>And planks of elms behind 'em and immortal oaken knees.</p> +<p>And when the spates of Autumn whirl the gravel-beds away</p> +<p>You can see their faithful fragments iron-hard in iron clay.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 25%;"></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Georgii Quinti Anno Sexto</i>, I, who own the +River-field,</p> +<p>Am fortified with title-deeds, attested, signed and sealed,</p> +<p>Guaranteeing me, my assigns, my executors and heirs</p> +<p>All sorts of powers and profits which--are neither mine nor +theirs.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I have rights of chase and warren, as my dignity requires.</p> +<p>I can fish--but Hobden tickles. I can shoot--but Hobden +wires.</p> +<p>I repair, but he reopens, certain gaps which, men allege,</p> +<p>Have been used by every Hobden since a Hobden swapped a +hedge.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Shall I dog his morning progress o'er the track-betraying +dew?</p> +<p>Demand his dinner-basket into which my pheasant flew?</p> +<p>Confiscate his evening faggot into which the conies ran,</p> +<p>And summons him to judgment? I would sooner summons Pan.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>His dead are in the churchyard--thirty generations laid.</p> +<p>Their names went down in Domesday Book when Domesday Book was +made.</p> +<p>And the passion and the piety and prowess of his line</p> +<p>Have seeded, rooted, fruited in some land the Law calls +mine.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Not for any beast that burrows, not for any bird that flies,</p> +<p>Would I lose his large sound council, miss his keen amending +eyes.</p> +<p>He is bailiff, woodman, wheelwright, field-surveyor, +engineer,</p> +<p>And if flagrantly a poacher--'tain't for me to interfere.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Hob, what about that River-bit?' I turn to him again</p> +<p>With Fabricius and Ogier and William of Warenne.</p> +<p>'Hev it jest as you've a mind to, <i>but</i>'--and so he takes +command.</p> +<p>For whoever pays the taxes old Mus' Hobden owns the land.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page071"></a> +<h2>In the Same Boat</h2> +<h3>(1911)</h3> +<br> +<p>'A throbbing vein,' said Dr. Gilbert soothingly, 'is the mother +of delusion.'</p> +<p>'Then how do you account for my knowing when the thing is due?' +Conroy's voice rose almost to a break.</p> +<p>'Of course, but you should have consulted a doctor before +using--palliatives.'</p> +<p>'It was driving me mad. And now I can't give them up.'</p> +<p>''Not so bad as that! One doesn't form fatal habits at +twenty-five. Think again. Were you ever frightened as a child?'</p> +<p>'I don't remember. It began when I was a boy.'</p> +<p>'With or without the spasm? By the way, do you mind describing +the spasm again?'</p> +<p>'Well,' said Conroy, twisting in the chair, 'I'm no musician, +but suppose you were a violin-string--vibrating--and some one put +his finger on you? As if a finger were put on the naked soul! +Awful!'</p> +<p>'So's indigestion--so's nightmare--while it lasts.'</p> +<p>'But the horror afterwards knocks me out for days. And the +waiting for it ... and then this drug habit! It can't go on!' He +shook as he spoke, and the chair creaked.</p> +<p>'My dear fellow,' said the doctor, 'when you're older you'll +know what burdens the best of us carry. A fox to every +Spartan.'</p> +<p>'That doesn't help <i>me</i>. I can't! I can't!' cried Conroy, +and burst into tears.</p> +<p>'Don't apologise,' said Gilbert, when the paroxysm ended. 'I'm +used to people coming a little--unstuck in this room.'</p> +<p>'It's those tabloids!' Conroy stamped his foot feebly as he blew +his nose. 'They've knocked me out. I used to be fit once. Oh, I've +tried exercise and everything. But--if one sits down for a minute +when it's due--even at four in the morning--it runs up behind +one.'</p> +<p>'Ye-es. Many things come in the quiet of the morning. You always +know when the visitation is due?'</p> +<p>'What would I give not to be sure!' he sobbed.</p> +<p>'We'll put that aside for the moment. I'm thinking of a case +where what we'll call anæmia of the brain was masked (I don't +say cured) by vibration. He couldn't sleep, or thought he couldn't, +but a steamer voyage and the thump of the screw--'</p> +<p>'A steamer? After what I've told you!' Conroy almost shrieked. +'I'd sooner ...'</p> +<p>'Of course <i>not</i> a steamer in your case, but a long railway +journey the next time you think it will trouble you. It sounds +absurd, but--'</p> +<p>'I'd try anything. I nearly have,' Conroy sighed.</p> +<p>'Nonsense! I've given you a tonic that will clear <i>that</i> +notion from your head. Give the train a chance, and don't begin the +journey by bucking yourself up with tabloids. Take them along, but +hold them in reserve--in reserve.'</p> +<p>'D'you think I've self-control enough, after what you've heard?' +said Conroy.</p> +<p>Dr. Gilbert smiled. 'Yes. After what I've seen,' he glanced +round the room, 'I have no hesitation in saying you have quite as +much self-control as many other people. I'll write you later about +your journey. Meantime, the tonic,' and he gave some general +directions before Conroy left.</p> +<p>An hour later Dr. Gilbert hurried to the links, where the others +of his regular week-end game awaited him. It was a rigid round, +played as usual at the trot, for the tension of the week lay as +heavy on the two King's Counsels and Sir John Chartres as on +Gilbert. The lawyers were old enemies of the Admiralty Court, and +Sir John of the frosty eyebrows and Abernethy manner was bracketed +with, but before, Rutherford Gilbert among nerve-specialists.</p> +<p>At the Club-house afterwards the lawyers renewed their squabble +over a tangled collision case, and the doctors as naturally +compared professional matters.</p> +<p>'Lies--all lies,' said Sir John, when Gilbert had told him +Conroy's trouble. '<i>Post hoc, propter hoc</i>. The man or woman +who drugs is <i>ipso facto</i> a liar. You've no imagination.'</p> +<p>''Pity you haven't a little--occasionally.'</p> +<p>'I have believed a certain type of patient in my time. It's +always the same. For reasons not given in the consulting-room they +take to the drug. Certain symptoms follow. They will swear to you, +and believe it, that they took the drug to mask the symptoms. What +does your man use? Najdolene? I thought so. I had practically the +duplicate of your case last Thursday. Same old Najdolene--same old +lie.'</p> +<p>'Tell me the symptoms, and I'll draw my own inferences, +Johnnie.'</p> +<p>'Symptoms! The girl was rank poisoned with Najdolene. Ramping, +stamping possession. Gad, I thought she'd have the chandelier +down.'</p> +<p>'Mine came unstuck too, and he has the physique of a bull,' said +Gilbert. 'What delusions had yours?'</p> +<p>'Faces--faces with mildew on them. In any other walk of life +we'd call it the Horrors. She told me, of course, she took the +drugs to mask the faces. <i>Post hoc, propter hoc</i> again. All +liars!'</p> +<p>'What's that?' said the senior K.C. quickly. 'Sounds +professional.'</p> +<p>'Go away! Not for you, Sandy.' Sir John turned a shoulder +against him and walked with Gilbert in the chill evening.</p> +<p>To Conroy in his chambers came, one week later, this letter:</p> +<blockquote>DEAR MR. CONROY--If your plan of a night's trip on the +17th still holds good, and you have no particular destination in +view, you could do me a kindness. A Miss Henschil, in whom I am +interested, goes down to the West by the 10.8 from Waterloo (Number +3 platform) on that night. She is not exactly an invalid, but, like +so many of us, a little shaken in her nerves. Her maid, of course, +accompanies her, but if I knew you were in the same train it would +be an additional source of strength. Will you please write and let +me know whether the 10.8 from Waterloo, Number 3 platform, on the +17th, suits you, and I will meet you there? Don't forget my +caution, and keep up the tonic.--Yours sincerely,</blockquote> +<p class="loc">L. RUTHERFORD GILBERT.</p> +<br> +<p>'He knows I'm scarcely fit to look after myself,' was Conroy's +thought. 'And he wants me to look after a woman!'</p> +<p>Yet, at the end of half an hour's irresolution, he accepted.</p> +<p>Now Conroy's trouble, which had lasted for years, was this:</p> +<p>On a certain night, while he lay between sleep and wake, he +would be overtaken by a long shuddering sigh, which he learned to +know was the sign that his brain had once more conceived its +horror, and in time--in due time--would bring it forth.</p> +<p>Drugs could so well veil that horror that it shuffled along no +worse than as a freezing dream in a procession of disorderly +dreams; but over the return of the event drugs had no control. Once +that sigh had passed his lips the thing was inevitable, and through +the days granted before its rebirth he walked in torment. For the +first two years he had striven to fend it off by distractions, but +neither exercise nor drink availed. Then he had come to the +tabloids of the excellent M. Najdol. These guarantee, on the label, +'Refreshing and absolutely natural sleep to the soul-weary.' They +are carried in a case with a spring which presses one scented +tabloid to the end of the tube, whence it can be lipped off in +stroking the moustache or adjusting the veil.</p> +<p>Three years of M. Najdol's preparations do not fit a man for +many careers. His friends, who knew he did not drink, assumed that +Conroy had strained his heart through valiant outdoor exercises, +and Conroy had with some care invented an imaginary doctor, +symptoms, and regimen, which he discussed with them and with his +mother in Hereford. She maintained that he would grow out of it, +and recommended nux vomica.</p> +<p>When at last Conroy faced a real doctor, it was, he hoped, to be +saved from suicide by a strait-waistcoat. Yet Dr. Gilbert had but +given him more drugs--a tonic, for instance, that would couple +railway carnages--and had advised a night in the train. Not alone +the horrors of a railway journey (for which a man who dare keep no +servant must e'en pack, label, and address his own bag), but the +necessity for holding himself in hand before a stranger 'a little +shaken in her nerves.'</p> +<p>He spent a long forenoon packing, because when he assembled and +counted things his mind slid off to the hours that remained of the +day before his night, and he found himself counting minutes aloud. +At such times the injustice of his fate would drive him to revolts +which no servant should witness, but on this evening Dr. Gilbert's +tonic held him fairly calm while he put up his patent razors.</p> +<p>Waterloo Station shook him into real life. The change for his +ticket needed concentration, if only to prevent shillings and pence +turning into minutes at the booking-office; and he spoke quickly to +a porter about the disposition of his bag. The old 10.8 from +Waterloo to the West was an all-night caravan that halted, in the +interests of the milk traffic, at almost every station.</p> +<p>Dr. Gilbert stood by the door of the one composite +corridor-coach; an older and stouter man behind him. 'So glad +you're here!' he cried. 'Let me get your ticket.'</p> +<p>'Certainly not,' Conroy answered. 'I got it myself--long ago. My +bag's in too,' he added proudly.</p> +<p>'I beg your pardon. Miss Henschil's here. I'll introduce +you.'</p> +<p>'But--but,' he stammered--'think of the state I'm in. If +anything happens I shall collapse.'</p> +<p>'Not you. You'd rise to the occasion like a bird. And as for the +self-control you were talking of the other day'--Gilbert swung him +round--'look!'</p> +<p>A young man in an ulster over a silk-faced frock-coat stood by +the carriage window, weeping shamelessly.</p> +<p>'Oh, but that's only drink,' Conroy said. 'I haven't had one of +my--my things since lunch.'</p> +<p>'Excellent!' said Gilbert. 'I knew I could depend on you. Come +along. Wait for a minute, Chartres.'</p> +<p>A tall woman, veiled, sat by the far window. She bowed her head +as the doctor murmured Conroy knew not what. Then he disappeared +and the inspector came for tickets.</p> +<p>'My maid--next compartment,' she said slowly.</p> +<p>Conroy showed his ticket, but in returning it to the +sleeve-pocket of his ulster the little silver Najdolene case +slipped from his glove and fell to the floor. He snatched it up as +the moving train flung him into his seat.</p> +<p>'How nice!' said the woman. She leisurely lifted her veil, +unbottoned the first button of her left glove, and pressed out from +its palm a Najdolene-case.</p> +<p>'Don't!' said Conroy, not realising he had spoken.</p> +<p>'I beg your pardon.' The deep voice was measured, even, and low. +Conroy knew what made it so.</p> +<p>'I said "don't"! He wouldn't like you to do it!'</p> +<p>'No, he would not.' She held the tube with its ever-presented +tabloid between finger and thumb. 'But aren't you one of +the--ah--"soul-weary" too?'</p> +<p>'That's why. Oh, please don't! Not at first. I--I haven't had +one since morning. You--you'll set me off!'</p> +<p>'You? Are you so far gone as that?'</p> +<p>He nodded, pressing his palms together. The train jolted through +Vauxhall points, and was welcomed with the clang of empty milk-cans +for the West.</p> +<p>After long silence she lifted her great eyes, and, with an +innocence that would have deceived any sound man, asked Conroy to +call her maid to bring her a forgotten book.</p> +<p>Conroy shook his head. 'No. Our sort can't read. Don't!'</p> +<p>'Were you sent to watch me?' The voice never changed.</p> +<p>'Me? I need a keeper myself much more--<i>this</i> night of +all!'</p> +<p>'This night? Have you a night, then? They disbelieved <i>me</i> +when I told them of mine.' She leaned back and laughed, always +slowly. 'Aren't doctors stu-upid? They don't know.'</p> +<p>She leaned her elbow on her knee, lifted her veil that had +fallen, and, chin in hand, stared at him. He looked at her--till +his eyes were blurred with tears.</p> +<p>'Have I been there, think you?' she said.</p> +<p>'Surely--surely,' Conroy answered, for he had well seen the fear +and the horror that lived behind the heavy-lidded eyes, the fine +tracing on the broad forehead, and the guard set about the +desirable mouth.</p> +<p>'Then--suppose we have one--just one apiece? I've gone without +since this afternoon.'</p> +<p>He put up his hand, and would have shouted, but his voice +broke.</p> +<p>'Don't! Can't you see that it helps me to help you to keep it +off? Don't let's both go down together.'</p> +<p>'But I want one. It's a poor heart that never rejoices. Just +one. It's my night.'</p> +<p>'It's mine--too. My sixty-fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh.' He +shut his lips firmly against the tide of visualised numbers that +threatened to carry him along.</p> +<p>'Ah, it's only my thirty-ninth.' She paused as he had done. 'I +wonder if I shall last into the sixties.... Talk to me or I shall +go crazy. You're a man. You're the stronger vessel. Tell me when +you went to pieces.'</p> +<p>'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven--eight--I beg your +pardon.'</p> +<p>'Not in the least. I always pretend I've dropped a stitch of my +knitting. I count the days till the last day, then the hours, then +the minutes. Do you?'</p> +<p>'I don't think I've done very much else for the last--' said +Conroy, shivering, for the night was cold, with a chill he +recognised.</p> +<p>'Oh, how comforting to find some one who can talk sense! It's +not always the same date, is it?'</p> +<p>'What difference would that make?' He unbuttoned his ulster with +a jerk. 'You're a sane woman. Can't you see the +wicked--wicked--wicked' (dust flew from the padded arm-rest as he +struck it) unfairness of it? What have I done?'</p> +<p>She laid her large hand on his shoulder very firmly.</p> +<p>'If you begin to think over that,' she said, 'you'll go to +pieces and be ashamed. Tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine. Only +be quiet--be quiet, lad, or you'll set me off!' She made shift to +soothe him, though her chin trembled.</p> +<p>'Well,' said he at last, picking at the arm-rest between them, +'mine's nothing much, of course.'</p> +<p>'Don't be a fool! That's for doctors--and mothers.'</p> +<p>'It's Hell,' Conroy muttered. 'It begins on a steamer--on a +stifling hot night. I come out of my cabin. I pass through the +saloon where the stewards have rolled up the carpets, and the +boards are bare and hot and soapy.'</p> +<p>'I've travelled too,' she said.</p> +<p>'Ah! I come on deck. I walk down a covered alleyway. Butcher's +meat, bananas, oil, that sort of smell.'</p> +<p>Again she nodded.</p> +<p>'It's a lead-coloured steamer, and the sea's lead-coloured. +Perfectly smooth sea--perfectly still ship, except for the engines +running, and her waves going off in lines and lines and lines--dull +grey. All this time I know something's going to happen.'</p> +<p>'I know. Something going to happen,' she whispered.</p> +<p>'Then I hear a thud in the engine-room. Then the noise of +machinery falling down--like fire-irons--and then two most awful +yells. They're more like hoots, and I know--I know while I +listen--that it means that two men have died as they hooted. It was +their last breath hooting out of them--in most awful pain. Do you +understand?'</p> +<p>'I ought to. Go on.'</p> +<p>'That's the first part. Then I hear bare feet running along the +alleyway. One of the scalded men comes up behind me and says quite +distinctly, "My friend! All is lost!" Then he taps me on the +shoulder and I hear him drop down dead.' He panted and wiped his +forehead.</p> +<p>'So that is your night?' she said.</p> +<p>'That is my night. It comes every few weeks--so many days after +I get what I call sentence. Then I begin to count.'</p> +<p>'Get sentence? D'you mean <i>this</i>?' She half closed her +eyes, drew a deep breath, and shuddered. '"Notice" I call it. Sir +John thought it was all lies.'</p> +<p>She had unpinned her hat and thrown it on the seat opposite, +showing the immense mass of her black hair, rolled low in the nape +of the columnar neck and looped over the left ear. But Conroy had +no eyes except for her grave eyes.</p> +<p>'Listen now!' said she. 'I walk down a road, a white sandy road +near the sea. There are broken fences on either side, and Men come +and look at me over them.'</p> +<p>'Just men? Do they speak?'</p> +<p>'They try to. Their faces are all mildewy--eaten away,' and she +hid her face for an instant with her left hand. 'It's the +Faces--the Faces!'</p> +<p>'Yes. Like my two hoots. I know.'</p> +<p>'Ah! But the place itself--the bareness--and the glitter and the +salt smells, and the wind blowing the sand! The Men run after me +and I run.... I know what's coming too. One of them touches +me.'</p> +<p>'Yes! What comes then? We've both shirked that.'</p> +<p>'One awful shock--not palpitation, but shock, shock, shock!'</p> +<p>'As though your soul were being stopped--as you'd stop a +finger-bowl humming?' he said.</p> +<p>'Just that,' she answered. 'One's very soul--the soul that one +lives by--stopped. So!'</p> +<p>She drove her thumb deep into the arm-rest. 'And now,' she +whined to him, 'now that we've stirred each other up this way, +mightn't we have just one?'</p> +<p>'No,' said Conroy, shaking. 'Let's hold on. We're past'--he +peered out of the black windows--'Woking. There's the Necropolis. +How long till dawn?'</p> +<p>'Oh, cruel long yet. If one dozes for a minute, it catches +one.'</p> +<p>'And how d'you find that this'--he tapped the palm of his +glove--'helps you?'</p> +<p>'It covers up the thing from being too real--if one takes +enough--you know. Only--only--one loses everything else. I've been +no more than a bogie-girl for two years. What would you give to be +real again? This lying's such a nuisance.'</p> +<p>'One must protect oneself--and there's one's mother to think +of,' he answered.</p> +<p>'True. I hope allowances are made for us somewhere. Our +burden--can you hear?--our burden is heavy enough.'</p> +<p>She rose, towering into the roof of the carriage. Conroy's +ungentle grip pulled her back.</p> +<p>'Now <i>you</i> are foolish. Sit down,' said he.</p> +<p>'But the cruelty of it! Can't you see it? Don't you feel it? +Let's take one now--before I--'</p> +<p>'Sit down!' cried Conroy, and the sweat stood again on his +forehead. He had fought through a few nights, and had been defeated +on more, and he knew the rebellion that flares beyond control to +exhaustion.</p> +<p>She smoothed her hair and dropped back, but for a while her head +and throat moved with the sickening motion of a captured +wry-neck.</p> +<p>'Once,' she said, spreading out her hands, 'I ripped my +counterpane from end to end. That takes strength. I had it then. +I've little now. "All dorn," as my little niece says. And you, +lad?'</p> +<p>'"All dorn"! Let me keep your case for you till the +morning.'</p> +<p>'But the cold feeling is beginning.'</p> +<p>'Lend it me, then.'</p> +<p>'And the drag down my right side. I shan't be able to move in a +minute.'</p> +<p>'I can scarcely lift my arm myself,' said Conroy. 'We're in for +it.'</p> +<p>'Then why are you so foolish? You know it'll be easier if we +have only one--only one apiece.'</p> +<p>She was lifting the case to her mouth. With tremendous effort +Conroy caught it. The two moved like jointed dolls, and when their +hands met it was as wood on wood.</p> +<p>'You must--not!' said Conroy. His jaws stiffened, and the cold +climbed from his feet up.</p> +<p>'Why--must--I--not?' She repeated the words idiotically.</p> +<p>Conroy could only shake his head, while he bore down on the hand +and the case in it.</p> +<p>Her speech went from her altogether. The wonderful lips rested +half over the even teeth, the breath was in the nostrils only, the +eyes dulled, the face set grey, and through the glove the hand +struck like ice.</p> +<p>Presently her soul came back and stood behind her eyes--only +thing that had life in all that place--stood and looked for +Conroy's soul. He too was fettered in every limb, but somewhere at +an immense distance he heard his heart going about its work as the +engine-room carries on through and beneath the all but overwhelming +wave. His one hope, he knew, was not to lose the eyes that clung to +his, because there was an Evil abroad which would possess him if he +looked aside by a hair-breadth.</p> +<p>The rest was darkness through which some distant planet spun +while cymbals clashed. (Beyond Farnborough the 10.8 rolls out many +empty milk-cans at every halt.) Then a body came to life with +intolerable pricklings. Limb by limb, after agonies of terror, that +body returned to him, steeped in most perfect physical weariness +such as follows a long day's rowing. He saw the heavy lids droop +over her eyes--the watcher behind them departed--and, his soul +sinking into assured peace, Conroy slept.</p> +<p>Light on his eyes and a salt breath roused him without shock. +Her hand still held his. She slept, forehead down upon it, but the +movement of his waking waked her too, and she sneezed like a +child.</p> +<p>'I--I think it's morning,' said Conroy.</p> +<p>'And nothing has happened! Did you see your Men? I didn't see my +Faces. Does it mean we've escaped? Did--did you take any after I +went to sleep? I'll swear I didn't,' she stammered.</p> +<p>'No, there wasn't any need. We've slept through it.'</p> +<p>'No need! Thank God! There was no need! Oh, look!'</p> +<p>The train was running under red cliffs along a sea-wall washed +by waves that were colourless in the early light. Southward the sun +rose mistily upon the Channel.</p> +<p>She leaned out of the window and breathed to the bottom of her +lungs, while the wind wrenched down her dishevelled hair and blew +it below her waist.</p> +<p>'Well!' she said with splendid eyes. 'Aren't you still waiting +for something to happen?'</p> +<p>'No. Not till next time. We've been let off,' Conroy answered, +breathing as deeply as she.</p> +<p>'Then we ought to say our prayers.'</p> +<p>'What nonsense! Some one will see us.'</p> +<p>'We needn't kneel. Stand up and say "Our Father." We +<i>must</i>!'</p> +<p>It was the first time since childhood that Conroy had prayed. +They laughed hysterically when a curve threw them against an +arm-rest.</p> +<p>'Now for breakfast!' she cried. 'My maid--Nurse Blaber--has the +basket and things. It'll be ready in twenty minutes. Oh! Look at my +hair!' and she went out laughing.</p> +<p>Conroy's first discovery, made without fumbling or counting +letters on taps, was that the London and South Western's allowance +of washing-water is inadequate. He used every drop, rioting in the +cold tingle on neck and arms. To shave in a moving train balked +him, but the next halt gave him a chance, which, to his own +surprise, he took. As he stared at himself in the mirror he smiled +and nodded. There were points about this person with the clear, if +sunken, eye and the almost uncompressed mouth. But when he bore his +bag back to his compartment, the weight of it on a limp arm humbled +that new pride.</p> +<p>'My friend,' he said, half aloud, 'you go into training. You're +putty.'</p> +<p>She met him in the spare compartment, where her maid had laid +breakfast.</p> +<p>'By Jove!' he said, halting at the doorway, 'I hadn't realised +how beautiful you were!'</p> +<p>'The same to you, lad. Sit down. I could eat a horse.'</p> +<p>'I shouldn't,' said the maid quietly. 'The less you eat the +better.' She was a small, freckled woman, with light fluffy hair +and pale-blue eyes that looked through all veils.</p> +<p>'This is Miss Blaber,' said Miss Henschil. 'He's one of the +soul-weary too, Nursey.'</p> +<p>'I know it. But when one has just given it up a full meal +doesn't agree. That's why I've only brought you bread and +butter.'</p> +<p>She went out quietly, and Conroy reddened.</p> +<p>'We're still children, you see,' said Miss Henschil. 'But I'm +well enough to feel some shame of it. D'you take sugar?'</p> +<p>They starved together heroically, and Nurse Blaber was good +enough to signify approval when she came to clear away.</p> +<p>'Nursey?' Miss Henschil insinuated, and flushed.</p> +<p>'Do you smoke?' said the nurse coolly to Conroy.</p> +<p>'I haven't in years. Now you mention it, I think I'd like a +cigarette--or something.'</p> +<p>'I used to. D'you think it would keep me quiet?' Miss Henschil +said.</p> +<p>'Perhaps. Try these.' The nurse handed them her +cigarette-case.</p> +<p>'Don't take anything else,' she commanded, and went away with +the tea-basket.</p> +<p>'Good!' grunted Conroy, between mouthfuls of tobacco.</p> +<p>'Better than nothing,' said Miss Henschil; but for a while they +felt ashamed, yet with the comfort of children punished +together.</p> +<p>'Now,' she whispered, 'who were you when you were a man?'</p> +<p>Conroy told her, and in return she gave him her history. It +delighted them both to deal once more in worldly +concerns--families, names, places, and dates--with a person of +understanding.</p> +<p>She came, she said, of Lancashire folk--wealthy cotton-spinners, +who still kept the broadened <i>a</i> and slurred aspirate of the +old stock. She lived with an old masterful mother in an opulent +world north of Lancaster Gate, where people in Society gave parties +at a Mecca called the Langham Hotel.</p> +<p>She herself had been launched into Society there, and the +flowers at the ball had cost eighty-seven pounds; but, being +reckoned peculiar, she had made few friends among her own sex. She +had attracted many men, for she was a beauty--<i>the</i> beauty, in +fact, of Society, she said.</p> +<p>She spoke utterly without shame or reticence, as a life-prisoner +tells his past to a fellow-prisoner; and Conroy nodded across the +smoke-rings.</p> +<p>'Do you remember when you got into the carriage?' she asked. +'(Oh, I wish I had some knitting!) Did you notice aught, lad?'</p> +<p>Conroy thought back. It was ages since. 'Wasn't there some one +outside the door--crying?' he asked.</p> +<p>'He's--he's the little man I was engaged to,' she said. 'But I +made him break it off. I told him 'twas no good. But he won't, yo' +see.'</p> +<p>'<i>That</i> fellow? Why, he doesn't come up to your +shoulder.'</p> +<p>'That's naught to do with it. I think all the world of him. I'm +a foolish wench'--her speech wandered as she settled herself +cosily, one elbow on the arm-rest. 'We'd been engaged--I couldn't +help that--and he worships the ground I tread on. But it's no use. +I'm not responsible, you see. His two sisters are against it, +though I've the money. They're right, but they think it's the +dri-ink,' she drawled. 'They're Methody--the Skinners. You see, +their grandfather that started the Patton Mills, he died o' the +dri-ink.'</p> +<p>'I see,' said Conroy. The grave face before him under the lifted +veil was troubled.</p> +<p>'George Skinner.' She breathed it softly. 'I'd make him a good +wife, by God's gra-ace--if I could. But it's no use. I'm not +responsible. But he'll not take "No" for an answer. I used to call +him "Toots." He's of no consequence, yo' see.'</p> +<p>'That's in Dickens,' said Conroy, quite quickly. 'I haven't +thought of Toots for years. He was at Doctor Blimber's.'</p> +<p>'And so--that's my trouble,' she concluded, ever so slightly +wringing her hands. 'But I--don't you think--there's hope now?'</p> +<p>'Eh?' said Conroy. 'Oh yes! This is the first time I've turned +my corner without help. With your help, I should say.'</p> +<p>'It'll come back, though.'</p> +<p>'Then shall we meet it in the same way? Here's my card. Write me +your train, and we'll go together.'</p> +<p>'Yes. We must do that. But between times--when we want--' She +looked at her palm, the four fingers working on it. 'It's hard to +give 'em up.'</p> +<p>'But think what we have gained already, and let me have the case +to keep.'</p> +<p>She shook her head, and threw her cigarette out of the window. +'Not yet.'</p> +<p>'Then let's lend our cases to Nurse, and we'll get through +to-day on cigarettes. I'll call her while we feel strong.'</p> +<p>She hesitated, but yielded at last, and Nurse accepted the +offerings with a smile.</p> +<p>'<i>You'll</i> be all right,' she said to Miss Henschil. 'But if +I were you'--to Conroy--'I'd take strong exercise.'</p> +<p>When they reached their destination Conroy set himself to obey +Nurse Blaber. He had no remembrance of that day, except one streak +of blue sea to his left, gorse-bushes to his right, and, before +him, a coast-guard's track marked with white-washed stones that he +counted up to the far thousands. As he returned to the little town +he saw Miss Henschil on the beach below the cliffs. She kneeled at +Nurse Blaber's feet, weeping and pleading.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Twenty-five days later a telegram came to Conroy's rooms: +'<i>Notice given. Waterloo again. Twenty-fourth.'</i> That same +evening he was wakened by the shudder and the sigh that told him +his sentence had gone forth. Yet he reflected on his pillow that he +had, in spite of lapses, snatched something like three weeks of +life, which included several rides on a horse before breakfast--the +hour one most craves Najdolene; five consecutive evenings on the +river at Hammersmith in a tub where he had well stretched the white +arms that passing crews mocked at; a game of rackets at his club; +three dinners, one small dance, and one human flirtation with a +human woman. More notable still, he had settled his month's +accounts, only once confusing petty cash with the days of grace +allowed him. Next morning he rode his hired beast in the park +victoriously. He saw Miss Henschil on horse-back near Lancaster +Gate, talking to a young man at the railings.</p> +<p>She wheeled and cantered toward him.</p> +<p>'By Jove! How well you look!' he cried, without salutation. 'I +didn't know you rode.'</p> +<p>'I used to once,' she replied. 'I'm all soft now.'</p> +<p>They swept off together down the ride.</p> +<p>'Your beast pulls,' he said.</p> +<p>'Wa-ant him to. Gi-gives me something to think of. How've you +been?' she panted. 'I wish chemists' shops hadn't red lights.'</p> +<p>'Have you slipped out and bought some, then?'</p> +<p>'You don't know Nursey. Eh, but it's good to be on a horse +again! This chap cost me two hundred.'</p> +<p>'Then you've been swindled,' said Conroy.</p> +<p>'I know it, but it's no odds. I must go back to Toots and send +him away. He's neglecting his work for me.'</p> +<p>She swung her heavy-topped animal on his none too sound hocks. +''Sentence come, lad?'</p> +<p>'Yes. But I'm not minding it so much this time.'</p> +<p>'Waterloo, then--and God help us!' She thundered back to the +little frock-coated figure that waited faithfully near the +gate.</p> +<p>Conroy felt the spring sun on his shoulders and trotted home. +That evening he went out with a man in a pair oar, and was rowed to +a standstill. But the other man owned he could not have kept the +pace five minutes longer.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>He carried his bag all down Number 3 platform at Waterloo, and +hove it with one hand into the rack.</p> +<p>'Well done!' said Nurse Blaber, in the corridor. 'We've improved +too.'</p> +<p>Dr. Gilbert and an older man came out of the next +compartment.</p> +<p>'Hallo!' said Gilbert. 'Why haven't you been to see me, Mr. +Conroy? Come under the lamp. Take off your hat. No--no. Sit, you +young giant. Ve-ry good. Look here a minute, Johnnie.'</p> +<p>A little, round-bellied, hawk-faced person glared at him.</p> +<p>'Gilbert was right about the beauty of the beast,' he muttered. +'D'you keep it in your glove now?' he went on, and punched Conroy +in the short ribs.</p> +<p>'No,' said Conroy meekly, but without coughing. 'Nowhere--on my +honour! I've chucked it for good.'</p> +<p>'Wait till you are a sound man before you say <i>that</i>, Mr. +Conroy.' Sir John Chartres stumped out, saying to Gilbert in the +corridor, 'It's all very fine, but the question is shall I or we +"Sir Pandarus of Troy become," eh? We're bound to think of the +children.'</p> +<p>'Have you been vetted?' said Miss Henschil, a few minutes after +the train started. 'May I sit with you? I--I don't trust myself +yet. I can't give up as easily as you can, seemingly.'</p> +<p>'Can't you? I never saw any one so improved in a month.'</p> +<p>'Look here!' She reached across to the rack, single-handed +lifted Conroy's bag, and held it at arm's length. 'I counted ten +slowly. And I didn't think of hours or minutes,' she boasted.</p> +<p>'Don't remind me,' he cried.</p> +<p>'Ah! Now I've reminded myself. I wish I hadn't. Do you think +it'll be easier for us to-night?'</p> +<p>'Oh, don't.' The smell of the carriage had brought back all his +last trip to him, and Conroy moved uneasily.</p> +<p>'I'm sorry. I've brought some games,' she went on. 'Draughts and +cards--but they all mean counting. I wish I'd brought chess, but I +can't play chess. What can we do? Talk about something.'</p> +<p>'Well, how's Toots, to begin with?' said Conroy.</p> +<p>'Why? Did you see him on the platform?'</p> +<p>'No. Was he there? I didn't notice.'</p> +<p>'Oh yes. He doesn't understand. He's desperately jealous. I told +him it doesn't matter. Will you please let me hold your hand? I +believe I'm beginning to get the chill.'</p> +<p>'Toots ought to envy me,' said Conroy.</p> +<p>'He does. He paid you a high compliment the other night. He's +taken to calling again--in spite of all they say.'</p> +<p>Conroy inclined his head. He felt cold, and knew surely he would +be colder.</p> +<p>'He said,' she yawned. '(Beg your pardon.) He said he couldn't +see how I could help falling in love with a man like you; and he +called himself a damned little rat, and he beat his head on the +piano last night.'</p> +<p>'The piano? You play, then?'</p> +<p>'Only to him. He thinks the world of my accomplishments. Then I +told him I wouldn't have you if you were the last man on earth +instead of only the best-looking--not with a million in each +stocking.'</p> +<p>'No, not with a million in each stocking,' said Conroy +vehemently. 'Isn't that odd?'</p> +<p>'I suppose so--to any one who doesn't know. Well, where was I? +Oh, George as good as told me I was deceiving him, and he wanted to +go away without saying good-night. He hates standing a-tiptoe, but +he must if I won't sit down.'</p> +<p>Conroy would have smiled, but the chill that foreran the coming +of the Lier-in-Wait was upon him, and his hand closed warningly on +hers.</p> +<p>'And--and so--' she was trying to say, when her hour also +overtook her, leaving alive only the fear-dilated eyes that turned +to Conroy. Hand froze on hand and the body with it as they waited +for the horror in the blackness that heralded it. Yet through the +worst Conroy saw, at an uncountable distance, one minute glint of +light in his night. Thither would he go and escape his fear; and +behold, that light was the light in the watch-tower of her eyes, +where her locked soul signalled to his soul: 'Look at me!'</p> +<p>In time, from him and from her, the Thing sheered aside, that +each soul might step down and resume its own concerns. He thought +confusedly of people on the skirts of a thunderstorm, withdrawing +from windows where the torn night is, to their known and furnished +beds. Then he dozed, till in some drowsy turn his hand fell from +her warmed hand.</p> +<p>'That's all. The Faces haven't come,' he heard her say. +'All--thank God! I don't feel even I need what Nursey promised me. +Do you?'</p> +<p>'No.' He rubbed his eyes. 'But don't make too sure.'</p> +<p>'Certainly not. We shall have to try again next month. I'm +afraid it will be an awful nuisance for you.'</p> +<p>'Not to me, I assure you,' said Conroy, and they leaned back and +laughed at the flatness of the words, after the hells through which +they had just risen.</p> +<p>'And now,' she said, strict eyes on Conroy, '<i>why</i> wouldn't +you take me--not with a million in each stocking?'</p> +<p>'I don't know. That's what I've been puzzling over.'</p> +<p>'So have I. We're as handsome a couple as I've ever seen. Are +you well off, lad?'</p> +<p>'They call me so,' said Conroy, smiling.</p> +<p>'That's North country.' She laughed again. Setting aside my good +looks and yours, I've four thousand a year of my own, and the rents +should make it six. That's a match some old cats would lap tea all +night to fettle up.'</p> +<p>'It is. Lucky Toots!' said Conroy.</p> +<p>'Ay,' she answered, 'he'll be the luckiest lad in London if I +win through. Who's yours?'</p> +<p>'No--no one, dear. I've been in Hell for years. I only want to +get out and be alive and--so on. Isn't that reason enough?'</p> +<p>'Maybe, for a man. But I never minded things much till George +came. I was all stu-upid like.'</p> +<p>'So was I, but now I think I can live. It ought to be less next +month, oughtn't it?' he said.</p> +<p>'I hope so. Ye-es. There's nothing much for a maid except to be +married, and I ask no more. Whoever yours is, when you've found +her, she shall have a wedding present from Mrs. George Skinner +that--'</p> +<p>'But she wouldn't understand it any more than Toots.'</p> +<p>'He doesn't matter--except to me. I can't keep my eyes open, +thank God! Good-night, lad.'</p> +<p>Conroy followed her with his eyes. Beauty there was, grace there +was, strength, and enough of the rest to drive better men than +George Skinner to beat their heads on piano-tops--but for the +new-found life of him Conroy could not feel one flutter of instinct +or emotion that turned to herward. He put up his feet and fell +asleep, dreaming of a joyous, normal world recovered--with interest +on arrears. There were many things in it, but no one face of any +one woman.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Thrice afterward they took the same train, and each time their +trouble shrank and weakened. Miss Henschil talked of Toots, his +multiplied calls, the things he had said to his sisters, the much +worse things his sisters had replied; of the late (he seemed very +dead to them) M. Najdol's gifts for the soul-weary; of shopping, of +house rents, and the cost of really artistic furniture and +linen.</p> +<p>Conroy explained the exercises in which he delighted--mighty +labours of play undertaken against other mighty men, till he +sweated and, having bathed, slept. He had visited his mother, too, +in Hereford, and he talked something of her and of the home-life, +which his body, cut out of all clean life for five years, +innocently and deeply enjoyed. Nurse Blaber was a little interested +in Conroy's mother, but, as a rule, she smoked her cigarette and +read her paper-backed novels in her own compartment.</p> +<p>On their last trip she volunteered to sit with them, and buried +herself in <i>The Cloister and the Hearth</i> while they whispered +together. On that occasion (it was near Salisbury) at two in the +morning, when the Lier-in-Wait brushed them with his wing, it meant +no more than that they should cease talk for the instant, and for +the instant hold hands, as even utter strangers on the deep may do +when their ship rolls underfoot.</p> +<p>'But still,' said Nurse Blaber, not looking up, 'I think your +Mr. Skinner might feel jealous of all this.'</p> +<p>'It would be difficult to explain,' said Conroy.</p> +<p>'Then you'd better not be at my wedding,' Miss Henschil +laughed.</p> +<p>'After all we've gone through, too. But I suppose you ought to +leave me out. Is the day fixed?' he cried.</p> +<p>'Twenty-second of September--in spite of both his sisters. I can +risk it now.' Her face was glorious as she flushed.</p> +<p>'My dear chap!' He shook hands unreservedly, and she gave back +his grip without flinching. 'I can't tell you how pleased I +am!'</p> +<p>'Gracious Heavens!' said Nurse Blaber, in a new voice. 'Oh, I +beg your pardon. I forgot I wasn't paid to be surprised.'</p> +<p>'What at? Oh, I see!' Miss Henschil explained to Conroy. 'She +expected you were going to kiss me, or I was going to kiss you, or +something.'</p> +<p>'After all you've gone through, as Mr. Conroy said,'</p> +<p>'But I couldn't, could you?' said Miss Henschil, with a disgust +as frank as that on Conroy's face. 'It would be horrible--horrible. +And yet, of course, you're wonderfully handsome. How d'you account +for it, Nursey?'</p> +<p>Nurse Blaber shook her head. 'I was hired to cure you of a +habit, dear. When you're cured I shall go on to the next case--that +senile-decay one at Bourne-mouth I told you about.'</p> +<p>'And I shall be left alone with George! But suppose it isn't +cured,' said Miss Henschil of a sudden. Suppose it comes back +again. What can I do? I can't send for <i>him</i> in this way when +I'm a married woman!' She pointed like an infant.</p> +<p>'I'd come, of course,' Conroy answered. 'But, seriously, that is +a consideration.'</p> +<p>They looked at each other, alarmed and anxious, and then toward +Nurse Blaber, who closed her book, marked the place, and turned to +face them.</p> +<p>'Have you ever talked to your mother as you have to me?' she +said.</p> +<p>'No. I might have spoken to dad--but mother's different. What +d'you mean?'</p> +<p>'And you've never talked to your mother either, Mr. Conroy?'</p> +<p>'Not till I took Najdolene. Then I told her it was my heart. +There's no need to say anything, now that I'm practically over it, +is there?'</p> +<p>'Not if it doesn't come back, but--' She beckoned with a stumpy, +triumphant linger that drew their heads close together. 'You know I +always go in and read a chapter to mother at tea, child.'</p> +<p>'I know you do. You're an angel,' Miss Henschil patted the blue +shoulder next her. 'Mother's Church of England now,' she explained. +'But she'll have her Bible with her pikelets at tea every night +like the Skinners.'</p> +<p>'It was Naaman and Gehazi last Tuesday that gave me a clue. I +said I'd never seen a case of leprosy, and your mother said she'd +seen too many.'</p> +<p>'Where? She never told me,' Miss Henschil began.</p> +<p>'A few months before you were born--on her trip to Australia--at +Mola or Molo something or other. It took me three evenings to get +it all out.'</p> +<p>'Ay--mother's suspicious of questions,' said Miss Henschil to +Conroy. 'She'll lock the door of every room she's in, if it's but +for five minutes. She was a Tackberry from Jarrow way, yo' +see.'</p> +<p>'She described your men to the life--men with faces all eaten +away, staring at her over the fence of a lepers' hospital in this +Molo Island. They begged from her, and she ran, she told me, all +down the street, back to the pier. One touched her and she nearly +fainted. She's ashamed of that still.'</p> +<p>'My men? The sand and the fences?' Miss Henschil muttered.</p> +<p>'Yes. You know how tidy she is and how she hates wind. She +remembered that the fences were broken--she remembered the wind +blowing. Sand--sun--salt wind--fences--faces--I got it all out of +her, bit by bit. You don't know what I know! And it all happened +three or four months before you were born. There!' Nurse Blaber +slapped her knee with her little hand triumphantly.</p> +<p>'Would that account for it?' Miss Henschil shook from head to +foot.</p> +<p>'Absolutely. I don't care who you ask! You never imagined the +thing. It was <i>laid</i> on you. It happened on earth to +<i>you</i>! Quick, Mr. Conroy, she's too heavy for me! I'll get the +flask.'</p> +<p>Miss Henschil leaned forward and collapsed, as Conroy told her +afterwards, like a factory chimney. She came out of her swoon with +teeth that chattered on the cup.</p> +<p>'No--no,' she said, gulping. 'It's not hysterics. Yo' see I've +no call to hev 'em any more. No call--no reason whatever. God be +praised! Can't yo' <i>feel</i> I'm a right woman now?'</p> +<p>'Stop hugging me!' said Nurse Blaber. 'You don't know your +strength. Finish the brandy and water. It's perfectly reasonable, +and I'll lay long odds Mr. Conroy's case is something of the same. +I've been thinking--'</p> +<p>'I wonder--' said Conroy, and pushed the girl back as she swayed +again.</p> +<p>Nurse Blaber smoothed her pale hair. 'Yes. Your trouble, or +something like it, happened somewhere on earth or sea to the mother +who bore you. Ask her, child. Ask her and be done with it once for +all.'</p> +<p>'I will,' said Conroy.... 'There ought to be--' He opened his +bag and hunted breathlessly.</p> +<p>'Bless you! Oh, God bless you, Nursey!' Miss Henschil was +sobbing. 'You don't know what this means to me. It takes it all +off--from the beginning.'</p> +<p>'But doesn't it make any difference to you now?' the nurse asked +curiously. 'Now that you're rightfully a woman?'</p> +<p>Conroy, busy with his bag, had not heard. Miss Henschil stared +across, and her beauty, freed from the shadow of any fear, blazed +up within her. 'I see what you mean,' she said. 'But it hasn't +changed anything. I want Toots. <i>He</i> has never been out of his +mind in his life--except over silly me.'</p> +<p>'It's all right,' said Conroy, stooping under the lamp, Bradshaw +in hand. 'If I change at Templecombe--for Bristol +(Bristol--Hereford--yes)--I can be with mother for breakfast in her +room and find out.'</p> +<p>'Quick, then,' said Nurse Blaber. 'We've passed Gillingham quite +a while. You'd better take some of our sandwiches.' She went out to +get them. Conroy and Miss Henschil would have danced, but there is +no room for giants in a South-Western compartment.</p> +<p>'Good-bye, good luck, lad. Eh, but you've changed already--like +me. Send a wire to our hotel as soon as you're sure,' said Miss +Henschil. 'What should I have done without you?'</p> +<p>'Or I?' said Conroy. 'But it's Nurse that's saving us +really.'</p> +<p>'Then thank her,' said Miss Henschil, looking straight at him. +'Yes, I would. She'd like it.'</p> +<p>When Nurse Blaber came back after the parting at Templecombe her +nose and her eyelids were red, but, for all that, her face +reflected a great light even while she sniffed over <i>The Cloister +and the Hearth</i>.</p> +<p>Miss Henschil, deep in a house furnisher's catalogue, did not +speak for twenty minutes. Then she said, between adding totals of +best, guest, and servants' sheets, 'But why should our times have +been the same, Nursey?'</p> +<p>'Because a child is born somewhere every second of the clock,' +Nurse Blaber answered. 'And besides that, you probably set each +other off by talking and thinking about it. You shouldn't, you +know.'</p> +<p>'Ay, but you've never been in Hell,' said Miss Henschil.</p> +<p>The telegram handed in at Hereford at 12.46 and delivered to +Miss Henschil on the beach of a certain village at 2.7 ran +thus:</p> +<p>'"<i>Absolutely confirmed. She says she remembers hearing noise +of accident in engine-room returning from India +eighty-five.</i>"'</p> +<p>'He means the year, not the thermometer,' said Nurse Blaber, +throwing pebbles at the cold sea.</p> +<p>'"<i>And two men scalded thus explaining my hoots.</i>" (The +idea of telling me that!) "<i>Subsequently silly clergyman +passenger ran up behind her calling for joke, 'Friend, all is +lost,' thus accounting very words.</i>"'</p> +<p>Nurse Blaber purred audibly.</p> +<p>'"<i>She says only remembers being upset minute or two. +Unspeakable relief. Best love Nursey, who is jewel. Get out of her +what she would like best.</i>" Oh, I oughtn't to have read that,' +said Miss Henschil.</p> +<p>'It doesn't matter. I don't want anything,' said Nurse Blaber, +'and if I did I shouldn't get it.'</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page104"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>'HELEN ALL ALONE'</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">There was darkness under Heaven</p> +<p class="i8">For an hour's space--</p> +<p class="i7">Darkness that we knew was given</p> +<p class="i8">Us for special grace.</p> +<p class="i7">Sun and moon and stars were hid,</p> +<p class="i8">God had left His Throne,</p> +<p class="i7">When Helen came to me, she did,</p> +<p class="i8">Helen all alone!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Side by side (because our fate</p> +<p class="i8">Damned us ere our birth)</p> +<p class="i7">We stole out of Limbo Gate</p> +<p class="i8">Looking for the Earth.</p> +<p class="i7">Hand in pulling hand amid</p> +<p class="i8">Fear no dreams have known,</p> +<p class="i7">Helen ran with me, she did,</p> +<p class="i8">Helen all alone!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">When the Horror passing speech</p> +<p class="i8">Hunted us along,</p> +<p class="i7">Each laid hold on each, and each</p> +<p class="i8">Found the other strong.</p> +<p class="i7">In the teeth of things forbid</p> +<p class="i8">And Reason overthrown,</p> +<p class="i7">Helen stood by me, she did,</p> +<p class="i8">Helen all alone!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">When, at last, we heard the Fires</p> +<p class="i8">Dull and die away,</p> +<p class="i7">When, at last, our linked desires</p> +<p class="i8">Dragged us up to day,</p> +<p class="i7">When, at last, our souls were rid</p> +<p class="i8">Of what that Night had shown,</p> +<p class="i7">Helen passed from me, she did,</p> +<p class="i8">Helen all alone!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Let her go and find a mate,</p> +<p class="i8">As I will find a bride,</p> +<p class="i7">Knowing naught of Limbo Gate</p> +<p class="i8">Or Who are penned inside.</p> +<p class="i7">There is knowledge God forbid</p> +<p class="i8">More than one should own.</p> +<p class="i7">So Helen went from me, she did,</p> +<p class="i7">Oh my soul, be glad she did!</p> +<p class="i8">Helen all alone!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page107"></a> +<h2>The Honours of War</h2> +<h3>(1911)</h3> +<br> +<p>A hooded motor had followed mine from the Guildford Road up the +drive to The Infant's ancestral hall, and had turned off to the +stables.</p> +<p>'We're having a quiet evening together. Stalky's upstairs +changing. Dinner's at 7.15 sharp, because we're hungry. His room's +next to yours,' said The Infant, nursing a cobwebbed bottle of +Burgundy.</p> +<p>Then I found Lieutenant-Colonel A.L. Corkran, I.A., who borrowed +a collar-stud and told me about the East and his Sikh regiment.</p> +<p>'And are your subalterns as good as ever?' I asked.</p> +<p>'Amazin'--simply amazin'! All I've got to do is to find 'em +jobs. They keep touchin' their caps to me and askin' for more work. +'Come at me with their tongues hangin' out. <i>I</i> used to run +the other way at their age.'</p> +<p>'And when they err?' said I. 'I suppose they do sometimes?'</p> +<p>'Then they run to me again to weep with remorse over their +virgin peccadilloes. I never cuddled my Colonel when I was in +trouble. Lambs--positive lambs!'</p> +<p>'And what do you say to 'em?'</p> +<p>'Talk to 'em like a papa. Tell 'em how I can't understand it, +an' how shocked I am, and how grieved their parents'll be; and +throw in a little about the Army Regulations and the Ten +Commandments. 'Makes one feel rather a sweep when one thinks of +what one used to do at their age. D'you remember--'</p> +<p>We remembered together till close on seven o'clock. As we went +out into the gallery that runs round the big hall, we saw The +Infant, below, talking to two deferential well-set-up lads whom I +had known, on and off, in the holidays, any time for the last ten +years. One of them had a bruised cheek, and the other a weeping +left eye.</p> +<p>'Yes, that's the style,' said Stalky below his breath. 'They're +brought up on lemon-squash and mobilisation text-books. I say, the +girls we knew must have been much better than they pretended they +were; for I'll swear it isn't the fathers.'</p> +<p>'But why on earth did you do it?' The Infant was shouting. 'You +know what it means nowadays.'</p> +<p>'Well, sir,' said Bobby Trivett, the taller of the two, 'Wontner +talks too much, for one thing. He didn't join till he was +twenty-three, and, besides that, he used to lecture on tactics in +the ante-room. He said Clausewitz was the only tactician, and he +illustrated his theories with cigar-ends. He was that sort of chap, +sir.'</p> +<p>'And he didn't much care whose cigar-ends they were,' said +Eames, who was shorter and pinker.</p> +<p>'And then he <i>would</i> talk about the 'Varsity,' said Bobby. +'He got a degree there. And he told us we weren't intellectual. He +told the Adjutant so, sir. He was just that kind of chap, sir, if +you understand.'</p> +<p>Stalky and I backed behind a tall Japanese jar of chrysanthemums +and listened more intently.</p> +<p>'Was all the Mess in it, or only you two?' The Infant demanded, +chewing his moustache.</p> +<p>'The Adjutant went to bed, of course, sir, and the Senior +Subaltern said he wasn't going to risk his commission--they're +awfully down on ragging nowadays in the Service--but the rest of +us--er--attended to him,' said Bobby.</p> +<p>'Much?' The Infant asked. The boys smiled deprecatingly.</p> +<p>'Not in the ante-room, sir,' said Eames. 'Then he called us +silly children, and went to bed, and we sat up discussin', and I +suppose we got a bit above ourselves, and we--er--'</p> +<p>'Went to his quarters and drew him?' The Infant suggested.</p> +<p>'Well, we only asked him to get out of bed, and we put his +helmet and sword-belt on for him, and we sung him bits out of the +Blue Fairy Book--the cram-book on Army organisation. Oh yes, and +then we asked him to drink old Clausewitz's health, as a +brother-tactician, in milk-punch and Worcester sauce, and so on. We +had to help him a little there. He bites. There wasn't much else +that time; but, you know, the War Office is severe on ragging these +days.' Bobby stopped with a lopsided smile.</p> +<p>'And then,' Eames went on, 'then Wontner said we'd done several +pounds' worth of damage to his furniture.'</p> +<p>'Oh,' said The Infant, 'he's that kind of man, is he? Does he +brush his teeth?'</p> +<p>'Oh yes, he's quite clean all over!' said Trivett; 'but his +father's a wealthy barrister.'</p> +<p>'Solicitor,' Eames corrected, 'and so this Mister Wontner is out +for our blood. He's going to make a first-class row about +it--appeal to the War Office--court of inquiry--spicy bits in the +papers, and songs in the music-halls. He told us so.'</p> +<p>'That's the sort of chap he is,' said Trivett. 'And that means +old Dhurrah-bags, our Colonel, 'll be put on half-pay, same as that +case in the Scarifungers' Mess; and our Adjutant'll have to +exchange, like it was with that fellow in the 73rd Dragoons, and +there'll be misery all round. He means making it too hot for us, +and his papa'll back him.'</p> +<p>'Yes, that's all very fine,' said The Infant; 'but I left the +Service about the time you were born, Bobby. What's it got to do +with me?'</p> +<p>'Father told me I was always to go to you when I was in trouble, +and you've been awfully good to me since he ...'</p> +<p>'Better stay to dinner.' The Infant mopped his forehead.</p> +<p>'Thank you very much, but the fact is--' Trivett halted.</p> +<p>'This afternoon, about four, to be exact--' Eames broke in.</p> +<p>'We went over to Wontner's quarters to talk things over. The row +only happened last night, and we found him writing letters as hard +as he could to his father--getting up his case for the War Office, +you know. He read us some of 'em, but I'm not a good judge of +style. We tried to ride him off quietly--apologies and so +forth--but it was the milk-punch and mayonnaise that defeated +us.'</p> +<p>'Yes, he wasn't taking anything except pure revenge,' said +Eames.</p> +<p>'He said he'd make an example of the regiment, and he was +particularly glad that he'd landed our Colonel. He told us so. Old +Dhurrah-bags don't sympathise with Wontner's tactical lectures. He +says Wontner ought to learn manners first, but we thought--' +Trivett turned to Eames, who was less a son of the house than +himself, Eames's father being still alive.</p> +<p>'Then,' Eames went on, 'he became rather noisome, and we thought +we might as well impound the correspondence'--he wrinkled his +swelled left eye--'and after that, we got him to take a seat in my +car.'</p> +<p>'He was in a sack, you know,' Trivett explained. 'He wouldn't go +any other way. But we didn't hurt him.'</p> +<p>'Oh no! His head's sticking out quite clear, and'--Eames rushed +the fence--'we've put him in your garage--er <i>pendente +lite</i>.'</p> +<p>'My garage!' Infant's voice nearly broke with horror.</p> +<p>'Well, father always told me if I was in trouble, Uncle +George--'</p> +<p>Bobby's sentence died away as The Infant collapsed on a divan +and said no more than, 'Your commissions!' There was a long, long +silence.</p> +<p>'What price your latter-day lime-juice subaltern?' I whispered +to Stalky behind my hand. His nostrils expanded, and he drummed on +the edge of the Japanese jar with his knuckles.</p> +<p>'Confound your father, Bobby!' The Infant groaned. 'Raggin's a +criminal offence these days. It isn't as if--'</p> +<p>'Come on,' said Stalky. 'That was my old Line battalion in +Egypt. They nearly slung old Dhurrah-bags and me out of the Service +in '85 for ragging.' He descended the stairs and The Infant rolled +appealing eyes at him.</p> +<p>'I heard what you youngsters have confessed,' he began; and in +his orderly-room voice, which is almost as musical as his singing +one, he tongue-lashed those lads in such sort as was a privilege +and a revelation to listen to. Till then they had known him almost +as a relative--we were all brevet, deputy, or acting uncles to The +Infant's friends' brood--a sympathetic elder brother, sound on +finance. They had never met Colonel A.L. Corkran in the Chair of +Justice. And while he flayed and rent and blistered, and wiped the +floor with them, and while they looked for hiding-places and found +none on that floor, I remembered (1) the up-ending of 'Dolly' +Macshane at Dalhousie, which came perilously near a court-martial +on Second-Lieutenant Corkran; (2) the burning of Captain Parmilee's +mosquito-curtains on a hot Indian dawn, when the captain slept in +his garden, and Lieutenant Corkran, smoking, rode by after a +successful whist night at the club; (3) the introduction of an ekka +pony, with ekka attached, into a brother captain's tent on a frosty +night in Peshawur, and the removal of tent, pole, cot, and captain +all wrapped in chilly canvas; (4) the bath that was given to +Elliot-Hacker on his own verandah--his lady-love saw it and broke +off the engagement, which was what the Mess intended, she being an +Eurasian--and the powdering all over of Elliot-Hacker with flour +and turmeric from the bazaar.</p> +<p>When he took breath I realised how only Satan can rebuke sin. +The good don't know enough.</p> +<p>'Now,' said Stalky, 'get out! No, not out of the house. Go to +your rooms.'</p> +<p>'I'll send your dinner, Bobby,' said The Infant. 'Ipps!'</p> +<p>Nothing had ever been known to astonish Ipps, the butler. He +entered and withdrew with his charges. After all, he had suffered +from Bobby since Bobby's twelfth year.</p> +<p>'They've done everything they could, short of murder,' said The +Infant. 'You know what this'll mean for the regiment. It isn't as +if we were dealing with Sahibs nowadays.'</p> +<p>'Quite so.' Stalky turned on me. 'Go and release the bagman,' he +said.</p> +<p>''Tisn't my garage,' I pleaded. 'I'm company. Besides, he'll +probably slay me. He's been in the sack for hours.'</p> +<p>'Look here,' Stalky thundered--the years had fallen from us +both--'is your--am I commandin' or are you? We've got to pull this +thing off somehow or other. Cut over to the garage, make much of +him, and bring him over. He's dining with us. Be quick, you +dithering ass!'</p> +<p>I was quick enough; but as I ran through the shrubbery I +wondered how one extricates the subaltern of the present day from a +sack without hurting his feelings. Anciently, one slit the end +open, taking off his boots first, and then fled.</p> +<p>Imagine a sumptuously-equipped garage, half-filled by The +Infant's cobalt-blue, grey-corded silk limousine and a +mud-splashed, cheap, hooded four-seater. In the back seat of this +last, conceive a fiery chestnut head emerging from a long oat-sack; +an implacable white face, with blazing eyes and jaws that worked +ceaselessly at the loop of the string that was drawn round its +neck. The effect, under the electrics, was that of a demon +caterpillar wrathfully spinning its own cocoon.</p> +<p>'Good evening!' I said genially. 'Let me help you out of that.' +The head glared. 'We've got 'em,' I went on. 'They came to quite +the wrong shop for this sort of game--quite the wrong shop.'</p> +<p>'Game!' said the head. 'We'll see about that. Let me out.'</p> +<p>It was not a promising voice for one so young, and, as usual, I +had no knife.</p> +<p>'You've chewed the string so I can't find the knot,' I said as I +worked with trembling fingers at the cater-pillar's throat. +Something untied itself, and Mr. Wontner wriggled out, collarless, +tieless, his coat split half down his back, his waistcoat +unbuttoned, his watch-chain snapped, his trousers rucked well above +the knees.</p> +<p>'Where,' he said grimly, as he pulled them down, 'are Master +Trivett and Master Eames?'</p> +<p>'Both arrested, of course,' I replied. 'Sir George'--I gave The +Infant's full title as a baronet--'is a Justice of the Peace. He'd +be very pleased if you dined with us. There's a room ready for +you.' I picked up the sack.</p> +<p>'D'you know,' said Mr. Wontner through his teeth--but the car's +bonnet was between us, 'that this looks to me like--I won't say +conspiracy <i>yet</i>, but uncommonly like a confederacy.'</p> +<p>When injured souls begin to distinguish and qualify, danger is +over. So I grew bold.</p> +<p>''Sorry you take it that way,' I said. 'You come here in +trouble--'</p> +<p>'My good fool,' he interrupted, with a half-hysterical snort, +'let me assure you that the trouble will recoil on the other +men!'</p> +<p>'As you please,' I went on. 'Anyhow, the chaps who got you into +trouble are arrested, and the magistrate who arrested 'em asks you +to dinner. Shall I tell him you're walking back to Aldershot?'</p> +<p>He picked some fluff off his waistcoat.</p> +<p>'I'm in no position to dictate terms yet,' he said. 'That will +come later. I must probe into this a little further. In the +meantime, I accept your invitation without prejudice--if you +understand what that means.'</p> +<p>I understood and began to be happy again. Sub-alterns without +prejudices were quite new to me. 'All right,' I replied; 'if you'll +go up to the house, I'll turn out the lights.'</p> +<p>He walked off stiffly, while I searched the sack and the car for +the impounded correspondence that Bobby had talked of. I found +nothing except, as the police reports say, the trace of a struggle. +He had kicked half the varnish off the back of the front seat, and +had bitten the leather padding where he could reach it. Evidently a +purposeful and hard-mouthed young gentleman.</p> +<p>'Well done!' said Stalky at the door. 'So he didn't slay you. +Stop laughing. He's talking to The Infant now about depositions. +Look here, you're nearest his size. Cut up to your rooms and give +Ipps your dinner things and a clean shirt for him.'</p> +<p>'But I haven't got another suit,' I said.</p> +<p>'You! I'm not thinking of you! We've got to conciliate +<i>him</i>. He's in filthy rags and a filthy temper, and he won't +feel decent till he's dressed. You're the sacrifice. Be quick! And +clean socks, remember!'</p> +<p>Once more I trotted up to my room, changed into unseasonable +unbrushed grey tweeds, put studs into a clean shirt, dug out fresh +socks, handed the whole garniture over to Ipps, and returned to the +hall just in time to hear Stalky say, 'I'm a stockbroker, but I +have the honour to hold His Majesty's commission in a Territorial +battalion.' Then I felt as though I might be beginning to be +repaid.</p> +<p>'I have a very high opinion of the Territorials myself,' said +Mr. Wontner above a glass of sherry. (Infant never lets us put +bitters into anything above twenty years old.) 'But if you had any +experience of the Service, you would find that the Average Army +Man--'</p> +<p>Here The Infant suggested changing, and Ipps, before whom no +human passion can assert itself, led Mr. Wontner away.</p> +<p>'Why the devil did you tell him I was on the Bench?' said Infant +wrathfully to me. 'You know I ain't now. Why didn't he stay in his +father's office? He's a raging blight!'</p> +<p>'Not a bit of it,' said Stalky cheerfully. 'He's a little shaken +and excited. Probably Beetle annoyed him in the garage, but we must +overlook that. We've contained him so far, and I'm going to nibble +round his outposts at dinner. All you've got to do, Infant, is to +remember you're a gentleman in your own house. Don't hop! You'll +find it pretty difficult before dinner's over. I don't want to hear +anything at all from you, Beetle.'</p> +<p>'But I'm just beginning to like him,' I said. 'Do let me +play!'</p> +<p>'Not till I ask you. You'll overdo it. Poor old Dhurrah-bags! A +scandal 'ud break him up!'</p> +<p>'But as long as a regiment has no say as to who joins it, it's +bound to rag,' Infant began. 'Why--why, they varnished me when I +joined!' He squirmed at the thought of it.</p> +<p>'Don't be owls! We ain't discussing principles! We've got to +save the court of inquiry if we can,' said Stalky.</p> +<p>Five minutes later--at 7.45 to be precise--we four sat down to +such a dinner as, I hold, only The Infant's cook can produce, with +wines worthy of pontifical banquets. A man in the extremity of rage +and injured dignity is precisely like a typhoid patient. He asks no +questions, accepts what is put before him, and babbles in one +key--very often of trifles. But food and drink are the very best of +drugs. I think it was Heidsieck Dry Monopole '92--Stalky as usual +stuck to Burgundy--that began to unlock Mr. Wontner's heart behind +my shirt-front. Me he snubbed throughout, after the Oxford manner, +because I had seen him in the sack, and he did not intend me to +presume; but to Stalky and The Infant, while I admired the set of +my dinner-jacket across his shoulders, he made his plans of revenge +very clear indeed. He had even sketched out some of the paragraphs +that were to appear in the papers, and if Stalky had allowed me to +speak, I would have told him that they were rather neatly +phrased.</p> +<p>'You ought to be able to get whackin' damages out of 'em, into +the bargain,' said Stalky, after Mr. Wontner had outlined his +position legally.</p> +<p>'My de-ah sir,' Mr. Wontner applied himself to his glass, 'it +isn't a matter that gentlemen usually discuss, but, I assure you, +we Wontners'--he waved a well-kept hand--'do not stand in any need +of filthy lucre.' In the next three minutes, we learned exactly +what his father was worth, which, as he pointed out, was a trifle +no man of the world dwelt on. Stalky envied aloud, and I delivered +my first kick at The Infant's ankle. Thence we drifted to +education, and the Average Army Man, and the desolating vacuity--I +remember these words--of Army Society, notably among its womenkind. +It appeared there was some sort of narrow convention in the Army +against mentioning a woman's name at Mess. We were much surprised +at this--Stalky would not let me express my surprise--but we took +it from Mr. Wontner, who said we might, that it was so. Next he +touched on Colonels of the old school, and their cognisance of +tactics. Not that he himself pretended to any skill in tactics, but +after three years at the 'Varsity--none of us had had a 'Varsity +education--a man insensibly contracted the habit of clear thinking. +At least, he could automatically co-ordinate his ideas, and the +jealousy of these muddle-headed Colonels was inconceivable. We +would understand that it was his duty to force on the retirement of +his Colonel, who had been in the conspiracy against him; to make +his Adjutant resign or exchange; and to give the half-dozen +childish subalterns who had vexed his dignity a chance to retrieve +themselves in other corps--West African ones, he hoped. For +himself, after the case was decided, he proposed to go on living in +the regiment, just to prove--for he bore no malice--that times had +changed, <i>nosque mutamur in illis</i>--if we knew what that +meant. Infant had curled his legs out of reach, so I was quite free +to return thanks yet once more to Allah for the diversity of His +creatures in His adorable world.</p> +<p>And so, by way of an eighty-year-old liqueur brandy, to tactics +and the great General Clausewitz, unknown to the Average Army Man. +Here The Infant, at a whisper from Ipps--whose face had darkened +like a mulberry while he waited--excused himself and went away, but +Stalky, Colonel of Territorials, wanted some tips on tactics. He +got them unbrokenly for ten minutes--Wontner and Clausewitz mixed, +but Wontner in a film of priceless cognac distinctly on top. When +The Infant came back, he renewed his clear-spoken demand that +Infant should take his depositions. I supposed this to be a family +trait of the Wontners, whom I had been visualising for some time +past even to the third generation.</p> +<p>'But, hang it all, they're both asleep!' said Infant, scowling +at me. 'Ipps let 'em have the '81 port.'</p> +<p>'Asleep!' said Stalky, rising at once. 'I don't see that makes +any difference. As a matter of form, you'd better identify them. +I'll show you the way.'</p> +<p>We followed up the white stone side-staircase that leads to the +bachelors' wing. Mr. Wontner seemed surprised that the boys were +not in the coal-cellar.</p> +<p>'Oh, a chap's assumed to be innocent until he's proved guilty,' +said Stalky, mounting step by step. 'How did they get you into the +sack, Mr. Wontner?'</p> +<p>'Jumped on me from behind--two to one,' said Mr. Wontner +briefly. 'I think I handed each of them something first, but they +roped my arms and legs.'</p> +<p>'And did they photograph you in the sack?'</p> +<p>'Good Heavens, no!' Mr. Wontner shuddered.</p> +<p>'That's lucky. Awful thing to live down--a photograph, isn't +it?' said Stalky to me as we reached the landing. 'I'm thinking of +the newspapers, of course.'</p> +<p>'Oh, but you can easily have sketches in the illustrated papers +from accounts supplied by eye-witnesses,' I said.</p> +<p>Mr. Wontner turned him round. It was the first time he had +honoured me by his notice since our talk in the garage.</p> +<p>'Ah,' said he, 'do you pretend to any special knowledge in these +matters?'</p> +<p>'I'm a journalist by profession,' I answered simply but nobly. +'As soon as you're at liberty, I'd like to have your account of the +affair.'</p> +<p>Now I thought he would have loved me for this, but he only +replied in an uncomfortable, uncoming-on voice, 'Oh, you would, +would you?'</p> +<p>'Not if it's any trouble, of course,' I said. 'I can always get +their version from the defendants. Do either of 'em draw or sketch +at all, Mr. Wontner? Or perhaps your father might--'</p> +<p>Then he said quite hotly, 'I wish you to understand very +clearly, my good man, that a gentleman's name can't be dragged +through the gutter to bolster up the circulation of your wretched +sheet, whatever it may be.'</p> +<p>'It is ----' I named a journal of enormous sales which +specialises in scholastic, military, and other scandals. 'I don't +know yet what it can't do, Mr. Wontner.'</p> +<p>'I didn't know that I was dealing with a reporter' said Mr. +Wontner.</p> +<p>We were all halted outside a shut door. Ipps had followed +us.</p> +<p>'But surely you want it in the papers, don't you?' I urged. +'With a scandal like this, one couldn't, in justice to the +democracy, be exclusive. We'd syndicate it here and in the United +States. I helped you out of the sack, if you remember.'</p> +<p>'I wish to goodness you'd stop talking!' he snapped, and sat +down on a chair. Stalky's hand on my shoulder quietly signalled me +out of action, but I felt that my fire had not been +misdirected.</p> +<p>'I'll answer for him,' said Stalky to Wontner, in an undertone +that dropped to a whisper. I caught--'Not without my +leave--dependent on me for market-tips,' and other gratifying +tributes to my integrity.</p> +<p>Still Mr. Wontner sat in his chair, and still we waited on him. +The Infant's face showed worry and heavy grief; Stalky's, a bright +and bird-like interest; mine was hidden behind his shoulders, but +on the face of Ipps were written emotions that no butler should +cherish towards any guest. Contempt and wrath were the least of +them. And Mr. Wontner was looking full at Ipps, as Ipps was looking +at him. Mr. Wontner's father, I understood, kept a butler and two +footmen.</p> +<p>'D'you suppose they're shamming, in order to get off?' he said +at last. Ipps shook his head and noiselessly threw the door open. +The boys had finished their dinner and were fast asleep--one on a +sofa, one in a long chair--their faces fallen back to the lines of +their childhood. They had had a wildish night, a hard day, that +ended with a telling-off from an artist, and the assurance they had +wrecked their prospects for life. What else should youth do, then, +but eat, and drink '81 port, and remember their sorrows no +more?</p> +<p>Mr. Wontner looked at them severely, Ipps within easy reach, his +hands quite ready. 'Childish,' said Mr. Wontner at last. 'Childish +but necessary. Er--have you such a thing as a rope on the premises, +and a sack--two sacks and two ropes? I'm afraid I can't resist the +temptation. That man understands, doesn't he, that this is a +private matter?'</p> +<p>'That man,' who was me, was off to the basement like one of +Infant's own fallow-deer. The stables gave me what I wanted, and +coming back with it through a dark passage, I ran squarely into +Ipps. 'Go on!' he grunted. 'The minute he lays hands on Master +Bobby, Master Bobby's saved. But that person ought to be told how +near he came to being assaulted. It was touch-and-go with me all +the time from the soup down, I assure you.'</p> +<p>I arrived breathless with the sacks and the ropes. 'They were +two to one with me,' said Mr. Wontner, as he took them. 'If they +wake--'</p> +<p>'We'll stand by,' Stalky replied. 'Two to one is quite +fair.'</p> +<p>But the boys hardly grunted as Mr. Wontner roped first one and +then the other. Even when they were slid into the sacks they only +mumbled, with rolling heads, through sticky lips, and snored +on.</p> +<p>'Port?' said Mr. Wontner virtuously.</p> +<p>'Nervous exhaustion. They aren't much more than kids, after all. +What's next?' said Stalky.</p> +<p>'I want to take 'em away with me, please.'</p> +<p>Stalky looked at him with respect.</p> +<p>'I'll have my car round in five minutes,' said The Infant. +'Ipps'll help carry 'em downstairs,' and he shook Mr. Wontner by +the hand.</p> +<p>We were all perfectly serious till the two bundles were dumped +on a divan in the hall, and the boys waked and began to realise +what had happened.</p> +<p>'Yah!' said Mr. Wontner, with the simplicity of twelve years +old. 'Who's scored now?' And he sat upon them. The tension broke in +a storm of laughter, led, I think, by Ipps.</p> +<p>'Asinine--absolutely asinine!' said Mr. Wontner, with folded +arms from his lively chair. But he drank in the flattery and the +fellowship of it all with quite a brainless grin, as we rolled and +stamped round him, and wiped the tears from our cheeks.</p> +<p>'Hang it!' said Bobby Trivett. 'We're defeated!'</p> +<p>'By tactics, too,' said Eames. 'I didn't think you knew 'em, +Clausewitz. It's a fair score. What are you going to do with +us?'</p> +<p>'Take you back to Mess,' said Mr. Wontner.</p> +<p>'Not like this?'</p> +<p>'Oh no. Worse--much worse! I haven't begun with you yet. And you +thought you'd scored! Yah!'</p> +<p>They had scored beyond their wildest dream. The man in whose +hands it lay to shame them, their Colonel, their Adjutant, their +Regiment, and their Service, had cast away all shadow of his legal +rights for the sake of a common or bear-garden rag--such a rag as +if it came to the ears of the authorities, would cost him his +commission. They were saved, and their saviour was their equal and +their brother. So they chaffed and reviled him as such till he +again squashed the breath out of them, and we others laughed louder +than they.</p> +<p>'Fall in!' said Stalky when the limousine came round. 'This is +the score of the century. I wouldn't miss it for a brigade! We +shan't be long, Infant!'</p> +<p>I hurried into a coat.</p> +<p>'Is there any necessity for that reporter-chap to come too?' +said Mr. Wontner in an unguarded whisper. 'He isn't dressed for one +thing.'</p> +<p>Bobby and Eames wriggled round to look at the reporter, began a +joyous bellow, and suddenly stopped.</p> +<p>'What's the matter?' said Wontner with suspicion.</p> +<p>'Nothing,' said Bobby. 'I die happy, Clausewitz. Take me up +tenderly.'</p> +<p>We packed into the car, bearing our sheaves with us, and for +half an hour, as the cool night-air fanned his thoughtful brow, Mr. +Wontner was quite abreast of himself. Though he said nothing +unworthy, he triumphed and trumpeted a little loudly over the +sacks. I sat between them on the back seat, and applauded him +servilely till he reminded me that what I had seen and what he had +said was not for publication. I hinted, while the boys plunged with +joy inside their trappings, that this might be a matter for +arrangement. 'Then a sovereign shan't part us,' said Mr. Wontner +cheerily, and both boys fell into lively hysterics. 'I don't see +where the joke comes in for you,' said Mr. Wontner. 'I thought it +was my little jokelet to-night.'</p> +<p>'No, Clausewitz,' gasped Bobby. 'Some is, but not all. I'll be +good now. I'll give you my parole till we get to Mess. I wouldn't +be out of this for a fiver.'</p> +<p>'Nor me,' said Eames, and he gave his parole to attempt no +escape or evasion.</p> +<p>'Now, I suppose,' said Mr. Wontner largely to Stalky, as we +neared the suburbs of Ash, 'you have a good deal of practical +joking on the Stock Exchange, haven't you?'</p> +<p>'And when were you on the Stock Exchange, Uncle Leonard?' piped +Bobby, while Eames laid his sobbing head on my shoulder.</p> +<p>'I'm sorry,' said Stalky, 'but the fact is, I command a regiment +myself when I'm at home. Your Colonel knows me, I think.' He gave +his name. Mr. Wontner seemed to have heard of it. We had to pick +Eames off the floor, where he had cast himself from excess of +delight.</p> +<p>'Oh, Heavens!' said Mr. Wontner after a long pause. 'What have I +done? What haven't I done?' We felt the temperature in the car rise +as he blushed.</p> +<p>'You didn't talk tactics, Clausewitz?' said Bobby. 'Oh, say it +wasn't tactics, darling!'</p> +<p>'It was,' said Wontner.</p> +<p>Eames was all among our feet again, crying, 'If you don't let me +get my arms up, I'll be sick. Let's hear what you said. Tell +us.'</p> +<p>But Mr. Wontner turned to Stalky. 'It's no good my begging your +pardon, sir, I suppose,' he said.</p> +<p>'Don't you notice 'em,' said Stalky. 'It was a fair rag all +round, and anyhow, you two youngsters haven't any right to talk +tactics. You've been rolled up, horse, foot, and guns.'</p> +<p>'I'll make a treaty. If you'll let us go and change presently,' +said Bobby, 'I'll promise we won't tell about you, Clausewitz. +<i>You</i> talked tactics to Uncle Len? Old Dhurrah-bags will like +that. He don't love you, Claus.'</p> +<p>'If I've made one ass of myself, I shall take extra care to make +asses of you!' said Wontner. 'I want to stop, please, at the next +milliner's shop on the right. It ought to be close here.'</p> +<p>He evidently knew the country even in the dark, for the car +stopped at a brilliantly-lighted millinery establishment, where--it +was Saturday evening--a young lady was clearing up the counter. I +followed him, as a good reporter should.</p> +<p>'Have you got--' he began. 'Ah, those'll do!' He pointed to two +hairy plush beehive bonnets, one magenta, the other a conscientious +electric blue. 'How much, please? I'll take them both, and that +bunch of peacock feathers, and that red feather thing.' It was a +brilliant crimson-dyed pigeon's wing.</p> +<p>'Now I want some yards of muslin with a nice, fierce pattern, +please.' He got it--yellow with black tulips--and returned heavily +laden.</p> +<p>'Sorry to have kept you,' said he. 'Now we'll go to my quarters +to change and beautify.'</p> +<p>We came to them--opposite a dun waste of parade-ground that +might have been Mian Mir--and bugles as they blew and drums as they +rolled set heart-strings echoing.</p> +<p>We hoisted the boys out and arranged them on chairs, while +Wontner changed into uniform, but stopped when he saw me taking off +my jacket.</p> +<p>'What on earth's that for?' said he.</p> +<p>'Because you've been wearing my evening things,' I said. 'I want +to get into 'em again, if you don't mind.'</p> +<p>'Then you aren't a reporter?' he said.</p> +<p>'No,' I said, 'but that shan't part us.'</p> +<p>'Oh, hurry!' cried Eames in desperate convulsions. 'We can't +stand this much longer. 'Tisn't fair on the young.'</p> +<p>'I'll attend to you in good time,' said Wontner; and when he had +made careful toilet, he unwrapped the bonnets, put the peacock's +feather into the magenta one, pinned the crimson wing on the blue +one, set them daintily on the boys' heads, and bade them admire the +effect in his shaving-glass while he ripped the muslin into +lengths, bound it first, and draped it artistically afterwards a +little below their knees. He finished off with a gigantic sash-bow, +obi fashion. 'Hobble skirts,' he explained to Stalky, who nodded +approval.</p> +<p>Next he split open the bottom of each sack so that they could +walk, but with very short steps. 'I ought to have got you white +satin slippers,' he murmured, 'and I'm sorry there's no rouge.'</p> +<p>'Don't worry on our account, old man--you're doing us proud,' +said Bobby from under his hat. 'This beats milk-punch and +mayonnaise.'</p> +<p>'Oh, why didn't we think of these things when we had him at our +mercy?' Eames wailed. 'Never mind--we'll try it on the next chap. +You've a mind, Claus.'</p> +<p>'Now we'll call on 'em at Mess,' said Wontner, as they minced +towards the door.</p> +<p>'I think I'll call on your Colonel,' said Stalky. 'He oughtn't +to miss this. Your first attempt? I assure you I couldn't have done +it better myself. Thank you!' He held out his hand.</p> +<p>'Thank <i>you</i>, sir!' said Wontner, shaking it. 'I'm more +grateful to you than I can say, and--and I'd like you to believe +some time that I'm not quite as big a--'</p> +<p>'Not in the least,' Stalky interrupted. 'If I were writing a +confidential report on you, I should put you down as rather +adequate. Look after your geishas, or they'll fall!'</p> +<p>We watched the three cross the road and disappear into the +shadow of the Mess verandah. There was a noise. Then telephone +bells rang, a sergeant and a Mess waiter charged out, and the noise +grew, till at last the Mess was a little noisy.</p> +<p>We came back, ten minutes later, with Colonel Dalziell, who had +been taking his sorrows to bed with him. The ante-room was quite +full and visitors were still arriving, but it was possible to hear +oneself speak occasionally. Trivett and Eames, in sack and sash, +sat side by side on a table, their hats at a ravishing angle, +coquettishly twiddling their tied feet. In the intervals of singing +'Put Me Among the Girls,' they sipped whisky-and-soda held to their +lips by, I regret to say, a Major. Public opinion seemed to be +against allowing them to change their costume till they should have +danced in it. Wontner, lying more or less gracefully at the level +of the chandelier in the arms of six subalterns, was lecturing on +tactics and imploring to be let down, which he was with a run when +they realised that the Colonel was there. Then he picked himself up +from the sofa and said: 'I want to apologise, sir, to you and the +Mess for having been such an ass ever since I joined!'</p> +<p>This was when the noise began.</p> +<p>Seeing the night promised to be wet, Stalky and I went home +again in The Infant's car. It was some time since we had tasted the +hot air that lies between the cornice and the ceiling of crowded +rooms.</p> +<p>After half an hour's silence, Stalky said to me: 'I don't know +what you've been doing, but I believe I've been weepin'. Would you +put that down to Burgundy or senile decay?'</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page131"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"><b>THE CHILDREN</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>These were our children who died for our lands: they were dear +in our sight.</p> +<p class="i1">We have only the memory left of their home-treasured +sayings and laughter.</p> +<p class="i1">The price of our loss shall be paid to our hands, not +another's hereafter.</p> +<p>Neither the Alien nor Priest shall decide on it. That is our +right. <i>But who shall return us the children</i>?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>At the hour the Barbarian chose to disclose his pretences,</p> +<p class="i1">And raged against Man, they engaged, on the breasts +that they bared for us,</p> +<p class="i1">The first felon-stroke of the sword he had long-time +prepared for us--</p> +<p>Their bodies were all our defence while we wrought our +defences.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>They bought us anew with their blood, forbearing to blame +us,</p> +<p>Those hours which we had not made good when the Judgment +o'ercame us.</p> +<p>They believed us and perished for it. Our statecraft, our +learning.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Delivered them bound to the Pit and alive to the burning</p> +<p>Whither they mirthfully hastened as jostling for honour.</p> +<p>Not since her birth has our Earth seen such worth loosed upon +her.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Nor was their agony brief, or once only imposed on them.</p> +<p class="i1">The wounded, the war-spent, the sick received no +exemption:</p> +<p class="i1">Being cured they returned and endured and achieved +our redemption,</p> +<p>Hopeless themselves of relief, till Death, marvelling, closed on +them.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>That flesh we had nursed from the first in all cleanness was +given</p> +<p>To corruption unveiled and assailed by the malice of +Heaven--</p> +<p>By the heart-shaking jests of Decay where it lolled on the +wires--</p> +<p>To be blanched or gay-painted by fumes--to be cindered by +fires--</p> +<p>To be senselessly tossed and retossed in stale mutilation</p> +<p>From crater to crater. For this we shall take expiation.</p> +<p class="i4"><i>But who shall return us our children</i>?</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page133"></a> +<h2>The Dog Hervey</h2> +<h3>(April 1914)</h3> +<br> +<p>My friend Attley, who would give away his own head if you told +him you had lost yours, was giving away a six-months-old litter of +Bettina's pups, and half-a-dozen women were in raptures at the show +on Mittleham lawn.</p> +<p>We picked by lot. Mrs. Godfrey drew first choice; her married +daughter, second. I was third, but waived my right because I was +already owned by Malachi, Bettina's full brother, whom I had +brought over in the car to visit his nephews and nieces, and he +would have slain them all if I had taken home one. Milly, Mrs. +Godfrey's younger daughter, pounced on my rejection with squeals of +delight, and Attley turned to a dark, sallow-skinned, slack-mouthed +girl, who had come over for tennis, and invited her to pick. She +put on a pince-nez that made her look like a camel, knelt clumsily, +for she was long from the hip to the knee, breathed hard, and +considered the last couple.</p> +<p>'I think I'd like that sandy-pied one,' she said.</p> +<p>'Oh, not him, Miss Sichliffe!' Attley cried. 'He was overlaid or +had sunstroke or something. They call him The Looney in the +kennels. Besides, he squints.'</p> +<p>'I think that's rather fetching,' she answered. Neither Malachi +nor I had ever seen a squinting dog before.</p> +<p>'That's chorea--St. Vitus's dance,' Mrs. Godfrey put in. 'He +ought to have been drowned.'</p> +<p>'But I like his cast of countenance,' the girl persisted.</p> +<p>'He doesn't look a good life,' I said, 'but perhaps he can be +patched up.' Miss Sichliffe turned crimson; I saw Mrs. Godfrey +exchange a glance with her married daughter, and knew I had said +something which would have to be lived down.</p> +<p>'Yes,' Miss Sichliffe went on, her voice shaking, 'he isn't a +good life, but perhaps I can--patch him up. Come here, sir.' The +misshapen beast lurched toward her, squinting down his own nose +till he fell over his own toes. Then, luckily, Bettina ran across +the lawn and reminded Malachi of their puppyhood. All that family +are as queer as Dick's hatband, and fight like man and wife. I had +to separate them, and Mrs. Godfrey helped me till they retired +under the rhododendrons and had it out in silence.</p> +<p>'D'you know what that girl's father was?' Mrs. Godfrey +asked.</p> +<p>'No,' I replied. 'I loathe her for her own sake. She breathes +through her mouth.'</p> +<p>'He was a retired doctor,' she explained. 'He used to pick up +stormy young men in the repentant stage, take them home, and patch +them up till they were sound enough to be insured. Then he insured +them heavily, and let them out into the world again--with an +appetite. Of course, no one knew him while he was alive, but he +left pots of money to his daughter.'</p> +<p>'Strictly legitimate--highly respectable,' I said. 'But what a +life for the daughter!'</p> +<p>'Mustn't it have been! <i>Now</i> d'you realise what you said +just now?'</p> +<p>'Perfectly; and now you've made me quite happy, shall we go back +to the house?'</p> +<p>When we reached it they were all inside, sitting in committee on +names.</p> +<p>'What shall you call yours?' I heard Milly ask Miss +Sichliffe.</p> +<p>'Harvey,' she replied--'Harvey's Sauce, you know. He's going to +be quite saucy when I've'--she saw Mrs. Godfrey and me coming +through the French window--'when he's stronger.'</p> +<p>Attley, the well-meaning man, to make me feel at ease, asked +what I thought of the name.</p> +<p>'Oh, splendid,' I said at random. 'H with an A, A with an R, R +with a--'</p> +<p>'But that's Little Bingo,' some one said, and they all +laughed.</p> +<p>Miss Sichliffe, her hands joined across her long knees, drawled, +'You ought always to verify your quotations.'</p> +<p>It was not a kindly thrust, but something in the word +'quotation' set the automatic side of my brain at work on some +shadow of a word or phrase that kept itself out of memory's reach +as a cat sits just beyond a dog's jump. When I was going home, Miss +Sichliffe came up to me in the twilight, the pup on a leash, +swinging her big shoes at the end of her tennis-racket.</p> +<p>''Sorry,' she said in her thick schoolboy-like voice. 'I'm sorry +for what I said to you about verifying quotations. I didn't know +you well enough and--anyhow, I oughtn't to have.'</p> +<p>'But you were quite right about Little Bingo,' I answered. 'The +spelling ought to have reminded me.'</p> +<p>'Yes, of course. It's the spelling,' she said, and slouched off +with the pup sliding after her. Once again my brain began to worry +after something that would have meant something if it had been +properly spelled. I confided my trouble to Malachi on the way home, +but Bettina had bitten him in four places, and he was busy.</p> +<p>Weeks later, Attley came over to see me, and before his car +stopped Malachi let me know that Bettina was sitting beside the +chauffeur. He greeted her by the scruff of the neck as she hopped +down; and I greeted Mrs. Godfrey, Attley, and a big basket.</p> +<p>'You've got to help me,' said Attley tiredly. We took the basket +into the garden, and there staggered out the angular shadow of a +sandy-pied, broken-haired terrier, with one imbecile and one +delirious ear, and two most hideous squints. Bettina and Malachi, +already at grips on the lawn, saw him, let go, and fled in opposite +directions.</p> +<p>'Why have you brought that fetid hound here?' I demanded.</p> +<p>'Harvey? For you to take care of,' said Attley. 'He's had +distemper, but <i>I</i>'m going abroad.'</p> +<p>'Take him with you. I won't have him. He's mentally +afflicted.'</p> +<p>'Look here,' Attley almost shouted, 'do I strike you as a +fool?'</p> +<p>'Always,' said I.</p> +<p>'Well, then, if you say so, and Ella says so, that proves I +ought to go abroad.'</p> +<p>'Will's wrong, quite wrong,' Mrs. Godfrey interrupted; 'but you +must take the pup.'</p> +<p>'My dear boy, my dear boy, don't you ever give anything to a +woman,' Attley snorted.</p> +<p>Bit by bit I got the story out of them in the quiet garden +(never a sign from Bettina and Malachi), while Harvey stared me out +of countenance, first with one cuttlefish eye and then with the +other.</p> +<p>It appeared that, a month after Miss Sichliffe took him, the dog +Harvey developed distemper. Miss Sichliffe had nursed him herself +for some time; then she carried him in her arms the two miles to +Mittleham, and wept--actually wept--at Attley's feet, saying that +Harvey was all she had or expected to have in this world, and +Attley must cure him. Attley, being by wealth, position, and +temperament guardian to all lame dogs, had put everything aside for +this unsavoury job, and, he asserted, Miss Sichliffe had virtually +lived with him ever since.</p> +<p>'She went home at night, of course,' he exploded, 'but the rest +of the time she simply infested the premises. Goodness knows, I'm +not particular, but it was a scandal. Even the servants!... Three +and four times a day, and notes in between, to know how the beast +was. Hang it all, don't laugh! And wanting to send me flowers and +goldfish. Do I look as if I wanted goldfish? Can't you two stop for +a minute?' (Mrs. Godfrey and I were clinging to each other for +support.) 'And it isn't as if I was--was so alluring a personality, +is it?'</p> +<p>Attley commands more trust, goodwill, and affection than most +men, for he is that rare angel, an absolutely unselfish bachelor, +content to be run by contending syndicates of zealous friends. His +situation seemed desperate, and I told him so.</p> +<p>'Instant flight is your only remedy,' was my verdict. I'll take +care of both your cars while you're away, and you can send me over +all the greenhouse fruit.'</p> +<p>'But why should I be chased out of my house by a she-dromedary?' +he wailed.</p> +<p>'Oh, stop! Stop!' Mrs. Godfrey sobbed. 'You're both wrong. I +admit you're right, but I <i>know</i> you're wrong.'</p> +<p>'Three <i>and</i> four times a day,' said Attley, with an awful +countenance. 'I'm not a vain man, but--look here, Ella, I'm not +sensitive, I hope, but if you persist in making a joke of it--'</p> +<p>'Oh, be quiet!' she almost shrieked. 'D'you imagine for one +instant that your friends would ever let Mittleham pass out of +their hands? I quite agree it is unseemly for a grown girl to come +to Mittleham at all hours of the day and night--'</p> +<p>'I told you she went home o' nights,' Attley growled.</p> +<p>'Specially if she goes home o' nights. Oh, but think of the life +she must have led, Will!'</p> +<p>'I'm not interfering with it; only she must leave me alone.'</p> +<p>'She may want to patch you up and insure you,' I suggested.</p> +<p>'D'you know what <i>you</i> are?' Mrs. Godfrey turned on me with +the smile I have feared for the last quarter of a century. 'You're +the nice, kind, wise, doggy friend. You don't know how wise and +nice you are supposed to be. Will has sent Harvey to you to +complete the poor angel's convalescence. You know all about dogs, +or Will wouldn't have done it. He's written her that. You're too +far off for her to make daily calls on you. P'r'aps she'll drop in +two or three times a week, and write on other days. But it doesn't +matter what she does, because you don't own Mittleham, don't you +see?'</p> +<p>I told her I saw most clearly.</p> +<p>'Oh, you'll get over that in a few days,' Mrs. Godfrey +countered. 'You're the sporting, responsible, doggy friend +who--'</p> +<p>'He used to look at me like that at first,' said Attley, with a +visible shudder, 'but he gave it up after a bit. It's only because +you're new to him.'</p> +<p>'But, confound you! he's a ghoul--' I began.</p> +<p>'And when he gets quite well, you'll send him back to her direct +with your love, and she'll give you some pretty four-tailed +goldfish,' said Mrs. Godfrey, rising. 'That's all settled. Car, +please. We're going to Brighton to lunch together.'</p> +<p>They ran before I could get into my stride, so I told the dog +Harvey what I thought of them and his mistress. He never shifted +his position, but stared at me, an intense, lopsided stare, eye +after eye. Malachi came along when he had seen his sister off, and +from a distance counselled me to drown the brute and consort with +gentlemen again. But the dog Harvey never even cocked his cockable +ear.</p> +<p>And so it continued as long as he was with me. Where I sat, he +sat and stared; where I walked, he walked beside, head stiffly +slewed over one shoulder in single-barrelled contemplation of me. +He never gave tongue, never closed in for a caress, seldom let me +stir a step alone. And, to my amazement, Malachi, who suffered no +stranger to live within our gates, saw this gaunt, growing, +green-eyed devil wipe him out of my service and company without a +whimper. Indeed, one would have said the situation interested him, +for he would meet us returning from grim walks together, and look +alternately at Harvey and at me with the same quivering interest +that he showed at the mouth of a rat-hole. Outside these +inspections, Malachi withdrew himself as only a dog or a woman +can.</p> +<p>Miss Sichliffe came over after a few days (luckily I was out) +with some elaborate story of paying calls in the neighbourhood. She +sent me a note of thanks next day. I was reading it when Harvey and +Malachi entered and disposed themselves as usual, Harvey close up +to stare at me, Malachi half under the sofa, watching us both. Out +of curiosity I returned Harvey's stare, then pulled his lopsided +head on to my knee, and took his eye for several minutes. Now, in +Malachi's eye I can see at any hour all that there is of the normal +decent dog, flecked here and there with that strained half-soul +which man's love and association have added to his nature. But with +Harvey the eye was perplexed, as a tortured man's. Only by looking +far into its deeps could one make out the spirit of the proper +animal, beclouded and cowering beneath some unfair burden.</p> +<p>Leggatt, my chauffeur, came in for orders.</p> +<p>'How d'you think Harvey's coming on?' I said, as I rubbed the +brute's gulping neck. The vet had warned me of the possibilities of +spinal trouble following distemper.</p> +<p>'He ain't <i>my</i> fancy,' was the reply. 'But <i>I</i> don't +question his comings and goings so long as I 'aven't to sit alone +in a room with him.'</p> +<p>'Why? He's as meek as Moses,' I said.</p> +<p>'He fair gives me the creeps. P'r'aps he'll go out in fits.'</p> +<p>But Harvey, as I wrote his mistress from time to time, throve, +and when he grew better, would play by himself grisly games of +spying, walking up, hailing, and chasing another dog. From these he +would break off of a sudden and return to his normal stiff gait, +with the air of one who had forgotten some matter of life and +death, which could be reached only by staring at me. I left him one +evening posturing with the unseen on the lawn, and went inside to +finish some letters for the post. I must have been at work nearly +an hour, for I was going to turn on the lights, when I felt there +was somebody in the room whom, the short hairs at the back of my +neck warned me, I was not in the least anxious to face. There was a +mirror on the wall. As I lifted my eyes to it I saw the dog Harvey +reflected near the shadow by the closed door. He had reared himself +full-length on his hind legs, his head a little one side to clear a +sofa between us, and he was looking at me. The face, with its +knitted brows and drawn lips, was the face of a dog, but the look, +for the fraction of time that I caught it, was human--wholly and +horribly human. When the blood in my body went forward again he had +dropped to the floor, and was merely studying me in his usual +one-eyed fashion. Next day I returned him to Miss Sichliffe. I +would not have kept him another day for the wealth of Asia, or even +Ella Godfrey's approval.</p> +<p>Miss Sichliffe's house I discovered to be a mid-Victorian +mansion of peculiar villainy even for its period, surrounded by +gardens of conflicting colours, all dazzling with glass and fresh +paint on ironwork. Striped blinds, for it was a blazing autumn +morning, covered most of the windows, and a voice sang to the piano +an almost forgotten song of Jean Ingelow's--</p> +<blockquote>Methought that the stars were blinking bright,<br> + And the old brig's sails unfurled--</blockquote> +<p>Down came the loud pedal, and the unrestrained cry swelled out +across a bed of tritomas consuming in their own fires--</p> +<blockquote>When I said I will sail to my love this night<br> + On the other side of the world.</blockquote> +<p>I have no music, but the voice drew. I waited till the end:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Oh, maid most dear, I am not here</p> +<p class="i5">I have no place apart--</p> +<p class="i4">No dwelling more on sea or shore,</p> +<p class="i5">But only in thy heart.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>It seemed to me a poor life that had no more than that to do at +eleven o'clock of a Tuesday forenoon. Then Miss Sichliffe suddenly +lumbered through a French window in clumsy haste, her brows +contracted against the light.</p> +<p>'Well?' she said, delivering the word like a spear-thrust, with +the full weight of a body behind it.</p> +<p>'I've brought Harvey back at last,' I replied. 'Here he is.'</p> +<p>But it was at me she looked, not at the dog who had cast himself +at her feet--looked as though she would have fished my soul out of +my breast on the instant.</p> +<p>'Wha--what did you think of him? What did <i>you</i> make of +him?' she panted. I was too taken aback for the moment to reply. +Her voice broke as she stooped to the dog at her knees. 'O Harvey, +Harvey! You utterly worthless old devil!' she cried, and the dog +cringed and abased himself in servility that one could scarcely +bear to look upon. I made to go.</p> +<p>'Oh, but please, you mustn't!' She tugged at the car's side. +'Wouldn't you like some flowers or some orchids? We've really +splendid orchids, and'--she clasped her hands--'there are Japanese +goldfish--real Japanese goldfish, with four tails. If you don't +care for 'em, perhaps your friends or somebody--oh, please!'</p> +<p>Harvey had recovered himself, and I realised that this woman +beyond the decencies was fawning on me as the dog had fawned on +her.</p> +<p>'Certainly,' I said, ashamed to meet her eye. 'I'm lunching at +Mittleham, but--'</p> +<p>'There's plenty of time,' she entreated. 'What do <i>you</i> +think of Harvey?'</p> +<p>'He's a queer beast,' I said, getting out. 'He does nothing but +stare at me.'</p> +<p>'Does he stare at you all the time he's with you?'</p> +<p>'Always. He's doing it now. Look!'</p> +<p>We had halted. Harvey had sat down, and was staring from one to +the other with a weaving motion of the head.</p> +<p>'He'll do that all day,' I said. 'What is it, Harvey?'</p> +<p>'Yes, what <i>is</i> it, Harvey?' she echoed. The dog's throat +twitched, his body stiffened and shook as though he were going to +have a fit. Then he came back with a visible wrench to his +unwinking watch.</p> +<p>'Always so?' she whispered.</p> +<p>'Always,' I replied, and told her something of his life with me. +She nodded once or twice, and in the end led me into the house.</p> +<p>There were unaging pitch-pine doors of Gothic design in it; +there were inlaid marble mantel-pieces and cut-steel fenders; there +were stupendous wall-papers, and octagonal, medallioned Wedgwood +what-nots, and black-and-gilt Austrian images holding candelabra, +with every other refinement that Art had achieved or wealth had +bought between 1851 and 1878. And everything reeked of varnish.</p> +<p>'Now!' she opened a baize door, and pointed down a long corridor +flanked with more Gothic doors. 'This was where we used to--to +patch 'em up. You've heard of us. Mrs. Godfrey told you in the +garden the day I got Harvey given me. I'--she drew in her +breath--'I live here by myself, and I have a very large income. +Come back, Harvey.'</p> +<p>He had tiptoed down the corridor, as rigid as ever, and was +sitting outside one of the shut doors. 'Look here!' she said, and +planted herself squarely in front of me. 'I tell you this because +you--you've patched up Harvey, too. Now, I want you to remember +that my name is Moira. Mother calls me Marjorie because it's more +refined; but my real name is Moira, and I am in my thirty-fourth +year.'</p> +<p>'Very good,' I said. 'I'll remember all that.'</p> +<p>'Thank you.' Then with a sudden swoop into the humility of an +abashed boy--''Sorry if I haven't said the proper things. You +see--there's Harvey looking at us again. Oh, I want to say--if ever +you want anything in the way of orchids or goldfish or--or anything +else that would be useful to you, you've only to come to me for it. +Under the will I'm perfectly independent, and we're a long-lived +family, worse luck!' She looked at me, and her face worked like +glass behind driven flame. 'I may reasonably expect to live another +fifty years,' she said.</p> +<p>'Thank you, Miss Sichliffe,' I replied. 'If I want anything, you +may be sure I'll come to you for it.' She nodded. 'Now I must get +over to Mittleham,' I said.</p> +<p>'Mr. Attley will ask you all about this.' For the first time she +laughed aloud. 'I'm afraid I frightened him nearly out of the +county. I didn't think, of course. But I dare say he knows by this +time he was wrong. Say good-bye to Harvey.'</p> +<p>'Good-bye, old man,' I said. 'Give me a farewell stare, so we +shall know each other when we meet again.'</p> +<p>The dog looked up, then moved slowly toward me, and stood, head +bowed to the floor, shaking in every muscle as I patted him; and +when I turned, I saw him crawl back to her feet.</p> +<p>That was not a good preparation for the rampant +boy-and-girl-dominated lunch at Mittleham, which, as usual, I found +in possession of everybody except the owner.</p> +<p>'But what did the dromedary say when you brought her beast +back?' Attley demanded.</p> +<p>'The usual polite things,' I replied. 'I'm posing as the nice +doggy friend nowadays.'</p> +<p>'I don't envy you. She's never darkened my doors, thank +goodness, since I left Harvey at your place. I suppose she'll run +about the county now swearing you cured him. That's a woman's idea +of gratitude.' Attley seemed rather hurt, and Mrs. Godfrey +laughed.</p> +<p>'That proves you were right about Miss Sichliffe, Ella,' I said. +'She had no designs on anybody.'</p> +<p>'I'm always right in these matters. But didn't she even offer +you a goldfish?'</p> +<p>'Not a thing,' said I. 'You know what an old maid's like where +her precious dog's concerned.' And though I have tried vainly to +lie to Ella Godfrey for many years, I believe that in this case I +succeeded.</p> +<p>When I turned into our drive that evening, Leggatt observed half +aloud:</p> +<p>'I'm glad Zvengali's back where he belongs. It's time our Mike +had a look in.'</p> +<p>Sure enough, there was Malachi back again in spirit as well as +flesh, but still with that odd air of expectation he had picked up +from Harvey.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>It was in January that Attley wrote me that Mrs. Godfrey, +wintering in Madeira with Milly, her unmarried daughter, had been +attacked with something like enteric; that the hotel, anxious for +its good name, had thrust them both out into a cottage annexe; that +he was off with a nurse, and that I was not to leave England till I +heard from him again. In a week he wired that Milly was down as +well, and that I must bring out two more nurses, with suitable +delicacies.</p> +<p>Within seventeen hours I had got them all aboard the Cape boat, +and had seen the women safely collapsed into sea-sickness. The next +few weeks were for me, as for the invalids, a low delirium, clouded +with fantastic memories of Portuguese officials trying to tax +calves'-foot jelly; voluble doctors insisting that true typhoid was +unknown in the island; nurses who had to be exercised, taken out of +themselves, and returned on the tick of change of guard; night +slides down glassy, cobbled streets, smelling of sewage and +flowers, between walls whose every stone and patch Attley and I +knew; vigils in stucco verandahs, watching the curve and descent of +great stars or drawing auguries from the break of dawn; insane +interludes of gambling at the local Casino, where we won heaps of +unconsoling silver; blasts of steamers arriving and departing in +the roads; help offered by total strangers, grabbed at or thrust +aside; the long nightmare crumbling back into sanity one forenoon +under a vine-covered trellis, where Attley sat hugging a nurse, +while the others danced a noiseless, neat-footed breakdown never +learned at the Middlesex Hospital. At last, as the tension came out +all over us in aches and tingles that we put down to the country +wine, a vision of Mrs. Godfrey, her grey hair turned to spun-glass, +but her eyes triumphant over the shadow of retreating death beneath +them, with Milly, enormously grown, and clutching life back to her +young breast, both stretched out on cane chairs, clamouring for +food.</p> +<p>In this ungirt hour there imported himself into our life a +youngish-looking middle-aged man of the name of Shend, with a +blurred face and deprecating eyes. He said he had gambled with me +at the Casino, which was no recommendation, and I remember that he +twice gave me a basket of champagne and liqueur brandy for the +invalids, which a sailor in a red-tasselled cap carried up to the +cottage for me at 3 A.M. He turned out to be the son of some +merchant prince in the oil and colour line, and the owner of a +four-hundred-ton steam yacht, into which, at his gentle insistence, +we later shifted our camp, staff, and equipage, Milly weeping with +delight to escape from the horrible cottage. There we lay off +Funchal for weeks, while Shend did miracles of luxury and +attendance through deputies, and never once asked how his guests +were enjoying themselves. Indeed, for several days at a time we +would see nothing of him. He was, he said, subject to malaria. +Giving as they do with both hands, I knew that Attley and Mrs. +Godfrey could take nobly; but I never met a man who so nobly gave +and so nobly received thanks as Shend did.</p> +<p>'Tell us why you have been so unbelievably kind to us gipsies,' +Mrs. Godfrey said to him one day on deck.</p> +<p>He looked up from a diagram of some Thames-mouth shoals which he +was explaining to me, and answered with his gentle smile:</p> +<p>'I will. It's because it makes me happy--it makes me more than +happy--to be with you. It makes me comfortable. You know how +selfish men are? If a man feels comfortable all over with certain +people, he'll bore them to death, just like a dog. You always make +me feel as if pleasant things were going to happen to me.'</p> +<p>'Haven't any ever happened before?' Milly asked.</p> +<p>'This is the most pleasant thing that has happened to me in ever +so many years,' he replied. 'I feel like the man in the Bible, +"It's good for me to be here." Generally, I don't feel that it's +good for me to be anywhere in particular.' Then, as one begging a +favour. 'You'll let me come home with you--in the same boat, I +mean? I'd take you back in this thing of mine, and that would save +you packing your trunks, but she's too lively for spring work +across the Bay.'</p> +<p>We booked our berths, and when the time came, he wafted us and +ours aboard the Southampton mail-boat with the pomp of +plenipotentiaries and the precision of the Navy. Then he dismissed +his yacht, and became an inconspicuous passenger in a cabin +opposite to mine, on the port side.</p> +<p>We ran at once into early British spring weather, followed by +sou'west gales. Mrs. Godfrey, Milly, and the nurses disappeared. +Attley stood it out, visibly yellowing, till the next meal, and +followed suit, and Shend and I had the little table all to +ourselves. I found him even more attractive when the women were +away. The natural sweetness of the man, his voice, and bearing all +fascinated me, and his knowledge of practical seamanship (he held +an extra master's certificate) was a real joy. We sat long in the +empty saloon and longer in the smoking-room, making dashes +downstairs over slippery decks at the eleventh hour.</p> +<p>It was on Friday night, just as I was going to bed, that he came +into my cabin, after cleaning his teeth, which he did half a dozen +times a day.</p> +<p>'I say,' he began hurriedly, 'do you mind if I come in here for +a little? I'm a bit edgy.' I must have shown surprise. 'I'm ever so +much better about liquor than I used to be, but--it's the whisky in +the suitcase that throws me. For God's sake, old man, don't go back +on me to-night! Look at my hands!'</p> +<p>They were fairly jumping at the wrists. He sat down on a trunk +that had slid out with the roll. We had reduced speed, and were +surging in confused seas that pounded on the black port-glasses. +The night promised to be a pleasant one!</p> +<p>'You understand, of course, don't you?' he chattered.</p> +<p>'Oh yes,' I said cheerily; 'but how about--'</p> +<p>'No, no; on no account the doctor. 'Tell a doctor, tell the +whole ship. Besides, I've only got a touch of 'em. You'd never have +guessed it, would you? The tooth-wash does the trick. I'll give you +the prescription.'</p> +<p>I'll send a note to the doctor for a prescription, shall I?' I +suggested.</p> +<p>'Right! I put myself unreservedly in your hands. 'Fact is, I +always did. I said to myself--'sure I don't bore you?--the minute I +saw you, I said, "Thou art the man."' He repeated the phrase as he +picked at his knees. 'All the same, you can take it from me that +the ewe-lamb business is a rotten bad one. I don't care how +unfaithful the shepherd may be. Drunk or sober, 'tisn't +cricket.'</p> +<p>A surge of the trunk threw him across the cabin as the steward +answered my bell. I wrote my requisition to the doctor while Shend +was struggling to his feet.</p> +<p>'What's wrong?' he began. 'Oh, I know. We're slowing for +soundings off Ushant. It's about time, too. You'd better ship the +dead-lights when you come back, Matchem. It'll save you waking us +later. This sea's going to get up when the tide turns. That'll show +you,' he said as the man left, 'that I am to be trusted. +You--you'll stop me if I say anything I shouldn't, won't you?'</p> +<p>'Talk away,' I replied, 'if it makes you feel better.'</p> +<p>'That's it; you've hit it exactly. You always make me feel +better. I can rely on you. It's awkward soundings but you'll see me +through it. We'll defeat him yet.... I may be an utterly worthless +devil, but I'm not a brawler.... I told him so at breakfast. I +said, "Doctor, I detest brawling, but if ever you allow that girl +to be insulted again as Clements insulted her, I will break your +neck with my own hands." You think I was right?'</p> +<p>'Absolutely,' I agreed.</p> +<p>'Then we needn't discuss the matter any further. That man was a +murderer in intention--outside the law, you understand, as it was +then. They've changed it since--but he never deceived <i>me</i>. I +told him so. I said to him at the time, "I don't know what price +you're going to put on my head, but if ever you allow Clements to +insult her again, you'll never live to claim it."'</p> +<p>'And what did he do?' I asked, to carry on the conversation, for +Matchem entered with the bromide.</p> +<p>'Oh, crumpled up at once. 'Lead still going, Matchem?'</p> +<p>'I 'aven't 'eard,' said that faithful servant of the +Union-Castle Company.</p> +<p>'Quite right. Never alarm the passengers. Ship the dead-light, +will you?' Matchem shipped it, for we were rolling very heavily. +There were tramplings and gull-like cries from on deck. Shend +looked at me with a mariner's eye.</p> +<p>'That's nothing,' he said protectingly.</p> +<p>'Oh, it's all right for you,' I said, jumping at the idea. +'<i>I</i> haven't an extra master's certificate. I'm only a +passenger. I confess it funks me.'</p> +<p>Instantly his whole bearing changed to answer the appeal.</p> +<p>'My dear fellow, it's as simple as houses. We're hunting for +sixty-five fathom water. Anything short of sixty, with a sou'west +wind means--but I'll get my Channel Pilot out of my cabin and give +you the general idea. I'm only too grateful to do anything to put +your mind at ease.'</p> +<p>And so, perhaps, for another hour--he declined the +drink--Channel Pilot in hand, he navigated us round Ushant, and at +my request up-channel to Southampton, light by light, with +explanations and reminiscences. I professed myself soothed at last, +and suggested bed.</p> +<p>'In a second,' said he. 'Now, you wouldn't think, would you'--he +glanced off the book toward my wildly swaying dressing-gown on the +door--'that I've been seeing things for the last half-hour? 'Fact +is, I'm just on the edge of 'em, skating on thin ice round the +corner--nor'east as near as nothing--where that dog's looking at +me.'</p> +<p>'What's the dog like?' I asked.</p> +<p>'Ah, that <i>is</i> comforting of you! Most men walk through 'em +to show me they aren't real. As if I didn't know! But <i>you're</i> +different. Anybody could see that with half an eye.' He stiffened +and pointed. 'Damn it all! The dog sees it too with half an--Why, +he knows you! Knows you perfectly. D'you know <i>him</i>?'</p> +<p>'How can I tell if he isn't real?' I insisted.</p> +<p>'But you can! <i>You're</i> all right. I saw that from the +first. Don't go back on me now or I shall go to pieces like the +<i>Drummond Castle</i>. I beg your pardon, old man; but, you see, +you <i>do</i> know the dog. I'll prove it. What's that dog doing? +Come on! <i>You</i> know.' A tremor shook him, and he put his hand +on my knee, and whispered with great meaning: 'I'll letter or halve +it with you. There! You begin.'</p> +<p>'S,' said I to humour him, for a dog would most likely be +standing or sitting, or may be scratching or sniffling or +staring.</p> +<p>'Q,' he went on, and I could feel the heat of his shaking +hand.</p> +<p>'U,' said I. There was no other letter possible; but I was +shaking too.</p> +<p>'I.'</p> +<p>'N.'</p> +<p>'T-i-n-g,' he ran out. 'There! That proves it. I knew you knew +him. You don't know what a relief that is. Between ourselves, old +man, he--he's been turning up lately a--a damn sight more often +than I cared for. And a squinting dog--a dog that squints! I mean +that's a bit <i>too</i> much. Eh? What?' He gulped and half rose, +and I thought that the full tide of delirium would be on him in +another sentence.</p> +<p>'Not a bit of it,' I said as a last chance, with my hand over +the bellpush. 'Why, you've just proved that I know him; so there +are two of us in the game, anyhow.'</p> +<p>'By Jove! that <i>is</i> an idea! Of course there are. I knew +you'd see me through. We'll defeat them yet. Hi, pup!... He's gone. +Absolutely disappeared!' He sighed with relief, and I caught the +lucky moment.</p> +<p>'Good business! I expect he only came to have a look at me,' I +said. 'Now, get this drink down and turn in to the lower bunk.'</p> +<p>He obeyed, protesting that he could not inconvenience me, and in +the midst of apologies sank into a dead sleep. I expected a wakeful +night, having a certain amount to think over; but no sooner had I +scrambled into the top bunk than sleep came on me like a wave from +the other side of the world.</p> +<p>In the morning there were apologies, which we got over at +breakfast before our party were about.</p> +<p>'I suppose--after this--well, I don't blame you. I'm rather a +lonely chap, though.' His eyes lifted dog-like across the +table.</p> +<p>'Shend,' I replied, 'I'm not running a Sunday school. You're +coming home with me in my car as soon as we land.'</p> +<p>'That is kind of you--kinder than you think.'</p> +<p>'That's because you're a little jumpy still. Now, I don't want +to mix up in your private affairs--'</p> +<p>'But I'd like you to,' he interrupted.</p> +<p>'Then, would you mind telling me the Christian name of a girl +who was insulted by a man called Clements?'</p> +<p>'Moira,' he whispered; and just then Mrs. Godfrey and Milly came +to table with their shore-going hats on.</p> +<p>We did not tie up till noon, but the faithful Leggatt had +intrigued his way down to the dock-edge, and beside him sat +Malachi, wearing his collar of gold, or Leggatt makes it look so, +as eloquent as Demosthenes. Shend flinched a little when he saw +him. We packed Mrs. Godfrey and Milly into Attley's car--they were +going with him to Mittleham, of course--and drew clear across the +railway lines to find England all lit and perfumed for spring. +Shend sighed with happiness.</p> +<p>'D'you know,' he said, 'if--if you'd chucked me--I should have +gone down to my cabin after breakfast and cut my throat. And +now--it's like a dream--a good dream, you know.'</p> +<p>We lunched with the other three at Romsey. Then I sat in front +for a little while to talk to my Malachi. When I looked back, Shend +was solidly asleep, and stayed so for the next two hours, while +Leggatt chased Attley's fat Daimler along the green-speckled +hedges. He woke up when we said good-bye at Mittleham, with +promises to meet again very soon.</p> +<p>'And I hope,' said Mrs. Godfrey, 'that everything pleasant will +happen to you.'</p> +<p>'Heaps and heaps--all at once,' cried long, weak Milly, waving +her wet handkerchief.</p> +<p>'I've just got to look in at a house near here for a minute to +inquire about a dog,' I said, 'and then we will go home.'</p> +<p>'I used to know this part of the world,' he replied, and said no +more till Leggatt shot past the lodge at the Sichliffes's gate. +Then I heard him gasp.</p> +<p>Miss Sichliffe, in a green waterproof, an orange jersey, and a +pinkish leather hat, was working on a bulb-border. She straightened +herself as the car stopped, and breathed hard. Shend got out and +walked towards her. They shook hands, turned round together, and +went into the house. Then the dog Harvey pranced out corkily from +under the lee of a bench. Malachi, with one joyous swoop, fell on +him as an enemy and an equal. Harvey, for his part, freed from all +burden whatsoever except the obvious duty of a man-dog on his own +ground, met Malachi without reserve or remorse, and with six +months' additional growth to come and go on.</p> +<p>'Don't check 'em!' cried Leggatt, dancing round the flurry. +'They've both been saving up for each other all this time. It'll do +'em worlds of good.'</p> +<p>'Leggatt,' I said, 'will you take Mr. Shend's bag and suitcase +up to the house and put them down just inside the door? Then we +will go on.'</p> +<p>So I enjoyed the finish alone. It was a dead heat, and they +licked each other's jaws in amity till Harvey, one imploring eye on +me, leaped into the front seat, and Malachi backed his appeal. It +was theft, but I took him, and we talked all the way home of r-rats +and r-rabbits and bones and baths and the other basic facts of +life. That evening after dinner they slept before the fire, with +their warm chins across the hollows of my ankles--to each chin an +ankle--till I kicked them upstairs to bed.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>I was not at Mittleham when she came over to announce her +engagement, but I heard of it when Mrs. Godfrey and Attley came, +forty miles an hour, over to me, and Mrs. Godfrey called me names +of the worst for suppression of information.</p> +<p>'As long as it wasn't me, I don't care,' said Attley.</p> +<p>'I believe you knew it all along,' Mrs. Godfrey repeated. 'Else +what made you drive that man literally into her arms?'</p> +<p>'To ask after the dog Harvey,' I replied.</p> +<p>'Then, what's the beast doing here?' Attley demanded, for +Malachi and the dog Harvey were deep in a council of the family +with Bettina, who was being out-argued.</p> +<p>'Oh, Harvey seemed to think himself <i>de trop</i> where he +was,' I said. 'And she hasn't sent after him. You'd better save +Bettina before they kill her.'</p> +<p>'There's been enough lying about that dog,' said Mrs. Godfrey to +me. 'If he wasn't born in lies, he was baptized in 'em. D'you know +why she called him Harvey? It only occurred to me in those dreadful +days when I was ill, and one can't keep from thinking, and thinks +everything. D'you know your Boswell? What did Johnson say about +Hervey--with an e?'</p> +<p>'Oh, <i>that's</i> it, is it?' I cried incautiously. 'That was +why I ought to have verified my quotations. The spelling defeated +me. Wait a moment, and it will come back. Johnson said: "He was a +vicious man,"' I began.</p> +<p>'"But very kind to me,"' Mrs. Godfrey prompted. Then, both +together, '"If you call a dog Hervey, I shall love him."'</p> +<p>'So you <i>were</i> mixed up in it. At any rate, you had your +suspicions from the first? Tell me,' she said.</p> +<p>'Ella,' I said, 'I don't know anything rational or reasonable +about any of it. It was all--all woman-work, and it scared me +horribly.'</p> +<p>'Why?' she asked.</p> +<p>That was six years ago. I have written this tale to let her +know--wherever she may be.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page160"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>THE COMFORTERS</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Until thy feet have trod the Road</p> +<p class="i8">Advise not wayside folk,</p> +<p class="i7">Nor till thy back has borne the Load</p> +<p class="i8">Break in upon the Broke.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Chase not with undesired largesse</p> +<p class="i8">Of sympathy the heart</p> +<p class="i7">Which, knowing her own bitterness,</p> +<p class="i8">Presumes to dwell apart.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Employ not that glad hand to raise</p> +<p class="i8">The God-forgotten head</p> +<p class="i7">To Heaven, and all the neighbours' gaze--</p> +<p class="i8">Cover thy mouth instead.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">The quivering chin, the bitten lip,</p> +<p class="i8">The cold and sweating brow,</p> +<p class="i7">Later may yearn for fellowship--</p> +<p class="i8">Not now, you ass, not now!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Time, not thy ne'er so timely speech,</p> +<p class="i8">Life, not thy views thereon,</p> +<p class="i7">Shall furnish or deny to each</p> +<p class="i8">His consolation.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Or, if impelled to interfere,</p> +<p class="i8">Exhort, uplift, advise,</p> +<p class="i7">Lend not a base, betraying ear</p> +<p class="i8">To all the victim's cries.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Only the Lord can understand</p> +<p class="i8">When those first pangs begin,</p> +<p class="i7">How much is reflex action and</p> +<p class="i8">How much is really sin.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">E'en from good words thyself refrain,</p> +<p class="i8">And tremblingly admit</p> +<p class="i7">There is no anodyne for pain</p> +<p class="i8">Except the shock of it.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">So, when thine own dark hour shall fall,</p> +<p class="i8">Unchallenged canst thou say:</p> +<p class="i7">'I never worried <i>you</i> at all,</p> +<p class="i8">For God's sake go away!'</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page163"></a> +<h2>The Village that Voted the Earth was Flat</h2> +<h3>(1913)</h3> +<br> +<p>Our drive till then had been quite a success. The other men in +the car were my friend Woodhouse, young Ollyett, a distant +connection of his, and Pallant, the M.P. Woodhouse's business was +the treatment and cure of sick journals. He knew by instinct the +precise moment in a newspaper's life when the impetus of past good +management is exhausted and it fetches up on the dead-centre +between slow and expensive collapse and the new start which can be +given by gold injections--and genius. He was wisely ignorant of +journalism; but when he stooped on a carcase there was sure to be +meat. He had that week added a half-dead, halfpenny evening paper +to his collection, which consisted of a prosperous London daily, +one provincial ditto, and a limp-bodied weekly of commercial +leanings. He had also, that very hour, planted me with a large +block of the evening paper's common shares, and was explaining the +whole art of editorship to Ollyett, a young man three years from +Oxford, with coir-matting-coloured hair and a face harshly modelled +by harsh experiences, who, I understood, was assisting in the new +venture. Pallant, the long, wrinkled M.P., whose voice is more like +a crane's than a peacock's, took no shares, but gave us all +advice.</p> +<p>'You'll find it rather a knacker's yard,' Woodhouse was saying. +'Yes, I know they call me The Knacker; but it will pay inside a +year. All my papers do. I've only one motto: Back your luck and +back your staff. It'll come out all right.'</p> +<p>Then the car stopped, and a policeman asked our names and +addresses for exceeding the speed-limit. We pointed out that the +road ran absolutely straight for half a mile ahead without even a +side-lane. 'That's just what we depend on,' said the policeman +unpleasantly.</p> +<p>'The usual swindle,' said Woodhouse under his breath. 'What's +the name of this place?'</p> +<p>'Huckley,' said the policeman. 'H-u-c-k-l-e-y,' and wrote +something in his note-book at which young Ollyett protested. A +large red man on a grey horse who had been watching us from the +other side of the hedge shouted an order we could not catch. The +policeman laid his hand on the rim of the right driving-door +(Woodhouse carries his spare tyres aft), and it closed on the +button of the electric horn. The grey horse at once bolted, and we +could hear the rider swearing all across the landscape.</p> +<p>'Damn it, man, you've got your silly fist on it! Take it off!' +Woodhouse shouted.</p> +<p>'Ho!' said the constable, looking carefully at his fingers as +though we had trapped them. 'That won't do you any good either,' +and he wrote once more in his note-book before he allowed us to +go.</p> +<p>This was Woodhouse's first brush with motor law, and since I +expected no ill consequences to myself, I pointed out that it was +very serious. I took the same view myself when in due time I found +that I, too, was summonsed on charges ranging from the use of +obscene language to endangering traffic.</p> +<p>Judgment was done in a little pale-yellow market-town with a +small, Jubilee clock-tower and a large corn-exchange. Woodhouse +drove us there in his car. Pallant, who had not been included in +the summons, came with us as moral support. While we waited +outside, the fat man on the grey horse rode up and entered into +loud talk with his brother magistrates. He said to one of them--for +I took the trouble to note it down--'It falls away from my +lodge-gates, dead straight, three-quarters of a mile. I'd defy any +one to resist it. We rooked seventy pounds out of 'em last month. +No car can resist the temptation. You ought to have one your side +the county, Mike. They simply can't resist it.'</p> +<p>'Whew!' said Woodhouse. 'We're in for trouble. Don't you say a +word--or Ollyett either! I'll pay the fines and we'll get it over +as soon as possible. Where's Pallant?'</p> +<p>'At the back of the court somewhere,' said Ollyett. 'I saw him +slip in just now.'</p> +<p>The fat man then took his seat on the Bench, of which he was +chairman, and I gathered from a bystander that his name was Sir +Thomas Ingell, Bart., M.P., of Ingell Park, Huckley. He began with +an allocution pitched in a tone that would have justified revolt +throughout empires. Evidence, when the crowded little court did not +drown it with applause, was given in the pauses of the address. +They were all very proud of their Sir Thomas, and looked from him +to us, wondering why we did not applaud too.</p> +<p>Taking its time from the chairman, the Bench rollicked with us +for seventeen minutes. Sir Thomas explained that he was sick and +tired of processions of cads of our type, who would be better +employed breaking stones on the road than in frightening horses +worth more than themselves or their ancestors. This was after it +had been proved that Woodhouse's man had turned on the horn +purposely to annoy Sir Thomas, who happened to be riding by'! There +were other remarks too--primitive enough,--but it was the +unspeakable brutality of the tone, even more than the quality of +the justice, or the laughter of the audience that stung our souls +out of all reason. When we were dismissed--to the tune of +twenty-three pounds, twelve shillings and sixpence--we waited for +Pallant to join us, while we listened to the next case--one of +driving without a licence. Ollyett with an eye to his evening +paper, had already taken very full notes of our own, but we did not +wish to seem prejudiced.</p> +<p>'It's all right,' said the reporter of the local paper +soothingly. 'We never report Sir Thomas <i>in extenso</i>. Only the +fines and charges.'</p> +<p>'Oh, thank you,' Ollyett replied, and I heard him ask who every +one in court might be. The local reporter was very +communicative.</p> +<p>The new victim, a large, flaxen-haired man in somewhat striking +clothes, to which Sir Thomas, now thoroughly warmed, drew public +attention, said that he had left his licence at home. Sir Thomas +asked him if he expected the police to go to his home address at +Jerusalem to find it for him; and the court roared. Nor did Sir +Thomas approve of the man's name, but insisted on calling him 'Mr. +Masquerader,' and every time he did so, all his people shouted. +Evidently this was their established <i>auto-da-fé</i>.</p> +<p>'He didn't summons me--because I'm in the House, I suppose. I +think I shall have to ask a Question,' said Pallant, reappearing at +the close of the case.</p> +<p>'I think <i>I</i> shall have to give it a little publicity too,' +said Woodhouse. 'We can't have this kind of thing going on, you +know.' His face was set and quite white. Pallant's, on the other +hand, was black, and I know that my very stomach had turned with +rage. Ollyett was dum.</p> +<p>'Well, let's have lunch,' Woodhouse said at last. 'Then we can +get away before the show breaks up.'</p> +<p>We drew Ollyett from the arms of the local reporter, crossed the +Market Square to the Red Lion and found Sir Thomas's 'Mr. +Masquerader' just sitting down to beer, beef and pickles.</p> +<p>'Ah!' said he, in a large voice. 'Companions in misfortune. +Won't you gentlemen join me?'</p> +<p>'Delighted,' said Woodhouse. 'What did you get?'</p> +<p>'I haven't decided. It might make a good turn, but--the public +aren't educated up to it yet. It's beyond 'em. If it wasn't, that +red dub on the Bench would be worth fifty a week.'</p> +<p>'Where?' said Woodhouse. The man looked at him with unaffected +surprise.</p> +<p>'At any one of My places,' he replied. 'But perhaps you live +here?'</p> +<p>'Good heavens!' cried young Ollyett suddenly. 'You <i>are</i> +Masquerier, then? I thought you were!'</p> +<p>'Bat Masquerier.' He let the words fall with the weight of an +international ultimatum. 'Yes, that's all I am. But you have the +advantage of me, gentlemen.'</p> +<p>For the moment, while we were introducing ourselves, I was +puzzled. Then I recalled prismatic music-hall posters--of enormous +acreage--that had been the unnoticed background of my visits to +London for years past. Posters of men and women, singers, +jongleurs, impersonators and audacities of every draped and +undraped brand, all moved on and off in London and the Provinces by +Bat Masquerier--with the long wedge-tailed flourish following the +final 'r.'</p> +<p>'<i>I</i> knew you at once,' said Pallant, the trained M.P., and +I promptly backed the lie. Woodhouse mumbled excuses. Bat +Masquerier was not moved for or against us any more than the +frontage of one of his own palaces.</p> +<p>'I always tell My people there's a limit to the size of the +lettering,' he said. 'Overdo that and the ret'na doesn't take it +in. Advertisin' is the most delicate of all the sciences.'</p> +<p>'There's one man in the world who is going to get a little of it +if I live for the next twenty-four hours,' said Woodhouse, and +explained how this would come about.</p> +<p>Masquerier stared at him lengthily with gunmetal-blue eyes.</p> +<p>'You mean it?' he drawled; the voice was as magnetic as the +look.</p> +<p>'<i>I</i> do,' said Ollyett. 'That business of the horn alone +ought to have him off the Bench in three months.' Masquerier looked +at him even longer than he had looked at Woodhouse.</p> +<p>'He told <i>me</i>,' he said suddenly, 'that my home-address was +Jerusalem. You heard that?'</p> +<p>'But it was the tone--the tone,' Ollyett cried.</p> +<p>'You noticed that, too, did you?' said Masquerier. 'That's the +artistic temperament. You can do a lot with it. And I'm Bat +Masquerier,' he went on. He dropped his chin in his fists and +scowled straight in front of him.... 'I made the Silhouettes--I +made the Trefoil and the Jocunda. I made 'Dal Benzaguen.' Here +Ollyett sat straight up, for in common with the youth of that year +he worshipped Miss Vidal Benzaguen of the Trefoil immensely and +unreservedly. '"<i>Is</i> that a dressing-gown or an ulster you're +supposed to be wearing?" You heard <i>that</i>?... "And I suppose +you hadn't time to brush your hair either?" You heard +<i>that</i>?... Now, you hear <i>me</i>!' His voice filled the +coffee-room, then dropped to a whisper as dreadful as a surgeon's +before an operation. He spoke for several minutes. Pallant muttered +'Hear! hear!' I saw Ollyett's eye flash--it was to Ollyett that +Masquerier addressed himself chiefly,--and Woodhouse leaned forward +with joined hands.</p> +<p>'Are you <i>with</i> me?' he went on, gathering us all up in one +sweep of the arm. 'When I begin a thing I see it through, +gentlemen. What Bat can't break, breaks him! But I haven't struck +that thing yet. This is no one-turn turn-it-down show. This is +business to the dead finish. Are you with me, gentlemen? Good! Now, +we'll pool our assets. One London morning, and one provincial +daily, didn't you say? One weekly commercial ditto and one +M.P.'</p> +<p>'Not much use, I'm afraid,' Pallant smirked.</p> +<p>'But privileged. <i>But</i> privileged,' he returned. 'And we +have also my little team--London, Blackburn, Liverpool, Leeds--I'll +tell you about Manchester later--and Me! Bat Masquerier.' He +breathed the name reverently into his tankard. 'Gentlemen, when our +combination has finished with Sir Thomas Ingell, Bart., M.P., and +everything else that is his, Sodom and Gomorrah will be a winsome +bit of Merrie England beside 'em. I must go back to town now, but I +trust you gentlemen will give me the pleasure of your company at +dinner to-night at the Chop Suey--the Red Amber Room--and we'll +block out the scenario.' He laid his hand on young Ollyett's +shoulder and added: 'It's your brains I want.' Then he left, in a +good deal of astrachan collar and nickel-plated limousine, and the +place felt less crowded.</p> +<p>We ordered our car a few minutes later. As Woodhouse, Ollyett +and I were getting in, Sir Thomas Ingell, Bart., M.P., came out of +the Hall of Justice across the square and mounted his horse. I have +sometimes thought that if he had gone in silence he might even then +have been saved, but as he settled himself in the saddle he caught +sight of us and must needs shout: 'Not off yet? You'd better get +away and you'd better be careful.' At that moment Pallant, who had +been buying picture-postcards, came out of the inn, took Sir +Thomas's eye and very leisurely entered the car. It seemed to me +that for one instant there was a shade of uneasiness on the +baronet's grey-whiskered face.</p> +<p>'I hope,' said Woodhouse after several miles, 'I hope he's a +widower.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Pallant. 'For his poor, dear wife's sake I hope +that, very much indeed. I suppose he didn't see me in Court. Oh, +here's the parish history of Huckley written by the Rector and +here's your share of the picture-postcards. Are we all dining with +this Mr. Masquerier to-night?'</p> +<p>'Yes!' said we all.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>If Woodhouse knew nothing of journalism, young Ollyett, who had +graduated in a hard school, knew a good deal. Our halfpenny evening +paper, which we will call <i>The Bun</i> to distinguish her from +her prosperous morning sister, <i>The Cake</i>, was not only +diseased but corrupt. We found this out when a man brought us the +prospectus of a new oil-field and demanded sub-leaders on its +prosperity. Ollyett talked pure Brasenose to him for three minutes. +Otherwise he spoke and wrote trade-English--a toothsome amalgam of +Americanisms and epigrams. But though the slang changes the game +never alters, and Ollyett and I and, in the end, some others +enjoyed it immensely. It was weeks ere we could see the wood for +the trees, but so soon as the staff realised that they had +proprietors who backed them right or wrong, and specially when they +were wrong (which is the sole secret of journalism), and that their +fate did not hang on any passing owner's passing mood, they did +miracles.</p> +<p>But we did not neglect Huckley. As Ollyett said our first care +was to create an 'arresting atmosphere' round it. He used to visit +the village of week-ends, on a motor-bicycle with a side-car; for +which reason I left the actual place alone and dealt with it in the +abstract. Yet it was I who drew first blood. Two inhabitants of +Huckley wrote to contradict a small, quite solid paragraph in +<i>The Bun</i> that a hoopoe had been seen at Huckley and had, 'of +course, been shot by the local sportsmen.' There was some heat in +their letters, both of which we published. Our version of how the +hoopoe got his crest from King Solomon was, I grieve to say, so +inaccurate that the Rector himself--no sportsman as he pointed out, +but a lover of accuracy--wrote to us to correct it. We gave his +letter good space and thanked him.</p> +<p>'This priest is going to be useful,' said Ollyett. 'He has the +impartial mind. I shall vitalise him.'</p> +<p>Forthwith he created M.L. Sigden, a recluse of refined tastes +who in <i>The Bun</i> demanded to know whether this +Huckley-of-the-Hoopoe was the Hugly of his boyhood and whether, by +any chance, the fell change of name had been wrought by collusion +between a local magnate and the railway, in the mistaken interests +of spurious refinement. 'For I knew it and loved it with the +maidens of my day--<i>eheu ab angulo!</i>--as Hugly,' wrote M.L. +Sigden from Oxf.</p> +<p>Though other papers scoffed, <i>The Bun</i> was gravely +sympathetic. Several people wrote to deny that Huckley had been +changed at birth. Only the Rector--no philosopher as he pointed +out, but a lover of accuracy--had his doubts, which he laid +publicly before Mr. M.L. Sigden who suggested, through <i>The +Bun</i>, that the little place might have begun life in Anglo-Saxon +days as 'Hogslea' or among the Normans as 'Argilé,' on +account of its much clay. The Rector had his own ideas too (he said +it was mostly gravel), and M.L. Sigden had a fund of reminiscences. +Oddly enough--which is seldom the case with free +reading-matter--our subscribers rather relished the correspondence, +and contemporaries quoted freely.</p> +<p>'The secret of power,' said Ollyett, 'is not the big stick. It's +the liftable stick.' (This means the 'arresting' quotation of six +or seven lines.) 'Did you see the <i>Spec.</i> had a middle on +"Rural Tenacities" last week. That was all Huckley. I'm doing a +"Mobiquity" on Huckley next week.'</p> +<p>Our 'Mobiquities' were Friday evening accounts of easy +motor-bike-<i>cum</i>-side-car trips round London, illustrated (we +could never get that machine to work properly) by smudgy maps. +Ollyett wrote the stuff with a fervour and a delicacy which I +always ascribed to the side-car. His account of Epping Forest, for +instance, was simply young love with its soul at its lips. But his +Huckley 'Mobiquity' would have sickened a soap-boiler. It +chemically combined loathsome familiarity, leering suggestion, +slimy piety and rancid 'social service' in one fuming compost that +fairly lifted me off my feet.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said he, after compliments. 'It's the most vital, +arresting and dynamic bit of tump I've done up to date. <i>Non +nobis gloria!</i> I met Sir Thomas Ingell in his own park. He +talked to me again. He inspired most of it.'</p> +<p>'Which? The "glutinous native drawl," or "the neglected adenoids +of the village children"?' I demanded.</p> +<p>'Oh, no! That's only to bring in the panel doctor. It's the last +flight we--I'm proudest of.'</p> +<p>This dealt with 'the crepuscular penumbra spreading her dim +limbs over the boskage'; with 'jolly rabbits'; with a herd of +'gravid polled Angus'; and with the 'arresting, gipsy-like face of +their swart, scholarly owner--as well known at the Royal +Agricultural Shows as that of our late King-Emperor.'</p> +<p>'"Swart" is good and so's "gravid,"' said I, 'but the panel +doctor will be annoyed about the adenoids.'</p> +<p>'Not half as much as Sir Thomas will about his face,' said +Ollyett. 'And if you only knew what I've left out!'</p> +<p>He was right. The panel doctor spent his week-end (this is the +advantage of Friday articles) in overwhelming us with a +professional counterblast of no interest whatever to our +subscribers. We told him so, and he, then and there, battered his +way with it into the <i>Lancet</i> where they are keen on glands, +and forgot us altogether. But Sir Thomas Ingell was of sterner +stuff. He must have spent a happy week-end too. The letter which we +received from him on Monday proved him to be a kinless loon of +upright life, for no woman, however remotely interested in a man +would have let it pass the home wastepaper-basket. He objected to +our references to his own herd, to his own labours in his own +village, which he said was a Model Village, and to our infernal +insolence; but he objected most to our invoice of his features. We +wrote him courtously to ask whether the letter was meant for +publication. He, remembering, I presume, the Duke of Wellington, +wrote back, 'publish and be damned.'</p> +<p>'Oh! This is too easy,' Ollyett said as he began heading the +letter.</p> +<p>'Stop a minute,' I said. 'The game is getting a little beyond +us. To-night's the Bat dinner.' (I may have forgotten to tell you +that our dinner with Bat Masquerier in the Red Amber Room of the +Chop Suey had come to be a weekly affair.) 'Hold it over till +they've all seen it.'</p> +<p>'Perhaps you're right,' he said. 'You might waste it.'</p> +<p>At dinner, then, Sir Thomas's letter was handed round. Bat +seemed to be thinking of other matters, but Pallant was very +interested.</p> +<p>'I've got an idea,' he said presently. 'Could you put something +into <i>The Bun</i> to-morrow about foot-and-mouth disease in that +fellow's herd?'</p> +<p>'Oh, plague if you like,' Ollyett replied. 'They're only five +measly Shorthorns. I saw one lying down in the park. She'll serve +as a sub-stratum of fact.'</p> +<p>'Then, do that; and hold the letter over meanwhile. I think +<i>I</i> come in here,' said Pallant.</p> +<p>'Why?' said I.</p> +<p>'Because there's something coming up in the House about +foot-and-mouth, and because he wrote me a letter after that little +affair when he fined you. 'Took ten days to think it over. Here you +are,' said Pallant. 'House of Commons paper, you see.'</p> +<p>We read:</p> +<blockquote>DEAR PALLANT--Although in the past our paths have not +lain much together, I am sure you will agree with me that on the +floor of the House all members are on a footing of equality. I make +bold, therefore, to approach you in a matter which I think capable +of a very different interpretation from that which perhaps was put +upon it by your friends. Will you let them know that that was the +case and that I was in no way swayed by animus in the exercise of +my magisterial duties, which as you, as a brother magistrate, can +imagine are frequently very distasteful to--Yours very +sincerely,</blockquote> +<p class="loc">T. INGELL.</p> +<br> +<blockquote><i>P.S.</i>--I have seen to it that the motor vigilance +to which your friends took exception has been considerably relaxed +in my district.</blockquote> +<p>'What did you answer?' said Ollyett, when all our opinions had +been expressed.</p> +<p>'I told him I couldn't do anything in the matter. And I +couldn't--then. But you'll remember to put in that foot-and-mouth +paragraph. I want something to work upon.'</p> +<p>'It seems to me <i>The Bun</i> has done all the work up to +date,' I suggested. 'When does <i>The Cake</i> come in?'</p> +<p>'<i>The Cake</i>,' said Woodhouse, and I remembered afterwards +that he spoke like a Cabinet Minister on the eve of a Budget, +'reserves to itself the fullest right to deal with situations as +they arise.'</p> +<p>'Ye-eh!' Bat Masquerier shook himself out of his thoughts. +'"Situations as they arise." I ain't idle either. But there's no +use fishing till the swim's baited. You'--he turned to +Ollyett--'manufacture very good ground-bait.... I always tell My +people--What the deuce is that?'</p> +<p>There was a burst of song from another private dining-room +across the landing. 'It ees some ladies from the Trefoil,' the +waiter began.</p> +<p>'Oh, I know that. What are they singing, though?'</p> +<p>He rose and went out, to be greeted by shouts of applause from +that merry company. Then there was silence, such as one hears in +the form-room after a master's entry. Then a voice that we loved +began again: 'Here we go gathering nuts in May--nuts in May--nuts +in May!'</p> +<p>'It's only 'Dal--and some nuts,' he explained when he returned. +'She says she's coming in to dessert.' He sat down, humming the old +tune to himself, and till Miss Vidal Benzaguen entered, he held us +speechless with tales of the artistic temperament.</p> +<p>We obeyed Pallant to the extent of slipping into <i>The Bun</i> +a wary paragraph about cows lying down and dripping at the mouth, +which might be read either as an unkind libel or, in the hands of a +capable lawyer, as a piece of faithful nature-study.</p> +<p>'And besides,' said Ollyett, 'we allude to "gravid polled +Angus." I am advised that no action can lie in respect of virgin +Shorthorns. Pallant wants us to come to the House to-night. He's +got us places for the Strangers' Gallery. I'm beginning to like +Pallant.'</p> +<p>'Masquerier seems to like you,' I said.</p> +<p>'Yes, but I'm afraid of him,' Ollyett answered with perfect +sincerity. 'I am. He's the Absolutely Amoral Soul. I've never met +one yet.'</p> +<p>We went to the House together. It happened to be an Irish +afternoon, and as soon as I had got the cries and the faces a +little sorted out, I gathered there were grievances in the air, but +how many of them was beyond me.</p> +<p>'It's all right,' said Ollyett of the trained ear. 'They've shut +their ports against--oh yes--export of Irish cattle! Foot-and-mouth +disease at Ballyhellion. <i>I</i> see Pallant's idea!'</p> +<p>The House was certainly all mouth for the moment, but, as I +could feel, quite in earnest. A Minister with a piece of +typewritten paper seemed to be fending off volleys of insults. He +reminded me somehow of a nervous huntsman breaking up a fox in the +face of rabid hounds.</p> +<p>'It's question-time. They're asking questions,' said Ollyett. +'Look! Pallant's up.'</p> +<p>There was no mistaking it. His voice, which his enemies said was +his one parliamentary asset, silenced the hubbub as toothache +silences mere singing in the ears. He said:</p> +<p>'Arising out of that, may I ask if any special consideration has +recently been shown in regard to any suspected outbreak of this +disease on <i>this</i> side of the Channel?'</p> +<p>He raised his hand; it held a noon edition of <i>The Bun</i>. We +had thought it best to drop the paragraph out of the later ones. He +would have continued, but something in a grey frock-coat roared and +bounded on a bench opposite, and waved another <i>Bun</i>. It was +Sir Thomas Ingell.</p> +<p>'As the owner of the herd so dastardly implicated--' His voice +was drowned in shouts of 'Order!'--the Irish leading.</p> +<p>'What's wrong?' I asked Ollyett. 'He's got his hat on his head, +hasn't he?'</p> +<p>'Yes, but his wrath should have been put as a question.'</p> +<p>'Arising out of that, Mr. Speaker, Sirrr!' Sir Thomas bellowed +through a lull, 'are you aware that--that all this is a +conspiracy--part of a dastardly conspiracy to make Huckley +ridiculous--to make <i>us</i> ridiculous? Part of a deep-laid plot +to make <i>me</i> ridiculous, Mr. Speaker, Sir!'</p> +<p>The man's face showed almost black against his white whiskers, +and he struck out swimmingly with his arms. His vehemence puzzled +and held the House for an instant, and the Speaker took advantage +of it to lift his pack from Ireland to a new scent. He addressed +Sir Thomas Ingell in tones of measured rebuke, meant also, I +imagine, for the whole House, which lowered its hackles at the +word. Then Pallant, shocked and pained: 'I can only express my +profound surprise that in response to my simple question the +honourable member should have thought fit to indulge in a personal +attack. If I have in any way offended--'</p> +<p>Again the Speaker intervened, for it appeared that he regulated +these matters.</p> +<p>He, too, expressed surprise, and Sir Thomas sat back in a hush +of reprobation that seemed to have the chill of the centuries +behind it. The Empire's work was resumed.</p> +<p>'Beautiful!' said I, and I felt hot and cold up my back.</p> +<p>'And now we'll publish his letter,' said Ollyett.</p> +<p>We did--on the heels of his carefully reported outburst. We made +no comment. With that rare instinct for grasping the heart of a +situation which is the mark of the Anglo-Saxon, all our +contemporaries and, I should say, two-thirds of our correspondents +demanded how such a person could be made more ridiculous than he +had already proved himself to be. But beyond spelling his name +'Injle,' we alone refused to hit a man when he was down.</p> +<p>'There's no need,' said Ollyett. 'The whole press is on the +huckle from end to end.'</p> +<p>Even Woodhouse was a little astonished at the ease with which it +had come about, and said as much.</p> +<p>'Rot!' said Ollyett. 'We haven't really begun. Huckley isn't +news yet.'</p> +<p>'What do you mean?' said Woodhouse, who had grown to have great +respect for his young but by no means distant connection.</p> +<p>'Mean? By the grace of God, Master Ridley, I mean to have it so +that when Huckley turns over in its sleep, Reuters and the Press +Association jump out of bed to cable.' Then he went off at score +about certain restorations in Huckley Church which, he said--and he +seemed to spend his every week-end there--had been perpetrated by +the Rector's predecessor, who had abolished a 'leper-window' or a +'squinch-hole' (whatever these may be) to institute a lavatory in +the vestry. It did not strike me as stuff for which Reuters or the +Press Association would lose much sleep, and I left him declaiming +to Woodhouse about a fourteenth-century font which, he said, he had +unearthed in the sexton's tool-shed.</p> +<p>My methods were more on the lines of peaceful penetration. An +odd copy, in <i>The Bun's</i> rag-and-bone library, of Hone's +<i>Every-Day Book</i> had revealed to me the existence of a village +dance founded, like all village dances, on Druidical mysteries +connected with the Solar Solstice (which is always unchallengeable) +and Mid-summer Morning, which is dewy and refreshing to the London +eye. For this I take no credit--Hone being a mine any one can +work--but that I rechristened that dance, after I had revised it, +'The Gubby' is my title to immortal fame. It was still to be +witnessed, I wrote, 'in all its poignant purity at Huckley, that +last home of significant mediæval survivals'; and I fell so +in love with my creation that I kept it back for days, enamelling +and burnishing.</p> +<p>'You's better put it in,' said Ollyett at last. 'It's time we +asserted ourselves again. The other fellows are beginning to poach. +You saw that thing in the <i>Pinnacle</i> about Sir Thomas's Model +Village? He must have got one of their chaps down to do it.'</p> +<p>''Nothing like the wounds of a friend,' I said. 'That account of +the non-alcoholic pub alone was--'</p> +<p>'I liked the bit best about the white-tiled laundry and the +Fallen Virgins who wash Sir Thomas's dress shirts. Our side +couldn't come within a mile of that, you know. We haven't the +proper flair for sexual slobber.'</p> +<p>'That's what I'm always saying,' I retorted. 'Leave 'em alone. +The other fellows are doing our work for us now. Besides I want to +touch up my "Gubby Dance" a little more.'</p> +<p>'No. You'll spoil it. Let's shove it in to-day. For one thing +it's Literature. I don't go in for compliments as you know, but, +etc. etc.'</p> +<p>I had a healthy suspicion of young Ollyett in every aspect, but +though I knew that I should have to pay for it, I fell to his +flattery, and my priceless article on the 'Gubby Dance' appeared. +Next Saturday he asked me to bring out <i>The Bun</i> in his +absence, which I naturally assumed would be connected with the +little maroon side-car. I was wrong.</p> +<p>On the following Monday I glanced at <i>The Cake</i> at +breakfast-time to make sure, as usual, of her inferiority to my +beloved but unremunerative <i>Bun</i>. I opened on a heading: 'The +Village that Voted the Earth was Flat.' I read ... I read that the +Geoplanarian Society--a society devoted to the proposition that the +earth is flat--had held its Annual Banquet and Exercises at Huckley +on Saturday, when after convincing addresses, amid scenes of the +greatest enthusiasm, Huckley village had decided by an unanimous +vote of 438 that the earth was flat. I do not remember that I +breathed again till I had finished the two columns of description +that followed. Only one man could have written them. They were +flawless--crisp, nervous, austere yet human, poignant, vital, +arresting--most distinctly arresting--dynamic enough to shift a +city--and quotable by whole sticks at a time. And there was a +leader, a grave and poised leader, which tore me in two with mirth, +until I remembered that I had been left out--infamously and +unjustifiably dropped. I went to Ollyett's rooms. He was +breakfasting, and, to do him justice, looked +conscience-stricken.</p> +<p>'It wasn't my fault,' he began. 'It was Bat Masquerier. I swear +<i>I</i> would have asked you to come if--'</p> +<p>'Never mind that,' I said. 'It's the best bit of work you've +ever done or will do. Did any of it happen?'</p> +<p>'Happen? Heavens! D'you think even <i>I</i> could have invented +it?'</p> +<p>'Is it exclusive to <i>The Cake</i>?' I cried.</p> +<p>'It cost Bat Masquerier two thousand,' Ollyett replied. 'D'you +think he'd let any one else in on that? But I give you my sacred +word I knew nothing about it till he asked me to come down and +cover it. He had Huckley posted in three colours, "The +Geoplanarians' Annual Banquet and Exercises." Yes, he invented +"Geoplanarians." He wanted Huckley to think it meant aeroplanes. +Yes, I know that there is a real Society that thinks the world's +flat--they ought to be grateful for the lift--but Bat made his own. +He did! He created the whole show, I tell you. He swept out half +his Halls for the job. Think of that--on a Saturday! They--we went +down in motor char-à-bancs--three of 'em--one pink, one +primrose, and one forget-me-not blue--twenty people in each one and +"The Earth <i>is</i> Flat" on each side and across the back. I went +with Teddy Rickets and Lafone from the Trefoil, and both the +Silhouette Sisters, and--wait a minute!--the Crossleigh Trio. You +know the Every-Day Dramas Trio at the Jocunda--Ada Crossleigh, +"Bunt" Crossleigh, and little Victorine? Them. And there was Hoke +Ramsden, the lightning-change chap in <i>Morgiana and +Drexel</i>--and there was Billy Turpeen. Yes, you know him! The +North London Star. "I'm the Referee that got himself disliked at +Blackheath." <i>That</i> chap! And there was Mackaye--that one-eyed +Scotch fellow that all Glasgow is crazy about. Talk of +subordinating yourself for Art's sake! Mackaye was the earnest +inquirer who got converted at the end of the meeting. And there was +quite a lot of girls I didn't know, and--oh, yes--there was 'Dal! +'Dal Benzaguen herself! We sat together, going and coming. She's +all the darling there ever was. She sent you her love, and she told +me to tell you that she won't forget about Nellie Farren. She says +you've given her an ideal to work for. She? Oh, she was the Lady +Secretary to the Geoplanarians, of course. I forget who were in the +other brakes--provincial stars mostly--but they played up +gorgeously. The art of the music-hall's changed since your day. +They didn't overdo it a bit. You see, people who believe the earth +is flat don't dress quite like other people. You may have noticed +that I hinted at that in my account. It's a rather flat-fronted +Ionic style--neo-Victorian, except for the bustles, 'Dal told +me,--but 'Dal looked heavenly in it! So did little Victorine. And +there was a girl in the blue brake--she's a provincial--but she's +coming to town this winter and she'll knock 'em--Winnie Deans. +Remember that! She told Huckley how she had suffered for the Cause +as a governess in a rich family where they believed that the world +is round, and how she threw up her job sooner than teach immoral +geography. That was at the overflow meeting outside the Baptist +chapel. She knocked 'em to sawdust! We must look out for Winnie.... +But Lafone! Lafone was beyond everything. Impact, +personality--conviction--the whole bag o' tricks! He sweated +conviction. Gad, he convinced <i>me</i> while he was speaking! +(Him? He was President of the Geoplanarians, of course. Haven't you +read my account?) It <i>is</i> an infernally plausible theory. +After all, no one has actually proved the earth is round, have +they?'</p> +<p>'Never mind the earth. What about Huckley?'</p> +<p>'Oh, Huckley got tight. That's the worst of these model villages +if you let 'em smell fire-water. There's one alcoholic pub in the +place that Sir Thomas can't get rid of. Bat made it his base. He +sent down the banquet in two motor lorries--dinner for five hundred +and drinks for ten thousand. Huckley voted all right. Don't you +make any mistake about that. No vote, no dinner. A unanimous +vote--exactly as I've said. At least, the Rector and the Doctor +were the only dissentients. We didn't count them. Oh yes, Sir +Thomas was there. He came and grinned at us through his park gates. +He'll grin worse to-day. There's an aniline dye that you rub +through a stencil-plate that eats about a foot into any stone and +wears good to the last. Bat had both the lodge-gates stencilled +"The Earth <i>is</i> flat!" and all the barns and walls they could +get at.... Oh Lord, but Huckley was drunk! We had to fill 'em up to +make 'em forgive us for not being aeroplanes. Unthankful yokels! +D'you realise that Emperors couldn't have commanded the talent Bat +decanted on 'em? Why, 'Dal alone was.... And by eight o'clock not +even a bit of paper left! The whole show packed up and gone, and +Huckley hoo-raying for the earth being flat.'</p> +<p>'Very good,' I began. 'I am, as you know, a one-third proprietor +of <i>The Bun</i>.'</p> +<p>'I didn't forget that,' Ollyett interrupted. 'That was uppermost +in my mind all the time. I've got a special account for <i>The +Bun</i> to-day--it's an idyll--and just to show how I thought of +you, I told 'Dal, coming home, about your Gubby Dance, and she told +Winnie. Winnie came back in our char-à-banc. After a bit we +had to get out and dance it in a field. It's quite a dance the way +we did it--and Lafone invented a sort of gorilla lockstep +procession at the end. Bat had sent down a film-chap on the chance +of getting something. He was the son of a clergyman--a most dynamic +personality. He said there isn't anything for the cinema in +meetings <i>qua</i> meetings--they lack action. Films are a branch +of art by themselves. But he went wild over the Gubby. He said it +was like Peter's vision at Joppa. He took about a million feet of +it. Then I photoed it exclusive for <i>The Bun</i>. I've sent 'em +in already, only remember we must eliminate Winnie's left leg in +the first figure. It's too arresting.... And there you are! But I +tell you I'm afraid of Bat. That man's the Personal Devil. He did +it all. He didn't even come down himself. He said he'd distract his +people.'</p> +<p>'Why didn't he ask me to come?' I persisted.</p> +<p>'Because he said you'd distract me. He said he wanted my brains +on ice. He got 'em. I believe it's the best thing I've ever done.' +He reached for <i>The Cake</i> and re-read it luxuriously. 'Yes, +out and away the best--supremely quotable,' he concluded, +and--after another survey--'By God, what a genius I was +yesterday!'</p> +<p>I would have been angry, but I had not the time. That morning, +Press agencies grovelled to me in <i>The Bun</i> office for leave +to use certain photos, which, they understood, I controlled, of a +certain village dance. When I had sent the fifth man away on the +edge of tears, my self-respect came back a little. Then there was +<i>The Bun's</i> poster to get out. Art being elimination, I fined +it down to two words (one too many, as it proved)--'The Gubby!' in +red, at which our manager protested; but by five o'clock he told me +that I was <i>the</i> Napoleon of Fleet Street. Ollyett's account +in <i>The Bun</i> of the Geoplanarians' Exercises and Love Feast +lacked the supreme shock of his version in <i>The Cake</i>, but it +bruised more; while the photos of 'The Gubby' (which, with Winnie's +left leg, was why I had set the doubtful press to work so early) +were beyond praise and, next day, beyond price. But even then I did +not understand.</p> +<p>A week later, I think it was, Bat Masquerier telephoned to me to +come to the Trefoil.</p> +<p>'It's your turn now,' he said. 'I'm not asking Ollyett. Come to +the stage-box.'</p> +<p>I went, and, as Bat's guest, was received as Royalty is not. We +sat well back and looked out on the packed thousands. It was +<i>Morgiana and Drexel</i>, that fluid and electric review which +Bat--though he gave Lafone the credit--really created.</p> +<p>'Ye-es,' said Bat dreamily, after Morgiana had given 'the nasty +jar' to the Forty Thieves in their forty oil 'combinations.' 'As +you say, I've got 'em and I can hold 'em. What a man does doesn't +matter much; and how he does it don't matter either. It's the +<i>when</i>--the psychological moment. 'Press can't make up for it; +money can't; brains can't. A lot's luck, but all the rest is +genius. I'm not speaking about My people now. I'm talking of +Myself.'</p> +<p>Then 'Dal--she was the only one who dared--knocked at the door +and stood behind us all alive and panting as Morgiana. Lafone was +carrying the police-court scene, and the house was ripped up +crossways with laughter.</p> +<p>'Ah! Tell a fellow now,' she asked me for the twentieth time, +'did you love Nellie Farren when you were young?'</p> +<p>'Did we love her?' I answered. '"If the earth and the sky and +the sea"--There were three million of us, 'Dal, and we worshipped +her.'</p> +<p>'How did she get it across?' Dal went on.</p> +<p>'She was Nellie. The houses used to coo over her when she came +on.'</p> +<p>'I've had a good deal, but I've never been cooed over yet,' said +'Dal wistfully.</p> +<p>'It isn't the how, it's the when,' Bat repeated. 'Ah!'</p> +<p>He leaned forward as the house began to rock and peal +full-throatedly. 'Dal fled. A sinuous and silent procession was +filing into the police-court to a scarcely audible accompaniment. +It was dressed--but the world and all its picture-palaces know how +it was dressed. It danced and it danced, and it danced the dance +which bit all humanity in the leg for half a year, and it wound up +with the lockstep finale that mowed the house down in swathes, +sobbing and aching. Somebody in the gallery moaned, 'Oh Gord, the +Gubby!' and we heard the word run like a shudder, for they had not +a full breath left among them. Then 'Dal came on, an electric star +in her dark hair, the diamonds flashing in her three-inch heels--a +vision that made no sign for thirty counted seconds while the +police-court scene dissolved behind her into Morgiana's Manicure +Palace, and they recovered themselves. The star on her forehead +went out, and a soft light bathed her as she took--slowly, slowly +to the croon of adoring strings--the eighteen paces forward. We saw +her first as a queen alone; next as a queen for the first time +conscious of her subjects, and at the end, when her hands +fluttered, as a woman delighted, awed not a little, but +transfigured and illuminated with sheer, compelling affection and +goodwill. I caught the broken mutter of welcome--the coo which is +more than tornadoes of applause. It died and rose and died again +lovingly.</p> +<p>'She's got it across,' Bat whispered. 'I've never seen her like +this. I told her to light up the star, but I was wrong, and she +knew it. She's an artist.'</p> +<p>''Dal, you darling!' some one spoke, not loudly but it carried +through the house.</p> +<p>'Thank <i>you</i>!' 'Dal answered, and in that broken tone one +heard the last fetter riveted. 'Good evening, boys! I've just come +from--now--where the dooce was it I have come from?' She turned to +the impassive files of the Gubby dancers, and went on: 'Ah, so good +of you to remind me, you dear, bun-faced things. I've just come +from the village--The Village that Voted the Earth was Flat.'</p> +<p>She swept into that song with the full orchestra. It devastated +the habitable earth for the next six months. Imagine, then, what +its rage and pulse must have been at the incandescent hour of its +birth! She only gave the chorus once. At the end of the second +verse, 'Are you <i>with</i> me, boys?' she cried, and the house +tore it clean away from her--'<i>Earth</i> was flat--<i>Earth</i> +was flat. Flat as my hat--Flatter than that'--drowning all but the +bassoons and double-basses that marked the word.</p> +<p>'Wonderful,' I said to Bat. 'And it's only "Nuts in May," with +variations.'</p> +<p>'Yes--but <i>I</i> did the variations,' he replied.</p> +<p>At the last verse she gestured to Carlini the conductor, who +threw her up his baton. She caught it with a boy's ease. 'Are you +<i>with</i> me?' she cried once more, and--the maddened house +behind her--abolished all the instruments except the guttural belch +of the double-basses on '<i>Earth</i>'--'The Village that voted the +<i>Earth</i> was flat--<i>Earth</i> was flat!' It was delirium. +Then she picked up the Gubby dancers and led them in a clattering +improvised lockstep thrice round the stage till her last kick sent +her diamond-hiked shoe catherine-wheeling to the electrolier.</p> +<p>I saw the forest of hands raised to catch it, heard the roaring +and stamping pass through hurricanes to full typhoon; heard the +song, pinned down by the faithful double-basses as the bull-dog +pins down the bellowing bull, overbear even those; till at last the +curtain fell and Bat took me round to her dressing-room, where she +lay spent after her seventh call. Still the song, through all those +white-washed walls, shook the reinforced concrete of the Trefoil as +steam pile-drivers shake the flanks of a dock.</p> +<p>'I'm all out--first time in my life. Ah! Tell a fellow now, did +I get it across?' she whispered huskily.</p> +<p>'You know you did,' I replied as she dipped her nose deep in a +beaker of barley-water. 'They cooed over you.'</p> +<p>Bat nodded. 'And poor Nellie's dead--in Africa, ain't it?'</p> +<p>'I hope I'll die before they stop cooing,' said 'Dal.</p> +<p>'"<i>Earth</i> was flat--<i>Earth</i> was flat!"' Now it was +more like mine-pumps in flood.</p> +<p>'They'll have the house down if you don't take another,' some +one called.</p> +<p>'Bless 'em!' said 'Dal, and went out for her eighth, when in the +face of that cataract she said yawning, 'I don't know how +<i>you</i> feel, children, but <i>I</i>'m dead. You be quiet.'</p> +<p>'Hold a minute,' said Bat to me. 'I've got to hear how it went +in the provinces. Winnie Deans had it in Manchester, and Ramsden at +Glasgow--and there are all the films too. I had rather a heavy +week-end.'</p> +<p>The telephones presently reassured him.</p> +<p>'It'll do,' said he. 'And <i>he</i> said my home address was +Jerusalem.' He left me humming the refrain of 'The Holy City.' Like +Ollyett I found myself afraid of that man.</p> +<p>When I got out into the street and met the disgorging +picture-palaces capering on the pavements and humming it (for he +had put the gramophones on with the films), and when I saw far to +the south the red electrics flash 'Gubby' across the Thames, I +feared more than ever.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>A few days passed which were like nothing except, perhaps, a +suspense of fever in which the sick man perceives the searchlights +of the world's assembled navies in act to converge on one minute +fragment of wreckage--one only in all the black and agony-strewn +sea. Then those beams focussed themselves. Earth as we knew it--the +full circuit of our orb--laid the weight of its impersonal and +searing curiosity on this Huckley which had voted that it was flat. +It asked for news about Huckley--where and what it might be, and +how it talked--it knew how it danced--and how it thought in its +wonderful soul. And then, in all the zealous, merciless press, +Huckley was laid out for it to look at, as a drop of pond water is +exposed on the sheet of a magic-lantern show. But Huckley's sheet +was only coterminous with the use of type among mankind. For the +precise moment that was necessary, Fate ruled it that there should +be nothing of first importance in the world's idle eye. One +atrocious murder, a political crisis, an incautious or heady +continental statesman, the mere catarrh of a king, would have wiped +out the significance of our message, as a passing cloud annuls the +urgent helio. But it was halcyon weather in every respect. Ollyett +and I did not need to lift our little fingers any more than the +Alpine climber whose last sentence has unkeyed the arch of the +avalanche. The thing roared and pulverised and swept beyond +eyesight all by itself--all by itself. And once well away, the fall +of kingdoms could not have diverted it.</p> +<p>Ours is, after all, a kindly earth. While The Song ran and raped +it with the cataleptic kick of 'Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay,' multiplied by +the West African significance of 'Everybody's doing it,' plus twice +the infernal elementality of a certain tune in <i>Dona et +Gamma</i>; when for all practical purposes, literary, dramatic, +artistic, social, municipal, political, commercial, and +administrative, the Earth <i>was</i> flat, the Rector of Huckley +wrote to us--again as a lover of accuracy--to point out that the +Huckley vote on 'the alleged flatness of this scene of our labours +here below' was <i>not</i> unanimous; he and the doctor having +voted against it. And the great Baron Reuter himself (I am sure it +could have been none other) flashed that letter in full to the +front, back, and both wings of this scene of our labours. For +Huckley was News. <i>The Bun</i> also contributed a photograph +which cost me some trouble to fake.</p> +<p>'We are a vital nation,' said Ollyett while we were discussing +affairs at a Bat dinner. 'Only an Englishman could have written +that letter at this present juncture.'</p> +<p>'It reminded me of a tourist in the Cave of the Winds under +Niagara. Just one figure in a mackintosh. But perhaps you saw our +photo?' I said proudly.</p> +<p>'Yes,' Bat replied. 'I've been to Niagara, too. And how's +Huckley taking it?'</p> +<p>'They don't quite understand, of course,' said Ollyett. 'But +it's bringing pots of money into the place. Ever since the +motor-bus excursions were started--'</p> +<p>'I didn't know they had been,' said Pallant.</p> +<p>'Oh yes. Motor char-à-bancs--uniformed guides and +key-bugles included. They're getting a bit fed up with the tune +there nowadays,' Ollyett added.</p> +<p>'They play it under his windows, don't they?' Bat asked. 'He +can't stop the right of way across his park.'</p> +<p>'He cannot,' Ollyett answered. 'By the way, Woodhouse, I've +bought that font for you from the sexton. I paid fifteen pounds for +it.'</p> +<p>'What am I supposed to do with it?' asked Woodhouse.</p> +<p>'You give it to the Victoria and Albert Museum. It is +fourteenth-century work all right. You can trust me.'</p> +<p>'Is it worth it--now?' said Pallant. 'Not that I'm weakening, +but merely as a matter of tactics?'</p> +<p>'But this is true,' said Ollyett. 'Besides, it is my hobby, I +always wanted to be an architect. I'll attend to it myself. It's +too serious for <i>The Bun</i> and miles too good for <i>The +Cake</i>.'</p> +<p>He broke ground in a ponderous architectural weekly, which had +never heard of Huckley. There was no passion in his statement, but +mere fact backed by a wide range of authorities. He established +beyond doubt that the old font at Huckley had been thrown out, on +Sir Thomas's instigation, twenty years ago, to make room for a new +one of Bath stone adorned with Limoges enamels; and that it had +lain ever since in a corner of the sexton's shed. He proved, with +learned men to support him, that there was only one other font in +all England to compare with it. So Woodhouse bought it and +presented it to a grateful South Kensington which said it would see +the earth still flatter before it returned the treasure to purblind +Huckley. Bishops by the benchful and most of the Royal Academy, not +to mention 'Margaritas ante Porcos,' wrote fervently to the papers. +<i>Punch</i> based a political cartoon on it; the <i>Times</i> a +third leader, 'The Lust of Newness'; and the <i>Spectator</i> a +scholarly and delightful middle, 'Village Hausmania.' The vast +amused outside world said in all its tongues and types: 'Of course! +This is just what Huckley would do!' And neither Sir Thomas nor the +Rector nor the sexton nor any one else wrote to deny it.</p> +<p>'You see,' said Ollyett, 'this is much more of a blow to Huckley +than it looks--because every word of it's true. Your Gubby dance +was inspiration, I admit, but it hadn't its roots in--'</p> +<p>'Two hemispheres and four continents so far,' I pointed out.</p> +<p>'Its roots in the hearts of Huckley was what I was going to say. +Why don't you ever come down and look at the place? You've never +seen it since we were stopped there.'</p> +<p>'I've only my week-ends free,' I said, 'and you seem to spend +yours there pretty regularly--with the side-car. I was +afraid--'</p> +<p>'Oh, <i>that's</i> all right,' he said cheerily. 'We're quite an +old engaged couple now. As a matter of fact, it happened after "the +gravid polled Angus" business. Come along this Saturday. Woodhouse +says he'll run us down after lunch. He wants to see Huckley +too.'</p> +<p>Pallant could not accompany us, but Bat took his place.</p> +<p>'It's odd,' said Bat, 'that none of us except Ollyett has ever +set eyes on Huckley since that time. That's what I always tell My +people. Local colour is all right after you've got your idea. +Before that, it's a mere nuisance.' He regaled us on the way down +with panoramic views of the success--geographical and financial--of +'The Gubby' and The Song.</p> +<p>'By the way,' said he, 'I've assigned 'Dal all the gramophone +rights of "The Earth." She's a born artist. 'Hadn't sense enough to +hit me for triple-dubs the morning after. She'd have taken it out +in coos.'</p> +<p>'Bless her! And what'll she make out of the gramophone rights?' +I asked.</p> +<p>'Lord knows!' he replied. 'I've made fifty-four thousand my +little end of the business, and it's only just beginning. Hear +<i>that</i>!'</p> +<p>A shell-pink motor-brake roared up behind us to the music on a +key-bugle of 'The Village that Voted the Earth was Flat.' In a few +minutes we overtook another, in natural wood, whose occupants were +singing it through their noses.</p> +<p>'I don't know that agency. It must be Cook's,' said Ollyett. +'They <i>do</i> suffer.' We were never out of earshot of the tune +the rest of the way to Huckley.</p> +<p>Though I knew it would be so, I was disappointed with the actual +aspect of the spot we had--it is not too much to say--created in +the face of the nations. The alcoholic pub; the village green; the +Baptist chapel; the church; the sexton's shed; the Rectory whence +the so-wonderful letters had come; Sir Thomas's park gate-pillars +still violently declaring 'The Earth <i>is</i> flat,' were as mean, +as average, as ordinary as the photograph of a room where a murder +has been committed. Ollyett, who, of course, knew the place +specially well, made the most of it to us. Bat, who had employed it +as a back-cloth to one of his own dramas, dismissed it as a thing +used and emptied, but Woodhouse expressed my feelings when he said: +'Is that all--after all we've done?'</p> +<p>'<i>I</i> know,' said Ollyett soothingly. '"Like that strange +song I heard Apollo sing: When Ilion like a mist rose into towers." +I've felt the same sometimes, though it has been Paradise for me. +But they <i>do</i> suffer.'</p> +<p>The fourth brake in thirty minutes had just turned into Sir +Thomas's park to tell the Hall that 'The <i>Earth</i> was flat'; a +knot of obviously American tourists were kodaking his lodge-gates; +while the tea-shop opposite the lych-gate was full of people buying +postcards of the old font as it had lain twenty years in the +sexton's shed. We went to the alcoholic pub and congratulated the +proprietor.</p> +<p>'It's bringin' money to the place,' said he. 'But in a sense you +can buy money too dear. It isn't doin' us any good. People are +laughin' at us. That's what they're doin'.... Now, with regard to +that Vote of ours you may have heard talk about....'</p> +<p>'For Gorze sake, chuck that votin' business,' cried an elderly +man at the door. 'Money-gettin' or no money-gettin', we're fed up +with it.'</p> +<p>'Well, I do think,' said the publican, shifting his ground, 'I +do think Sir Thomas might ha' managed better in some things.'</p> +<p>'He tole me,'--the elderly man shouldered his way to the +bar--'he tole me twenty years ago to take an' lay that font in my +tool-shed. He <i>tole</i> me so himself. An' now, after twenty +years, me own wife makin' me out little better than the common +'angman!'</p> +<p>'That's the sexton,' the publican explained. 'His good lady +sells the postcards--if you 'aven't got some. But we feel Sir +Thomas might ha' done better.'</p> +<p>'What's he got to do with it?' said Woodhouse.</p> +<p>'There's nothin' we can trace 'ome to 'im in so many words, but +we think he might 'ave saved us the font business. Now, in regard +to that votin' business--'</p> +<p>'Chuck it! Oh, chuck it!' the sexton roared, 'or you'll 'ave me +cuttin' my throat at cock-crow. 'Ere's another parcel of +fun-makers!'</p> +<p>A motor-brake had pulled up at the door and a multitude of men +and women immediately descended. We went out to look. They bore +rolled banners, a reading-desk in three pieces, and, I specially +noticed, a collapsible harmonium, such as is used on ships at +sea.</p> +<p>'Salvation Army?' I said, though I saw no uniforms.</p> +<p>Two of them unfurled a banner between poles which bore the +legend: 'The Earth <i>is</i> flat.' Woodhouse and I turned to Bat. +He shook his head. 'No, no! Not me.... If I had only seen their +costumes in advance!'</p> +<p>'Good Lord!' said Ollyett. 'It's the genuine Society!'</p> +<p>The company advanced on the green with the precision of people +well broke to these movements. Scene-shifters could not have been +quicker with the three-piece rostrum, nor stewards with the +harmonium. Almost before its cross-legs had been kicked into their +catches, certainly before the tourists by the lodge-gates had begun +to move over, a woman sat down to it and struck up a hymn:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Hear ther truth our tongues are telling,</p> +<p class="i6">Spread ther light from shore to shore,</p> +<p class="i5">God hath given man a dwelling</p> +<p class="i6">Flat and flat for evermore.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">When ther Primal Dark retreated,</p> +<p class="i6">When ther deeps were undesigned,</p> +<p class="i5">He with rule and level meted</p> +<p class="i6">Habitation for mankind!</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>I saw sick envy on Bat's face. 'Curse Nature,' he muttered. 'She +gets ahead of you every time. To think <i>I</i> forgot hymns and a +harmonium!'</p> +<p>Then came the chorus:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Hear ther truth our tongues are telling,</p> +<p class="i6">Spread ther light from shore to shore--</p> +<p class="i5">Oh, be faithful! Oh, be truthful!</p> +<p class="i6">Earth is flat for evermore.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>They sang several verses with the fervour of Christians awaiting +their lions. Then there were growlings in the air. The sexton, +embraced by the landlord, two-stepped out of the pub-door. Each was +trying to outroar the other. 'Apologising in advarnce for what he +says,' the landlord shouted: 'You'd better go away' (here the +sexton began to speak words). 'This isn't the time nor yet the +place for--for any more o' this chat.'</p> +<p>The crowd thickened. I saw the village police-sergeant come out +of his cottage buckling his belt.</p> +<p>'But surely,' said the woman at the harmonium, 'there must be +some mistake. We are not suffragettes.'</p> +<p>'Damn it! They'd be a change,' cried the sexton. 'You get out of +this! Don't talk! <i>I</i> can't stand it for one! Get right out, +or we'll font you!'</p> +<p>The crowd which was being recruited from every house in sight +echoed the invitation. The sergeant pushed forward. A man beside +the reading-desk said: 'But surely we are among dear friends and +sympathisers. Listen to me for a moment.'</p> +<p>It was the moment that a passing char-à-banc chose to +strike into The Song. The effect was instantaneous. Bat, Ollyett, +and I, who by divers roads have learned the psychology of crowds, +retreated towards the tavern door. Woodhouse, the newspaper +proprietor, anxious, I presume, to keep touch with the public, +dived into the thick of it. Every one else told the Society to go +away at once. When the lady at the harmonium (I began to understand +why it is sometimes necessary to kill women) pointed at the +stencilled park pillars and called them 'the cromlechs of our +common faith,' there was a snarl and a rush. The police-sergeant +checked it, but advised the Society to keep on going. The Society +withdrew into the brake fighting, as it were, a rear-guard action +of oratory up each step. The collapsed harmonium was hauled in +last, and with the perfect unreason of crowds, they cheered it +loudly, till the chauffeur slipped in his clutch and sped away. +Then the crowd broke up, congratulating all concerned except the +sexton, who was held to have disgraced his office by having sworn +at ladies. We strolled across the green towards Woodhouse, who was +talking to the police-sergeant near the park-gates. We were not +twenty yards from him when we saw Sir Thomas Ingell emerge from the +lodge and rush furiously at Woodhouse with an uplifted stick, at +the same time shrieking: 'I'll teach you to laugh, you--' but +Ollyett has the record of the language. By the time we reached +them, Sir Thomas was on the ground; Woodhouse, very white, held the +walking-stick and was saying to the sergeant:</p> +<p>'I give this person in charge for assault.'</p> +<p>'But, good Lord!' said the sergeant, whiter than Woodhouse. +'It's Sir Thomas.'</p> +<p>'Whoever it is, it isn't fit to be at large,' said Woodhouse. +The crowd suspecting something wrong began to reassemble, and all +the English horror of a row in public moved us, headed by the +sergeant, inside the lodge. We shut both park-gates and +lodge-door.</p> +<p>'You saw the assault, sergeant,' Woodhouse went on. 'You can +testify I used no more force than was necessary to protect myself. +You can testify that I have not even damaged this person's +property. (Here! take your stick, you!) You heard the filthy +language he used.'</p> +<p>'I--I can't say I did,' the sergeant stammered.</p> +<p>'Oh, but <i>we</i> did!' said Ollyett, and repeated it, to the +apron-veiled horror of the lodge-keeper's wife.</p> +<p>Sir Thomas on a hard kitchen chair began to talk. He said he had +'stood enough of being photographed like a wild beast,' and +expressed loud regret that he had not killed 'that man,' who was +'conspiring with the sergeant to laugh at him.'</p> +<p>''Ad you ever seen 'im before, Sir Thomas?' the sergeant +asked.</p> +<p>'No! But it's time an example was made here. I've never seen the +sweep in my life.'</p> +<p>I think it was Bat Masquerier's magnetic eye that recalled the +past to him, for his face changed and his jaw dropped. 'But I +have!' he groaned. 'I remember now.'</p> +<p>Here a writhing man entered by the back door. He was, he said, +the village solicitor. I do not assert that he licked Woodhouse's +boots, but we should have respected him more if he had and been +done with it. His notion was that the matter could be accommodated, +arranged and compromised for gold, and yet more gold. The sergeant +thought so too. Woodhouse undeceived them both. To the sergeant he +said, 'Will you or will you not enter the charge?' To the village +solicitor he gave the name of his lawyers, at which the man wrung +his hands and cried, 'Oh, Sir T., Sir T.!' in a miserable falsetto, +for it was a Bat Masquerier of a firm. They conferred together in +tragic whispers.</p> +<p>'I don't dive after Dickens,' said Ollyett to Bat and me by the +window, 'but every time <i>I</i> get into a row I notice the +police-court always fills up with his characters.'</p> +<p>'I've noticed that too,' said Bat. 'But the odd thing is you +mustn't give the public straight Dickens--not in My business. I +wonder why that is.'</p> +<p>Then Sir Thomas got his second wind and cursed the day that he, +or it may have been we, were born. I feared that though he was a +Radical he might apologise and, since he was an M.P., might lie his +way out of the difficulty. But he was utterly and truthfully beside +himself. He asked foolish questions--such as what we were doing in +the village at all, and how much blackmail Woodhouse expected to +make out of him. But neither Woodhouse nor the sergeant nor the +writhing solicitor listened. The upshot of their talk, in the +chimney-corner, was that Sir Thomas stood engaged to appear next +Monday before his brother magistrates on charges of assault, +disorderly conduct, and language calculated, etc. Ollyett was +specially careful about the language.</p> +<p>Then we left. The village looked very pretty in the late +light--pretty and tuneful as a nest of nightingales.</p> +<p>'You'll turn up on Monday, I hope,' said Woodhouse, when we +reached town. That was his only allusion to the affair.</p> +<p>So we turned up--through a world still singing that the Earth +was flat--at the little clay-coloured market-town with the large +Corn Exchange and the small Jubilee memorial. We had some +difficulty in getting seats in the court. Woodhouse's imported +London lawyer was a man of commanding personality, with a voice +trained to convey blasting imputations by tone. When the case was +called, he rose and stated his client's intention not to proceed +with the charge. His client, he went on to say, had not +entertained, and, of course, in the circumstances could not have +entertained, any suggestion of accepting on behalf of public +charities any moneys that might have been offered to him on the +part of Sir Thomas's estate. At the same time, no one acknowledged +more sincerely than his client the spirit in which those offers had +been made by those entitled to make them. But, as a matter of +fact--here he became the man of the world colloguing with his +equals--certain--er--details had come to his client's knowledge +<i>since</i> the lamentable outburst, which ... He shrugged his +shoulders. Nothing was served by going into them, but he ventured +to say that, had those painful circumstances only been known +earlier, his client would--again 'of course'--never have dreamed--A +gesture concluded the sentence, and the ensnared Bench looked at +Sir Thomas with new and withdrawing eyes. Frankly, as they could +see, it would be nothing less than cruelty to proceed further with +this--er-unfortunate affair. He asked leave, therefore, to withdraw +the charge <i>in toto</i>, and at the same time to express his +client's deepest sympathy with all who had been in any way +distressed, as his client had been, by the fact and the publicity +of proceedings which he could, of course, again assure them that +his client would never have dreamed of instituting if, as he hoped +he had made plain, certain facts had been before his client at the +time when.... But he had said enough. For his fee it seemed to me +that he had.</p> +<p>Heaven inspired Sir Thomas's lawyer--all of a sweat lest his +client's language should come out--to rise up and thank him. Then, +Sir Thomas--not yet aware what leprosy had been laid upon him, but +grateful to escape on any terms--followed suit. He was heard in +interested silence, and people drew back a pace as Gehazi passed +forth.</p> +<p>'You hit hard,' said Bat to Woodhouse afterwards. 'His own +people think he's mad.'</p> +<p>'You don't say so? I'll show you some of his letters to-night at +dinner,' he replied.</p> +<p>He brought them to the Red Amber Room of the Chop Suey. We +forgot to be amazed, as till then we had been amazed, over the Song +or 'The Gubby,' or the full tide of Fate that seemed to run only +for our sakes. It did not even interest Ollyett that the verb 'to +huckle' had passed into the English leader-writers' language. We +were studying the interior of a soul, flash-lighted to its grimiest +corners by the dread of 'losing its position.'</p> +<p>'And then it thanked you, didn't it, for dropping the case?' +said Pallant.</p> +<p>'Yes, and it sent me a telegram to confirm.' Woodhouse turned to +Bat. 'Now d'you think I hit too hard?' he asked.</p> +<p>'No-o!' said Bat. 'After all--I'm talking of every one's +business now--one can't ever do anything in Art that comes up to +Nature in any game in life. Just think how this thing has--'</p> +<p>'Just let me run through that little case of yours again,' said +Pallant, and picked up <i>The Bun</i> which had it set out in +full.</p> +<p>'Any chance of 'Dal looking in on us to-night?' Ollyett +began.</p> +<p>'She's occupied with her Art too,' Bat answered bitterly. +'What's the use of Art? Tell me, some one!' A barrel-organ outside +promptly pointed out that the <i>Earth</i> was flat. 'The +gramophone's killing street organs, but I let loose a +hundred-and-seventy-four of those hurdygurdys twelve hours after +The Song,' said Bat. 'Not counting the Provinces.' His face +brightened a little.</p> +<p>'Look here!' said Pallant over the paper. 'I don't suppose you +or those asinine J.P.'s knew it--but your lawyer ought to have +known that you've all put your foot in it most confoundedly over +this assault case.'</p> +<p>'What's the matter?' said Woodhouse.</p> +<p>'It's ludicrous. It's insane. There isn't two penn'orth of +legality in the whole thing. Of course, you could have withdrawn +the charge, but the way you went about it is childish--besides +being illegal. What on earth was the Chief Constable thinking +of?'</p> +<p>'Oh, he was a friend of Sir Thomas's. They all were for that +matter,' I replied.</p> +<p>'He ought to be hanged. So ought the Chairman of the Bench. I'm +talking as a lawyer now.'</p> +<p>'Why, what have we been guilty of? Misprision of treason or +compounding a felony--or what?' said Ollyett.</p> +<p>'I'll tell you later.' Pallant went back to the paper with +knitted brows, smiling unpleasantly from time to time. At last he +laughed.</p> +<p>'Thank you!' he said to Woodhouse. 'It ought to be pretty +useful--for us.'</p> +<p>'What d'you mean?' said Ollyett.</p> +<p>'For our side. They are all Rads who are mixed up in this--from +the Chief Constable down. There must be a Question. There must be a +Question.'</p> +<p>'Yes, but I wanted the charge withdrawn in my own way,' +Woodhouse insisted.</p> +<p>'That's nothing to do with the case. It's the legality of your +silly methods. You wouldn't understand if I talked till morning,' +He began to pace the room, his hands behind him. 'I wonder if I can +get it through our Whip's thick head that it's a chance.... That +comes of stuffing the Bench with radical tinkers,' he muttered.</p> +<p>'Oh, sit down!' said Woodhouse.</p> +<p>'Where's your lawyer to be found now?' he jerked out.</p> +<p>'At the Trefoil,' said Bat promptly. 'I gave him the stage-box +for to-night. He's an artist too.'</p> +<p>'Then I'm going to see him,' said Pallant. 'Properly handled +this ought to be a godsend for our side.' He withdrew without +apology.</p> +<p>'Certainly, this thing keeps on opening up, and up,' I remarked +inanely.</p> +<p>'It's beyond me!' said Bat. 'I don't think if I'd known I'd have +ever ... Yes, I would, though. He said my home address was--'</p> +<p>'It was his tone--his tone!' Ollyett almost shouted. Woodhouse +said nothing, but his face whitened as he brooded.</p> +<p>'Well, any way,' Bat went on, 'I'm glad I always believed in God +and Providence and all those things. Else I should lose my nerve. +We've put it over the whole world--the full extent of the +geographical globe. We couldn't stop it if we wanted to now. It's +got to burn itself out. I'm not in charge any more. What d'you +expect'll happen next. Angels?'</p> +<p>I expected nothing. Nothing that I expected approached what I +got. Politics are not my concern, but, for the moment, since it +seemed that they were going to 'huckle' with the rest, I took an +interest in them. They impressed me as a dog's life without a dog's +decencies, and I was confirmed in this when an unshaven and +unwashen Pallant called on me at ten o'clock one morning, begging +for a bath and a couch.</p> +<p>'Bail too?' I asked. He was in evening dress and his eyes were +sunk feet in his head.</p> +<p>'No,' he said hoarsely. 'All night sitting. Fifteen divisions. +'Nother to-night. Your place was nearer than mine, so--' He began +to undress in the hall.</p> +<p>When he awoke at one o'clock he gave me lurid accounts of what +he said was history, but which was obviously collective hysteria. +There had been a political crisis. He and his fellow M.P.'s had +'done things'--I never quite got at the things--for eighteen hours +on end, and the pitiless Whips were even then at the telephones to +herd 'em up to another dog-fight. So he snorted and grew hot all +over again while he might have been resting.</p> +<p>'I'm going to pitch in my question about that miscarriage of +justice at Huckley this afternoon, if you care to listen to it,' he +said. 'It'll be absolutely thrown away--in our present state. I +told 'em so; but it's my only chance for weeks. P'raps Woodhouse +would like to come.'</p> +<p>'I'm sure he would. Anything to do with Huckley interests us,' I +said.</p> +<p>'It'll miss fire, I'm afraid. Both sides are absolutely cooked. +The present situation has been working up for some time. You see +the row was bound to come, etc. etc.,' and he flew off the handle +once more.</p> +<p>I telephoned to Woodhouse, and we went to the House together. It +was a dull, sticky afternoon with thunder in the air. For some +reason or other, each side was determined to prove its virtue and +endurance to the utmost. I heard men snarling about it all round +me. 'If they won't spare us, we'll show 'em no mercy,' 'Break the +brutes up from the start. They can't stand late hours.' 'Come on! +No shirking! I know <i>you've</i> had a Turkish bath,' were some of +the sentences I caught on our way. The House was packed already, +and one could feel the negative electricity of a jaded crowd +wrenching at one's own nerves, and depressing the afternoon +soul.</p> +<p>'This is bad!' Woodhouse whispered. 'There'll be a row before +they've finished. Look at the Front Benches!' And he pointed out +little personal signs by which I was to know that each man was on +edge. He might have spared himself. The House was ready to snap +before a bone had been thrown. A sullen minister rose to reply to a +staccato question. His supporters cheered defiantly. 'None o' that! +None o' that!' came from the Back Benches. I saw the Speaker's face +stiffen like the face of a helmsman as he humours a hard-mouthed +yacht after a sudden following sea. The trouble was barely met in +time. There came a fresh, apparently causeless gust a few minutes +later--savage, threatening, but futile. It died out--one could hear +the sigh--in sudden wrathful realisation of the dreary hours ahead, +and the ship of state drifted on.</p> +<p>Then Pallant--and the raw House winced at the torture of his +voice--rose. It was a twenty-line question, studded with legal +technicalities. The gist of it was that he wished to know whether +the appropriate Minister was aware that there had been a grave +miscarriage of justice on such and such a date, at such and such a +place, before such and such justices of the peace, in regard to a +case which arose--</p> +<p>I heard one desperate, weary 'damn!' float up from the pit of +that torment. Pallant sawed on--'out of certain events which +occurred at the village of Huckley.'</p> +<p>The House came to attention with a parting of the lips like a +hiccough, and it flashed through my mind.... Pallant repeated, +'Huckley. The village--'</p> +<p>'That voted the <i>Earth</i> was flat.' A single voice from a +back Bench sang it once like a lone frog in a far pool.</p> +<p>'<i>Earth</i> was flat,' croaked another voice opposite.</p> +<p>'<i>Earth</i> was flat.' There were several. Then several +more.</p> +<p>It was, you understand, the collective, overstrained nerve of +the House, snapping, strand by strand to various notes, as the +hawser parts from its moorings.</p> +<p>'The Village that voted the <i>Earth</i> was flat.' The tune was +beginning to shape itself. More voices were raised and feet began +to beat time. Even so it did not occur to me that the thing +would--</p> +<p>'The Village that voted the <i>Earth</i> was flat!' It was +easier now to see who were not singing. There were still a few. Of +a sudden (and this proves the fundamental instability of the +cross-bench mind) a cross-bencher leaped on his seat and there +played an imaginary double-bass with tremendous maestro-like +wagglings of the elbow.</p> +<p>The last strand parted. The ship of state drifted out helpless +on the rocking tide of melody.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">'The Village that voted the <i>Earth</i> was +flat!</p> +<p class="i5"> The Village that voted the <i>Earth</i> was +flat!'</p> +</div> +</div> +<p>The Irish first conceived the idea of using their order-papers +as funnels wherewith to reach the correct '<i>vroom--vroom</i>' on +'<i>Earth</i>.' Labour, always conservative and respectable at a +crisis, stood out longer than any other section, but when it came +in it was howling syndicalism. Then, without distinction of Party, +fear of constituents, desire for office, or hope of emolument, the +House sang at the tops and at the bottoms of their voices, swaying +their stale bodies and epileptically beating with their swelled +feet. They sang 'The Village that voted the <i>Earth</i> was flat': +first, because they wanted to, and secondly--which is the terror of +that song--because they could not stop. For no consideration could +they stop.</p> +<p>Pallant was still standing up. Some one pointed at him and they +laughed. Others began to point, lunging, as it were, in time with +the tune. At this moment two persons came in practically abreast +from behind the Speaker's chair, and halted appalled. One happened +to be the Prime Minister and the other a messenger. The House, with +tears running down their cheeks, transferred their attention to the +paralysed couple. They pointed six hundred forefingers at them. +They rocked, they waved, and they rolled while they pointed, but +still they sang. When they weakened for an instant, Ireland would +yell: 'Are ye <i>with</i> me, bhoys?' and they all renewed their +strength like Antaeus. No man could say afterwards what happened in +the Press or the Strangers' Gallery. It was the House, the +hysterical and abandoned House of Commons that held all eyes, as it +deafened all ears. I saw both Front Benches bend forward, some with +their foreheads on their despatch-boxes, the rest with their faces +in their hands; and their moving shoulders jolted the House out of +its last rag of decency. Only the Speaker remained unmoved. The +entire press of Great Britain bore witness next day that he had not +even bowed his head. The Angel of the Constitution, for vain was +the help of man, foretold him the exact moment at which the House +would have broken into 'The Gubby.' He is reported to have said: 'I +heard the Irish beginning to shuffle it. So I adjourned.' Pallant's +version is that he added: 'And I was never so grateful to a private +member in all my life as I was to Mr. Pallant.'</p> +<p>He made no explanation. He did not refer to orders or disorders. +He simply adjourned the House till six that evening. And the House +adjourned--some of it nearly on all fours.</p> +<p>I was not correct when I said that the Speaker was the only man +who did not laugh. Woodhouse was beside me all the time. His face +was set and quite white--as white, they told me, as Sir Thomas +Ingell's when he went, by request, to a private interview with his +Chief Whip.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page216"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"><b>THE PRESS</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">The Soldier may forget his sword</p> +<p class="i4">The Sailorman the sea,</p> +<p class="i3">The Mason may forget the Word</p> +<p class="i4">And the Priest his litany:</p> +<p class="i3">The maid may forget both jewel and gem,</p> +<p class="i4">And the bride her wedding-dress--</p> +<p class="i3">But the Jew shall forget Jerusalem</p> +<p class="i4">Ere we forget the Press!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Who once hath stood through the loaded hour</p> +<p class="i4">Ere, roaring like the gale,</p> +<p class="i3">The Harrild and the Hoe devour</p> +<p class="i4">Their league-long paper bale,</p> +<p class="i3">And has lit his pipe in the morning calm</p> +<p class="i4">That follows the midnight stress--</p> +<p class="i3">He hath sold his heart to the old Black Art</p> +<p class="i4">We call the daily Press.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Who once hath dealt in the widest game</p> +<p class="i4">That all of a man can play,</p> +<p class="i3">No later love, no larger fame</p> +<p class="i4">Will lure him long away.</p> +<p class="i3">As the war-horse smelleth the battle afar,</p> +<p class="i4">The entered Soul, no less,</p> +<p class="i3">He saith: 'Ha! Ha!' where the trumpets are</p> +<p class="i4">And the thunders of the Press.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Canst thou number the days that we fulfil,</p> +<p class="i4">Or the <i>Times</i> that we bring forth?</p> +<p class="i3">Canst thou send the lightnings to do thy will,</p> +<p class="i4">And cause them reign on earth?</p> +<p class="i3">Hast thou given a peacock goodly wings</p> +<p class="i4">To please his foolishness?</p> +<p class="i3">Sit down at the heart of men and things,</p> +<p class="i4">Companion of the Press!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">The Pope may launch his Interdict,</p> +<p class="i4">The Union its decree,</p> +<p class="i3">But the bubble is blown and the bubble is pricked</p> +<p class="i4">By Us and such as We.</p> +<p class="i3">Remember the battle and stand aside</p> +<p class="i4">While Thrones and Powers confess</p> +<p class="i3">That King over all the children of pride</p> +<p class="i4">Is the Press--the Press--the Press!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page219"></a> +<h2>In The Presence</h2> +<h3>(1912)</h3> +<br> +<p>'So the matter,' the Regimental Chaplain concluded, 'was +correct; in every way correct. I am well pleased with Rutton Singh +and Attar Singh. They have gathered the fruit of their lives.'</p> +<p>He folded his arms and sat down on the verandah. The hot day had +ended, and there was a pleasant smell of cooking along the +regimental lines, where half-clad men went back and forth with leaf +platters and water-goglets. The Subadar-Major, in extreme undress, +sat on a chair, as befitted his rank; the Havildar-Major, his +nephew, leaning respectfully against the wall. The Regiment was at +home and at ease in its own quarters in its own district which +takes its name from the great Muhammadan saint Mian Mir, revered by +Jehangir and beloved by Guru Har Gobind, sixth of the great Sikh +Gurus.</p> +<p>'Quite correct,' the Regimental Chaplain repeated.</p> +<p>No Sikh contradicts his Regimental Chaplain who expounds to him +the Holy Book of the Grunth Sahib and who knows the lives and +legends of all the Gurus.</p> +<p>The Subadar-Major bowed his grey head. The Havildar-Major +coughed respectfully to attract attention and to ask leave to +speak. Though he was the Subadar-Major's nephew, and though his +father held twice as much land as his uncle, he knew his place in +the scheme of things. The Subadar-Major shifted one hand with an +iron bracelet on the wrist.</p> +<p>'Was there by any chance any woman at the back of it?' the +Havildar-Major murmured. 'I was not here when the thing +happened.'</p> +<p>'Yes! Yes! Yes! We all know that thou wast in England eating and +drinking with the Sahibs. We are all surprised that thou canst +still speak Punjabi.' The Subadar-Major's carefully-tended beard +bristled.</p> +<p>'There was no woman,' the Regimental Chaplain growled. 'It was +land. Hear, you! Rutton Singh and Attar Singh were the elder of +four brothers. These four held land in--what was the village's +name?--oh, Pishapur, near Thori, in the Banalu Tehsil of Patiala +State, where men can still recognise right behaviour when they see +it. The two younger brothers tilled the land, while Rutton Singh +and Attar Singh took service with the Regiment, according to the +custom of the family.'</p> +<p>'True, true,' said the Havildar-Major. 'There is the same +arrangement in all good families.'</p> +<p>'Then, listen again,' the Regimental Chaplain went on. 'Their +kin on their mother's side put great oppression and injustice upon +the two younger brothers who stayed with the land in Patiala State. +Their mother's kin loosened beasts into the four brothers' crops +when the crops were green; they cut the corn by force when it was +ripe; they broke down the water-courses; they defiled the wells; +and they brought false charges in the law-courts against all four +brothers. They did not spare even the cotton-seed, as the saying +is.</p> +<p>'Their mother's kin trusted that the young men would thus be +forced by weight of trouble, and further trouble and perpetual +trouble, to quit their lands in Pishapur village in Banalu Tehsil +in Patiala State. If the young men ran away, the land would come +whole to their mother's kin. I am not a regimental school-master, +but is it understood, child?'</p> +<p>'Understood,' said the Havildar-Major grimly. 'Pishapur is not +the only place where the fence eats the field instead of protecting +it. But perhaps there was a woman among their mother's kin?'</p> +<p>'God knows!' said the Regimental Chaplain. 'Woman, or man, or +law-courts, the young men would <i>not</i> be driven off the land +which was their own by inheritance. They made appeal to Rutton +Singh and Attar Singh, their brethren who had taken service with +<i>us</i> in the Regiment, and so knew the world, to help them in +their long war against their mother's kin in Pishapur. For that +reason, because their own land and the honour of their house was +dear to them, Rutton Singh and Attar Singh needs must very often +ask for leave to go to Patiala and attend to the lawsuits and +cattle-poundings there.</p> +<p>'It was not, look you, as though they went back to their own +village and sat, garlanded with jasmine, in honour, upon chairs +before the elders under the trees. They went back always to +perpetual trouble, either of lawsuits, or theft, or strayed cattle; +and they sat on thorns.'</p> +<p>'I knew it,' said the Subadar-Major. 'Life was bitter for them +both. But they were well-conducted men. It was not hard to get them +their leave from the Colonel Sahib.'</p> +<p>'They spoke to me also,' said the Chaplain. '<i>"Let him who +desires the four great gifts apply himself to the words of holy +men."</i> That is written. Often they showed me the papers of the +false lawsuits brought against them. Often they wept on account of +the persecution put upon them by their mother's kin. Men thought it +was drugs when their eyes showed red.'</p> +<p>'They wept in my presence too,' said the Subadar-Major. +'Well-conducted men of nine years' service apiece. Rutton Singh was +drill-Naik, too.'</p> +<p>'They did all things correctly as Sikhs should,' said the +Regimental Chaplain. 'When the persecution had endured seven years, +Attar Singh took leave to Pishapur once again (that was the fourth +time in that year only) and he called his persecutors together +before the village elders, and he cast his turban at their feet and +besought them by his mother's blood to cease from their +persecutions. For he told them earnestly that he had marched to the +boundaries of his patience, and that there could be but one end to +the matter.</p> +<p>'They gave him abuse. They mocked him and his tears, which was +the same as though they had mocked the Regiment. Then Attar Singh +returned to the Regiment, and laid this last trouble before Rutton +Singh, the eldest brother. But Rutton Singh could not get leave all +at once.'</p> +<p>'Because he was drill-Naik and the recruits were to be drilled. +I myself told him so,' said the Subadar-Major. 'He was a +well-conducted man. He said he could wait.'</p> +<p>'But when permission was granted, those two took four days' +leave,' the Chaplain went on.</p> +<p>'I do not think Attar Singh should have taken Baynes Sahib's +revolver. He was Baynes Sahib's orderly, and all that Sahib's +things were open to him. It was, therefore, as I count it, shame to +Attar Singh,' said the Subadar-Major.</p> +<p>'All the words had been said. There was need of arms, and how +could soldiers use Government rifles upon mere cultivators in the +fields?' the Regimental Chaplain replied. 'Moreover, the revolver +was sent back, together with a money-order for the cartridges +expended. <i>"Borrow not; but if thou borrowest, pay back +soon!"</i> That is written in the Hymns. Rutton Singh took a sword, +and he and Attar Singh went to Pishapur and, after word given, the +four brethren fell upon their persecutors in Pishapur village and +slew seventeen, wounding ten. A revolver is better than a lawsuit. +I say that these four brethren, the two with <i>us</i>, and the two +mere cultivators, slew and wounded twenty-seven--all their mother's +kin, male and female.</p> +<p>'Then the four mounted to their housetop, and Attar Singh, who +was always one of the impetuous, said "My work is done," and he +made <i>shinan</i> (purification) in all men's sight, and he lent +Rutton Singh Baynes Sahib's revolver, and Rutton Singh shot him in +the head.</p> +<p>'So Attar Singh abandoned his body, as an insect abandons a +blade of grass. But Rutton Singh, having more work to do, went down +from the housetop and sought an enemy whom he had forgotten--a +Patiala man of this regiment who had sided with the persecutors. +When he overtook the man, Rutton Singh hit him twice with bullets +and once with the sword.'</p> +<p>'But the man escaped and is now in the hospital here,' said the +Subadar-Major. 'The doctor says he will live in spite of all.'</p> +<p>'Not Rutton Singh's fault. Rutton Singh left him for dead. Then +Rutton Singh returned to the housetop, and the three brothers +together, Attar Singh being dead, sent word by a lad to the police +station for an army to be dispatched against them that they might +die with honours. But none came. And yet Patiala State is not under +English law and they should know virtue there when they see it!</p> +<p>'So, on the third day, Rutton Singh also made <i>shinan</i>, and +the youngest of the brethren shot him also in the head, and +<i>he</i> abandoned his body.</p> +<p>'Thus was all correct. There was neither heat, nor haste, nor +abuse in the matter from end to end. There remained alive not one +man or woman of their mother's kin which had oppressed them. Of the +other villagers of Pishapur, who had taken no part in the +persecutions, not one was slain. Indeed, the villagers sent them +food on the housetop for those three days while they waited for the +police who would not dispatch that army.</p> +<p>'Listen again! I know that Attar Singh and Rutton Singh omitted +no ceremony of the purifications, and when all was done Baynes +Sahib's revolver was thrown down from the housetop, together with +three rupees twelve annas; and order was given for its return by +post.'</p> +<p>'And what befell the two younger brethren who were not in the +service?' the Havildar-Major asked.</p> +<p>'Doubtless they too are dead, but since they were not in the +Regiment their honour concerns themselves only. So far as <i>we</i> +were touched, see how correctly we came out of the matter! I think +the King should be told; for where could you match such a tale +except among us Sikhs? <i>Sri wah guru ji ki Khalsa! Sri wah guru +ji ki futteh!</i>' said the Regimental Chaplain.</p> +<p>'Would three rupees twelve annas pay for the used cartridges?' +said the Havildar-Major.</p> +<p>'Attar Singh knew the just price. All Baynes Sahib's gear was in +his charge. They expended one tin box of fifty cartouches, lacking +two which were returned. As I said--as I say--the arrangement was +made not with heat nor blasphemies as a Mussulman would have made +it; not with cries nor caperings as an idolater would have made it; +but conformably to the ritual and doctrine of the Sikhs. Hear you! +<i>"Though hundreds of amusements are offered to a child it cannot +live without milk. If a man be divorced from his soul and his +soul's desire he certainly will not stop to play upon the road, but +he will make haste with his pilgrimage</i>." That is written. I +rejoice in my disciples.'</p> +<p>'True! True! Correct! Correct!' said the Subadar-Major. There +was a long, easy silence. One heard a water-wheel creaking +somewhere and the nearer sound of meal being ground in a quern.</p> +<p>'But he--' the Chaplain pointed a scornful chin at the +Havildar-Major--'<i>he</i> has been so long in England that--'</p> +<p>'Let the lad alone,' said his uncle. 'He was but two months +there, and he was chosen for good cause.'</p> +<p>Theoretically, all Sikhs are equal. Practically, there are +differences, as none know better than well-born, land-owning folk, +or long-descended chaplains from Amritsar.</p> +<p>'Hast thou heard anything in England to match my tale?' the +Chaplain sneered.</p> +<p>'I saw more than I could understand, so I have locked up my +stories in my own mouth,' the Havildar-Major replied meekly.</p> +<p>'Stories? What stories? I know all the stories about England,' +said the Chaplain. 'I know that <i>terains</i> run underneath their +bazaars there, and as for their streets stinking with <i>mota +kahars</i>, only this morning I was nearly killed by Duggan Sahib's +<i>mota-kahar</i>. That young man is a devil.'</p> +<p>'I expect Grunthi-jee,' said the Subadar-Major, 'you and I grow +too old to care for the Kahar-ki-nautch--the Bearer's dance.' He +named one of the sauciest of the old-time nautches, and smiled at +his own pun. Then he turned to his nephew. 'When I was a lad and +came back to my village on leave, I waited the convenient hour, +and, the elders giving permission, I spoke of what I had seen +elsewhere.'</p> +<p>'Ay, my father,' said the Havildar-Major, softly and +affectionately. He sat himself down with respect, as behoved a mere +lad of thirty with a bare half-dozen campaigns to his credit.</p> +<p>'There were four men in this affair also,' he began, 'and it was +an affair that touched the honour, not of one regiment, nor two, +but of all the Army in Hind. Some part of it I saw; some I heard; +but <i>all</i> the tale is true. My father's brother knows, and my +priest knows, that I was in England on business with my Colonel, +when the King--the Great Queen's son--completed his life.</p> +<p>'First, there was a rumour that sickness was upon him. Next, we +knew that he lay sick in the Palace. A very great multitude stood +outside the Palace by night and by day, in the rain as well as the +sun, waiting for news.</p> +<p>'Then came out one with a written paper, and set it upon a +gate-side--the word of the King's death--and they read, and +groaned. This I saw with my own eyes, because the office where my +Colonel Sahib went daily to talk with Colonel Forsyth Sahib was at +the east end of the very gardens where the Palace stood. They are +larger gardens than Shalimar here'--he pointed with his chin up the +lines--'or Shahdera across the river.</p> +<p>'Next day there was a darkness in the streets, because all the +city's multitude were clad in black garments, and they spoke as a +man speaks in the presence of his dead--all those multitudes. In +the eyes, in the air, and in the heart, there was blackness. I saw +it. But that is not my tale.</p> +<p>'After ceremonies had been accomplished, and word had gone out +to the Kings of the Earth that they should come and mourn, the new +King--the dead King's son--gave commandment that his father's body +should be laid, coffined, in a certain Temple which is near the +river. There are no idols in that Temple; neither any carvings, nor +paintings, nor gildings. It is all grey stone, of one colour as +though it were cut out of the live rock. It is larger than--yes, +than the Durbar Sahib at Amritsar, even though the Akal Bunga and +the Baba-Atal were added. How old it may be God knows. It is the +Sahibs' most sacred Temple.</p> +<p>'In that place, by the new King's commandment, they made, as it +were, a shrine for a saint, with lighted candles at the head and +the feet of the Dead, and duly appointed watchers for every hour of +the day and the night, until the dead King should be taken to the +place of his fathers, which is at Wanidza.</p> +<p>'When all was in order, the new King said, "Give entrance to all +people," and the doors were opened, and O my uncle! O my teacher! +all the world entered, walking through that Temple to take farewell +of the Dead. There was neither distinction, nor price, nor ranking +in the host, except an order that they should walk by fours.</p> +<p>'As they gathered in the streets without--very, very far off--so +they entered the Temple, walking by fours: the child, the old man; +mother, virgin, harlot, trader, priest; of all colours and faiths +and customs under the firmament of God, from dawn till late at +night. I saw it. My Colonel gave me leave to go. I stood in the +line, many hours, one <i>koss</i>, two <i>koss</i>, distant from +the temple.'</p> +<p>'Then why did the multitude not sit down under the trees?' asked +the priest.</p> +<p>'Because we were still between houses. The city is many +<i>koss</i> wide,' the Havildar-Major resumed. 'I submitted myself +to that slow-moving river and thus--thus--a pace at a time--I made +pilgrimage. There were in my rank a woman, a cripple, and a lascar +from the ships.</p> +<p>'When we entered the Temple, the coffin itself was as a shoal in +the Ravi River, splitting the stream into two branches, one on +either side of the Dead; and the watchers of the Dead, who were +soldiers, stood about It, moving no more than the still flame of +the candles. Their heads were bowed; their hands were clasped; +their eyes were cast upon the ground--thus. They were not men, but +images, and the multitude went past them in fours by day, and, +except for a little while, by night also.</p> +<p>'No, there was no order that the people should come to pay +respect. It was a free-will pilgrimage. Eight kings had been +commanded to come--who obeyed--but upon his own Sahibs the new King +laid no commandment. Of themselves they came.</p> +<p>'I made pilgrimage twice: once for my Salt's sake, and once +again for wonder and terror and worship. But my mouth cannot +declare one thing of a hundred thousand things in this matter. +There were <i>lakhs</i> of <i>lakhs</i>, <i>crores</i> of +<i>crores</i> of people. I saw them.'</p> +<p>'More than at our great pilgrimages?' the Regimental Chaplain +demanded.</p> +<p>'Yes. Those are only cities and districts coming out to pray. +This was the world walking in grief. And now, hear you! It is the +King's custom that four swords of Our Armies in Hind should stand +always before the Presence in case of need.'</p> +<p>'The King's custom, our right,' said the Subadar-Major +curtly.</p> +<p>'Also our right. These honoured ones are changed after certain +months or years, that the honour may be fairly spread. Now it +chanced that when the old King--the Queen's son--completed his +days, the four that stood in the Presence were Goorkhas. Neither +Sikhs alas, nor Pathans, Rajputs, nor Jats. Goorkhas, my +father.'</p> +<p>'Idolaters,' said the Chaplain.</p> +<p>'But soldiers; for I remember in the Tirah--' the Havildar-Major +began.</p> +<p>'<i>But</i> soldiers, for I remember fifteen campaigns. Go on,' +said the Subadar-Major.</p> +<p>'And it was their honour and right to furnish one who should +stand in the Presence by day and by night till It went out to +burial. There were no more than four all told--four old men to +furnish that guard.'</p> +<p>'Old? Old? What talk is this of old men?' said the +Subadar-Major.</p> +<p>'Nay. My fault! Your pardon!' The Havildar-Major spread a +deprecating hand. 'They were strong, hot, valiant men, and the +youngest was a lad of forty-five.'</p> +<p>'That is better,' the Subadar-Major laughed.</p> +<p>'But for all their strength and heat they could not eat strange +food from the Sahibs' hands. There was no cooking place in the +Temple; but a certain Colonel Forsyth Sahib, who had understanding, +made arrangement whereby they should receive at least a little +caste-clean parched grain; also cold rice maybe, and water which +was pure. Yet, at best, this was no more than a hen's mouthful, +snatched as each came off his guard. They lived on grain and were +thankful, as the saying is.</p> +<p>'One hour's guard in every four was each man's burden, for, as I +have shown, they were but four all told; and the honour of Our +Armies in Hind was on their heads. The Sahibs could draw upon all +the armies in England for the other watchers--thousands upon +thousands of fresh men--if they needed; but these four were but +four.</p> +<p>'The Sahibs drew upon the Granadeers for the other watchers. +Granadeers be very tall men under very tall bearskins, such as +Fusilier regiments wear in cold weather. Thus, when a Granadeer +bowed his head but a very little over his stock, the bearskin +sloped and showed as though he grieved exceedingly. Now the +Goorkhas wear flat, green caps--'</p> +<p>'I see, I see,' said the Subadar-Major impatiently.</p> +<p>'They are bull-necked, too; and their stocks are hard, and when +they bend deeply--deeply--to match the Granadeers--they come nigh +to choking themselves. That was a handicap against them, when it +came to the observance of ritual.</p> +<p>'Yet even with their tall, grief-declaring bearskins, the +Granadeers could not endure the full hour's guard in the Presence. +There was good cause, as I will show, why no man could endure that +terrible hour. So for them the hour's guard was cut to one-half. +What did it matter to the Sahibs? They could draw on ten thousand +Granadeers. Forsyth Sahib, who had comprehension, put this choice +also before the four, and they said, "No, ours is the Honour of the +Armies of Hind. Whatever the Sahibs do, we will suffer the full +hour."</p> +<p>'Forsyth Sahib, seeing that they were--knowing that they could +neither sleep long nor eat much, said, "Is it great suffering?" +They said, "It is great honour. We will endure."</p> +<p>'Forsyth Sahib, who loves us, said then to the eldest, "Ho, +father, tell me truly what manner of burden it is; for the full +hour's watch breaks up our men like water."</p> +<p>'The eldest answered, "Sahib, the burden is the feet of the +multitude that pass us on either side. Our eyes being lowered and +fixed, we see those feet only from the knee down--a river of feet, +Sahib, that never--never--never stops. It is not the standing +without any motion; it is not hunger; nor is it the dead part +before the dawn when maybe a single one comes here to weep. It is +the burden of the unendurable procession of feet from the knee +down, that never--never--never stops!"</p> +<p>'Forsyth Sahib said, "By God, I had not considered that! Now I +know why our men come trembling and twitching off that guard. But +at least, my father, ease the stock a little beneath the bent chin +for that one hour."</p> +<p>'The eldest said, "We are in the Presence. Moreover <i>He</i> +knew every button and braid and hook of every uniform in all His +armies."</p> +<p>'Then Forsyth Sahib said no more, except to speak about their +parched grain, but indeed they could not eat much after their hour, +nor could they sleep much because of eye-twitchings and the renewed +procession of the feet before the eyes. Yet they endured each his +full hour--not half an hour--his one full hour in each four +hours.'</p> +<p>'Correct! correct!' said the Subadar-Major and the Chaplain +together. 'We come well out of this affair.'</p> +<p>'But seeing that they were old men,' said the Subadar-Major +reflectively, 'very old men, worn out by lack of food and sleep, +could not arrangements have been made, or influence have been +secured, or a petition presented, whereby a well-born Sikh might +have eased them of some portion of their great burden, even though +his substantive rank--'</p> +<p>'Then they would most certainly have slain me,' said the +Havildar-Major with a smile.</p> +<p>'And they would have done correctly,' said the Chaplain. 'What +befell the honourable ones later?'</p> +<p>'This. The Kings of the earth and all the Armies sent flowers +and such-like to the dead King's palace at Wanidza, where the +funeral offerings were accepted. There was no order given, but all +the world made oblation. So the four took counsel--three at a +time--and either they asked Forsyth Sahib to choose flowers, or +themselves they went forth and bought flowers--I do not know; but, +however it was arranged, the flowers were bought and made in the +shape of a great drum-like circle weighing half a <i>maund</i>.</p> +<p>'Forsyth Sahib had said, "Let the flowers be sent to Wanidza +with the other flowers which all the world is sending." But they +said among themselves, "It is not fit that these flowers, which are +the offerings of His Armies in Hind, should come to the Palace of +the Presence by the hands of hirelings or messengers, or of any man +not in His service."</p> +<p>'Hearing this, Forsyth Sahib, though he was much occupied with +office-work, said, "Give me the flowers, and I will steal a time +and myself take them to Wanidza."</p> +<p>'The eldest said, "Since when has Forsyth Sahib worn sword?"</p> +<p>'Forsyth Sahib said, "But always. And I wear it in the Presence +when I put on uniform. I am a Colonel in the Armies of Hind." The +eldest said, "Of what regiment?" And Forsyth Sahib looked on the +carpet and pulled the hair of his lip. He saw the trap.'</p> +<p>'Forsyth Sahib's regiment was once the old Forty-sixth Pathans +which was called--' the Subadar-Major gave the almost forgotten +title, adding that he had met them in such and such campaigns, when +Forsyth Sahib was a young captain.</p> +<p>The Havildar-Major took up the tale, saying, 'The eldest knew +that also, my father. He laughed, and presently Forsyth Sahib +laughed.</p> +<p>'"It is true," said Forsyth Sahib. "I have no regiment. For +twenty years I have been a clerk tied to a thick pen. Therefore I +am the more fit to be your orderly and messenger in this +business."</p> +<p>'The eldest then said, "If it were a matter of my life or the +honour of <i>any</i> of my household, it would be easy." And +Forsyth Sahib joined his hands together, half laughing, though he +was ready to weep, and he said, "Enough! I ask pardon. Which one of +you goes with the offering?"</p> +<p>'The eldest said, feigning not to have heard, "Nor must they be +delivered by a single sword--as though we were pressed for men in +His service," and they saluted and went out.'</p> +<p>'Were these things seen, or were they told thee?' said the +Subadar-Major.</p> +<p>'I both saw and heard in the office full of books and papers +where my Colonel Sahib consulted Forsyth Sahib upon the business +that had brought my Colonel Sahib to England.'</p> +<p>'And what was that business?' the Regimental Chaplain asked of a +sudden, looking full at the Havildar-Major, who returned the look +without a quiver.</p> +<p>'That was not revealed to me,' said the Havildar-Major.</p> +<p>'I heard it might have been some matter touching the integrity +of certain regiments,' the Chaplain insisted.</p> +<p>'The matter was not in any way open to my ears,' said the +Havildar-Major.</p> +<p>'Humph!' The Chaplain drew his hard road-worn feet under his +robe. 'Let us hear the tale that it is permitted thee to tell,' he +said, and the Havildar-Major went on:</p> +<p>'So then the three, having returned to the Temple, called the +fourth, who had only forty-five years, when he came off guard, and +said, "We go to the Palace at Wanidza with the offerings. Remain +thou in the Presence, and take all our guards, one after the other, +till we return."</p> +<p>'Within that next hour they hired a large and strong +<i>mota-kahar</i> for the journey from the Temple to Wanidza, which +is twenty <i>koss</i> or more, and they promised expedition. But he +who took their guards said, "It is not seemly that we should for +any cause appear to be in haste. There are eighteen medals with +eleven clasps and three Orders to consider. Go at leisure. I can +endure."</p> +<p>'So the three with the offerings were absent three hours and a +half, and having delivered the offering at Wanidza in the correct +manner they returned and found the lad on guard, and they did not +break his guard till his full hour was ended. So <i>he</i> endured +four hours in the Presence, not stirring one hair, his eyes abased, +and the river of feet, from the knee down, passing continually +before his eyes. When he was relieved, it was seen that his +eyeballs worked like weavers' shuttles.</p> +<p>'And so it was done--not in hot blood, not for a little while, +nor yet with the smell of slaughter and the noise of shouting to +sustain, but in silence, for a very long time, rooted to one place +before the Presence among the most terrible feet of the +multitude.'</p> +<p>'Correct!' the Chaplain chuckled.</p> +<p>'But the Goorkhas had the honour,' said the Subadar-Major +sadly.</p> +<p>'Theirs was the Honour of His Armies in Hind, and that was Our +Honour,' the nephew replied.</p> +<p>'Yet I would one Sikh had been concerned in it--even one +low-caste Sikh. And after?'</p> +<p>'They endured the burden until the end--until It went out of the +Temple to be laid among the older kings at Wanidza. When all was +accomplished and It was withdrawn under the earth, Forsyth Sahib +said to the four, "The King gives command that you be fed here on +meat cooked by your own cooks. Eat and take ease, my fathers."</p> +<p>'So they loosed their belts and ate. They had not eaten food +except by snatches for some long time; and when the meat had given +them strength they slept for very many hours; and it was told me +that the procession of the unendurable feet ceased to pass before +their eyes any more.'</p> +<p>He threw out one hand palm upward to show that the tale was +ended.</p> +<p>'We came well and cleanly out of it,' said the +Subadar-Major.</p> +<p>'Correct! Correct! Correct!' said the Regimental Chaplain. 'In +an evil age it is good to hear such things, and there is certainly +no doubt that this is a very evil age.'</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page239"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5"><b>JOBSON'S AMEN</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Blessed be the English and all their ways and works.</p> +<p>Cursed be the Infidels, Hereticks, and Turks!'</p> +<p>'Amen,' quo' Jobson, 'but where I used to lie</p> +<p>Was neither Candle, Bell nor Book to curse my brethren by:</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'But a palm-tree in full bearing, bowing down, bowing down,</p> +<p>To a surf that drove unsparing at the brown-walled town--</p> +<p>Conches in a temple, oil-lamps in a dome--</p> +<p>And a low moon out of Africa said: "This way home!"'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Blessed be the English and all that they profess.</p> +<p>Cursed be the Savages that prance in nakedness!'</p> +<p>'Amen,' quo' Jobson, 'but where I used to lie</p> +<p>Was neither shirt nor pantaloons to catch my brethren by:</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'But a well-wheel slowly creaking, going round, going round,</p> +<p>By a water-channel leaking over drowned, warm ground--</p> +<p>Parrots very busy in the trellised pepper-vine--</p> +<p>And a high sun over Asia shouting: "Rise and shine!"'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Blessed be the English and everything they own.</p> +<p>Cursed be the Infidels that bow to wood and stone!'</p> +<p>'Amen,' quo' Jobson, 'but where I used to lie</p> +<p>Was neither pew nor Gospelleer to save my brethren by:</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'But a desert stretched and stricken, left and right, left and +right,</p> +<p>Where the piled mirages thicken under white-hot light--</p> +<p>A skull beneath a sand-hill and a viper coiled inside--</p> +<p>And a red wind out of Libya roaring: "Run and hide!"'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'Blessed be the English and all they make or do.</p> +<p>Cursed be the Hereticks who doubt that this is true!'</p> +<p>'Amen,' quo' Jobson, 'but where I mean to die</p> +<p>Is neither rule nor calliper to judge the matter by:</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>'But Himalaya heavenward-heading, sheer and vast, sheer and +vast,</p> +<p>In a million summits bedding on the last world's past;</p> +<p>A certain sacred mountain where the scented cedars climb,</p> +<p>And--the feet of my Beloved hurrying back through Time!'</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page241"></a> +<h2>REGULUS</h2> +<h3>(1917)</h3> +<br> +<blockquote><i>Regulus, a Roman general, defeated the Carthaginians +256 B.C., but was next year defeated and taken prisoner by the +Carthaginians, who sent him to Rome with an embassy to ask for +peace or an exchange of prisoners. Regulus strongly advised the +Roman Senate to make no terms with the enemy. He then returned to +Carthage and was put to death.</i></blockquote> +<br> +<p>The Fifth Form had been dragged several times in its collective +life, from one end of the school Horace to the other. Those were +the years when Army examiners gave thousands of marks for Latin, +and it was Mr. King's hated business to defeat them.</p> +<p>Hear him, then, on a raw November morning at second lesson.</p> +<p>'Aha!' he began, rubbing his hands. '<i>Cras ingens iterabimus +aequor.</i> Our portion to-day is the Fifth Ode of the Third Book, +I believe--concerning one Regulus, a gentleman. And how often have +we been through it?'</p> +<p>'Twice, sir,' said Malpass, head of the Form.</p> +<p>Mr. King shuddered. 'Yes, twice, quite literally,' he said. +'To-day, with an eye to your Army <i>viva-voce</i> +examinations--ugh!--I shall exact somewhat freer and more florid +renditions. With feeling and comprehension if that be possible. I +except'--here his eye swept the back benches--'our friend and +companion Beetle, from whom, now as always, I demand an absolutely +literal translation.' The form laughed subserviently.</p> +<p>'Spare his blushes! Beetle charms us first.'</p> +<p>Beetle stood up, confident in the possession of a guaranteed +construe, left behind by M'Turk, who had that day gone into the +sick-house with a cold. Yet he was too wary a hand to show +confidence.</p> +<p>'<i>Credidimus</i>, we--believe--we have believed,' he opened in +hesitating slow time, '<i>tonantem Joven</i>, thundering +Jove--<i>regnare</i>, to reign--<i>caelo</i>, in heaven. +<i>Augustus</i>, Augustus--<i>habebitur</i>, will be held or +considered--<i>praesens divus</i>, a present God--<i>adjectis +Britannis</i>, the Britons being added--<i>imperio</i>, to the +Empire--<i>gravibusque Persis</i>, with the heavy--er, stern +Persians.'</p> +<p>'What?'</p> +<p>'The grave or stern Persians.' Beetle pulled up with the +'Thank-God-I-have-done-my-duty' air of Nelson in the cockpit.</p> +<p>'I am quite aware,' said King, 'that the first stanza is about +the extent of your knowledge, but continue, sweet one, continue. +<i>Gravibus</i>, by the way, is usually translated as +"troublesome."'</p> +<p>Beetle drew a long and tortured breath. The second stanza (which +carries over to the third) of that Ode is what is technically +called a 'stinker.' But M'Turk had done him handsomely.</p> +<p>'<i>Milesne Crassi</i>, had--has the soldier of +Crassus--<i>vixit</i>, lived--<i>turpis maritus</i>, a disgraceful +husband--'</p> +<p>'You slurred the quantity of the word after <i>turpis</i>,' said +King. 'Let's hear it.'</p> +<p>Beetle guessed again, and for a wonder hit the correct quantity. +'Er--a disgraceful husband--<i>conjuge barbara</i>, with a +barbarous spouse.'</p> +<p>'Why do you select <i>that</i> disgustful equivalent out of all +the dictionary?' King snapped. 'Isn't "wife" good enough for +you?'</p> +<p>'Yes, sir. But what do I do about this bracket, sir? Shall I +take it now?'</p> +<p>'Confine yourself at present to the soldier of Crassus.'</p> +<p>'Yes, sir. <i>Et</i>, and--<i>consenuit</i>, has he grown +old--<i>in armis</i>, in the--er--arms--<i>hositum socerorum</i>, +of his father-in-law's enemies.'</p> +<p>'Who? How? Which?'</p> +<p>'Arms of his enemies' fathers-in-law, sir.'</p> +<p>'Tha-anks. By the way, what meaning might you attach to <i>in +armis</i>?'</p> +<p>'Oh, weapons--weapons of war, sir.' There was a virginal note in +Beetle's voice as though he had been falsely accused of uttering +indecencies. 'Shall I take the bracket now, sir?'</p> +<p>'Since it seems to be troubling you.'</p> +<p>'<i>Pro Curia</i>, O for the Senate House--<i>inversique +mores</i>, and manners upset--upside down.'</p> +<p>'Ve-ry like your translation. Meantime, the soldier of +Crassus?'</p> +<p>'<i>Sub rege Medo</i>, under a Median King--<i>Marsus et +Apulus</i>, he being a Marsian and an Apulian.'</p> +<p>'Who? The Median King?'</p> +<p>'No, sir. The soldier of Crassus. <i>Oblittus</i> agrees with +<i>milesne Crassi</i>, sir,' volunteered too-hasty Beetle.</p> +<p>'Does it? It doesn't with <i>me</i>.'</p> +<p>'<i>Oh-blight-us</i>,' Beetle corrected hastily, +'forgetful--<i>anciliorum</i>, of the shields, or trophies--<i>et +nominis</i>, and the--his name--<i>et togae</i>, and the +toga--<i>eternaeque Vestae</i>, and eternal Vesta--<i>incolumi +Jove</i>, Jove being safe--<i>et urbe Roma</i>, and the Roman +city.' With an air of hardly restrained zeal--'Shall I go on, +sir?'</p> +<p>Mr. King winced. 'No, thank you. You have indeed given us a +translation! May I ask if it conveys any meaning whatever to your +so-called mind?'</p> +<p>'Oh, I think so, sir.' This with gentle toleration for Horace +and all his works.</p> +<p>'We envy you. Sit down.'</p> +<p>Beetle sat down relieved, well knowing that a reef of uncharted +genitives stretched ahead of him, on which in spite of M'Turk's +sailing-directions he would infallibly have been wrecked.</p> +<p>Rattray, who took up the task, steered neatly through them and +came unscathed to port.</p> +<p>'Here we require drama,' said King. 'Regulus himself is speaking +now. Who shall represent the provident-minded Regulus? Winton, will +you kindly oblige?'</p> +<p>Winton of King's House, a long, heavy, tow-headed Second Fifteen +forward, overdue for his First Fifteen colours, and in aspect like +an earnest, elderly horse, rose up, and announced, among other +things, that he had seen 'signs affixed to Punic deluges.' Half the +Form shouted for joy, and the other half for joy that there was +something to shout about.</p> +<p>Mr. King opened and shut his eyes with great swiftness. +'<i>Signa adfixa delubris</i>,' he gasped. 'So <i>delubris</i> is +"deluges" is it? Winton, in all our dealings, have I ever suspected +you of a jest?'</p> +<p>'No, sir,' said the rigid and angular Winton, while the Form +rocked about him.</p> +<p>'And yet you assert <i>delubris</i> means "deluges." Whether I +am a fit subject for such a jape is, of course, a matter of +opinion, but.... Winton, you are normally conscientious. May we +assume you looked out <i>delubris</i>?'</p> +<p>'No, sir.' Winton was privileged to speak that truth dangerous +to all who stand before Kings.</p> +<p>''Made a shot at it then?'</p> +<p>Every line of Winton's body showed he had done nothing of the +sort. Indeed, the very idea that 'Pater' Winton (and a boy is not +called 'Pater' by companions for his frivolity) would make a shot +at anything was beyond belief. But he replied, 'Yes,' and all the +while worked with his right heel as though he were heeling a ball +at punt-about.</p> +<p>Though none dared to boast of being a favourite with King, the +taciturn, three-cornered Winton stood high in his House-Master's +opinion. It seemed to save him neither rebuke nor punishment, but +the two were in some fashion sympathetic.</p> +<p>'Hm!' said King drily. 'I was going to say--<i>Flagito additis +damnum</i>, but I think--I think I see the process. Beetle, the +translation of <i>delubris</i>, please.'</p> +<p>Beetle raised his head from his shaking arm long enough to +answer: 'Ruins, sir.'</p> +<p>There was an impressive pause while King checked off crimes on +his fingers. Then to Beetle the much-enduring man addressed winged +words:</p> +<p>'Guessing,' said he. 'Guessing, Beetle, as usual, from the look +of <i>delubris</i> that it bore some relation to <i>diluvium</i> or +deluge, you imparted the result of your half-baked lucubrations to +Winton who seems to have been lost enough to have accepted it. +Observing next, your companion's fall, from the presumed security +of your undistinguished position in the rear-guard, you took +another pot-shot. The turbid chaos of your mind threw up some +memory of the word "dilapidations" which you have pitifully +attempted to disguise under the synonym of "ruins."'</p> +<p>As this was precisely what Beetle had done he looked hurt but +forgiving. 'We will attend to this later,' said King. 'Go on, +Winton, and retrieve yourself.'</p> +<p><i>Delubris</i> happened to be the one word which Winton had not +looked out and had asked Beetle for, when they were settling into +their places. He forged ahead with no further trouble. Only when he +rendered <i>scilicet</i> as 'forsooth,' King erupted.</p> +<p>'Regulus,' he said, 'was not a leader-writer for the penny +press, nor, for that matter, was Horace. Regulus says: "The soldier +ransomed by gold will come keener for the fight--will he by--by +gum!" <i>That's</i> the meaning of <i>scilicet</i>. It indicates +contempt--bitter contempt. "Forsooth," forsooth! You'll be talking +about "speckled beauties" and "eventually transpire" next. Howell, +what do you make of that doubled "Vidi ego--ego vidi"? It wasn't +put in to fill up the metre, you know.'</p> +<p>'Isn't it intensive, sir?' said Howell, afflicted by a genuine +interest in what he read. 'Regulus was a bit in earnest about Rome +making no terms with Carthage--and he wanted to let the Romans +understand it, didn't he, sir?'</p> +<p>'Less than your usual grace, but the fact. Regulus <i>was</i> in +earnest. He was also engaged at the same time in cutting his own +throat with every word he uttered. He knew Carthage which (your +examiners won't ask you this so you needn't take notes) was a sort +of God-forsaken nigger Manchester. Regulus was not thinking about +his own life. He was telling Rome the truth. He was playing for his +side. Those lines from the eighteenth to the fortieth ought to be +written in blood. Yet there are things in human garments which will +tell you that Horace was a flâneur--a man about town. Avoid +such beings. Horace knew a very great deal. <i>He</i> knew! <i>Erit +ille fortis</i>--"will he be brave who once to faithless foes has +knelt?" And again (stop pawing with your hooves, Thornton!) <i>hic +unde vitam sumeret inscius</i>. That means roughly--but I perceive +I am ahead of my translators. Begin at <i>hic unde</i>, Vernon, and +let us see if you have the spirit of Regulus.'</p> +<p>Now no one expected fireworks from gentle Paddy Vernon, +sub-prefect of Hartopp's House, but, as must often be the case with +growing boys, his mind was in abeyance for the time being, and he +said, all in a rush, on behalf of Regulus: '<i>O magna Carthago +probrosis altior Italiae ruinis</i>, O Carthage, thou wilt stand +forth higher than the ruins of Italy.'</p> +<p>Even Beetle, most lenient of critics, was interested at this +point, though he did not join the half-groan of reprobation from +the wiser heads of the Form.</p> +<p>'<i>Please</i> don't mind me,' said King, and Vernon very kindly +did not. He ploughed on thus: 'He (Regulus) is related to have +removed from himself the kiss of the shameful wife and of his small +children as less by the head, and, being stern, to have placed his +virile visage on the ground.'</p> +<p>Since King loved 'virile' about as much as he did 'spouse' or +'forsooth' the Form looked up hopefully. But Jove thundered +not.</p> +<p>'Until,' Vernon continued, 'he should have confirmed the sliding +fathers as being the author of counsel never given under an +alias.'</p> +<p>He stopped, conscious of stillness round him like the dread calm +of the typhoon's centre. King's opening voice was sweeter than +honey.</p> +<p>'I am painfully aware by bitter experience that I cannot give +you any idea of the passion, the power, the--the essential guts of +the lines which you have so foully outraged in our presence. But--' +the note changed, 'so far as in me lies, I will strive to bring +home to you, Vernon, the fact that there exist in Latin a few +pitiful rules of grammar, of syntax, nay, even of declension, which +were not created for your incult sport--your Boeotian diversion. +You will, therefore, Vernon, write out and bring to me to-morrow a +word-for-word English-Latin translation of the Ode, together with a +full list of all adjectives--an adjective is not a verb, Vernon, as +the Lower Third will tell you--all adjectives, their number, case, +and gender. Even now I haven't begun to deal with you +faithfully.'</p> +<p>'I--I'm very sorry, sir,' Vernon stammered.</p> +<p>'You mistake the symptoms, Vernon. You are possibly discomfited +by the imposition, but sorrow postulates some sort of mind, +intellect, <i>nous</i>. Your rendering of <i>probrosis</i> alone +stamps you as lower than the beasts of the field. Will some one +take the taste out of our mouths? And--talking of tastes--' He +coughed. There was a distinct flavour of chlorine gas in the air. +Up went an eyebrow, though King knew perfectly well what it +meant.</p> +<p>'Mr. Hartopp's st--science class next door,' said Malpass.</p> +<p>'Oh yes. I had forgotten. Our newly established Modern Side, of +course. Perowne, open the windows; and Winton, go on once more from +<i>interque maerentes</i>.'</p> +<p>'And hastened away,' said Winton, 'surrounded by his mourning +friends, into--into illustrious banishment. But I got that out of +Conington, sir,' he added in one conscientious breath.</p> +<p>'I am aware. The master generally knows his ass's crib, though I +acquit <i>you</i> of any intention that way. Can you suggest +anything for <i>egregius exul</i>? Only "egregious exile"? I fear +"egregious" is a good word ruined. No! You can't in this case +improve on Conington. Now then for <i>atqui sciebat quae sibi +barbarus tortor pararet</i>. The whole force of it lies in the +<i>atqui</i>.'</p> +<p>'Although he knew,' Winton suggested.</p> +<p>'Stronger than that, I think.'</p> +<p>'He who knew well,' Malpass interpolated.</p> +<p>'Ye-es. "Well though he knew." I don't like Conington's +"well-witting." It's Wardour Street.'</p> +<p>'Well though he knew what the savage torturer was--was getting +ready for him,' said Winton.</p> +<p>'Ye-es. Had in store for him.'</p> +<p>'Yet he brushed aside his kinsmen and the people delaying his +return.'</p> +<p>'Ye-es; but then how do you render <i>obstantes</i>?'</p> +<p>'If it's a free translation mightn't <i>obstantes</i> and +<i>morantem</i> come to about the same thing, sir?'</p> +<p>'Nothing comes to "about the same thing" with Horace, Winton. As +I have said, Horace was not a journalist. No, I take it that his +kinsmen bodily withstood his departure, whereas the +crowd--<i>populumque</i>--the democracy stood about futilely +pitying him and getting in the way. Now for that noblest of +endings--<i>quam si clientum</i>,' and King ran off into the +quotation:</p> +<blockquote>'As though some tedious business o'er<br> +Of clients' court, his journey lay<br> +Towards Venafrum's grassy floor<br> +Or Sparta-built Tarentum's bay.</blockquote> +<p>All right, Winton. Beetle, when you've quite finished dodging +the fresh air yonder, give me the meaning of <i>tendens</i>--and +turn down your collar.'</p> +<p>'Me, sir? <i>Tendens</i>, sir? Oh! Stretching away in the +direction of, sir.'</p> +<p>'Idiot! Regulus was not a feature of the landscape. He was a +man, self-doomed to death by torture. <i>Atqui, +sciebat</i>--knowing it--having achieved it for his country's +sake--can't you hear that <i>atqui</i> cut like a knife?--he moved +off with some dignity. That is why Horace out of the whole golden +Latin tongue chose the one word "tendens"--which is utterly +untranslatable.'</p> +<p>The gross injustice of being asked to translate it, converted +Beetle into a young Christian martyr, till King buried his nose in +his handkerchief again.</p> +<p>'I think they've broken another gas-bottle next door, sir,' said +Howell. 'They're always doing it.' The Form coughed as more +chlorine came in.</p> +<p>'Well, I suppose we must be patient with the Modern Side,' said +King. 'But it is almost insupportable for this Side. Vernon, what +are you grinning at?'</p> +<p>Vernon's mind had returned to him glowing and inspired. He +chuckled as he underlined his Horace.</p> +<p>'It appears to amuse you,' said King. 'Let us participate. What +is it?'</p> +<p>'The last two lines of the Tenth Ode, in this book, sir,' was +Vernon's amazing reply.</p> +<p>'What? Oh, I see. <i>Non hoc semper erit liminis aut aquae +caelestis patiens latus</i><a name="FNanchor2"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_2">[2]</a>.' King's mouth twitched to hide a grin. 'Was +that done with intention?'</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor2">[2]</a> +'This side will not always be patient of rain and waiting on the +threshold.'</blockquote> +<p>'I--I thought it fitted, sir.'</p> +<p>'It does. It's distinctly happy. What put it into your thick +head, Paddy?'</p> +<p>'I don't know, sir, except we did the Ode last term.'</p> +<p>'And you remembered? The same head that minted <i>probrosis</i> +as a verb! Vernon, you are an enigma. No! This Side will <i>not</i> +always be patient of unheavenly gases and waters. I will make +representations to our so-called Moderns. Meantime (who shall say I +am not just?) I remit you your accrued pains and penalties in +regard to <i>probrosim, probrosis, probrosit</i> and other +enormities. I oughtn't to do it, but this Side is occasionally +human. By no means bad, Paddy.'</p> +<p>'Thank you, sir,' said Vernon, wondering how inspiration had +visited him.</p> +<p>Then King, with a few brisk remarks about Science, headed them +back to Regulus, of whom and of Horace and Rome and evil-minded +commercial Carthage and of the democracy eternally futile, he +explained, in all ages and climes, he spoke for ten minutes; +passing thence to the next Ode--<i>Delicta Majorum</i>--where he +fetched up, full-voiced, upon--'<i>Dis te minorem quod geris +imperas</i>' (Thou rulest because thou bearest thyself as lower +than the Gods)--making it a text for a discourse on manners, +morals, and respect for authority as distinct from bottled gases, +which lasted till the bell rang. Then Beetle, concertinaing his +books, observed to Winton, 'When King's really on tap he's an +interestin' dog. Hartopp's chlorine uncorked him.'</p> +<p>'Yes; but why did you tell me <i>delubris</i> was "deluges," you +silly ass?' said Winton.</p> +<p>'Well, that uncorked him too. Look out, you hoof-handed old +owl!' Winton had cleared for action as the Form poured out like +puppies at play and was scragging Beetle. Stalky from behind +collared Winton low. The three fell in confusion.</p> +<p>'<i>Dis te minorem quod geris imperas</i>,' quoth Stalky, +ruffling Winton's lint-white locks. 'Mustn't jape with Number Five +study. Don't be too virtuous. Don't brood over it. 'Twon't count +against you in your future caree-ah. Cheer up, Pater.'</p> +<p>'Pull him off my--er--essential guts, will you?' said Beetle +from beneath. 'He's squashin' 'em.'</p> +<p>They dispersed to their studies.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>No one, the owner least of all, can explain what is in a growing +boy's mind. It might have been the blind ferment of adolescence; +Stalky's random remarks about virtue might have stirred him; like +his betters he might have sought popularity by way of clowning; or, +as the Head asserted years later, the only known jest of his +serious life might have worked on him, as a sober-sided man's one +love colours and dislocates all his after days. But, at the next +lesson, mechanical drawing with Mr. Lidgett who as drawing-master +had very limited powers of punishment, Winton fell suddenly from +grace and let loose a live mouse in the form-room. The whole form, +shrieking and leaping high, threw at it all the plaster cones, +pyramids, and fruit in high relief--not to mention ink-pots--that +they could lay hands on. Mr. Lidgett reported at once to the Head; +Winton owned up to his crime, which, venial in the Upper Third, +pardonable at a price in the Lower Fourth, was, of course, rank +ruffianism on the part of a Fifth Form boy; and so, by graduated +stages, he arrived at the Head's study just before lunch, penitent, +perturbed, annoyed with himself and--as the Head said to King in +the corridor after the meal--more human than he had known him in +seven years.</p> +<p>'You see,' the Head drawled on, 'Winton's only fault is a +certain costive and unaccommodating virtue. So this comes very +happily.'</p> +<p>'I've never noticed any sign of it,' said King. Winton was in +King's House, and though King as pro-consul might, and did, +infernally oppress his own Province, once a black and yellow cap +was in trouble at the hands of the Imperial authority King fought +for him to the very last steps of Caesar's throne.</p> +<p>'Well, you yourself admitted just now that a mouse was beneath +the occasion,' the Head answered.</p> +<p>'It was.' Mr. King did not love Mr. Lidgett. 'It should have +been a rat. But--but--I hate to plead it--it's the lad's first +offence.'</p> +<p>'Could you have damned him more completely, King?'</p> +<p>'Hm. What is the penalty?' said King, in retreat, but keeping up +a rear-guard action.</p> +<p>'Only my usual few lines of Virgil to be shown up by +tea-time.'</p> +<p>The Head's eyes turned slightly to that end of the corridor +where Mullins, Captain of the Games ('Pot,' 'old Pot,' or +'Potiphar' Mullins), was pinning up the usual Wednesday +notice--'Big, Middle, and Little Side Football--A to K, L to Z, 3 +to 4.45 P.M.'</p> +<p>You cannot write out the Head's usual few (which means five +hundred) Latin lines and play football for one hour and +three-quarters between the hours of 1.30 and 5 P.M. Winton had +evidently no intention of trying to do so, for he hung about the +corridor with a set face and an uneasy foot. Yet it was law in the +school, compared with which that of the Medes and Persians was no +more than a non-committal resolution, that any boy, outside the +First Fifteen, who missed his football for any reason whatever, and +had not a written excuse, duly signed by competent authority to +explain his absence, would receive not less than three strokes with +a ground-ash from the Captain of the Games, generally a youth +between seventeen and eighteen years, rarely under eleven stone +('Pot' was nearer thirteen), and always in hard condition.</p> +<p>King knew without inquiry that the Head had given Winton no such +excuse.</p> +<p>'But he is practically a member of the First Fifteen. He has +played for it all this term,' said King. 'I believe his Cap should +have arrived last week.'</p> +<p>'His Cap has not been given him. Officially, therefore, he is +naught. I rely on old Pot.'</p> +<p>'But Mullins is Winton's study-mate,' King persisted.</p> +<p>Pot Mullins and Pater Winton were cousins and rather close +friends.</p> +<p>'That will make no difference to Mullins--or Winton, if I know +'em,' said the Head.</p> +<p>'But--but,' King played his last card desperately, 'I was going +to recommend Winton for extra sub-prefect in my House, now Carton +has gone.'</p> +<p>'Certainly,' said the Head. 'Why not? He will be excellent by +tea-time, I hope.'</p> +<p>At that moment they saw Mr. Lidgett, tripping down the corridor, +waylaid by Winton.</p> +<p>'It's about that mouse-business at mechanical drawing,' Winton +opened, swinging across his path.</p> +<p>'Yes, yes, highly disgraceful,' Mr. Lidgett panted.</p> +<p>'I know it was,' said Winton. 'It--it was a cad's trick +because--'</p> +<p>'Because you knew I couldn't give you more than fifty lines,' +said Mr. Lidgett.</p> +<p>'Well, anyhow I've come to apologise for it.'</p> +<p>'Certainly,' said Mr. Lidgett, and added, for he was a kindly +man, 'I think that shows quite right feeling. I'll tell the Head at +once I'm satisfied.'</p> +<p>'No--no!' The boy's still unmended voice jumped from the growl +to the squeak. 'I didn't mean <i>that</i>! I--I did it on +principle. Please don't--er--do anything of that kind.'</p> +<p>Mr. Lidgett looked him up and down and, being an artist, +understood.</p> +<p>'Thank you, Winton,' he said. 'This shall be between +ourselves.'</p> +<p>'You heard?' said King, indecent pride in his voice.</p> +<p>'Of course. You thought he was going to get Lidgett to beg him +off the impot.'</p> +<p>King denied this with so much warmth that the Head laughed and +King went away in a huff.</p> +<p>'By the way,' said the Head, 'I've told Winton to do his lines +in your form-room--not in his study.'</p> +<p>'Thanks,' said King over his shoulder, for the Head's orders had +saved Winton and Mullins, who was doing extra Army work in the +study, from an embarrassing afternoon together.</p> +<p>An hour later, King wandered into his still form-room as though +by accident. Winton was hard at work.</p> +<p>'Aha!' said King, rubbing his hands. 'This does not look like +games, Winton. Don't let me arrest your facile pen. Whence this +sudden love for Virgil?'</p> +<p>'Impot from the Head, sir, for that mouse-business this +morning.'</p> +<p>'Rumours thereof have reached us. That was a lapse on your part +into Lower Thirdery which I don't quite understand.'</p> +<p>The 'tump-tump' of the puntabouts before the sides settled to +games came through the open window. Winton, like his House-Master, +loved fresh air. Then they heard Paddy Vernon, sub-prefect on duty, +calling the roll in the field and marking defaulters. Winton wrote +steadily. King curled himself up on a desk, hands round knees. One +would have said that the man was gloating over the boy's +misfortune, but the boy understood.</p> +<p>'<i>Dis te minorem quod geris imperas</i>,' King quoted +presently. 'It is necessary to bear oneself as lower than the local +gods--even than drawing-masters who are precluded from effective +retaliation. I <i>do</i> wish you'd tried that mouse-game with me, +Pater.'</p> +<p>Winton grinned; then sobered 'It was a cad's trick, sir, to play +on Mr. Lidgett.' He peered forward at the page he was copying.</p> +<p>'Well, "the sin <i>I</i> impute to each frustrate ghost"--' King +stopped himself. 'Why do you goggle like an owl? Hand me the +Mantuan and I'll dictate. No matter. Any rich Virgilian measures +will serve. I may peradventure recall a few.' He began:</p> +<blockquote>'Tu regere imperio populos Romane memento<br> +Hae tibi erunt artes pacisque imponere morem,<br> +Parcere subjectis et debellare superbos.</blockquote> +<p>There you have it all, Winton. Write that out twice and yet once +again.'</p> +<p>For the next forty minutes, with never a glance at the book, +King paid out the glorious hexameters (and King could read Latin as +though it were alive), Winton hauling them in and coiling them away +behind him as trimmers in a telegraph-ship's hold coil away +deep-sea cable. King broke from the Aeneid to the Georgics and back +again, pausing now and then to translate some specially loved line +or to dwell on the treble-shot texture of the ancient fabric. He +did not allude to the coming interview with Mullins except at the +last, when he said, 'I think at this juncture, Pater, I need not +ask you for the precise significance of <i>atqui sciebat quae sibi +barbarus tortor</i>.'</p> +<p>The ungrateful Winton flushed angrily, and King loafed out to +take five o'clock call-over, after which he invited little Hartopp +to tea and a talk on chlorine-gas. Hartopp accepted the challenge +like a bantam, and the two went up to King's study about the same +time as Winton returned to the form-room beneath it to finish his +lines.</p> +<p>Then half a dozen of the Second Fifteen, who should have been +washing, strolled in to condole with 'Pater' Winton, whose +misfortune and its consequences were common talk. No one was more +sincere than the long, red-headed, knotty-knuckled 'Paddy' Vernon, +but, being a careless animal, he joggled Winton's desk.</p> +<p>'Curse you for a silly ass!' said Winton. 'Don't do that.'</p> +<p>No one is expected to be polite while under punishment, so +Vernon, sinking his sub-prefectship, replied peacefully enough:</p> +<p>'Well, don't be wrathy, Pater.'</p> +<p>'I'm not,' said Winton. 'Get out! This ain't your House +form-room.'</p> +<p>''Form-room don't belong to you. Why don't you go to your own +study?' Vernon replied.</p> +<p>'Because Mullins is there waitin' for the victim,' said Stalky +delicately, and they all laughed. 'You ought to have shaken that +mouse out of your trouser-leg, Pater. That's the way <i>I</i> did +in my youth. Pater's revertin' to his second childhood. Never mind, +Pater, we all respect you and your future caree-ah.'</p> +<p>Winton, still writhing, growled. Vernon leaning on the desk +somehow shook it again. Then he laughed.</p> +<p>'What are you grinning at?' Winton asked.</p> +<p>'I was only thinkin' of <i>you</i> being sent up to take a +lickin' from Pot. I swear I don't think it's fair. You've never +shirked a game in your life, and you're as good as in the First +Fifteen already. Your Cap ought to have been delivered last week, +oughtn't it?'</p> +<p>It was law in the school that no man could by any means enjoy +the privileges and immunities of the First Fifteen till the black +velvet cap with the gold tassel, made by dilatory Exeter +outfitters, had been actually set on his head. Ages ago, a +large-built and unruly Second Fifteen had attempted to change this +law, but the prefects of that age were still larger, and the lively +experiment had never been repeated.</p> +<p>'Will you,' said Winton very slowly, 'kindly mind your own +damned business, you cursed, clumsy, fat-headed fool?'</p> +<p>The form-room was as silent as the empty field in the darkness +outside. Vernon shifted his feet uneasily.</p> +<p>'Well, <i>I</i> shouldn't like to take a lickin' from Pot,' he +said.</p> +<p>'Wouldn't you?' Winton asked, as he paged the sheets of lines +with hands that shook.</p> +<p>'No, I shouldn't,' said Vernon, his freckles growing more +distinct on the bridge of his white nose.</p> +<p>'Well, I'm going to take it'--Winton moved clear of the desk as +he spoke. 'But <i>you're</i> going to take a lickin' from me +first.' Before any one realised it, he had flung himself neighing +against Vernon. No decencies were observed on either side, and the +rest looked on amazed. The two met confusedly, Vernon trying to do +what he could with his longer reach; Winton, insensible to blows, +only concerned to drive his enemy into a corner and batter him to +pulp. This he managed over against the fire-place, where Vernon +dropped half-stunned. 'Now I'm going to give you your lickin',' +said Winton. 'Lie there till I get a ground-ash and I'll cut you to +pieces. If you move, I'll chuck you out of the window.' He wound +his hands into the boy's collar and waistband, and had actually +heaved him half off the ground before the others with one accord +dropped on his head, shoulders, and legs. He fought them crazily in +an awful hissing silence. Stalky's sensitive nose was rubbed along +the floor; Beetle received a jolt in the wind that sent him +whistling and crowing against the wall; Perowne's forehead was cut, +and Malpass came out with an eye that explained itself like a dying +rainbow through a whole week.</p> +<p>'Mad! Quite mad!' said Stalky, and for the third time wriggled +back to Winton's throat. The door opened and King came in, +Hartopp's little figure just behind him. The mound on the floor +panted and heaved but did not rise, for Winton still squirmed +vengefully. 'Only a little play, sir,' said Perowne. ''Only hit my +head against a form.' This was quite true.</p> +<p>'Oh,' said King. '<i>Dimovit obstantes propinquos.</i> You, I +presume, are the <i>populus</i> delaying Winton's return +to--Mullins, eh?'</p> +<p>'No, sir,' said Stalky behind his claret-coloured handkerchief. +'We're the <i>maerentes amicos</i>.'</p> +<p>'Not bad! You see, some of it sticks after all,' King chuckled +to Hartopp, and the two masters left without further inquiries.</p> +<p>The boys sat still on the now-passive Winton.</p> +<p>'Well,' said Stalky at last, 'of all the putrid he-asses, Pater, +you are <i>the</i>--'</p> +<p>'I'm sorry. I'm awfully sorry,' Winton began, and they let him +rise. He held out his hand to the bruised and bewildered Vernon. +'Sorry, Paddy. I--I must have lost my temper. I--I don't know +what's the matter with me.'</p> +<p>''Fat lot of good that'll do my face at tea,' Vernon grunted. +'Why couldn't you say there was something wrong with you instead of +lamming out like a lunatic? Is my lip puffy?'</p> +<p>'Just a trifle. Look at my beak! Well, we got all these pretty +marks at footer--owin' to the zeal with which we played the game,' +said Stalky, dusting himself. 'But d'you think you're fit to be let +loose again, Pater? 'Sure you don't want to kill another +sub-prefect? I wish <i>I</i> was Pot. I'd cut your sprightly young +soul out.'</p> +<p>'I s'pose I ought to go to Pot now,' said Winton.</p> +<p>'And let all the other asses see you lookin' like this! Not +much. We'll all come up to Number Five Study and wash off in hot +water. Beetle, you aren't damaged. Go along and light the +gas-stove.'</p> +<p>'There's a tin of cocoa in my study somewhere,' Perowne shouted +after him. 'Rootle round till you find it, and take it up.'</p> +<p>Separately, by different roads, Vernon's jersey pulled half over +his head, the boys repaired to Number Five Study. Little Hartopp +and King, I am sorry to say, leaned over the banisters of King's +landing and watched.</p> +<p>'Ve-ry human,' said little Hartopp. 'Your virtuous Winton, +having got himself into trouble, takes it out of my poor old Paddy. +I wonder what precise lie Paddy will tell about his face.'</p> +<p>'But surely you aren't going to embarrass him by asking?' said +King.</p> +<p>'<i>Your</i> boy won,' said Hartopp.</p> +<p>'To go back to what we were discussing,' said King quickly, 'do +you pretend that your modern system of inculcating unrelated facts +about chlorine, for instance, all of which may be proved fallacies +by the time the boys grow up, can have any real bearing on +education--even the low type of it that examiners expect?'</p> +<p>'I maintain nothing. But is it any worse than your Chinese +reiteration of uncomprehended syllables in a dead tongue?'</p> +<p>'Dead, forsooth!' King fairly danced. 'The only living tongue on +earth! Chinese! On my word, Hartopp!'</p> +<p>'And at the end of seven years--how often have I said it?' +Hartopp went on,--'seven years of two hundred and twenty days of +six hours each, your victims go away with nothing, absolutely +nothing, except, perhaps, if they've been very attentive, a +dozen--no, I'll grant you twenty--one score of totally unrelated +Latin tags which any child of twelve could have absorbed in two +terms.'</p> +<p>'But--but can't you realise that if our system brings later--at +any rate--at a pinch--a simple understanding--grammar and Latinity +apart--a mere glimpse of the significance (foul word!) of, we'll +say, one Ode of Horace, one twenty lines of Virgil, we've got what +we poor devils of ushers are striving after?'</p> +<p>'And what might that be?' said Hartopp.</p> +<p>'Balance, proportion, perspective--life. Your scientific man is +the unrelated animal--the beast without background. Haven't you +ever realised <i>that</i> in your atmosphere of stinks?'</p> +<p>'Meantime you make them lose life for the sake of living, +eh?'</p> +<p>'Blind again, Hartopp! I told you about Paddy's quotation this +morning. (But he made <i>probrosis</i> a verb, he did!) You +yourself heard young Corkran's reference to <i>maerentes +amicos</i>. It sticks--a little of it sticks among the +barbarians.'</p> +<p>'Absolutely and essentially Chinese,' said little Hartopp, who, +alone of the common-room, refused to be outfaced by King. 'But I +don't yet understand how Paddy came to be licked by Winton. Paddy's +supposed to be something of a boxer.'</p> +<p>'Beware of vinegar made from honey,' King replied. 'Pater, like +some other people, is patient and long-suffering, but he has his +limits. The Head is oppressing him damnably, too. As I pointed out, +the boy has practically been in the First Fifteen since term +began.'</p> +<p>'But, my dear fellow, I've known you give a boy an impot and +refuse him leave off games, again and again.'</p> +<p>'Ah, but that was when there was real need to get at some oaf +who couldn't be sensitised in any other way. Now, in our esteemed +Head's action I see nothing but--'</p> +<p>The conversation from this point does not concern us.</p> +<p>Meantime Winton, very penitent and especially polite towards +Vernon, was being cheered with cocoa in Number Five Study. They had +some difficulty in stemming the flood of his apologies. He himself +pointed out to Vernon that he had attacked a sub-prefect for no +reason whatever, and, therefore, deserved official punishment.</p> +<p>'I can't think what was the matter with me to-day,' he mourned. +'Ever since that blasted mouse-business--'</p> +<p>'Well, then, don't think,' said Stalky. 'Or do you want Paddy to +make a row about it before all the school?'</p> +<p>Here Vernon was understood to say that he would see Winton and +all the school somewhere else.</p> +<p>'And if you imagine Perowne and Malpass and me are goin' to give +evidence at a prefects' meeting just to soothe your beastly +conscience, you jolly well err,' said Beetle. 'I know what you +did.'</p> +<p>'What?' croaked Pater, out of the valley of his humiliation.</p> +<p>'You went Berserk. I've read all about it in +<i>Hypatia</i>.'</p> +<p>'What's "going Berserk"?' Winton asked.</p> +<p>'Never you mind,' was the reply. 'Now, don't you feel awfully +weak and seedy?'</p> +<p>'I <i>am</i> rather tired,' said Winton, sighing.</p> +<p>'That's what you ought to be. You've gone Berserk and pretty +soon you'll go to sleep. But you'll probably be liable to fits of +it all your life,' Beetle concluded. ''Shouldn't wonder if you +murdered some one some day.'</p> +<p>'Shut up--you and your Berserks!' said Stalky. 'Go to Mullins +now and get it over, Pater.'</p> +<p>'I call it filthy unjust of the Head,' said Vernon. 'Anyhow, +you've given me my lickin', old man. I hope Pot'll give you +yours.'</p> +<p>'I'm awfully sorry--awfully sorry,' was Winton's last word.</p> +<p>It was the custom in that consulship to deal with games' +defaulters between five o'clock call-over and tea. Mullins, who was +old enough to pity, did not believe in letting boys wait through +the night till the chill of the next morning for their punishments. +He was finishing off the last of the small fry and their excuses +when Winton arrived.</p> +<p>'But, please, Mullins'--this was Babcock tertius, a dear little +twelve-year-old mother's darling--'I had an awful hack on the knee. +I've been to the Matron about it and she gave me some iodine. I've +been rubbing it in all day. I thought that would be an excuse +off.'</p> +<p>'Let's have a look at it,' said the impassive Mullins. 'That's a +shin-bruise--about a week old. Touch your toes. I'll give you the +iodine.'</p> +<p>Babcock yelled loudly as he had many times before. The face of +Jevons, aged eleven, a new boy that dark wet term, low in the +House, low in the Lower School, and lowest of all in his home-sick +little mind turned white at the horror of the sight. They could +hear his working lips part stickily as Babcock wailed his way out +of hearing.</p> +<p>'Hullo, Jevons! What brings you here?' said Mullins.</p> +<p>'Pl-ease, sir, I went for a walk with Babcock tertius.'</p> +<p>'Did you? Then I bet you went to the tuck-shop--and you paid, +didn't you?'</p> +<p>A nod. Jevons was too terrified to speak.</p> +<p>'Of course, and I bet Babcock told you that old Pot 'ud let you +off because it was the first time.'</p> +<p>Another nod with a ghost of a smile in it.</p> +<p>'All right.' Mullins picked Jevons up before he could guess what +was coming, laid him on the table with one hand, with the other +gave him three emphatic spanks, then held him high in air.</p> +<p>'Now you tell Babcock tertius that he's got you a licking from +me, and see you jolly well pay it back to him. And when you're +prefect of games don't you let any one shirk his footer without a +written excuse. Where d'you play in your game?'</p> +<p>'Forward, sir.'</p> +<p>'You can do better than that. I've seen you run like a young +buck-rabbit. Ask Dickson from me to try you as three-quarter next +game, will you? Cut along.'</p> +<p>Jevons left, warm for the first time that day, enormously set up +in his own esteem, and very hot against the deceitful Babcock.</p> +<p>Mullins turned to Winton. 'Your name's on the list, Pater.' +Winton nodded.</p> +<p>'I know it. The Head landed me with an impot for that +mouse-business at mechanical drawing. No excuse.'</p> +<p>'He meant it then?' Mullins jerked his head delicately towards +the ground-ash on the table. 'I heard something about it.'</p> +<p>Winton nodded. 'A rotten thing to do,' he said. 'Can't think +what I was doing ever to do it. It counts against a fellow so; and +there's some more too--'</p> +<p>'All right, Pater. Just stand clear of our photo-bracket, will +you?'</p> +<p>The little formality over, there was a pause. Winton swung +round, yawned in Pot's astonished face and staggered towards the +window-seat.</p> +<p>'What's the matter with you, Dick? Ill?'</p> +<p>'No. Perfectly all right, thanks. Only--only a little sleepy.' +Winton stretched himself out, and then and there fell deeply and +placidly asleep.</p> +<p>'It isn't a faint,' said the experienced Mullins, 'or his pulse +wouldn't act. 'Tisn't a fit or he'd snort and twitch. It can't be +sunstroke, this term, and he hasn't been over-training for +anything.' He opened Winton's collar, packed a cushion under his +head, threw a rug over him and sat down to listen to the regular +breathing. Before long Stalky arrived, on pretence of borrowing a +book. He looked at the window-seat.</p> +<p>''Noticed anything wrong with Winton lately?' said Mullins.</p> +<p>''Notice anything wrong with my beak?' Stalky replied. 'Pater +went Berserk after call-over, and fell on a lot of us for jesting +with him about his impot. You ought to see Malpass's eye.'</p> +<p>'You mean that Pater fought?' said Mullins.</p> +<p>'Like a devil. Then he nearly went to sleep in our study just +now. I expect he'll be all right when he wakes up. Rummy business! +Conscientious old bargee. You ought to have heard his +apologies.'</p> +<p>'But Pater can't fight one little bit,' Mullins repeated.</p> +<p>''Twasn't fighting. He just tried to murder every one.' Stalky +described the affair, and when he left Mullins went off to take +counsel with the Head, who, out of a cloud of blue smoke, told him +that all would yet be well.</p> +<p>'Winton,' said he, 'is a little stiff in his moral joints. He'll +get over that. If he asks you whether to-day's doings will count +against him in his--'</p> +<p>'But you know it's important to him, sir. His people +aren't--very well off,' said Mullins.</p> +<p>'That's why I'm taking all this trouble. You must reassure him, +Pot. I have overcrowded him with new experiences. Oh, by the way, +has his Cap come?'</p> +<p>'It came at dinner, sir.' Mullins laughed.</p> +<p>Sure enough, when he waked at tea-time, Winton proposed to take +Mullins all through every one of his day's lapses from grace, and +'Do you think it will count against me?' said he.</p> +<p>'Don't you fuss so much about yourself and your silly career,' +said Mullins. 'You're all right. And oh--here's your First Cap at +last. Shove it up on the bracket and come on to tea.'</p> +<p>They met King on their way, stepping statelily and rubbing his +hands. 'I have applied,' said he, 'for the services of an +additional sub-prefect in Carton's unlamented absence. Your name, +Winton, seems to have found favour with the powers that be, +and--and all things considered--I am disposed to give my support to +the nomination. You are therefore a quasi-lictor.'</p> +<p>'Then it didn't count against me,' Winton gasped as soon as they +were out of hearing.</p> +<p>A Captain of Games can jest with a sub-prefect publicly.</p> +<p>'You utter ass!' said Mullins, and caught him by the back of his +stiff neck and ran him down to the hall where the sub-prefects, who +sit below the salt, made him welcome with the economical +bloater-paste of mid-term.</p> +<p>King and little Hartopp were sparring in the Reverend John +Gillett's study at 10 P.M.--classical <i>versus</i> modern as +usual.</p> +<p>'Character--proportion--background,' snarled King. 'That is the +essence of the Humanities.'</p> +<p>'Analects of Confucius,' little Hartopp answered.</p> +<p>'Time,' said the Reverend John behind the soda-water. 'You men +oppress me. Hartopp, what did you say to Paddy in your dormitories +to-night? Even <i>you</i> couldn't have overlooked his face.'</p> +<p>'But I did,' said Hartopp calmly. 'I wasn't even humorous about +it as some clerics might have been. I went straight through and +said naught.'</p> +<p>'Poor Paddy! Now, for my part,' said King, 'and you know I am +not lavish in my praises, I consider Winton a first-class type; +absolutely first-class.'</p> +<p>'Ha-ardly,' said the Reverend John. 'First-class of the second +class, I admit. The very best type of second class but'--he shook +his head--'it should have been a rat. Pater'll never be anything +more than a Colonel of Engineers.'</p> +<p>'What do you base that verdict on?' said King stiffly.</p> +<p>'He came to me after prayers--with all his conscience.'</p> +<p>'Poor old Pater. Was it the mouse?' said little Hartopp.</p> +<p>'That, and what he called his uncontrollable temper, and his +responsibilities as sub-prefect.'</p> +<p>'And you?'</p> +<p>'If we had had what is vulgarly called a pi-jaw he'd have had +hysterics. So I recommended a dose of Epsom salts. He'll take it, +too--conscientiously. Don't eat me, King. Perhaps, he'll be a +K.C.B.'</p> +<p>Ten o'clock struck and the Army class boys in the further +studies coming to their houses after an hour's extra work passed +along the gravel path below. Some one was chanting, to the tune of +'White sand and grey sand,' <i>Dis te minorem quod geris +imperas</i>. He stopped outside Mullins' study. They heard Mullins' +window slide up and then Stalky's voice:</p> +<p>'Ah! Good-evening, Mullins, my <i>barbarus tortor</i>. We're the +waits. We have come to inquire after the local Berserk. Is he doin' +as well as can be expected in his new caree-ah?'</p> +<p>'Better than you will, in a sec, Stalky,' Mullins grunted.</p> +<p>'Glad of that. We thought he'd like to know that Paddy has been +carried to the sick-house in ravin' delirium. They think it's +concussion of the brain.'</p> +<p>'Why, he was all right at prayers,' Winton began earnestly, and +they heard a laugh in the background as Mullins slammed down the +window.</p> +<p>''Night, Regulus,' Stalky sang out, and the light footsteps went +on.</p> +<p>'You see. It sticks. A little of it sticks among the +barbarians,' said King.</p> +<p>'Amen,' said the Reverend John. 'Go to bed.'</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page273"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7"><b>A TRANSLATION</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7"><b>HORACE, Bk. V. <i>Ode 3</i></b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">There are whose study is of smells,</p> +<p class="i4">And to attentive schools rehearse</p> +<p class="i3">How something mixed with something else</p> +<p class="i4">Makes something worse.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Some cultivate in broths impure</p> +<p class="i4">The clients of our body--these,</p> +<p class="i3">Increasing without Venus, cure,</p> +<p class="i4">Or cause, disease.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Others the heated wheel extol,</p> +<p class="i4">And all its offspring, whose concern</p> +<p class="i3">Is how to make it farthest roll</p> +<p class="i4">And fastest turn.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Me, much incurious if the hour</p> +<p class="i4">Present, or to be paid for, brings</p> +<p class="i3">Me to Brundusium by the power</p> +<p class="i4">Of wheels or wings;</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Me, in whose breast no flame hath burned</p> +<p class="i4">Life-long, save that by Pindar lit,</p> +<p class="i3">Such lore leaves cold: I am not turned</p> +<p class="i4">Aside to it</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">More than when, sunk in thought profound</p> +<p class="i4">Of what the unaltering Gods require,</p> +<p class="i3">My steward (friend but slave) brings round</p> +<p class="i4">Logs for my fire.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page275"></a> +<h2>The Edge of the Evening</h2> +<h3>(1913)</h3> +<br> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Ah! What avails the classic bent,</p> +<p class="i6">And what the chosen word,</p> +<p class="i5">Against the undoctored incident</p> +<p class="i6">That actually occurred?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">And what is Art whereto we press</p> +<p class="i6">Through paint and prose and rhyme--</p> +<p class="i5">When Nature in her nakedness</p> +<p class="i6">Defeats us every time?</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<p>'Hi! Hi! Hold your horses! Stop!... Well! Well!' A lean man in a +sable-lined overcoat leaped from a private car and barred my way up +Pall Mall. 'You don't know me? You're excusable. I wasn't wearing +much of anything last time we met--in South Africa.'</p> +<p>The scales fell from my eyes, and I saw him once more in a +sky-blue army shirt, behind barbed wire, among Dutch prisoners +bathing at Simonstown, more than a dozen years ago<a name= +"FNanchor3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3">[3]</a>. 'Why, it's +Zigler--Laughton O. Zigler!' I cried. 'Well, I <i>am</i> glad to +see you.'</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor3">[3]</a> +'The Captive': <i>Traffics and Discoveries</i>.</blockquote> +<p>'Oh no! You don't work any of your English on me. "So glad to +see you, doncher know--an' ta-ta!" Do you reside in this +village?'</p> +<p>'No. I'm up here buying stores.'</p> +<p>'Then you take my automobile. Where to?... Oh, I know +<i>them</i>! My Lord Marshalton is one of the Directors. Pigott, +drive to the Army and Navy Cooperative Supply Association Limited, +Victoria Street, Westminister.'</p> +<p>He settled himself on the deep dove-colour pneumatic cushions, +and his smile was like the turning on of all the electrics. His +teeth were whiter than the ivory fittings. He smelt of rare soap +and cigarettes--such cigarettes as he handed me from a golden box +with an automatic lighter. On my side of the car was a gold-mounted +mirror, card and toilette case. I looked at him inquiringly.</p> +<p>'Yes,' he nodded, 'two years after I quit the Cape. She's not an +Ohio girl, though. She's in the country now. Is that right? She's +at our little place in the country. We'll go there as soon as +you're through with your grocery-list. Engagements? The only +engagement you've got is to grab your grip--get your bag from your +hotel, I mean--and come right along and meet her. You are the +captive of <i>my</i> bow and spear now.'</p> +<p>'I surrender,' I said meekly. 'Did the Zigler automatic gun do +all this?' I pointed to the car fittings.</p> +<p>'Psha! Think of your rememberin' that! Well, no. The Zigler is a +great gun--the greatest ever--but life's too short, an' too +interestin', to squander on pushing her in military society. I've +leased my rights in her to a Pennsylvanian-Transylvanian citizen +full of mentality and moral uplift. If those things weigh with the +Chancelleries of Europe, he will make good and--I shall be +surprised. Excuse me!'</p> +<p>He bared his head as we passed the statue of the Great Queen +outside Buckingham Palace.</p> +<p>'A very great lady!' said he. 'I have enjoyed her hospitality. +She represents one of the most wonderful institutions in the world. +The next is the one we are going to. Mrs. Zigler uses 'em, and they +break her up every week on returned empties.'</p> +<p>'Oh, you mean the Stores?' I said.</p> +<p>'Mrs. Zigler means it more. They are quite ambassadorial in +their outlook. I guess I'll wait outside and pray while you wrestle +with 'em.'</p> +<p>My business at the Stores finished, and my bag retrieved from +the hotel, his moving palace slid us into the country.</p> +<p>'I owe it to you,' Zigler began as smoothly as the car, 'to tell +you what I am now. I represent the business end of the American +Invasion. Not the blame cars themselves--I wouldn't be found dead +in one--but the tools that make 'em. I am the Zigler Higher-Speed +Tool and Lathe Trust. The Trust, sir, is entirely my own--in my own +inventions. I am the Renzalaer ten-cylinder aërial--the +lightest aeroplane-engine on the market--one price, one power, one +guarantee. I am the Orlebar Paper-welt, Pulp-panel Company for +aeroplane bodies; and I am the Rush Silencer for military +aeroplanes--absolutely silent--which the Continent leases under +royalty. With three exceptions, the British aren't wise to it yet. +That's all I represent at present. You saw me take off my hat to +your late Queen? I owe every cent I have to that great an' good +Lady. Yes, sir, I came out of Africa, after my eighteen months' +rest-cure and open-air treatment and sea-bathing, as her prisoner +of war, like a giant refreshed. There wasn't anything could hold +me, when I'd got my hooks into it, after that experience. And to +you as a representative British citizen, I say here and now that I +regard you as the founder of the family fortune--Tommy's and +mine.'</p> +<p>'But I only gave you some papers and tobacco.'</p> +<p>'What more does any citizen need? The Cullinan diamond wouldn't +have helped me as much then; an'--talking about South Africa, tell +me--'</p> +<p>We talked about South Africa till the car stopped at the +Georgian lodge of a great park.</p> +<p>'We'll get out here. I want to show you a rather sightly view,' +said Zigler.</p> +<p>We walked, perhaps, half a mile, across timber-dotted turf, past +a lake, entered a dark rhododendron-planted wood, ticking with the +noise of pheasants' feet, and came out suddenly, where five rides +met, at a small classic temple between lichened stucco statues +which faced a circle of turf, several acres in extent. Irish yews, +of a size that I had never seen before, walled the sunless circle +like cliffs of riven obsidian, except at the lower end, where it +gave on to a stretch of undulating bare ground ending in a timbered +slope half-a-mile away.</p> +<p>'That's where the old Marshalton race-course used to be,' said +Zigler. 'That ice-house is called Flora's Temple. Nell Gwynne and +Mrs. Siddons an' Taglioni an' all that crowd used to act plays here +for King George the Third. Wasn't it? Well, George is the only king +I play. Let it go at that. This circle was the stage, I guess. The +kings an' the nobility sat in Flora's Temple. I forget who sculped +these statues at the door. They're the Comic and Tragic Muse. But +it's a sightly view, ain't it?'</p> +<p>The sunlight was leaving the park. I caught a glint of silver to +the southward beyond the wooded ridge.</p> +<p>'That's the ocean--the Channel, I mean,' said Zigler. 'It's +twenty-three miles as a man flies. A sightly view, ain't it?'</p> +<p>I looked at the severe yews, the dumb yelling mouths of the two +statues, at the blue-green shadows on the unsunned grass, and at +the still bright plain in front where some deer were feeding.</p> +<p>'It's a most dramatic contrast, but I think it would be better +on a summer's day,' I said, and we went on, up one of the noiseless +rides, a quarter of a mile at least, till we came to the porticoed +front of an enormous Georgian pile. Four footmen revealed +themselves in a hall hung with pictures.</p> +<p>'I hired this off of my Lord Marshalton,' Zigler explained, +while they helped us out of our coats under the severe eyes of +ruffed and periwigged ancestors. 'Ya-as. They always look at +<i>me</i> too, as if I'd blown in from the gutter. Which, of +course, I have. That's Mary, Lady Marshalton. Old man Joshua +painted her. Do you see any likeness to my Lord Marshalton? Why, +haven't you ever met up with him? He was Captain Mankeltow--my +Royal British Artillery captain that blew up my gun in the war, an' +then tried to bury me against my religious principles<a name= +"FNanchor4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4">[4]</a>. Ya-as. His father +died and he got the lordship. That was about all he got by the time +that your British death-duties were through with him. So he said +I'd oblige him by hiring his ranch. It's a hell an' a half of a +proposition to handle, but Tommy--Mrs. Laughton--understands it. +Come right in to the parlour and be very welcome.'</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor4">[4]</a> +"The Captive": <i>Traffics and Discoveries</i>.</blockquote> +<p>He guided me, hand on shoulder, into a babble of high-pitched +talk and laughter that filled a vast drawing-room. He introduced me +as the founder of the family fortunes to a little, lithe, dark-eyed +woman whose speech and greeting were of the soft-lipped South. She +in turn presented me to her mother, a black-browed snowy-haired old +lady with a cap of priceless Venetian point, hands that must have +held many hearts in their time, and a dignity as unquestioned and +unquestioning as an empress. She was, indeed, a Burton of Savannah, +who, on their own ground, out-rank the Lees of Virginia. The rest +of the company came from Buffalo, Cincinnati, Cleveland and +Chicago, with here and there a softening southern strain. A party +of young folk popped corn beneath a mantelpiece surmounted by a +Gainsborough. Two portly men, half hidden by a cased harp, +discussed, over sheaves of typewritten documents, the terms of some +contract. A knot of matrons talked servants--Irish <i>versus</i> +German--across the grand piano. A youth ravaged an old bookcase, +while beside him a tall girl stared at the portrait of a woman of +many loves, dead three hundred years, but now leaping to life and +warning under the shaded frame-light. In a corner half-a-dozen +girls examined the glazed tables that held the decorations--English +and foreign--of the late Lord Marshalton.</p> +<p>'See heah! Would this be the Ordeh of the Gyartah?' one said, +pointing.</p> +<p>'I presoom likely. No! The Garter has "<i>Honey swore</i>"--I +know that much. This is "Tria juncta" something.'</p> +<p>'Oh, what's that cunning little copper cross with "For Valurr"?' +a third cried.</p> +<p>'Say! Look at here!' said the young man at the bookcase. 'Here's +a first edition of <i>Handley Cross</i> and a Beewick's +<i>Birds</i> right next to it--just like so many best sellers. +Look, Maidie!'</p> +<p>The girl beneath the picture half turned her body but not her +eyes.</p> +<p>'You don't tell <i>me</i>!' she said slowly. 'Their women +amounted to something after all.'</p> +<p>'But Woman's scope, and outlook was vurry limmutted in those +days,' one of the matrons put in, from the piano.</p> +<p>'Limmutted? For <i>her</i>? If they whurr, I guess she was the +limmut. Who was she? Peters, whurr's the cat'log?'</p> +<p>A thin butler, in charge of two footmen removing the +tea-batteries, slid to a table and handed her a blue-and-qilt book. +He was button-holed by one of the men behind the harp, who wished +to get a telephone call through to Edinburgh.</p> +<p>'The local office shuts at six,' said Peters. 'But I can get +through to'--he named some town--'in ten minutes, sir.'</p> +<p>'That suits me. You'll find me here when you've hitched up. Oh, +say, Peters! We--Mister Olpherts an' me--ain't goin' by that early +morning train to-morrow--but the other one--on the other +line--whatever they call it.'</p> +<p>'The nine twenty-seven, sir. Yes, sir. Early breakfast will be +at half-past eight and the car will be at the door at nine.'</p> +<p>'Peters!' an imperious young voice called. 'What's the matteh +with Lord Marshalton's Ordeh of the Gyartah? We cyan't find it +anyweah.'</p> +<p>'Well, miss, I <i>have</i> heard that that Order is usually +returned to His Majesty on the death of the holder. Yes, miss.' +Then in a whisper to a footman, 'More butter for the pop-corn in +King Charles's Corner.' He stopped behind my chair. 'Your room is +Number Eleven, sir. May I trouble you for your keys?'</p> +<p>He left the room with a six-year-old maiden called Alice who had +announced she would not go to bed ''less Peter, Peter, Punkin-eater +takes me--so there!'</p> +<p>He very kindly looked in on me for a moment as I was dressing +for dinner. 'Not at all, sir,' he replied to some compliment I paid +him. 'I valeted the late Lord Marshalton for fifteen years. He was +very abrupt in his movements, sir. As a rule I never received more +than an hour's notice of a journey. We used to go to Syria +frequently. I have been twice to Babylon. Mr. and Mrs. Zigler's +requirements are, comparatively speaking, few.'</p> +<p>'But the guests?'</p> +<p>'Very little out of the ordinary as soon as one knows their +ordinaries. Extremely simple, if I may say so, sir.'</p> +<p>I had the privilege of taking Mrs. Burton in to dinner, and was +rewarded with an entirely new, and to me rather shocking view, of +Abraham Lincoln, who, she said, had wasted the heritage of his land +by blood and fire, and had surrendered the remnant to aliens. 'My +brother, suh,' she said, 'fell at Gettysburg in order that +Armenians should colonise New England to-day. If I took any +interest in any dam-Yankee outside of my son-in-law Laughton +yondah, I should say that my brother's death had been amply +avenged.'</p> +<p>The man at her right took up the challenge, and the war spread. +Her eyes twinkled over the flames she had lit.</p> +<p>'Don't these folk,' she said a little later, 'remind you of +Arabs picnicking under the Pyramids?'</p> +<p>'I've never seen the Pyramids,' I replied.</p> +<p>'Hm! I didn't know you were as English as all that.' And when I +laughed, 'Are you?'</p> +<p>'Always. It saves trouble.'</p> +<p>'Now that's just what I find so significant among the +English'--this was Alice's mother, I think, with one elbow well +forward among the salted almonds. 'Oh, I know how <i>you</i> feel, +Madam Burton, but a Northerner like myself--I'm Buffalo--even +though we come over every year--notices the desire for comfort in +England. There's so little conflict or uplift in British +society.'</p> +<p>'But we like being comfortable,' I said.</p> +<p>'I know it. It's very characteristic. But ain't it a little, +just a little, lacking in adaptability an' imagination?'</p> +<p>'They haven't any need for adaptability,' Madam Burton struck +in. 'They haven't any Ellis Island standards to live up to.'</p> +<p>'But we can assimilate,' the Buffalo woman charged on.</p> +<p>'Now you <i>have</i> done it!' I whispered to the old lady as +the blessed word 'assimilation' woke up all the old arguments for +and against.</p> +<p>There was not a dull moment in that dinner for me--nor +afterwards when the boys and girls at the piano played the rag-time +tunes of their own land, while their elders, inexhaustibly +interested, replunged into the discussion of that land's future, +till there was talk of coon-can. When all the company had been set +to tables Zigler led me into his book-lined study, where I noticed +he kept his golf-clubs, and spoke simply as a child, gravely as a +bishop, of the years that were past since our last meeting.</p> +<p>'That's about all, I guess--up to date,' he said when he had +unrolled the bright map of his fortunes across three continents. +'Bein' rich suits me. So does your country, sir. My own country? +You heard what that Detroit man said at dinner. "A Government of +the alien, by the alien, for the alien." Mother's right, too. +Lincoln killed us. From the highest motives--but he killed us. Oh, +say, that reminds me. 'J'ever kill a man from the highest +motives?'</p> +<p>'Not from any motive--as far as I remember.'</p> +<p>'Well, I have. It don't weigh on my mind any, but it was +interesting. Life <i>is</i> interesting for a rich--for any--man in +England. Ya-as! Life in England is like settin' in the front row at +the theatre and never knowin' when the whole blame drama won't +spill itself into your lap. I didn't always know that. I lie abed +now, and I blush to think of some of the breaks I made in South +Africa. About the British. Not your official method of doin' +business. But the Spirit. I was 'way, 'way off on the Spirit. Are +you acquainted with any other country where you'd have to kill a +man or two to get at the National Spirit?'</p> +<p>'Well,' I answered, 'next to marrying one of its women, killing +one of its men makes for pretty close intimacy with any country. I +take it you killed a British citizen.'</p> +<p>'Why, no. Our syndicate confined its operations to +aliens--dam-fool aliens.... 'J'ever know an English lord called +Lundie<a name="FNanchor5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5">[5]</a>? Looks +like a frame-food and soap advertisement. I imagine he was in your +Supreme Court before he came into his lordship.'</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor5">[5]</a> +'The Puzzler': <i>Actions and Reactions</i>.</blockquote> +<p>'He is a lawyer--what we call a Law Lord--a Judge of Appeal--not +a real hereditary lord.'</p> +<p>'That's as much beyond me as <i>this</i>!' Zigler slapped a fat +Debrett on the table. 'But I presoom this unreal Law Lord Lundie is +kind o' real in his decisions? I judged so. And--one more question. +'Ever meet a man called Walen?'</p> +<p>'D'you mean Burton-Walen, the editor of--?' I mentioned the +journal.</p> +<p>'That's him. 'Looks like a tough, talks like a Maxim, and trains +with kings.'</p> +<p>'He does,' I said. 'Burton-Walen knows all the crowned heads of +Europe intimately. It's his hobby.'</p> +<p>'Well, there's the whole outfit for you--exceptin' my Lord +Marshalton, <i>né</i> Mankeltow, an' me. All active +murderers--specially the Law Lord--or accessories after the fact. +And what do they hand you out for <i>that</i>, in this +country?'</p> +<p>'Twenty years, I believe,' was my reply.</p> +<p>He reflected a moment.</p> +<p>'No-o-o,' he said, and followed it with a smoke-ring. 'Twenty +months at the Cape is my limit. Say, murder ain't the +soul-shatterin' event those nature-fakers in the magazines make +out. It develops naturally like any other proposition.... Say, +'j'ever play this golf game? It's come up in the States from Maine +to California, an' we're prodoocin' all the champions in sight. Not +a business man's play, but interestin'. I've got a golf-links in +the park here that they tell me is the finest inland course ever. I +had to pay extra for that when I hired the ranche--last year. It +was just before I signed the papers that our murder eventuated. My +Lord Marshalton he asked me down for the week-end to fix up +something or other--about Peters and the linen, I think 'twas. Mrs. +Zigler took a holt of the proposition. She understood Peters from +the word "go." There wasn't any house-party; only fifteen or twenty +folk. A full house is thirty-two, Tommy tells me. 'Guess we must be +near on that to-night. In the smoking-room here, my Lord +Marshalton--Mankeltow that was--introduces me to this Walen man +with the nose. He'd been in the War too, from start to finish. He +knew all the columns and generals that I'd battled with in the days +of my Zigler gun. We kinder fell into each other's arms an' let the +harsh world go by for a while.</p> +<p>'Walen he introduces me to your Lord Lundie. <i>He</i> was a new +proposition to me. If he hadn't been a lawyer he'd have made a +lovely cattle-king. I thought I had played poker some. Another of +my breaks. Ya-as! It cost me eleven hundred dollars besides what +Tommy said when I retired. I have no fault to find with your +hereditary aristocracy, or your judiciary, or your press.</p> +<p>'Sunday we all went to Church across the Park here.... Psha! +Think o' your rememberin' my religion! I've become an Episcopalian +since I married. Ya-as.... After lunch Walen did his +crowned-heads-of-Europe stunt in the smokin'-room here. He was long +on Kings. And Continental crises. I do not pretend to follow +British domestic politics, but in the aeroplane business a man has +to know something of international possibilities. At present, you +British are settin' in kimonoes on dynamite kegs. Walen's talk put +me wise on the location and size of some of the kegs. Ya-as!</p> +<p>'After that, we four went out to look at those golf-links I was +hirin'. We each took a club. Mine'--he glanced at a great tan bag +by the fire-place--'was the beginner's friend--the cleek. Well, +sir, this golf proposition took a holt of me as quick as--quick as +death. They had to prise me off the greens when it got too dark to +see, and then we went back to the house. I was walkin' ahead with +my Lord Marshalton talkin' beginners' golf. (<i>I</i> was the man +who ought to have been killed by rights.) We cut 'cross lots +through the woods to Flora's Temple--that place I showed you this +afternoon. Lundie and Walen were, maybe, twenty or thirty rod +behind us in the dark. Marshalton and I stopped at the theatre to +admire at the ancestral yew-trees. He took me right under the +biggest--King Somebody's Yew--and while I was spannin' it with my +handkerchief, he says, "Look heah!" just as if it was a rabbit--and +down comes a bi-plane into the theatre with no more noise than the +dead. My Rush Silencer is the only one on the market that allows +that sort of gumshoe work.... What? A bi-plane--with two men in it. +Both men jump out and start fussin' with the engines. I was +starting to tell Mankeltow--I can't remember to call him Marshalton +any more--that it looked as if the Royal British Flying Corps had +got on to my Rush Silencer at last; but he steps out from under the +yew to these two Stealthy Steves and says, "What's the trouble? Can +I be of any service?" He thought--so did I--'twas some of the boys +from Aldershot or Salisbury. Well, sir, from there on, the +situation developed like a motion-picture in Hell. The man on the +nigh side of the machine whirls round, pulls his gun and fires into +Mankeltow's face. I laid him out with my cleek automatically. Any +one who shoots a friend of mine gets what's comin' to him if I'm +within reach. He drops. Mankeltow rubs his neck with his +handkerchief. The man the far side of the machine starts to run. +Lundie down the ride, or it might have been Walen, shouts, "What's +happened?" Mankeltow says, "Collar that chap."</p> +<p>'The second man runs ring-a-ring-o'-roses round the machine, one +hand reachin' behind him. Mankeltow heads him off to me. He breaks +blind for Walen and Lundie, who are runnin' up the ride. There's +some sort of mix-up among 'em, which it's too dark to see, and a +thud. Walen says, "Oh, well collared!" Lundie says, "That's the +only thing I never learned at Harrow!"... Mankeltow runs up to 'em, +still rubbin' his neck, and says, "<i>He</i> didn't fire at me. It +was the other chap. Where is he?"</p> +<p>'"I've stretched him alongside his machine," I says.</p> +<p>'"Are they poachers?" says Lundie.</p> +<p>'"No. Airmen. I can't make it out," says Mankeltow.</p> +<p>'"Look at here," says Walen, kind of brusque. "This man ain't +breathin' at all. Didn't you hear somethin' crack when he lit, +Lundie?"</p> +<p>'"My God!" says Lundie. "Did I? I thought it was my +suspenders"--no, he said "braces."</p> +<p>'Right there I left them and sort o' tiptoed back to my man, +hopin' he'd revived and quit. But he hadn't. That darned cleek had +hit him on the back of the neck just where his helmet stopped. He'd +got <i>his</i>. I knew it by the way the head rolled in my hands. +Then the others came up the ride totin' <i>their</i> load. No +mistakin' that shuffle on grass. D'you remember it--in South +Africa? Ya-as.</p> +<p>'"Hsh!" says Lundie. "Do you know I've broken this man's +neck?"</p> +<p>'"Same here," I says.</p> +<p>'"What? Both?" says Mankeltow.</p> +<p>'"Nonsense!" says Lord Lundie. "Who'd have thought he was that +out of training? A man oughtn't to fly if he ain't fit."</p> +<p>'"What did they want here, anyway?" said Walen; and Mankeltow +says, "We can't leave them in the open. Some one'll come. Carry 'em +to Flora's Temple."</p> +<p>We toted 'em again and laid 'em out on a stone bench. They were +still dead in spite of our best attentions. We knew it, but we went +through the motions till it was quite dark. 'Wonder if all +murderers do that? "We want a light on this," says Walen after a +spell. "There ought to be one in the machine. Why didn't they light +it?"</p> +<p>'We came out of Flora's Temple, and shut the doors behind us. +Some stars were showing then--same as when Cain did his little act, +I guess. I climbed up and searched the machine. She was very well +equipped, I found two electric torches in clips alongside her +barometers by the rear seat.</p> +<p>'"What make is she?" says Mankeltow.</p> +<p>'"Continental Renzalaer," I says. "My engines and my Rush +Silencer."</p> +<p>'Walen whistles. "Here--let me look," he says, and grabs the +other torch. She was sure well equipped. We gathered up an armful +of cameras an' maps an' note-books an' an album of mounted +photographs which we took to Flora's Temple and spread on a +marble-topped table (I'll show you to-morrow) which the King of +Naples had presented to grandfather Marshalton. Walen starts to go +through 'em. We wanted to know why our friends had been so +prejudiced against our society.</p> +<p>'"Wait a minute," says Lord Lundie. "Lend me a +handkerchief."</p> +<p>'He pulls out his own, and Walen contributes his green-and-red +bandanna, and Lundie covers their faces. "Now," he says, "we'll go +into the evidence."</p> +<p>'There wasn't any flaw in that evidence. Walen read out their +last observations, and Mankeltow asked questions, and Lord Lundie +sort o' summarised, and I looked at the photos in the album. +'J'ever see a bird's-eye telephoto-survey of England for military +purposes? It's interestin' but indecent--like turnin' a man upside +down. None of those close-range panoramas of forts could have been +taken without my Rush Silencer.</p> +<p>'"I wish <i>we</i> was as thorough as they are," says Mankeltow, +when Walen stopped translatin'.</p> +<p>'"We've been thorough enough," says Lord Lundie. "The evidence +against both accused is conclusive. Any other country would give +'em seven years in a fortress. We should probably give 'em eighteen +months as first-class misdemeanants. But their case," he says, "is +out of our hands. We must review our own. Mr. Zigler," he said, +"will you tell us what steps you took to bring about the death of +the first accused?" I told him. He wanted to know specially whether +I'd stretched first accused before or after he had fired at +Mankeltow. Mankeltow testified he'd been shot at, and exhibited his +neck as evidence. It was scorched.</p> +<p>'"Now, Mr. Walen," says Lord Lundie. "Will you kindly tell us +what steps you took with regard to the second accused?"</p> +<p>'"The man ran directly at me, me lord," says Walen. "I said, 'Oh +no, you don't,' and hit him in the face."</p> +<p>'Lord Lundie lifts one hand and uncovers second accused's face. +There was a bruise on one cheek and the chin was all greened with +grass. He was a heavy-built man.</p> +<p>'"What happened after that?" says Lord Lundie.</p> +<p>'"To the best of my remembrance he turned from me towards your +lordship."</p> +<p>'Then Lundie goes ahead. "I stooped, and caught the man round +the ankles," he says. "The sudden check threw him partially over my +left shoulder. I jerked him off that shoulder, still holding his +ankles, and he fell heavily on, it would appear, the point of his +chin, death being instantaneous."</p> +<p>'"Death being instantaneous," says Walen.</p> +<p>'Lord Lundie takes off his gown and wig--you could see him do +it--and becomes our fellow-murderer. "That's our case," he says. "I +know how <i>I</i> should direct the jury, but it's an undignified +business for a Lord of Appeal to lift his hand to, and some of my +learned brothers," he says, "might be disposed to be +facetious."</p> +<p>'I guess I can't be properly sensitised. Any one who steered me +out of that trouble might have had the laugh on me for generations. +But I'm only a millionaire. I said we'd better search second +accused in case he'd been carryin' concealed weapons.</p> +<p>'"That certainly is a point," says Lord Lundie. "But the +question for the jury would be whether I exercised more force than +was necessary to prevent him from usin' them." <i>I</i> didn't say +anything. He wasn't talkin' my language. Second accused had his gun +on him sure enough, but it had jammed in his hip-pocket. He was too +fleshy to reach behind for business purposes, and he didn't look a +gun-man anyway. Both of 'em carried wads of private letters. By the +time Walen had translated, we knew how many children the fat one +had at home and when the thin one reckoned to be married. Too bad! +Ya-as.</p> +<p>'Says Walen to me while we was rebuttonin' their jackets (they +was not in uniform): "Ever read a book called <i>The Wreckers</i>, +Mr. Zigler?"</p> +<p>'"Not that I recall at the present moment," I says.</p> +<p>'"Well, do," he says. "You'd appreciate it. You'd appreciate it +now, I assure you."</p> +<p>'"I'll remember," I says. "But I don't see how this song and +dance helps us any. Here's our corpses, here's their machine, and +daylight's bound to come."</p> +<p>'"Heavens! That reminds me," says Lundie. "What time's +dinner?"</p> +<p>'"Half-past eight," says Mankeltow. "It's half-past five now. We +knocked off golf at twenty to, and if they hadn't been such silly +asses, firin' pistols like civilians, we'd have had them to dinner. +Why, they might be sitting with us in the smoking-room this very +minute," he says. Then he said that no man had a right to take his +profession so seriously as these two mountebanks.</p> +<p>'"How interestin'!" says Lundie. "I've noticed this impatient +attitude toward their victim in a good many murderers. I never +understood it before. Of course, it's the disposal of the body that +annoys 'em. Now, I wonder," he says, "who our case will come up +before? Let's run through it again."</p> +<p>'Then Walen whirls in. He'd been bitin' his nails in a corner. +We was all nerved up by now.... Me? The worst of the bunch. I had +to think for Tommy as well.</p> +<p>'"We <i>can't</i> be tried," says Walen. "We <i>mustn't</i> be +tried! It'll make an infernal international stink. What did I tell +you in the smoking-room after lunch? The tension's at +breaking-point already. This 'ud snap it. Can't you see that?"</p> +<p>'"I was thinking of the legal aspect of the case," says Lundie. +"With a good jury we'd likely be acquitted."</p> +<p>'"Acquitted!" says Walen. "Who'd dare acquit us in the face of +what 'ud be demanded by--the other party? Did you ever hear of the +War of Jenkins' ear? 'Ever hear of Mason and Slidel? 'Ever hear of +an ultimatum? You know who <i>these</i> two idiots are; you know +who <i>we</i> are--a Lord of Appeal, a Viscount of the English +peerage, and me--<i>me</i> knowing all I know, which the men who +know dam' well know that I <i>do</i> know! It's our necks or +Armageddon. Which do you think this Government would choose? We +<i>can't</i> be tried!" he says.</p> +<p>'"Then I expect I'll have to resign me club," Lundie goes on. "I +don't think that's ever been done before by an <i>ex-officio</i> +member. I must ask the secretary." I guess he was kinder bunkered +for the minute, or maybe 'twas the lordship comin' out on him.</p> +<p>'"Rot!" says Mankeltow. "Walen's right. We can't afford to be +tried. We'll have to bury them; but my head-gardener locks up all +the tools at five o'clock."</p> +<p>'"Not on your life!" says Lundie. He was on deck again--as the +high-class lawyer. "Right or wrong, if we attempt concealment of +the bodies we're done for."</p> +<p>"'I'm glad of that," says Mankeltow, "because, after all, it +ain't cricket to bury 'em."</p> +<p>'Somehow--but I know I ain't English--that consideration didn't +worry me as it ought. An' besides, I was thinkin'--I had to--an' +I'd begun to see a light 'way off--a little glimmerin' light o' +salvation.</p> +<p>'"Then what <i>are</i> we to do?" says Walen. "Zigler, what do +you advise? Your neck's in it too."</p> +<p>'"Gentlemen," I says, "something Lord Lundie let fall a while +back gives me an idea. I move that this committee empowers Big +Claus and Little Claus, who have elected to commit suicide in our +midst, to leave the premises <i>as</i> they came. I'm asking you to +take big chances," I says, "but they're all we've got," and then I +broke for the bi-plane.</p> +<p>'Don't tell me the English can't think as quick as the next man +when it's up to them! They lifted 'em out o' Flora's +Temple--reverent, but not wastin' time--whilst I found out what had +brought her down. One cylinder was misfirin'. I didn't stop to fix +it. My Renzalaer will hold up on six. We've proved that. If her +crew had relied on my guarantees, they'd have been half-way home by +then, instead of takin' their seats with hangin' heads like they +was ashamed. They ought to have been ashamed too, playin' gun-men +in a British peer's park! I took big chances startin' her without +controls, but 'twas a dead still night an' a clear run--you saw +it--across the Theatre into the park, and I prayed she'd rise +before she hit high timber. I set her all I dared for a quick lift. +I told Mankeltow that if I gave her too much nose she'd be liable +to up-end and flop. He didn't want another inquest on his estate. +No, sir! So I had to fix her up in the dark. Ya-as!</p> +<p>'I took big chances, too, while those other three held on to her +and I worked her up to full power. My Renzalaer's no +ventilation-fan to pull against. But I climbed out just in time. +I'd hitched the signallin' lamp to her tail so's we could track +her. Otherwise, with my Rush Silencer, we might's well have shooed +an owl out of a barn. She left just that way when we let her go. No +sound except the propellers--<i>Whoo-oo-oo! Whoo-oo-oo!</i> There +was a dip in the ground ahead. It hid her lamp for a second--but +there's no such thing as time in real life. Then that lamp +travelled up the far slope slow--too slow. Then it kinder lifted, +we judged. Then it sure was liftin'. Then it lifted good. D'you +know why? Our four naked perspirin' souls was out there underneath +her, hikin' her heavens high. Yes, sir. <i>We</i> did it!... And +that lamp kept liftin' and liftin'. Then she side-slipped! My God, +she side-slipped twice, which was what I'd been afraid of all +along! Then she straightened up, and went away climbin' to glory, +for that blessed star of our hope got smaller and smaller till we +couldn't track it any more. Then we breathed. We hadn't breathed +any since their arrival, but we didn't know it till we breathed +that time--all together. Then we dug our finger-nails out of our +palms an' came alive again--in instalments.</p> +<p>'Lundie spoke first. "We therefore commit their bodies to the +air," he says, an' puts his cap on.</p> +<p>'"The deep--the deep," says Walen. "It's just twenty-three miles +to the Channel."</p> +<p>'"Poor chaps! Poor chaps!" says Mankeltow. "We'd have had 'em to +dinner if they hadn't lost their heads. I can't tell you how this +distresses me, Laughton."</p> +<p>'"Well, look at here, Arthur," I says. "It's only God's Own +Mercy you an' me ain't lyin' in Flora's Temple now, and if that fat +man had known enough to fetch his gun around while he was runnin', +Lord Lundie and Walen would have been alongside us."</p> +<p>'"I see that," he says. "But we're alive and they're dead, don't +ye know."</p> +<p>'"I know it," I says. "That's where the dead are always so +damned unfair on the survivors."</p> +<p>'"I see that too," he says. "But I'd have given a good deal if +it hadn't happened, poor chaps!"</p> +<p>'"Amen!" says Lundie. Then? Oh, then we sorter walked back two +an' two to Flora's Temple an' lit matches to see we hadn't left +anything behind. Walen, he had confiscated the note-books before +they left. There was the first man's pistol which we'd forgot to +return him, lyin' on the stone bench. Mankeltow puts his hand on +it--he never touched the trigger--an', bein' an automatic, of +course the blame thing jarred off--spiteful as a rattler!</p> +<p>'"Look out! They'll have one of us yet," says Walen in the dark. +But they didn't--the Lord hadn't quit being our shepherd--and we +heard the bullet zip across the veldt--quite like old times. +Ya-as!</p> +<p>'"Swine!" says Mankeltow.</p> +<p>'After that I didn't hear any more "Poor chap" talk.... Me? I +never worried about killing <i>my</i> man. I was too busy figurin' +how a British jury might regard the proposition. I guess Lundie +felt that way too.</p> +<p>'Oh, but say! We had an interestin' time at dinner. Folks was +expected whose auto had hung up on the road. They hadn't wired, and +Peters had laid two extra places. We noticed 'em as soon as we sat +down. I'd hate to say how noticeable they were. Mankeltow with his +neck bandaged (he'd caught a relaxed throat golfin') sent for +Peters and told him to take those empty places away--<i>if you +please</i>. It takes something to rattle Peters. He was rattled +that time. Nobody else noticed anything. And now...'</p> +<p>'Where did they come down?' I asked, as he rose.</p> +<p>'In the Channel, I guess. There was nothing in the papers about +'em. Shall we go into the drawin'-room, and see what these boys and +girls are doin?' But say, ain't life in England +inter<i>es</i>tin'?"</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page300"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"><b>REBIRTH</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">If any God should say</p> +<p class="i6">"I will restore</p> +<p class="i5">The world her yesterday</p> +<p class="i6">Whole as before</p> +<p>My Judgment blasted it"--who would not lift</p> +<p>Heart, eye, and hand in passion o'er the gift?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">If any God should will</p> +<p class="i6">To wipe from mind</p> +<p class="i5">The memory of this ill</p> +<p class="i6">Which is mankind</p> +<p>In soul and substance now--who would not bless</p> +<p>Even to tears His loving-tenderness?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">If any God should give</p> +<p class="i6">Us leave to fly</p> +<p class="i5">These present deaths we live,</p> +<p class="i6">And safely die</p> +<p>In those lost lives we lived ere we were born--</p> +<p>What man but would not laugh the excuse to scorn?</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">For we are what we are--</p> +<p class="i6">So broke to blood</p> +<p class="i5">And the strict works of war--</p> +<p class="i6">So long subdued</p> +<p>To sacrifice, that threadbare Death commands</p> +<p>Hardly observance at our busier hands.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i5">Yet we were what we were,</p> +<p class="i6">And, fashioned so,</p> +<p class="i5">It pleases us to stare</p> +<p class="i6">At the far show</p> +<p>Of unbelievable years and shapes that flit,</p> +<p>In our own likeness, on the edge of it.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page303"></a> +<h2>The Horse Marines</h2> +<h3>(1911)</h3> +<br> +<blockquote><i>The Rt. Hon. R.B. Haldane, Secretary of State for +War<a name="FNanchor6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6">[6]</a>, was +questioned in the House of Commons on April 8th about the +rocking-horses which the War Office is using for the purpose of +teaching recruits to ride. Lord Ronaldshay asked the War Secretary +if rocking-horses were to be supplied to all the cavalry regiments +for teaching recruits to ride. 'The noble Lord,' replied Mr. +Haldane, 'is doubtless alluding to certain dummy horses on rockers +which have been tested with very satisfactory results.'... The +mechanical steed is a wooden horse with an astonishing tail. It is +painted brown and mounted on swinging rails. The recruit leaps into +the saddle and pulls at the reins while the riding-instructor rocks +the animal to and fro with his foot. The rocking-horses are being +made at Woolwich. They are quite cheap</i>.</blockquote> +<p class="loc">--Daily Paper.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor6">[6]</a> +Now Viscount Haldane of Cloan.</blockquote> +<p>My instructions to Mr. Leggatt, my engineer, had been accurately +obeyed. He was to bring my car on completion of annual overhaul, +from Coventry <i>via</i> London, to Southampton Docks to await my +arrival; and very pretty she looked, under the steamer's side among +the railway lines, at six in the morning. Next to her new paint and +varnish I was most impressed by her four brand-new tyres.</p> +<p>'But I didn't order new tyres,' I said as we moved away. 'These +are Irresilients, too.'</p> +<p>'Treble-ribbed,' said Leggatt. 'Diamond-stud sheathing.'</p> +<p>'Then there has been a mistake.'</p> +<p>'Oh no, sir; they're gratis.'</p> +<p>The number of motor manufacturers who give away complete sets of +treble-ribbed Irresilient tyres is so limited that I believe I +asked Leggatt for an explanation.</p> +<p>'I don't know that I could very well explain, sir,' was the +answer. 'It 'ud come better from Mr. Pyecroft. He's on leaf at +Portsmouth--staying with his uncle. His uncle 'ad the body all +night. I'd defy you to find a scratch on her even with a +microscope.'</p> +<p>'Then we will go home by the Portsmouth road,' I said.</p> +<p>And we went at those speeds which are allowed before the +working-day begins or the police are thawed out. We were blocked +near Portsmouth by a battalion of Regulars on the move.</p> +<p>'Whitsuntide manoeuvres just ending,' said Leggatt. 'They've had +a fortnight in the Downs.'</p> +<p>He said no more until we were in a narrow street somewhere +behind Portsmouth Town Railway Station, where he slowed at a +green-grocery shop. The door was open, and a small old man sat on +three potato-baskets swinging his feet over a stooping blue +back.</p> +<p>'You call that shinin' 'em?' he piped. 'Can you see your face in +'em yet? No! Then shine 'em, or I'll give you a beltin' you'll +remember!'</p> +<p>'If you stop kickin' me in the mouth perhaps I'd do better,' +said Pyecroft's voice meekly.</p> +<p>We blew the horn.</p> +<p>Pyecroft arose, put away the brushes, and received us not +otherwise than as a king in his own country.</p> +<p>'Are you going to leave me up here all day?' said the old +man.</p> +<p>Pyecroft lifted him down and he hobbled into the back room.</p> +<p>'It's his corns,' Pyecroft explained. 'You can't shine corny +feet--and he hasn't had his breakfast.'</p> +<p>'I haven't had mine either,' I said.</p> +<p>'Breakfast for two more, uncle,' Pyecroft sang out.</p> +<p>'Go out an' buy it then,' was the answer, 'or else it's +half-rations.'</p> +<p>Pyecroft turned to Leggatt, gave him his marketing orders, and +despatched him with the coppers.</p> +<p>'I have got four new tyres on my car,' I began impressively.</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Mr. Pyecroft. 'You have, and I <i>will</i> say'--he +patted my car's bonnet--'you earned 'em.'</p> +<p>'I want to know why--,' I went on.</p> +<p>'Quite justifiable. You haven't noticed anything in the papers, +have you?'</p> +<p>'I've only just landed. I haven't seen a paper for weeks.'</p> +<p>'Then you can lend me a virgin ear. There's been a scandal in +the Junior Service--the Army, I believe they call 'em.'</p> +<p>A bag of coffee-beans pitched on the counter. 'Roast that,' said +the uncle from within.</p> +<p>Pyecroft rigged a small coffee-roaster, while I took down the +shutters, and sold a young lady in curl-papers two bunches of mixed +greens and one soft orange.</p> +<p>'Sickly stuff to handle on an empty stomach, ain't it?' said +Pyecroft.</p> +<p>'What about my new tyres?' I insisted.</p> +<p>'Oh, any amount. But the question is'--he looked at me +steadily--'is this what you might call a court-martial or a +post-mortem inquiry?'</p> +<p>'Strictly a post-mortem,' said I.</p> +<p>'That being so,' said Pyecroft, 'we can rapidly arrive at facts. +Last Thursday--the shutters go behind those baskets--last Thursday +at five bells in the forenoon watch, otherwise ten-thirty A.M., +your Mr. Leggatt was discovered on Westminster Bridge laying his +course for the Old Kent Road.'</p> +<p>'But that doesn't lead to Southampton,' I interrupted.</p> +<p>'Then perhaps he was swinging the car for compasses. Be that as +it may, we found him in that latitude, simultaneous as Jules and me +was <i>ong route</i> for Waterloo to rejoin our respective +ships--or Navies I should say. Jules was a <i>permissionaire</i>, +which meant being on leaf, same as me, from a French +cassowary-cruiser at Portsmouth. A party of her trusty and +well-beloved petty officers 'ad been seeing London, chaperoned by +the R.C. Chaplain. Jules 'ad detached himself from the squadron and +was cruisin' on his own when I joined him, in company of copious +lady-friends. <i>But</i>, mark you, your Mr. Leggatt drew the line +at the girls. Loud and long he drew it.'</p> +<p>'I'm glad of that,' I said.</p> +<p>'You may be. He adopted the puristical formation from the first. +"Yes," he said, when we was annealing him at--but you wouldn't know +the pub--"I <i>am</i> going to Southampton," he says, "and I'll +stretch a point to go <i>via</i> Portsmouth; <i>but</i>," says he, +"seeing what sort of one hell of a time invariably trarnspires when +we cruise together, Mr. Pyecroft, I do <i>not</i> feel myself +justified towards my generous and long-suffering employer in takin' +on that kind of ballast as well." I assure you he considered your +interests.'</p> +<p>'And the girls?' I asked.</p> +<p>'Oh, I left that to Jules. I'm a monogomite by nature. So we +embarked strictly <i>ong garçong</i>. But I should tell you, +in case he didn't, that your Mr. Leggatt's care for your interests +'ad extended to sheathing the car in matting and gunny-bags to +preserve her paint-work. She was all swathed up like an I-talian +baby.'</p> +<p>'He <i>is</i> careful about his paint-work,' I said.</p> +<p>'For a man with no Service experience I should say he was fair +homicidal on the subject. If we'd been Marines he couldn't have +been more pointed in his allusions to our hob-nailed socks. +However, we reduced him to a malleable condition, and embarked for +Portsmouth. I'd seldom rejoined my <i>vaisseau ong automobile, +avec</i> a fur coat and goggles. Nor 'ad Jules.'</p> +<p>'Did Jules say much?' I asked, helplessly turning the handle of +the coffee-roaster.</p> +<p>'That's where I pitied the pore beggar. He 'adn't the language, +so to speak. He was confined to heavings and shruggin's and copious +<i>Mong Jews</i>! The French are very badly fitted with +relief-valves. And then our Mr. Leggatt drove. He drove.'</p> +<p>'Was he in a very malleable condition?'</p> +<p>'Not him! We recognised the value of his cargo from the outset. +He hadn't a chance to get more than moist at the edges. After which +we went to sleep; and now we'll go to breakfast.'</p> +<p>We entered the back room where everything was in order, and a +screeching canary made us welcome. The uncle had added sausages and +piles of buttered toast to the kippers. The coffee, cleared with a +piece of fish-skin, was a revelation.</p> +<p>Leggatt, who seemed to know the premises, had run the car into +the tiny backyard where her mirror-like back almost blocked up the +windows. He minded shop while we ate. Pyecroft passed him his +rations through a flap in the door. The uncle ordered him in, after +breakfast, to wash up, and he jumped in his gaiters at the old +man's commands as he has never jumped to mine.</p> +<p>'To resoom the post-mortem,' said Pyecroft, lighting his pipe. +'My slumbers were broken by the propeller ceasing to revolve, and +by vile language from your Mr. Leggatt.'</p> +<p>'I--I--' Leggatt began, a blue-checked duster in one hand and a +cup in the other.</p> +<p>'When you're wanted aft you'll be sent for, Mr. Leggatt,' said +Pyecroft amiably. 'It's clean mess decks for you now. Resooming +once more, we was on a lonely and desolate ocean near Portsdown, +surrounded by gorse bushes, and a Boy Scout was stirring my stomach +with his little copper-stick.'</p> +<p>'"You count ten," he says.</p> +<p>'"Very good, Boy Jones," I says, "count 'em," and I hauled him +in over the gunnel, and ten I gave him with my large flat hand. The +remarks he passed, lying face down tryin' to bite my leg, would +have reflected credit on any Service. Having finished I dropped him +overboard again, which was my gross political error. I ought to +'ave killed him; because he began signalling--rapid and +accurate--in a sou'westerly direction. Few equatorial calms are to +be apprehended when B.P.'s little pets take to signallin'. Make a +note o' that! Three minutes later we were stopped and boarded by +Scouts--up our backs, down our necks, and in our boots! The last I +heard from your Mr. Leggatt as he went under, brushin' 'em off his +cap, was thanking Heaven he'd covered up the new paint-work with +mats. An 'eroic soul!'</p> +<p>'Not a scratch on her body,' said Leggatt, pouring out the +coffee-grounds.</p> +<p>'And Jules?' said I.</p> +<p>'Oh, Jules thought the much advertised Social Revolution had +begun, but his mackintosh hampered him.</p> +<p>'You told me to bring the mackintosh,' Leggatt whispered to +me.</p> +<p>'And when I 'ad 'em half convinced he was a French vicomte +coming down to visit the Commander-in-Chief at Portsmouth, he tried +to take it off. Seeing his uniform underneath, some sucking +Sherlock Holmes of the Pink Eye Patrol (they called him Eddy) +deduced that I wasn't speaking the truth. Eddy said I was tryin' to +sneak into Portsmouth unobserved--unobserved mark you!--and join +hands with the enemy. It trarnspired that the Scouts was conducting +a field-day against opposin' forces, ably assisted by all branches +of the Service, and they was so afraid the car wouldn't count ten +points to them in the fray, that they'd have scalped us, but for +the intervention of an umpire--also in short under-drawers. A +fleshy sight!'</p> +<p>Here Mr. Pyecroft shut his eyes and nodded. 'That umpire,' he +said suddenly, 'was our Mr. Morshed--a gentleman whose acquaintance +you have already made <i>and</i> profited by, if I mistake +not<a name="FNanchor7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7">[7]</a>.'</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor7">[7]</a> +'Their Lawful Occasions,' <i>Traffics and +Discoveries</i>.</blockquote> +<p>'Oh, was the Navy in it too?' I said; for I had read of wild +doings occasionally among the Boy Scouts on the Portsmouth Road, in +which Navy, Army, and the world at large seemed to have taken +part.</p> +<p>'The Navy <i>was</i> in it. I was the only one out of it--for +several seconds. Our Mr. Morshed failed to recognise me in my fur +boa, and my appealin' winks at 'im behind your goggles didn't +arrive. But when Eddy darling had told his story, I saluted, which +is difficult in furs, and I stated I was bringin' him dispatches +from the North. My Mr. Morshed cohered on the instant. I've never +known his ethergram installations out of order yet. "Go and guard +your blessed road," he says to the Fratton Orphan Asylum standing +at attention all round him, and, when they was removed--"Pyecroft," +he says, still <i>sotte voce</i>, "what in Hong-Kong are you doing +with this dun-coloured <i>sampan</i>?"</p> +<p>'It was your Mr. Leggatt's paint-protective matting which caught +his eye. She <i>did</i> resemble a <i>sampan</i>, especially about +the stern-works. At these remarks I naturally threw myself on 'is +bosom, so far as Service conditions permitted, and revealed him +all, mentioning that the car was yours. You know his way of working +his lips like a rabbit? Yes, he was quite pleased. "<i>His</i> +car!" he kept murmuring, working his lips like a rabbit. "I owe 'im +more than a trifle for things he wrote about me. I'll keep the +car."</p> +<p>'Your Mr. Leggatt now injected some semi-mutinous remarks to the +effect that he was your chauffeur in charge of your car, and, as +such, capable of so acting. Mr. Morshed threw him a glarnce. It +sufficed. Didn't it suffice, Mr. Leggatt?'</p> +<p>'I knew if something didn't happen, something worse would,' said +Leggatt. 'It never fails when you're aboard.'</p> +<p>'And Jules?' I demanded.</p> +<p>'Jules was, so to speak, panicking in a water-tight flat through +his unfortunate lack of language. I had to introduce him as part of +the <i>entente cordiale</i>, and he was put under arrest, too. Then +we sat on the grass and smoked, while Eddy and Co. violently +annoyed the traffic on the Portsmouth Road, till the umpires, all +in short panties, conferred on the valuable lessons of the +field-day and added up points, same as at target-practice. I didn't +hear their conclusions, but our Mr. Morshed delivered a farewell +address to Eddy and Co., tellin' 'em they ought to have deduced +from a hundred signs about me, that I was a friendly bringin' in +dispatches from the North. We left 'em tryin' to find those signs +in the Scout book, and we reached Mr. Morshed's hotel at Portsmouth +at 6.27 P.M. <i>ong automobile</i>. Here endeth the first +chapter.'</p> +<p>'Begin the second,' I said.</p> +<p>The uncle and Leggatt had finished washing up and were seated, +smoking, while the damp duster dried at the fire.</p> +<p>'About what time was it,' said Pyecroft to Leggatt, 'when our +Mr. Morshed began to talk about uncles?'</p> +<p>'When he came back to the bar, after he'd changed into those +rat-catcher clothes,' said Leggatt.</p> +<p>'That's right. "Pye," said he, "have you an uncle?" "I have," I +says. "Here's santy to him," and I finished my sherry and bitters +to <i>you</i>, uncle.'</p> +<p>'That's right,' said Pyecroft's uncle sternly. 'If you hadn't +I'd have belted you worth rememberin', Emmanuel. I had the body all +night.'</p> +<p>Pyecroft smiled affectionately. 'So you 'ad, uncle, an' +beautifully you looked after her. But as I was saying, "I have an +uncle, too," says Mr. Morshed, dark and lowering. "Yet somehow I +can't love him. I want to mortify the beggar. Volunteers to mortify +my uncle, one pace to the front."</p> +<p>'I took Jules with me the regulation distance. Jules was getting +interested. Your Mr. Leggatt preserved a strictly nootral +attitude.</p> +<p>'"You're a pressed man," says our Mr. Morshed. "I owe your late +employer much, so to say. The car will manoeuvre all night, as +requisite."</p> +<p>'Mr. Leggatt come out noble as your employee, and, by 'Eaven's +divine grace, instead of arguing, he pleaded his new paint and +varnish which was Mr. Morshed's one vital spot (he's lootenant on +one of the new catch-'em-alive-o's now). "True," says he, "paint's +an 'oly thing. I'll give you one hour to arrange a <i>modus +vivendi</i>. Full bunkers and steam ready by 9 P.M. to-night, +<i>if</i> you please."</p> +<p>'Even so, Mr. Leggatt was far from content. <i>I</i> 'ad to +arrange the details. We run her into the yard here.' Pyecroft +nodded through the window at my car's glossy back-panels. 'We took +off the body with its mats and put it in the stable, substitooting +(and that yard's a tight fit for extensive repairs) the body of +uncle's blue delivery cart. It overhung a trifle, but after I'd +lashed it I knew it wouldn't fetch loose. Thus, in our composite +cruiser, we repaired once more to the hotel, and was immediately +dispatched to the toy-shop in the High Street where we took aboard +one rocking-horse which was waiting for us.'</p> +<p>'Took aboard <i>what</i>?' I cried.</p> +<p>'One fourteen-hand dapple-grey rocking-horse, with pure green +rockers and detachable tail, pair gashly glass eyes, complete set +'orrible grinnin' teeth, and two bloody-red nostrils which, +protruding from the brown papers, produced the <i>tout ensemble</i> +of a Ju-ju sacrifice in the Benin campaign. Do I make myself +comprehensible?'</p> +<p>'Perfectly. Did you say anything?' I asked.</p> +<p>'Only to Jules. To him, I says, wishing to try him. "<i>Allez +à votre bateau. Je say mon Lootenong. Eel voo donneray +porkwor</i>." To me, says he, "<i>Vous ong ate hurroo! Jamay de la +vee</i>!" and I saw by his eye he'd taken on for the full term of +the war. Jules was a blue-eyed, brindle-haired beggar of a useful +make and inquirin' habits. Your Mr. Leggatt he only groaned.'</p> +<p>Leggatt nodded. 'It was like nightmares,' he said. 'It was like +nightmares.'</p> +<p>'Once more, then,' Pyecroft swept on, 'we returned to the hotel +and partook of a sumptuous repast, under the able and genial +chairmanship of our Mr. Morshed, who laid his projecks unreservedly +before us. "In the first place," he says, opening out bicycle-maps, +"my uncle, who, I regret to say, is a brigadier-general, has sold +his alleged soul to Dicky Bridoon for a feathery hat and a pair o' +gilt spurs. Jules, <i>conspuez l'oncle</i>!" So Jules, you'll be +glad to hear--'</p> +<p>'One minute, Pye,' I said. 'Who is Dicky Bridoon?'</p> +<p>'I don't usually mingle myself up with the bickerings of the +Junior Service, but it trarnspired that he was Secretary o' State +for Civil War, an' he'd been issuing mechanical leather-belly +gee-gees which doctors recommend for tumour--to the British cavalry +in loo of real meat horses, to learn to ride on. Don't you remember +there was quite a stir in the papers owing to the cavalry not +appreciatin' 'em? But that's a minor item. The main point was that +our uncle, in his capacity of brigadier-general, mark you, had +wrote to the papers highly approvin' o' Dicky Bridoon's mechanical +substitutes an 'ad thus obtained promotion--all same as a +agnosticle stoker psalm-singin' 'imself up the Service under a +pious captain. At that point of the narrative we caught a +phosphorescent glimmer why the rocking-horse might have been +issued; but none the less the navigation was intricate. Omitting +the fact it was dark and cloudy, our brigadier-uncle lay somewhere +in the South Downs with his brigade, which was manoeuvrin' at +Whitsum manoeuvres on a large scale--Red Army <i>versus</i> Blue, +et cetera; an' all we 'ad to go by was those flapping bicycle-maps +and your Mr. Leggatt's groans.'</p> +<p>'I was thinking what the Downs mean after dark,' said Leggatt +angrily.</p> +<p>'They was worth thinkin' of,' said Pyecroft. 'When we had +studied the map till it fair spun, we decided to sally forth and +creep for uncle by hand in the dark, dark night, an' present 'im +with the rocking-horse. So we embarked at 8.57 P.M.'</p> +<p>'One minute again, please. How much did Jules understand by that +time?' I asked.</p> +<p>'Sufficient unto the day--or night, perhaps I should say. He +told our Mr. Morshed he'd follow him <i>more sang frays</i>, which +is French for dead, drunk, or damned. Barrin' 'is paucity o' +language, there wasn't a blemish on Jules. But what I wished to +imply was, when we climbed into the back parts of the car, our +Lootenant Morshed says to me, "I doubt if I'd flick my cigar-ends +about too lavish, Mr. Pyecroft. We ought to be sitting on five +pounds' worth of selected fireworks, and I think the rockets are +your end." Not being able to smoke with my 'ead over the side I +threw it away; and then your Mr. Leggatt, 'aving been as nearly +mutinous as it pays to be with my Mr. Morshed, arched his back and +drove.'</p> +<p>'Where did he drive to, please?' said I.</p> +<p>'Primerrily, in search of any or either or both armies; +seconderrily, of course, in search of our brigadier-uncle. Not +finding him on the road, we ran about the grass looking for him. +This took us to a great many places in a short time. Ow 'eavenly +that lilac did smell on top of that first Down--stinkin' its +blossomin' little heart out!'</p> +<p>'I 'adn't leesure to notice,' said Mr. Leggatt. 'The Downs were +full o' chalk-pits, and we'd no lights.'</p> +<p>'We 'ad the bicycle-lamp to look at the map by. Didn't you +notice the old lady at the window where we saw the man in the +night-gown? I thought night-gowns as sleepin' rig was extinck, so +to speak.'</p> +<p>'I tell you I 'adn't leesure to notice,' Leggatt repeated.</p> +<p>'That's odd. Then what might 'ave made you tell the sentry at +the first camp we found that you was the <i>Daily Express</i> +delivery-waggon?'</p> +<p>'You can't touch pitch without being defiled,' Leggatt answered. +''Oo told the officer in the bath we were umpires?'</p> +<p>'Well, he asked us. That was when we found the Territorial +battalion undressin' in slow time. It lay on the left flank o' the +Blue Army, and it cackled as it lay, too. But it gave us our +position as regards the respective armies. We wandered a little +more, and at 11.7 P.M., not having had a road under us for twenty +minutes, we scaled the heights of something or other--which are +about six hundred feet high. Here we 'alted to tighten the lashings +of the superstructure, and we smelt leather and horses three +counties deep all round. We was, as you might say, in the thick of +it.'</p> +<p>'"Ah!" says my Mr. Morshed. "My 'orizon has indeed broadened. +What a little thing is an uncle, Mr. Pyecroft, in the presence o' +these glitterin' constellations! Simply ludicrous!" he says, "to +waste a rocking-horse on an individual. We must socialise it. But +we must get their 'eads up first. Touch off one rocket, if you +please."</p> +<p>'I touched off a green three-pounder which rose several thousand +metres, and burst into gorgeous stars. "Reproduce the manoeuvre," +he says, "at the other end o' this ridge--if it don't end in +another cliff." So we steamed down the ridge a mile and a half +east, and then I let Jules touch off a pink rocket, or he'd ha' +kissed me. That was his only way to express his emotions, so to +speak. Their heads come up then all around us to the extent o' +thousands. We hears bugles like cocks crowing below, and on the top +of it a most impressive sound which I'd never enjoyed before +because 'itherto I'd always been an inteegral part of it, so to +say--the noise of 'ole armies gettin' under arms. They must 'ave +anticipated a night attack, I imagine. Most impressive. Then we +'eard a threshin'-machine. "Tutt! Tutt! This is childish!" says +Lootenant Morshed. "We can't wait till they've finished cutting +chaff for their horses. We must make 'em understand we're not to be +trifled with. Expedite 'em with another rocket, Mr. Pyecroft."</p> +<p>'"It's barely possible, sir," I remarks, "that that's a +searchlight churnin' up," and by the time we backed into a +providential chalk cutting (which was where our first tyre went +pungo) she broke out to the northward, and began searching the +ridge. A smart bit o' work.'</p> +<p>''Twasn't a puncture. The inner tube had nipped because we +skidded so,' Leggatt interrupted.</p> +<p>'While your Mr. Leggatt was effectin' repairs, another +searchlight broke out to the southward, and the two of 'em swept +our ridge on both sides. Right at the west end of it they showed us +the ground rising into a hill, so to speak, crowned with what +looked like a little fort. Morshed saw it before the beams shut +off. "That's the key of the position!" he says. "Occupy it at all +hazards."</p> +<p>'"I haven't half got occupation for the next twenty minutes," +says your Mr. Leggatt, rootin' and blasphemin' in the dark. Mark, +now, 'ow Morshed changed his tactics to suit 'is environment. +"Right!" says he. "I'll stand by the ship. Mr. Pyecroft and Jules, +oblige me by doubling along the ridge to the east with all the +maroons and crackers you can carry without spilling. Read the +directions careful for the maroons, Mr. Pyecroft, and touch them +off at half-minute intervals. Jules represents musketry an' maxim +fire under your command. Remember, it's death or Salisbury Gaol! +Prob'ly both!"</p> +<p>'By these means and some moderately 'ard runnin', we distracted +'em to the eastward. Maroons, you may not be aware, are same as +bombs, with the anarchism left out. In confined spots like +chalk-pits, they knock a four-point-seven silly. But you should +read the directions before'and. In the intervals of the slow but +well-directed fire of my cow-guns, Jules, who had found a +sheep-pond in the dark a little lower down, gave what you might +call a cinematograph reproduction o' sporadic musketry. They was +large size crackers, and he concluded with the dull, sickenin' thud +o' blind shells burstin' on soft ground.'</p> +<p>'How did he manage that?' I said.</p> +<p>'You throw a lighted squib into water and you'll see,' said +Pyecroft. 'Thus, then, we improvised till supplies was exhausted +and the surrounding landscapes fair 'owled and 'ummed at us. The +Jun or Service might 'ave 'ad their doubts about the rockets but +they couldn't overlook our gunfire. Both sides tumbled out full of +initiative. I told Jules no two flat-feet 'ad any right to be as +happy as us, and we went back along the ridge to the derelict, and +there was our Mr. Morshed apostrophin' his 'andiwork over fifty +square mile o' country with "Attend, all ye who list to hear!" out +of the Fifth Reader. He'd got as far as "And roused the shepherds +o' Stonehenge, the rangers o' Beaulieu" when we come up, and he +drew our attention to its truth as well as its beauty. That's rare +in poetry, I'm told. He went right on to--"The red glare on Skiddaw +roused those beggars at Carlisle"--which he pointed out was poetic +license for Leith Hill. This allowed your Mr. Leggatt time to +finish pumpin' up his tyres. I 'eard the sweat 'op off his +nose.'</p> +<p>'You know what it is, sir,' said poor Leggatt to me.</p> +<p>'It warfted across my mind, as I listened to what was +trarnspirin', that it might be easier to make the mess than to wipe +it up, but such considerations weighed not with our valiant +leader.</p> +<p>'"Mr. Pyecroft," he says, "it can't have escaped your notice +that we 'ave one angry and 'ighly intelligent army in front of us, +an' another 'ighly angry and equally intelligent army in our rear. +What 'ud you recommend?"</p> +<p>'Most men would have besought 'im to do a lateral glide while +there was yet time, but all I said was: "The rocking-horse isn't +expended yet, sir."</p> +<p>'He laid his hand on my shoulder. "Pye," says he, "there's worse +men than you in loftier places. They shall 'ave it. None the less," +he remarks, "the ice is undeniably packing."</p> +<p>'I may 'ave omitted to point out that at this juncture two large +armies, both deprived of their night's sleep, was awake, as you +might say, and hurryin' into each other's arms. Here endeth the +second chapter.'</p> +<p>He filled his pipe slowly. The uncle had fallen asleep. Leggatt +lit another cigarette.</p> +<p>'We then proceeded <i>ong automobile</i> along the ridge in a +westerly direction towards the miniature fort which had been so +kindly revealed by the searchlight, but which on inspection (your +Mr. Leggatt bumped into an outlyin' reef of it) proved to be a +wurzel-clump; <i>c'est-à-dire</i>, a parallelogrammatic pile +of about three million mangold-wurzels, brought up there for the +sheep, I suppose. On all sides, excep' the one we'd come by, the +ground fell away moderately quick, and down at the bottom there was +a large camp lit up an' full of harsh words of command.</p> +<p>'"I said it was the key to the position," Lootenant Morshed +remarks. "Trot out Persimmon!" which we rightly took to read, +"Un-wrap the rocking-horse."</p> +<p>'"Houp la!" says Jules in a insubordinate tone, an' slaps +Persimmon on the flank.</p> +<p>'"Silence!" says the Lootenant. "This is the Royal Navy, not +Newmarket"; and we carried Persimmon to the top of the +mangel-wurzel clump as directed.</p> +<p>'Owing to the inequalities of the terrain (I <i>do</i> think +your Mr. Leggatt might have had a spirit-level in his kit) he +wouldn't rock free on the bed-plate, and while adjustin' him, his +detachable tail fetched adrift. Our Lootenant was quick to seize +the advantage.</p> +<p>'"Remove that transformation," he says. "Substitute one Roman +candle. Gas-power is superior to manual propulsion."</p> +<p>'So we substituted. He arranged the <i>pièce de +resistarnce</i> in the shape of large drums--not saucers, mark +you--drums of coloured fire, with printed instructions, at proper +distances round Persimmon. There was a brief interregnum while we +dug ourselves in among the wurzels by hand. Then he touched off the +fires, <i>not</i> omitting the Roman candle, and, you may take it +from me, all was visible. Persimmon shone out in his naked +splendour, red to port, green to starboard, and one white light at +his bows, as per Board o' Trade regulations. Only he didn't so much +rock, you might say, as shrug himself, in a manner of speaking, +every time the candle went off. One can't have everything. But the +rest surpassed our highest expectations. I think Persimmon was +noblest on the starboard or green side--more like when a man thinks +he's seeing mackerel in hell, don't you know? And yet I'd be the +last to deprecate the effect of the port light on his teeth, or +that blood-shot look in his left eye. He knew there was something +going on he didn't approve of. He looked worried.'</p> +<p>'Did you laugh?' I said.</p> +<p>'I'm not much of a wag myself; nor it wasn't as if we 'ad time +to allow the spectacle to sink in. The coloured fires was supposed +to burn ten minutes, whereas it was obvious to the meanest capacity +that the Junior Service would arrive by forced marches in about two +and a half. They grarsped our topical allusion as soon as it was +across the foot-lights, so to speak. They were quite chafed at it. +Of course, 'ad we reflected, we might have known that exposin' +illuminated rockin'-horses to an army that was learnin' to ride on +'em partook of the nature of a <i>double entender</i>, as the +French say--same as waggling the tiller lines at a man who's had a +hanging in the family. I knew the cox of the <i>Archimandrite's</i> +galley 'arf killed for a similar <i>plaisan-teree.</i> But we never +anticipated lobsters being so sensitive. That was why we shifted. +We could 'ardly tear our commandin' officer away. He put his head +on one side, and kept cooin'. The only thing he 'ad neglected to +provide was a line of retreat; but your Mr. Leggatt--an 'eroic soul +in the last stage of wet prostration--here took command of the van, +or, rather, the rear-guard. We walked downhill beside him, holding +on to the superstructure to prevent her capsizing. These technical +details, 'owever, are beyond me.' He waved his pipe towards +Leggatt.</p> +<p>'I saw there was two deepish ruts leadin' down 'ill somewhere,' +said Leggatt. 'That was when the soldiers stopped laughin', and +begun to run uphill.'</p> +<p>'Stroll, lovey, stroll!' Pyecroft corrected. 'The Dervish rush +took place later.'</p> +<p>'So I laid her in these ruts. That was where she must 'ave +scraped her silencer a bit. Then they turned sharp right--the ruts +did--and then she stopped bonnet-high in a manure-heap, sir; but +I'll swear it was all of a one in three gradient. I think it was a +barnyard. We waited there,' said Leggatt.</p> +<p>'But not for long,' said Pyecroft. 'The lights were towering out +of the drums on the position we 'ad so valiantly abandoned; and the +Junior Service was escaladin' it <i>en masse</i>. When numerous +bodies of 'ighly trained men arrive simultaneous in the same +latitude from opposite directions, each remarking briskly, "What +the 'ell did you do <i>that</i> for?" detonation, as you might say, +is practically assured. They didn't ask for extraneous aids. If +we'd come out with sworn affidavits of what we'd done they wouldn't +'ave believed us. They wanted each other's company exclusive. Such +was the effect of Persimmon on their clarss feelings. Idol'try, +<i>I</i> call it! Events transpired with the utmost velocity and +rapidly increasing pressures. There was a few remarks about Dicky +Bridoon and mechanical horses, and then some one was smacked--hard +by the sound--in the middle of a remark.'</p> +<p>'That was the man who kept calling for the Forty-fifth +Dragoons,' said Leggatt. 'He got as far as Drag ...'</p> +<p>'Was it?' said Pyecroft dreamily. 'Well, he couldn't say they +didn't come. They all came, and they all fell to arguin' whether +the Infantry should 'ave Persimmon for a regimental pet or the +Cavalry should keep him for stud purposes. Hence the issue was soon +clouded with mangold-wurzels. Our commander said we 'ad sowed the +good seed, and it was bearing abundant fruit. (They weigh between +four and seven pounds apiece.) Seein' the children 'ad got over +their shyness, and 'ad really begun to play games, we backed out o' +the pit and went down, by steps, to the camp below, no man, as you +might say, making us afraid. Here we enjoyed a front view of the +battle, which rolled with renewed impetus, owing to both sides +receiving strong reinforcements every minute. All arms were freely +represented; Cavalry, on this occasion only, acting in concert with +Artillery. They argued the relative merits of horses <i>versus</i> +feet, so to say, but they didn't neglect Persimmon. The wounded +rolling downhill with the wurzels informed us that he had long ago +been socialised, and the smallest souvenirs were worth a man's +life. Speaking broadly, the Junior Service appeared to be a shade +out of 'and, if I may venture so far. They did <i>not</i> pay +prompt and unhesitating obedience to the "Retires" or the "Cease +Fires" or the "For 'Eaven's sake come to bed, ducky" of their +officers, who, I regret to say, were 'otly embroiled at the heads +of their respective units.'</p> +<p>'How did you find that out?' I asked.</p> +<p>'On account of Lootenant Morshed going to the Mess tent to call +on his uncle and raise a drink; but all hands had gone to the +front. We thought we 'eard somebody bathing behind the tent, and we +found an oldish gentleman tryin' to drown a boy in knickerbockers +in a horse-trough. He kept him under with a bicycle, so to speak. +He 'ad nearly accomplished his fell design, when we frustrated him. +He was in a highly malleable condition and full o' <i>juice de +spree</i>. "Arsk not what I am," he says. "My wife 'll tell me that +quite soon enough. Arsk rather what I've been," he says. "I've been +dinin' here," he says. "I commanded 'em in the Eighties," he says, +"and, Gawd forgive me," he says, sobbin' 'eavily, "I've spent this +holy evening telling their Colonel they was a set of educated +inefficients. Hark to 'em!" We could, without strainin' ourselves; +but how <i>he</i> picked up the gentle murmur of his own corps in +that on-the-knee party up the hill I don't know. "They've marched +and fought thirty mile to-day," he shouts, "and now they're tearin' +the <i>intestines</i> out of the Cavalry up yonder! They won't stop +this side the gates o' Delhi," he says. "I commanded their +ancestors. There's nothing wrong with the Service," he says, +wringing out his trousers on his lap. "'Eaven pardon me for +doubtin' 'em! Same old game--same young beggars."</p> +<p>'The boy in the knickerbockers, languishing on a chair, puts in +a claim for one drink. "Let him go dry," says our friend in +shirt-tails. "He's a reporter. He run into me on his filthy bicycle +and he asked me if I could furnish 'im with particulars about the +mutiny in the Army. You false-'earted proletarian publicist," he +says, shakin' his finger at 'im--for he was reelly annoyed--"I'll +teach you to defile what you can't comprebend! When my regiment's +in a state o' mutiny, I'll do myself the honour of informing you +personally. You particularly ignorant and very narsty little man," +he says, "you're no better than a dhobi's donkey! If there wasn't +dirty linen to wash, you'd starve," he says, "and why I haven't +drowned you will be the lastin' regret of my life."</p> +<p>'Well, we sat with 'em and 'ad drinks for about half-an-hour in +front of the Mess tent. He'd ha' killed the reporter if there +hadn't been witnesses, and the reporter might have taken notes of +the battle; so we acted as two-way buffers, in a sense. I don't +hold with the Press mingling up with Service matters. They draw +false conclusions. Now, mark you, at a moderate estimate, there +were seven thousand men in the fighting line, half of 'em hurt in +their professional feelings, an' the other half rubbin' in the +liniment, as you might say. All due to Persimmon! If you 'adn't +seen it you wouldn't 'ave believed it. And yet, mark you, not one +single unit of 'em even resorted to his belt. They confined +themselves to natural producks--hands and the wurzels. I thought +Jules was havin' fits, till it trarnspired the same thought had +impressed him in the French language. He called it +<i>incroyable</i>, I believe. Seven thousand men, with seven +thousand rifles, belts, and bayonets, in a violently agitated +condition, and not a ungenteel blow struck from first to last. The +old gentleman drew our attention to it as well. It was quite +noticeable.</p> +<p>'Lack of ammunition was the primerry cause of the battle +ceasin'. A Brigade-Major came in, wipin' his nose on both cuffs, +and sayin' he 'ad 'ad snuff. The brigadier-uncle followed. He was, +so to speak, sneezin'. We thought it best to shift our moorings +without attractin' attention; so we shifted. They 'ad called the +cows 'ome by then. The Junior Service was going to bye-bye all +round us, as happy as the ship's monkey when he's been playin' with +the paints, and Lootenant Morshed and Jules kept bowin' to port and +starboard of the superstructure, acknowledgin' the unstinted +applause which the multitude would 'ave given 'em if they'd known +the facts. On the other 'and, as your Mr. Leggatt observed, they +might 'ave killed us.</p> +<p>'That would have been about five bells in the middle watch, say +half-past two. A well-spent evening. There was but little to be +gained by entering Portsmouth at that hour, so we turned off on the +grass (this was after we had found a road under us), and we cast +anchors out at the stern and prayed for the day.</p> +<p>'But your Mr. Leggatt he had to make and mend tyres all our +watch below. It trarnspired she had been running on the rim o' two +or three wheels, which, very properly, he hadn't reported till the +close of the action. And that's the reason of your four new tyres. +Mr. Morshed was of opinion you'd earned 'em. Do you dissent?'</p> +<p>I stretched out my hand, which Pyecroft crushed to pulp. 'No, +Pye,' I said, deeply moved, 'I agree entirely. But what happened to +Jules?'</p> +<p>'We returned him to his own Navy after breakfast. He wouldn't +have kept much longer without some one in his own language to tell +it to. I don't know any man I ever took more compassion on than +Jules. 'Is sufferings swelled him up centimetres, and all he could +do on the Hard was to kiss Lootenant Morshed and me, <i>and</i> +your Mr. Leggatt. He deserved that much. A cordial beggar.'</p> +<p>Pyecroft looked at the washed cups on the table, and the low +sunshine on my car's back in the yard.</p> +<p>'Too early to drink to him,' he said. 'But I feel it just the +same.'</p> +<p>The uncle, sunk in his chair, snored a little; the canary +answered with a shrill lullaby. Pyecroft picked up the duster, +threw it over the cage, put his finger to his lips, and we tiptoed +out into the shop, while Leggatt brought the car round.</p> +<p>'I'll look out for the news in the papers,' I said, as I got +in.</p> +<p>'Oh, we short-circuited that! Nothing trarnspired excep' a +statement to the effect that some Territorial battalions had played +about with turnips at the conclusion of the manoeuvres The taxpayer +don't know all he gets for his money. Farewell!'</p> +<p>We moved off just in time to be blocked by a regiment coming +towards the station to entrain for London.</p> +<p>'Beg your pardon, sir,' said a sergeant in charge of the +baggage, 'but would you mind backin' a bit till we get the waggons +past?'</p> +<p>'Certainly,' I said. 'You don't happen to have a rocking-horse +among your kit, do you?'</p> +<p>The rattle of our reverse drowned his answer, but I saw his +eyes. One of them was blackish-green, about four days old.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page330"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3"><b>THE LEGEND OF MIRTH</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The Four Archangels, so the legends tell,</p> +<p>Raphael, Gabriel, Michael, Azrael,</p> +<p>Being first of those to whom the Power was shown,</p> +<p>Stood first of all the Host before The Throne,</p> +<p>And when the Charges were allotted burst</p> +<p>Tumultuous-winged from out the assembly first.</p> +<p>Zeal was their spur that bade them strictly heed</p> +<p>Their own high judgment on their lightest deed.</p> +<p>Zeal was their spur that, when relief was given,</p> +<p>Urged them unwearied to fresh toil in Heaven;</p> +<p>For Honour's sake perfecting every task</p> +<p>Beyond what e'en Perfection's self could ask....</p> +<p>And Allah, Who created Zeal and Pride,</p> +<p>Knows how the twain are perilous-near allied.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>It chanced on one of Heaven's long-lighted days,</p> +<p>The Four and all the Host having gone their ways</p> +<p>Each to his Charge, the shining Courts were void</p> +<p>Save for one Seraph whom no charge employed,</p> +<p>With folden wings and slumber-threatened brow.</p> +<p>To whom The Word: 'Beloved, what dost thou?'</p> +<p>'By the Permission,' came the answer soft,</p> +<p>'Little I do nor do that little oft.</p> +<p>As is The Will in Heaven so on Earth</p> +<p>Where by The Will I strive to make men mirth.'</p> +<p>He ceased and sped, hearing The Word once more:</p> +<p>'Beloved, go thy way and greet the Four.'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Systems and Universes overpast,</p> +<p>The Seraph came upon the Four, at last,</p> +<p>Guiding and guarding with devoted mind</p> +<p>The tedious generations of mankind</p> +<p>Who lent at most unwilling ear and eye</p> +<p>When they could not escape the ministry....</p> +<p>Yet, patient, faithful, firm, persistent, just</p> +<p>Toward all that gross, indifferent, facile dust,</p> +<p>The Archangels laboured to discharge their trust</p> +<p>By precept and example, prayer and law,</p> +<p>Advice, reproof, and rule, but, labouring, saw</p> +<p>Each in his fellow's countenance confessed,</p> +<p>The Doubt that sickens: 'Have I done my best?'</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Even as they sighed and turned to toil anew,</p> +<p>The Seraph hailed them with observance due;</p> +<p>And after some fit talk of higher things</p> +<p>Touched tentative on mundane happenings.</p> +<p>This they permitting, he, emboldened thus,</p> +<p>Prolused of humankind promiscuous.</p> +<p>And, since the large contention less avails</p> +<p>Than instances observed, he told them tales--Tales</p> +<p>of the shop, the bed, the court, the street,</p> +<p>Intimate, elemental, indiscreet:</p> +<p>Occasions where Confusion smiting swift</p> +<p>Piles jest on jest as snow-slides pile the drift.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Whence, one by one, beneath derisive skies,</p> +<p>The victims bare, bewildered heads arise:</p> +<p>Tales of the passing of the spirit, graced</p> +<p>With humour blinding as the doom it faced:</p> +<p>Stark tales of ribaldry that broke aside</p> +<p>To tears, by laughter swallowed ere they dried:</p> +<p>Tales to which neither grace nor gain accrue,</p> +<p>But only (Allah be exalted!) true,</p> +<p>And only, as the Seraph showed that night,</p> +<p>Delighting to the limits of delight.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>These he rehearsed with artful pause and halt,</p> +<p>And such pretence of memory at fault,</p> +<p>That soon the Four--so well the bait was thrown--</p> +<p>Came to his aid with memories of their own--</p> +<p>Matters dismissed long since as small or vain,</p> +<p>Whereof the high significance had lain</p> +<p>Hid, till the ungirt glosses made it plain.</p> +<p>Then as enlightenment came broad and fast,</p> +<p>Each marvelled at his own oblivious past</p> +<p>Until--the Gates of Laughter opened wide--</p> +<p>The Four, with that bland Seraph at their side,</p> +<p>While they recalled, compared, and amplified,</p> +<p>In utter mirth forgot both zeal and pride.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>High over Heaven the lamps of midnight burned</p> +<p>Ere, weak with merriment, the Four returned,</p> +<p>Not in that order they were wont to keep--</p> +<p>Pinion to pinion answering, sweep for sweep,</p> +<p>In awful diapason heard afar,</p> +<p>But shoutingly adrift 'twixt star and star.</p> +<p>Reeling a planet's orbit left or right</p> +<p>As laughter took them in the abysmal Night;</p> +<p>Or, by the point of some remembered jest,</p> +<p>Winged and brought helpless down through gulfs unguessed,</p> +<p>Where the blank worlds that gather to the birth</p> +<p>Leaped in the womb of Darkness at their mirth,</p> +<p>And e'en Gehenna's bondsmen understood.</p> +<p>They were not damned from human brotherhood.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Not first nor last of Heaven's high Host, the Four</p> +<p>That night took place beneath The Throne once more.</p> +<p>O lovelier than their morning majesty,</p> +<p>The understanding light behind the eye!</p> +<p>O more compelling than their old command,</p> +<p>The new-learned friendly gesture of the hand!</p> +<p>O sweeter than their zealous fellowship,</p> +<p>The wise half-smile that passed from lip to lip!</p> +<p>O well and roundly, when Command was given,</p> +<p>They told their tale against themselves to Heaven,</p> +<p>And in the silence, waiting on The Word,</p> +<p>Received the Peace and Pardon of The Lord!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page335"></a> +<h2>'My Son's Wife'</h2> +<h3>(1913)</h3> +<br> +<p>He had suffered from the disease of the century since his early +youth, and before he was thirty he was heavily marked with it. He +and a few friends had rearranged Heaven very comfortably, but the +reorganisation of Earth, which they called Society, was even +greater fun. It demanded Work in the shape of many taxi-rides +daily; hours of brilliant talk with brilliant talkers; some +sparkling correspondence; a few silences (but on the understanding +that their own turn should come soon) while other people expounded +philosophies; and a fair number of picture-galleries, tea-fights, +concerts, theatres, music-halls, and cinema shows; the whole +trimmed with love-making to women whose hair smelt of +cigarette-smoke. Such strong days sent Frankwell Midmore back to +his flat assured that he and his friends had helped the World a +step nearer the Truth, the Dawn, and the New Order.</p> +<p>His temperament, he said, led him more towards concrete data +than abstract ideas. People who investigate detail are apt to be +tired at the day's end. The same temperament, or it may have been a +woman, made him early attach himself to the Immoderate Left of his +Cause in the capacity of an experimenter in Social Relations. And +since the Immoderate Left contains plenty of women anxious to help +earnest inquirers with large independent incomes to arrive at +evaluations of essentials, Frankwell Midmore's lot was far from +contemptible.</p> +<p>At that hour Fate chose to play with him. A widowed aunt, widely +separated by nature, and more widely by marriage, from all that +Midmore's mother had ever been or desired to be, died and left him +possessions. Mrs. Midmore, having that summer embraced a creed +which denied the existence of death, naturally could not stoop to +burial; but Midmore had to leave London for the dank country at a +season when Social Regeneration works best through long, cushioned +conferences, two by two, after tea. There he faced the bracing +ritual of the British funeral, and was wept at across the raw grave +by an elderly coffin-shaped female with a long nose, who called him +'Master Frankie'; and there he was congratulated behind an echoing +top-hat by a man he mistook for a mute, who turned out to be his +aunt's lawyer. He wrote his mother next day, after a bright account +of the funeral:</p> +<p>'So far as I can understand, she has left me between four and +five hundred a year. It all comes from Ther Land, as they call it +down here. The unspeakable attorney, Sperrit, and a green-eyed +daughter, who hums to herself as she tramps but is silent on all +subjects except "huntin'," insisted on taking me to see it. Ther +Land is brown and green in alternate slabs like chocolate and +pistachio cakes, speckled with occasional peasants who do not +utter. In case it should not be wet enough there is a wet brook in +the middle of it. Ther House is by the brook. I shall look into it +later. If there should be any little memento of Jenny that you care +for, let me know. Didn't you tell me that mid-Victorian furniture +is coming into the market again? Jenny's old maid--it is called +Rhoda Dolbie--tells me that Jenny promised it thirty pounds a year. +The will does not. Hence, I suppose, the tears at the funeral. But +that is close on ten per cent of the income. I fancy Jenny has +destroyed all her private papers and records of her <i>vie +intime</i>, if, indeed, life be possible in such a place. The +Sperrit man told me that if I had means of my own I might come and +live on Ther Land. I didn't tell him how much I would pay not to! I +cannot think it right that any human being should exercise mastery +over others in the merciless fashion our tom-fool social system +permits; so, as it is all mine, I intend to sell it whenever the +unholy Sperrit can find a purchaser.'</p> +<p>And he went to Mr. Sperrit with the idea next day, just before +returning to town.</p> +<p>'Quite so,' said the lawyer. 'I see your point, of course. But +the house itself is rather old-fashioned--hardly the type +purchasers demand nowadays. There's no park, of course, and the +bulk of the land is let to a life-tenant, a Mr. Sidney. As long as +he pays his rent, he can't be turned out, and even if he +didn't'--Mr. Sperrit's face relaxed a shade--'you might have a +difficulty.'</p> +<p>'The property brings four hundred a year, I understand,' said +Midmore.</p> +<p>'Well, hardly--ha-ardly. Deducting land and income tax, tithes, +fire insurance, cost of collection and repairs of course, it +returned two hundred and eighty-four pounds last year. The repairs +are rather a large item--owing to the brook. I call it Liris--out +of Horace, you know.'</p> +<p>Midmore looked at his watch impatiently.</p> +<p>'I suppose you can find somebody to buy it?' he repeated.</p> +<p>'We will do our best, of course, if those are your instructions. +Then, that is all except'--here Midmore half rose, but Mr. +Sperrit's little grey eyes held his large brown ones +firmly--'except about Rhoda Dolbie, Mrs. Werf's maid. I may tell +you that we did not draw up your aunt's last will. She grew +secretive towards the last--elderly people often do--and had it +done in London. I expect her memory failed her, or she mislaid her +notes. She used to put them in her spectacle-case.... My motor only +takes eight minutes to get to the station, Mr. Midmore ... but, as +I was saying, whenever she made her will with <i>us</i>, Mrs. Werf +always left Rhoda thirty pounds per annum. Charlie, the wills!' A +clerk with a baldish head and a long nose dealt documents on to the +table like cards, and breathed heavily behind Midmore. 'It's in no +sense a legal obligation, of course,' said Mr. Sperrit. 'Ah, that +one is dated January the 11th, eighteen eighty-nine.'</p> +<p>Midmore looked at his watch again and found himself saying with +no good grace: 'Well, I suppose she'd better have it--for the +present at any rate.'</p> +<p>He escaped with an uneasy feeling that two hundred and +fifty-four pounds a year was not exactly four hundred, and that +Charlie's long nose annoyed him. Then he returned, first-class, to +his own affairs.</p> +<p>Of the two, perhaps three, experiments in Social Relations which +he had then in hand, one interested him acutely. It had run for +some months and promised most variegated and interesting +developments, on which he dwelt luxuriously all the way to town. +When he reached his flat he was not well prepared for a twelve-page +letter explaining, in the diction of the Immoderate Left which +rubricates its I's and illuminates its T's, that the lady had +realised greater attractions in another Soul. She re-stated, rather +than pleaded, the gospel of the Immoderate Left as her +justification, and ended in an impassioned demand for her right to +express herself in and on her own life, through which, she pointed +out, she could pass but once. She added that if, later, she should +discover Midmore was 'essentially complementary to her needs,' she +would tell him so. That Midmore had himself written much the same +sort of epistle--barring the hint of return--to a woman of whom his +needs for self-expression had caused him to weary three years +before, did not assist him in the least. He expressed himself to +the gas-fire in terms essential but not complimentary. Then he +reflected on the detached criticism of his best friends and her +best friends, male and female, with whom he and she and others had +talked so openly while their gay adventure was in flower. He +recalled, too--this must have been about midnight--her analysis +from every angle, remote and most intimate, of the mate to whom she +had been adjudged under the base convention which is styled +marriage. Later, at that bad hour when the cattle wake for a +little, he remembered her in other aspects and went down into the +hell appointed; desolate, desiring, with no God to call upon. About +eleven o'clock next morning Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the +Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite called upon him 'for they had +made appointment together' to see how he took it; but the janitor +told them that Job had gone--into the country, he believed.</p> +<p>Midmore's relief when he found his story was not written across +his aching temples for Mr. Sperrit to read--the defeated lover, +like the successful one, believes all earth privy to his soul--was +put down by Mr. Sperrit to quite different causes. He led him into +a morning-room. The rest of the house seemed to be full of people, +singing to a loud piano idiotic songs about cows, and the hall +smelt of damp cloaks.</p> +<p>'It's our evening to take the winter cantata,' Mr. Sperrit +explained. 'It's "High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire." I hoped +you'd come back. There are scores of little things to settle. As +for the house, of course, it stands ready for you at any time. I +couldn't get Rhoda out of it--nor could Charlie for that matter. +She's the sister, isn't she, of the nurse who brought you down here +when you were four, she says, to recover from measles?'</p> +<p>'Is she? Was I?' said Midmore through the bad tastes in his +mouth. 'D'you suppose I could stay there the night?'</p> +<p>Thirty joyous young voices shouted appeal to some one to leave +their 'pipes of parsley 'ollow--'ollow--'ollow!' Mr. Sperrit had to +raise his voice above the din.</p> +<p>'Well, if I asked you to stay <i>here</i>, I should never hear +the last of it from Rhoda. She's a little cracked, of course, but +the soul of devotion and capable of anything. <i>Ne sit +ancillae</i>, you know.'</p> +<p>'Thank you. Then I'll go. I'll walk.' He stumbled out dazed and +sick into the winter twilight, and sought the square house by the +brook.</p> +<p>It was not a dignified entry, because when the door was +unchained and Rhoda exclaimed, he took two valiant steps into the +hall and then fainted--as men sometimes will after twenty-two hours +of strong emotion and little food.</p> +<p>'I'm sorry,' he said when he could speak. He was lying at the +foot of the stairs, his head on Rhoda's lap.</p> +<p>'Your 'ome is your castle, sir,' was the reply in his hair. 'I +smelt it wasn't drink. You lay on the sofa till I get your +supper.'</p> +<p>She settled him in a drawing-room hung with yellow silk, heavy +with the smell of dead leaves and oil lamp. Something murmured +soothingly in the background and overcame the noises in his head. +He thought he heard horses' feet on wet gravel and a voice singing +about ships and flocks and grass. It passed close to the shuttered +bay-window.</p> +<blockquote>But each will mourn his own, she saith,<br> +And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath<br> +Than my son's wife, Elizabeth ...<br> +Cusha--cusha--cusha--calling.</blockquote> +<p>The hoofs broke into a canter as Rhoda entered with the tray. +'And then I'll put you to bed,' she said. 'Sidney's coming in the +morning.' Midmore asked no questions. He dragged his poor bruised +soul to bed and would have pitied it all over again, but the food +and warm sherry and water drugged him to instant sleep.</p> +<p>Rhoda's voice wakened him, asking whether he would have ''ip, +foot, or sitz,' which he understood were the baths of the +establishment. 'Suppose you try all three,' she suggested. 'They're +all yours, you know, sir.'</p> +<p>He would have renewed his sorrows with the daylight, but her +words struck him pleasantly. Everything his eyes opened upon was +his very own to keep for ever. The carved four-post Chippendale +bed, obviously worth hundreds; the wavy walnut William and Mary +chairs--he had seen worse ones labelled twenty guineas apiece; the +oval medallion mirror; the delicate eighteenth-century wire +fireguard; the heavy brocaded curtains were his--all his. So, too, +a great garden full of birds that faced him when he shaved; a +mulberry tree, a sun-dial, and a dull, steel-coloured brook that +murmured level with the edge of a lawn a hundred yards away. +Peculiarly and privately his own was the smell of sausages and +coffee that he sniffed at the head of the wide square landing, all +set round with mysterious doors and Bartolozzi prints. He spent two +hours after breakfast in exploring his new possessions. His heart +leaped up at such things as sewing-machines, a rubber-tyred +bath-chair in a tiled passage, a malachite-headed Malacca cane, +boxes and boxes of unopened stationery, seal-rings, bunches of +keys, and at the bottom of a steel-net reticule a little leather +purse with seven pounds ten shillings in gold and eleven shillings +in silver.</p> +<p>'You used to play with that when my sister brought you down here +after your measles,' said Rhoda as he slipped the money into his +pocket. 'Now, this was your pore dear auntie's business-room.' She +opened a low door. 'Oh, I forgot about Mr. Sidney! There he is.' An +enormous old man with rheumy red eyes that blinked under downy +white eyebrows sat in an Empire chair, his cap in his hands. Rhoda +withdrew sniffing. The man looked Midmore over in silence, then +jerked a thumb towards the door. 'I reckon she told you who I be,' +he began. 'I'm the only farmer you've got. Nothin' goes off my +place 'thout it walks on its own feet. What about my +pig-pound?'</p> +<p>'Well, what about it?' said Midmore.</p> +<p>'That's just what I be come about. The County Councils are +getting more particular. Did ye know there was swine fever at +Pashell's? There <i>be</i>. It'll 'ave to be in brick.'</p> +<p>'Yes,' said Midmore politely.</p> +<p>'I've bin at your aunt that was, plenty times about it. I don't +say she wasn't a just woman, but she didn't read the lease same way +I did. I be used to bein' put upon, but there's no doing any longer +'thout that pig-pound.'</p> +<p>'When would you like it?' Midmore asked. It seemed the easiest +road to take.</p> +<p>'Any time or other suits me, I reckon. He ain't thrivin' where +he is, an' I paid eighteen shillin' for him.' He crossed his hands +on his stick and gave no further sign of life.</p> +<p>'Is that all?' Midmore stammered.</p> +<p>'All now--excep''--he glanced fretfully at the table beside +him--'excep' my usuals. Where's that Rhoda?'</p> +<p>Midmore rang the bell. Rhoda came in with a bottle and a glass. +The old man helped himself to four stiff fingers, rose in one +piece, and stumped out. At the door he cried ferociously: 'Don't +suppose it's any odds to you whether I'm drowned or not, but them +floodgates want a wheel and winch, they do. I be too old for +liftin' 'em with the bar--my time o' life.'</p> +<p>'Good riddance if 'e was drowned,' said Rhoda. 'But don't you +mind him. He's only amusin' himself. Your pore dear auntie used to +give 'im 'is usual--'tisn't the whisky <i>you</i> drink--an' send +'im about 'is business.'</p> +<p>'I see. Now, is a pig-pound the same thing as a pig-sty?'</p> +<p>Rhoda nodded. ''E needs one, too, but 'e ain't entitled to it. +You look at 'is lease--third drawer on the left in that Bombay +cab'net--an' next time 'e comes you ask 'im to read it. That'll +choke 'im off, because 'e can't!'</p> +<p>There was nothing in Midmore's past to teach him the message and +significance of a hand-written lease of the late 'eighties, but +Rhoda interpreted.</p> +<p>'It don't mean anything reelly,' was her cheerful conclusion, +'excep' you mustn't get rid of him anyhow, an' 'e can do what 'e +likes always. Lucky for us 'e <i>do</i> farm; and if it wasn't for +'is woman--'</p> +<p>'Oh, there's a Mrs. Sidney, is there?'</p> +<p>'Lor, <i>no</i>!' The Sidneys don't marry. They keep. That's his +fourth since--to my knowledge. He was a takin' man from the +first.'</p> +<p>'Any families?'</p> +<p>'They'd be grown up by now if there was, wouldn't they? But you +can't spend all your days considerin' 'is interests. That's what +gave your pore aunt 'er indigestion. 'Ave you seen the +gun-room?'</p> +<p>Midmore held strong views on the immorality of taking life for +pleasure. But there was no denying that the late Colonel Werf's +seventy-guinea breechloaders were good at their filthy job. He +loaded one, took it out and pointed--merely pointed--it at a +cock-pheasant which rose out of a shrubbery behind the kitchen, and +the flaming bird came down in a long slant on the lawn, stone dead. +Rhoda from the scullery said it was a lovely shot, and told him +lunch was ready.</p> +<p>He spent the afternoon gun in one hand, a map in the other, +beating the bounds of his lands. They lay altogether in a shallow, +uninteresting valley, flanked with woods and bisected by a brook. +Up stream was his own house; down stream, less than half a mile, a +low red farm-house squatted in an old orchard, beside what looked +like small lock-gates on the Thames. There was no doubt as to +ownership. Mr. Sidney saw him while yet far off, and bellowed at +him about pig-pounds and floodgates. These last were two great +sliding shutters of weedy oak across the brook, which were prised +up inch by inch with a crowbar along a notched strip of iron, and +when Sidney opened them they at once let out half the water. +Midmore watched it shrink between its aldered banks like some +conjuring trick. This, too, was his very own.</p> +<p>'I see,' he said. 'How interesting! Now, what's that bell for?' +he went on, pointing to an old ship's bell in a rude belfry at the +end of an outhouse. 'Was that a chapel once?' The red-eyed giant +seemed to have difficulty in expressing himself for the moment and +blinked savagely.</p> +<p>'Yes,' he said at last. 'My chapel. When you 'ear that bell ring +you'll 'ear something. Nobody but me 'ud put up with it--but I +reckon it don't make any odds to you.' He slammed the gates down +again, and the brook rose behind them with a suck and a grunt.</p> +<p>Midmore moved off, conscious that he might be safer with Rhoda +to hold his conversational hand. As he passed the front of the +farm-house a smooth fat woman, with neatly parted grey hair under a +widow's cap, curtsied to him deferentially through the window. By +every teaching of the Immoderate Left she had a perfect right to +express herself in any way she pleased, but the curtsey revolted +him. And on his way home he was hailed from behind a hedge by a +manifest idiot with no roof to his mouth, who hallooed and danced +round him.</p> +<p>'What did that beast want?' he demanded of Rhoda at tea.</p> +<p>'Jimmy? He only wanted to know if you 'ad any telegrams to send. +'E'll go anywhere so long as 'tisn't across running water. That +gives 'im 'is seizures. Even talkin' about it for fun like makes +'im shake.'</p> +<p>'But why isn't he where he can be properly looked after?'</p> +<p>'What 'arm's 'e doing? E's a love-child, but 'is family can pay +for 'im. If 'e was locked up 'e'd die all off at once, like a wild +rabbit. Won't you, please, look at the drive, sir?'</p> +<p>Midmore looked in the fading light. The neat gravel was pitted +with large roundish holes, and there was a punch or two of the same +sort on the lawn.</p> +<p>'That's the 'unt comin' 'ome,' Rhoda explained. 'Your pore dear +auntie always let 'em use our drive for a short cut after the +Colonel died. The Colonel wouldn't so much because he preserved; +but your auntie was always an 'orsewoman till 'er sciatica.'</p> +<p>'Isn't there some one who can rake it over or--or something?' +said Midmore vaguely.</p> +<p>'Oh yes. You'll never see it in the morning, but--you was out +when they came 'ome an' Mister Fisher--he's the Master--told me to +tell you with 'is compliments that if you wasn't preservin' and +cared to 'old to the old understanding', is gravel-pit is at your +service same as before. 'E thought, perhaps, you mightn't know, and +it 'ad slipped my mind to tell you. It's good gravel, Mister +Fisher's, and it binds beautiful on the drive. We 'ave to draw it, +o' course, from the pit, but--'</p> +<p>Midmore looked at her helplessly.</p> +<p>'Rhoda,' said he, 'what am I supposed to do?'</p> +<p>'Oh, let 'em come through,' she replied. 'You never know. You +may want to 'unt yourself some day.'</p> +<p>That evening it rained and his misery returned on him, the worse +for having been diverted. At last he was driven to paw over a few +score books in a panelled room called the library, and realised +with horror what the late Colonel Werf's mind must have been in its +prime. The volumes smelt of a dead world as strongly as they did of +mildew. He opened and thrust them back, one after another, till +crude coloured illustrations of men on horses held his eye. He +began at random and read a little, moved into the drawing-room with +the volume, and settled down by the fire still reading. It was a +foul world into which he peeped for the first time--a heavy-eating, +hard-drinking hell of horse-copers, swindlers, matchmaking mothers, +economically dependent virgins selling themselves blushingly for +cash and lands: Jews, tradesmen, and an ill-considered spawn of +Dickens-and-horsedung characters (I give Midmore's own criticism), +but he read on, fascinated, and behold, from the pages leaped, as +it were, the brother to the red-eyed man of the brook, bellowing at +a landlord (here Midmore realised that <i>he</i> was that very +animal) for new barns; and another man who, like himself again, +objected to hoof-marks on gravel. Outrageous as thought and +conception were, the stuff seemed to have the rudiments of +observation. He dug out other volumes by the same author, till +Rhoda came in with a silver candlestick.</p> +<p>'Rhoda,' said he, 'did you ever hear about a character called +James Pigg--and Batsey?'</p> +<p>'Why, o' course,' said she. 'The Colonel used to come into the +kitchen in 'is dressin'-gown an' read us all those Jorrockses.'</p> +<p>'Oh, Lord!' said Midmore, and went to bed with a book called +<i>Handley Cross</i> under his arm, and a lonelier Columbus into a +stranger world the wet-ringed moon never looked upon.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Here we omit much. But Midmore never denied that for the epicure +in sensation the urgent needs of an ancient house, as interpreted +by Rhoda pointing to daylight through attic-tiles held in place by +moss, gives an edge to the pleasure of Social Research elsewhere. +Equally he found that the reaction following prolonged research +loses much of its grey terror if one knows one can at will bathe +the soul in the society of plumbers (all the water-pipes had +chronic appendicitis), village idiots (Jimmy had taken Midmore +under his weak wing and camped daily at the drive-gates), and a +giant with red eyelids whose every action is an unpredictable +outrage.</p> +<p>Towards spring Midmore filled his house with a few friends of +the Immoderate Left. It happened to be the day when, all things and +Rhoda working together, a cartload of bricks, another of sand, and +some bags of lime had been despatched to build Sidney his almost +daily-demanded pig-pound. Midmore took his friends across the flat +fields with some idea of showing them Sidney as a type of 'the +peasantry.' They hit the minute when Sidney, hoarse with rage, was +ordering bricklayer, mate, carts and all off his premises. The +visitors disposed themselves to listen.</p> +<p>'You never give me no notice about changin' the pig,' Sidney +shouted. The pig--at least eighteen inches long--reared on end in +the old sty and smiled at the company.</p> +<p>'But, my good man--' Midmore opened.</p> +<p>'I ain't! For aught you know I be a dam' sight worse than you +be. You can't come and be'ave arbit'ry with me. You <i>are</i> +be'avin' arbit'ry! All you men go clean away an' don't set foot on +my land till I bid ye.'</p> +<p>'But you asked'--Midmore felt his voice jump up--'to have the +pig-pound built.'</p> +<p>''Spose I did. That's no reason you shouldn't send me notice to +change the pig. 'Comin' down on me like this 'thout warnin'! That +pig's got to be got into the cowshed an' all.'</p> +<p>'Then open the door and let him run in,' said Midmore.</p> +<p>'Don't you be'ave arbit'ry with <i>me</i>! Take all your dam' +men 'ome off my land. I won't be treated arbit'ry.'</p> +<p>The carts moved off without a word, and Sidney went into the +house and slammed the door.</p> +<p>'Now, I hold that is enormously significant,' said a visitor. +'Here you have the logical outcome of centuries of feudal +oppression--the frenzy of fear.' The company looked at Midmore with +grave pain.</p> +<p>'But he <i>did</i> worry my life out about his pig-sty,' was all +Midmore found to say.</p> +<p>Others took up the parable and proved to him if he only held +true to the gospels of the Immoderate Left the earth would soon be +covered with 'jolly little' pig-sties, built in the intervals of +morris-dancing by 'the peasant' himself.</p> +<p>Midmore felt grateful when the door opened again and Mr. Sidney +invited them all to retire to the road which, he pointed out, was +public. As they turned the corner of the house, a smooth-faced +woman in a widow's cap curtsied to each of them through the +window.</p> +<p>Instantly they drew pictures of that woman's lot, deprived of +all vehicle for self-expression--'the set grey life and apathetic +end,' one quoted--and they discussed the tremendous significance of +village theatricals. Even a month ago Midmore would have told them +all that he knew and Rhoda had dropped about Sidney's forms of +self-expression. Now, for some strange reason, he was content to +let the talk run on from village to metropolitan and world +drama.</p> +<p>Rhoda advised him after the visitors left that 'if he wanted to +do that again' he had better go up to town.</p> +<p>'But we only sat on cushions on the floor,' said her master.</p> +<p>'They're too old for romps,' she retorted, 'an' it's only the +beginning of things. I've seen what <i>I've</i> seen. Besides, they +talked and laughed in the passage going to their baths--such as +took 'em.'</p> +<p>'Don't be a fool, Rhoda,' said Midmore. No man--unless he has +loved her--will casually dismiss a woman on whose lap he has laid +his head.</p> +<p>'Very good,' she snorted, 'but that cuts both ways. An' now, you +go down to Sidney's this evenin' and put him where he ought to be. +He was in his right about you givin' 'im notice about changin' the +pig, but he 'adn't any right to turn it up before your company. No +manners, no pig-pound. He'll understand.'</p> +<p>Midmore did his best to make him. He found himself reviling the +old man in speech and with a joy quite new in all his experience. +He wound up--it was a plagiarism from a plumber--by telling Mr. +Sidney that he looked like a turkey-cock, had the morals of a +parish bull, and need never hope for a new pig-pound as long as he +or Midmore lived.</p> +<p>'Very good,' said the giant. 'I reckon you thought you 'ad +something against me, and now you've come down an' told it me like +man to man. Quite right. I don't bear malice. Now, you send along +those bricks an' sand, an' I'll make a do to build the pig-pound +myself. If you look at my lease you'll find out you're bound to +provide me materials for the repairs. Only--only I thought there'd +be no 'arm in my askin' you to do it throughout like.'</p> +<p>Midmore fairly gasped. 'Then, why the devil did you turn my +carts back when--when I sent them up here to do it throughout for +you?'</p> +<p>Mr. Sidney sat down on the floodgates, his eyebrows knitted in +thought.</p> +<p>'I'll tell you,' he said slowly. ''Twas too dam' like cheatin' a +suckin' baby. My woman, she said so too.'</p> +<p>For a few seconds the teachings of the Immoderate Left, whose +humour is all their own, wrestled with those of Mother Earth, who +has her own humours. Then Midmore laughed till he could scarcely +stand. In due time Mr. Sidney laughed too--crowing and wheezing +crescendo till it broke from him in roars. They shook hands, and +Midmore went home grateful that he had held his tongue among his +companions.</p> +<p>When he reached his house he met three or four men and women on +horse-back, very muddy indeed, coming down the drive. Feeling +hungry himself, he asked them if they were hungry. They said they +were, and he bade them enter. Jimmy took their horses, who seemed +to know him. Rhoda took their battered hats, led the women upstairs +for hairpins, and presently fed them all with tea-cakes, poached +eggs, anchovy toast, and drinks from a coromandel-wood liqueur case +which Midmore had never known that he possessed.</p> +<p>'And I <i>will</i> say,' said Miss Connie Sperrit, her spurred +foot on the fender and a smoking muffin in her whip hand, 'Rhoda +does one top-hole. She always did since I was eight.'</p> +<p>'Seven, Miss, was when you began to 'unt,' said Rhoda, setting +down more buttered toast.</p> +<p>'And so,' the M.F.H. was saying to Midmore, 'when he got to your +brute Sidney's land, we had to whip 'em off. It's a regular Alsatia +for 'em. They know it. Why'--he dropped his voice--'I don't want to +say anything against Sidney as your tenant, of course, but I do +believe the old scoundrel's perfectly capable of putting down +poison.'</p> +<p>'Sidney's capable of anything,' said Midmore with immense +feeling; but once again he held his tongue. They were a queer +community; yet when they had stamped and jingled out to their +horses again, the house felt hugely big and disconcerting.</p> +<p>This may be reckoned the conscious beginning of his double life. +It ran in odd channels that summer--a riding school, for instance, +near Hayes Common and a shooting ground near Wormwood Scrubs. A man +who has been saddle-galled or shoulder-bruised for half the day is +not at his London best of evenings; and when the bills for his +amusements come in he curtails his expenses in other directions. So +a cloud settled on Midmore's name. His London world talked of a +hardening of heart and a tightening of purse-strings which +signified disloyalty to the Cause. One man, a confidant of the old +expressive days, attacked him robustiously and demanded account of +his soul's progress. It was not furnished, for Midmore was +calculating how much it would cost to repave stables so dilapidated +that even the village idiot apologised for putting visitors' horses +into them. The man went away, and served up what he had heard of +the pig-pound episode as a little newspaper sketch, calculated to +annoy. Midmore read it with an eye as practical as a woman's, and +since most of his experiences had been among women, at once sought +out a woman to whom he might tell his sorrow at the disloyalty of +his own familiar friend. She was so sympathetic that he went on to +confide how his bruised heart--she knew all about it--had found +so-lace, with a long O, in another quarter which he indicated +rather carefully in case it might be betrayed to other loyal +friends. As his hints pointed directly towards facile Hampstead, +and as his urgent business was the purchase of a horse from a +dealer, Beckenham way, he felt he had done good work. Later, when +his friend, the scribe, talked to him alluringly of 'secret +gardens' and those so-laces to which every man who follows the +Wider Morality is entitled, Midmore lent him a five-pound note +which he had got back on the price of a ninety-guinea bay gelding. +So true it is, as he read in one of the late Colonel Werf's books, +that 'the young man of the present day would sooner lie under an +imputation against his morals than against his knowledge of +horse-flesh.'</p> +<p>Midmore desired more than he desired anything else at that +moment to ride and, above all, to jump on a ninety-guinea bay +gelding with black points and a slovenly habit of hitting his +fences. He did not wish many people except Mr. Sidney, who very +kindly lent his soft meadow behind the floodgates, to be privy to +the matter, which he rightly foresaw would take him to the autumn. +So he told such friends as hinted at country week-end visits that +he had practically let his newly inherited house. The rent, he +said, was an object to him, for he had lately lost large sums +through ill-considered benevolences. He would name no names, but +they could guess. And they guessed loyally all round the circle of +his acquaintance as they spread the news that explained so +much.</p> +<p>There remained only one couple of his once intimate associates +to pacify. They were deeply sympathetic and utterly loyal, of +course, but as curious as any of the apes whose diet they had +adopted. Midmore met them in a suburban train, coming up to town, +not twenty minutes after he had come off two hours' advanced +tuition (one guinea an hour) over hurdles in a hall. He had, of +course, changed his kit, but his too heavy bridle-hand shook a +little among the newspapers. On the inspiration of the moment, +which is your natural liar's best hold, he told them that he was +condemned to a rest-cure. He would lie in semi-darkness drinking +milk, for weeks and weeks, cut off even from letters. He was +astonished and delighted at the ease with which the usual lie +confounds the unusual intellect. They swallowed it as swiftly as +they recommended him to live on nuts and fruit; but he saw in the +woman's eyes the exact reason she would set forth for his +retirement. After all, she had as much right to express herself as +he purposed to take for himself; and Midmore believed strongly in +the fullest equality of the sexes.</p> +<p>That retirement made one small ripple in the strenuous world. +The lady who had written the twelve-page letter ten months before +sent him another of eight pages, analysing all the motives that +were leading her back to him--should she come?--now that he was ill +and alone. Much might yet be retrieved, she said, out of the waste +of jarring lives and piteous misunderstandings. It needed only a +hand.</p> +<p>But Midmore needed two, next morning very early, for a devil's +diversion, among wet coppices, called 'cubbing.'</p> +<p>'You haven't a bad seat,' said Miss Sperrit through the +morning-mists. 'But you're worrying him.'</p> +<p>'He pulls so,' Midmore grunted.</p> +<p>'Let him alone, then. Look out for the branches,' she shouted, +as they whirled up a splashy ride. Cubs were plentiful. Most of the +hounds attached themselves to a straight-necked youngster of +education who scuttled out of the woods into the open fields +below.</p> +<p>'Hold on!' some one shouted. 'Turn 'em, Midmore. That's your +brute Sidney's land. It's all wire.'</p> +<p>'Oh, Connie, stop!' Mrs. Sperrit shrieked as her daughter +charged at a boundary-hedge.</p> +<p>'Wire be damned! I had it all out a fortnight ago. Come on!' +This was Midmore, buffeting into it a little lower down.</p> +<p>'<i>I</i>knew that!' Connie cried over her shoulder, and she +flitted across the open pasture, humming to herself.</p> +<p>'Oh, of course! If some people have private information, they +can afford to thrust.' This was a snuff-coloured habit into which +Miss Sperrit had cannoned down the ride.</p> +<p>'What! 'Midmore got Sidney to heel? <i>You</i> never did that, +Sperrit.' This was Mr. Fisher, M.F.H., enlarging the breach Midmore +had made.</p> +<p>'No, confound him!' said the father testily. 'Go on, sir! +<i>Injecto ter pulvere</i>--you've kicked half the ditch into my +eye already.'</p> +<p>They killed that cub a little short of the haven his mother had +told him to make for--a two-acre Alsatia of a gorse-patch to which +the M.F.H. had been denied access for the last fifteen seasons. He +expressed his gratitude before all the field and Mr. Sidney, at Mr. +Sidney's farm-house door.</p> +<p>'And if there should be any poultry claims--' he went on.</p> +<p>'There won't be,' said Midmore. 'It's too like cheating a +sucking child, isn't it, Mr. Sidney?'</p> +<p>'You've got me!' was all the reply. 'I be used to bein' put +upon, but you've got me, Mus' Midmore.'</p> +<p>Midmore pointed to a new brick pig-pound built in strict +disregard of the terms of the life-tenant's lease. The gesture told +the tale to the few who did not know, and they shouted.</p> +<p>Such pagan delights as these were followed by pagan sloth of +evenings when men and women elsewhere are at their brightest. But +Midmore preferred to lie out on a yellow silk couch, reading works +of a debasing vulgarity; or, by invitation, to dine with the +Sperrits and savages of their kidney. These did not expect flights +of fancy or phrasing. They lied, except about horses, grudgingly +and of necessity, not for art's sake; and, men and women alike, +they expressed themselves along their chosen lines with the serene +indifference of the larger animals. Then Midmore would go home and +identify them, one by one, out of the natural-history books by Mr. +Surtees, on the table beside the sofa. At first they looked upon +him coolly, but when the tale of the removed wire and the +recaptured gorse had gone the rounds, they accepted him for a +person willing to play their games. True, a faction suspended +judgment for a while, because they shot, and hoped that Midmore +would serve the glorious mammon of pheasant-raising rather than the +unkempt god of fox-hunting. But after he had shown his choice, they +did not ask by what intellectual process he had arrived at it. He +hunted three, sometimes four, times a week, which necessitated not +only one bay gelding (£94: 10s.), but a mannerly +white-stockinged chestnut (£114), and a black mare, rather +long in the back but with a mouth of silk (£150), who so +evidently preferred to carry a lady that it would have been cruel +to have baulked her. Besides, with that handling she could be sold +at a profit. And besides, the hunt was a quiet, intimate, kindly +little hunt, not anxious for strangers, of good report in the +<i>Field</i>, the servant of one M.F.H., given to hospitality, +riding well its own horses, and, with the exception of Midmore, not +novices. But as Miss Sperrit observed, after the M.F.H. had said +some things to him at a gate: 'It <i>is</i> a pity you don't know +as much as your horse, but you will in time. It takes years and +yee-ars. I've been at it for fifteen and I'm only just learning. +But you've made a decent kick-off.'</p> +<p>So he kicked off in wind and wet and mud, wondering quite +sincerely why the bubbling ditches and sucking pastures held him +from day to day, or what so-lace he could find on off days in +chasing grooms and brick-layers round outhouses.</p> +<p>To make sure he up-rooted himself one week-end of heavy +mid-winter rain, and re-entered his lost world in the character of +Galahad fresh from a rest-cure. They all agreed, with an eye over +his shoulder for the next comer, that he was a different man; but +when they asked him for the symptoms of nervous strain, and led him +all through their own, he realised he had lost much of his old +skill in lying. His three months' absence, too, had put him +hopelessly behind the London field. The movements, the allusions, +the slang of the game had changed. The couples had rearranged +themselves or were re-crystallizing in fresh triangles, whereby he +put his foot in it badly. Only one great soul (he who had written +the account of the pig-pound episode) stood untouched by the vast +flux of time, and Midmore lent him another fiver for his integrity. +A woman took him, in the wet forenoon, to a pronouncement on the +Oneness of Impulse in Humanity, which struck him as a polysyllabic +<i>résumé</i> of Mr. Sidney's domestic arrangements, +plus a clarion call to 'shock civilisation into common-sense.'</p> +<p>'And you'll come to tea with me to-morrow?' she asked, after +lunch, nibbling cashew nuts from a saucer. Midmore replied that +there were great arrears of work to overtake when a man had been +put away for so long.</p> +<p>'But you've come back like a giant refreshed.... I hope that +Daphne'--this was the lady of the twelve and the eight-page +letter--'will be with us too. She has misunderstood herself, like +so many of us,' the woman murmured, 'but I think eventually ...' +she flung out her thin little hands. 'However, these are things +that each lonely soul must adjust for itself.'</p> +<p>'Indeed, yes,' said Midmore with a deep sigh. The old tricks +were sprouting in the old atmosphere like mushrooms in a dung-pit. +He passed into an abrupt reverie, shook his head, as though stung +by tumultuous memories, and departed without any ceremony of +farewell to--catch a mid-afternoon express where a man meets +associates who talk horse, and weather as it affects the horse, all +the way down. What worried him most was that he had missed a day +with the hounds.</p> +<p>He met Rhoda's keen old eyes without flinching; and the +drawing-room looked very comfortable that wet evening at tea. After +all, his visit to town had not been wholly a failure. He had burned +quite a bushel of letters at his flat. A flat--here he reached +mechanically towards the worn volumes near the sofa--a flat was a +consuming animal. As for Daphne ... he opened at random on the +words: 'His lordship then did as desired and disclosed a +<i>tableau</i> of considerable strength and variety.' Midmore +reflected: 'And I used to think.... But she wasn't.... We were all +babblers and skirters together.... I didn't babble much--thank +goodness--but I skirted.' He turned the pages backward for more +<i>Sortes Surteesianae</i>, and read: 'When at length they rose to +go to bed it struck each man as he followed his neighbour upstairs, +that the man before him walked very crookedly.' He laughed aloud at +the fire.</p> +<p>'What about to-morrow?' Rhoda asked, entering with garments over +her shoulder. 'It's never stopped raining since you left. You'll be +plastered out of sight an' all in five minutes. You'd better wear +your next best, 'adn't you? I'm afraid they've shrank. 'Adn't you +best try 'em on?'</p> +<p>'Here?' said Midmore.</p> +<p>''Suit yourself. I bathed you when you wasn't larger than a leg +o' lamb,' said the ex-ladies'-maid.</p> +<p>'Rhoda, one of these days I shall get a valet, and a married +butler.'</p> +<p>'There's many a true word spoke in jest. But nobody's huntin' +to-morrow.'</p> +<p>'Why? Have they cancelled the meet?'</p> +<p>'They say it only means slipping and over-reaching in the mud, +and they all 'ad enough of that to-day. Charlie told me so just +now.'</p> +<p>'Oh!' It seemed that the word of Mr. Sperrit's confidential +clerk had weight.</p> +<p>'Charlie came down to help Mr. Sidney lift the gates,' Rhoda +continued.</p> +<p>'The floodgates? They are perfectly easy to handle now. I've put +in a wheel and a winch.'</p> +<p>'When the brook's really up they must be took clean out on +account of the rubbish blockin' 'em. That's why Charlie came +down.'</p> +<p>Midmore grunted impatiently. 'Everybody has talked to me about +that brook ever since I came here. It's never done anything +yet.'</p> +<p>'This 'as been a dry summer. If you care to look now, sir, I'll +get you a lantern.'</p> +<p>She paddled out with him into a large wet night. Half-way down +the lawn her light was reflected on shallow brown water, pricked +through with grass blades at the edges. Beyond that light, the +brook was strangling and kicking among hedges and tree-trunks.</p> +<p>'What on earth will happen to the big rose-bed?' was Midmore's +first word.</p> +<p>'It generally 'as to be restocked after a flood. Ah!' she raised +her lantern. 'There's two garden-seats knockin' against the +sun-dial. Now, that won't do the roses any good.'</p> +<p>'This is too absurd. There ought to be some decently thought-out +system--for--for dealing with this sort of thing.' He peered into +the rushing gloom. There seemed to be no end to the moisture and +the racket. In town he had noticed nothing.</p> +<p>'It can't be 'elped,' said Rhoda. 'It's just what it does do +once in just so often. We'd better go back.'</p> +<p>All earth under foot was sliding in a thousand liquid noises +towards the hoarse brook. Somebody wailed from the house: ''Fraid +o' the water! Come 'ere! 'Fraid o' the water!'</p> +<p>'That's Jimmy. Wet always takes 'im that way,' she explained. +The idiot charged into them, shaking with terror.</p> +<p>'Brave Jimmy! How brave of Jimmy! Come into the hall. What Jimmy +got now?' she crooned. It was a sodden note which ran: 'Dear +Rhoda--Mr. Lotten, with whom I rode home this afternoon, told me +that if this wet keeps up, he's afraid the fish-pond he built last +year, where Coxen's old mill-dam was, will go, as the dam did once +before, he says. If it does it's bound to come down the brook. It +may be all right, but perhaps you had better look out. C.S.'</p> +<p>'If Coxen's dam goes, that means.... I'll 'ave the drawing-room +carpet up at once to be on the safe side. The claw-'ammer is in the +libery.'</p> +<p>'Wait a minute. Sidney's gates are out, you said?'</p> +<p>'Both. He'll need it if Coxen's pond goes.... I've seen it +once.'</p> +<p>'I'll just slip down and have a look at Sidney. Light the +lantern again, please, Rhoda.'</p> +<p>'You won't get <i>him</i> to stir. He's been there since he was +born. But <i>she</i> don't know anything. I'll fetch your +waterproof and some top-boots.'</p> +<p>''Fraid o' the water! 'Fraid o' the water!' Jimmy sobbed, +pressed against a corner of the hall, his hands to his eyes.</p> +<p>'All right, Jimmy. Jimmy can help play with the carpet,' Rhoda +answered, as Midmore went forth into the darkness and the roarings +all round. He had never seen such an utterly unregulated state of +affairs. There was another lantern reflected on the streaming +drive.</p> +<p>'Hi! Rhoda! Did you get my note? I came down to make sure. I +thought, afterwards, Jimmy might funk the water!'</p> +<p>'It's me--Miss Sperrit,' Midmore cried. 'Yes, we got it, +thanks.'</p> +<p>'You're back, then. Oh, good!... Is it bad down with you?'</p> +<p>'I'm going to Sidney's to have a look.'</p> +<p>'You won't get <i>him</i> out. 'Lucky I met Bob Lotten. I told +him he hadn't any business impounding water for his idiotic trout +without rebuilding the dam.'</p> +<p>'How far up is it? I've only been there once.'</p> +<p>'Not more than four miles as the water will come. He says he's +opened all the sluices.'</p> +<p>She had turned and fallen into step beside him, her hooded head +bowed against the thinning rain. As usual she was humming to +herself.</p> +<p>'Why on earth did you come out in this weather?' Midmore +asked.</p> +<p>'It was worse when you were in town. The rain's taking off now. +If it wasn't for that pond, I wouldn't worry so much. There's +Sidney's bell. Come on!' She broke into a run. A cracked bell was +jangling feebly down the valley.</p> +<p>'Keep on the road!' Midmore shouted. The ditches were snorting +bank-full on either side, and towards the brook-side the fields +were afloat and beginning to move in the darkness.</p> +<p>'Catch me going off it! There's his light burning all right.' +She halted undistressed at a little rise. 'But the flood's in the +orchard. Look!' She swung her lantern to show a front rank of old +apple-trees reflected in still, out-lying waters beyond the +half-drowned hedge. They could hear above the thud-thud of the +gorged floodgates, shrieks in two keys as monotonous as a +steam-organ.</p> +<p>'The high one's the pig.' Miss Sperrit laughed.</p> +<p>'All right! I'll get <i>her</i> out. You stay where you are, and +I'll see you home afterwards.'</p> +<p>'But the water's only just over the road,' she objected.</p> +<p>'Never mind. Don't you move. Promise?'</p> +<p>'All right. You take my stick, then, and feel for holes in case +anything's washed out anywhere. This <i>is</i> a lark!'</p> +<p>Midmore took it, and stepped into the water that moved +sluggishly as yet across the farm road which ran to Sidney's front +door from the raised and metalled public road. It was half way up +to his knees when he knocked. As he looked back Miss Sperrit's +lantern seemed to float in mid-ocean.</p> +<p>'You can't come in or the water'll come with you. I've bunged up +all the cracks,' Mr. Sidney shouted from within. 'Who be ye?'</p> +<p>'Take me out! Take me out!' the woman shrieked, and the pig from +his sty behind the house urgently seconded the motion.</p> +<p>'I'm Midmore! Coxen's old mill-dam is likely to go, they say. +Come out!'</p> +<p>'I told 'em it would when they made a fish-pond of it. 'Twasn't +ever puddled proper. But it's a middlin' wide valley. She's got +room to spread.... Keep still, or I'll take and duck you in the +cellar!... You go 'ome, Mus' Midmore, an' take the law o' Mus' +Lotten soon's you've changed your socks.'</p> +<p>'Confound you, aren't you coming out?'</p> +<p>'To catch my death o' cold? I'm all right where I be. I've seen +it before. But you can take <i>her</i>. She's no sort o' use or +sense.... Climb out through the window. Didn't I tell you I'd +plugged the door-cracks, you fool's daughter?' The parlour window +opened, and the woman flung herself into Midmore's arms, nearly +knocking him down. Mr. Sidney leaned out of the window, pipe in +mouth.</p> +<p>'Take her 'ome,' he said, and added oracularly:</p> +<blockquote>'Two women in one house,<br> +Two cats an' one mouse,<br> +Two dogs an' one bone--<br> +Which I will leave alone.</blockquote> +<p>I've seen it before.' Then he shut and fastened the window.</p> +<p>'A trap! A trap! You had ought to have brought a trap for me. +I'll be drowned in this wet,' the woman cried.</p> +<p>'Hold up! You can't be any wetter than you are. Come along!' +Midmore did not at all like the feel of the water over his +boot-tops.</p> +<p>'Hooray! Come along!' Miss Sperrit's lantern, not fifty yards +away, waved cheerily.</p> +<p>The woman threshed towards it like a panic-stricken goose, fell +on her knees, was jerked up again by Midmore, and pushed on till +she collapsed at Miss Sperrit's feet.</p> +<p>'But you won't get bronchitis if you go straight to Mr. +Midmore's house,' said the unsympathetic maiden.</p> +<p>'O Gawd! O Gawd! I wish our 'eavenly Father 'ud forgive me my +sins an' call me 'ome,' the woman sobbed. 'But I won't go to +<i>'is</i> 'ouse! I won't.'</p> +<p>'All right, then. Stay here. Now, if we run,' Miss Sperrit +whispered to Midmore, 'she'll follow us. Not too fast!'</p> +<p>They set off at a considerable trot, and the woman lumbered +behind them, bellowing, till they met a third lantern--Rhoda +holding Jimmy's hand. She had got the carpet up, she said, and was +escorting Jimmy past the water that he dreaded.</p> +<p>'That's all right,' Miss Sperrit pronounced. 'Take Mrs. Sidney +back with you, Rhoda, and put her to bed. I'll take Jimmy with me. +You aren't afraid of the water now, are you, Jimmy?'</p> +<p>'Not afraid of anything now.' Jimmy reached for her hand. 'But +get away from the water quick.'</p> +<p>'I'm coming with you,' Midmore interrupted.</p> +<p>'You most certainly are not. You're drenched. She threw you +twice. Go home and change. You may have to be out again all night. +It's only half-past seven now. I'm perfectly safe.' She flung +herself lightly over a stile, and hurried uphill by the foot-path, +out of reach of all but the boasts of the flood below.</p> +<p>Rhoda, dead silent, herded Mrs. Sidney to the house.</p> +<p>'You'll find your things laid out on the bed,' she said to +Midmore as he came up. I'll attend to--to this. <i>She's</i> got +nothing to cry for.'</p> +<p>Midmore raced into dry kit, and raced uphill to be rewarded by +the sight of the lantern just turning into the Sperrits' gate. He +came back by way of Sidney's farm, where he saw the light twinkling +across three acres of shining water, for the rain had ceased and +the clouds were stripping overhead, though the brook was noisier +than ever. Now there was only that doubtful mill-pond to look +after--that and his swirling world abandoned to himself alone.</p> +<p>'We shall have to sit up for it,' said Rhoda after dinner. And +as the drawing-room commanded the best view of the rising flood, +they watched it from there for a long time, while all the clocks of +the house bore them company.</p> +<p>''Tisn't the water, it's the mud on the skirting-board after it +goes down that I mind,' Rhoda whispered. 'The last time Coxen's +mill broke, I remember it came up to the second--no, third--step o' +Mr. Sidney's stairs.'</p> +<p>'What did Sidney do about it?'</p> +<p>'He made a notch on the step. 'E said it was a record. Just like +'im.'</p> +<p>'It's up to the drive now,' said Midmore after another long +wait. 'And the rain stopped before eight, you know.'</p> +<p>'Then Coxen's dam <i>'as</i> broke, and that's the first of the +flood-water.' She stared out beside him. The water was rising in +sudden pulses--an inch or two at a time, with great sweeps and +lagoons and a sudden increase of the brook's proper thunder.</p> +<p>'You can't stand all the time. Take a chair,' Midmore said +presently.</p> +<p>Rhoda looked back into the bare room. 'The carpet bein' up +<i>does</i> make a difference. Thank you, sir, I <i>will</i> 'ave a +set-down.'</p> +<p>''Right over the drive now,' said Midmore. He opened the window +and leaned out. 'Is that wind up the valley, Rhoda?'</p> +<p>'No, that's <i>it</i>! But I've seen it before.'</p> +<p>There was not so much a roar as the purposeful drive of a tide +across a jagged reef, which put down every other sound for twenty +minutes. A wide sheet of water hurried up to the little terrace on +which the house stood, pushed round either corner, rose again and +stretched, as it were, yawning beneath the moonlight, joined other +sheets waiting for them in unsuspected hollows, and lay out all in +one. A puff of wind followed.</p> +<p>'It's right up to the wall now. I can touch it with my finger.' +Midmore bent over the window-sill.</p> +<p>'I can 'ear it in the cellars,' said Rhoda dolefully. 'Well, +we've done what we can! I think I'll 'ave a look.' She left the +room and was absent half an hour or more, during which time he saw +a full-grown tree hauling itself across the lawn by its naked +roots. Then a hurdle knocked against the wall, caught on an iron +foot-scraper just outside, and made a square-headed ripple. The +cascade through the cellar-windows diminished.</p> +<p>'It's dropping,' Rhoda cried, as she returned. 'It's only +tricklin' into my cellars now.'</p> +<p>'Wait a minute. I believe--I believe I can see the scraper on +the edge of the drive just showing!'</p> +<p>In another ten minutes the drive itself roughened and became +gravel again, tilting all its water towards the shrubbery.</p> +<p>'The pond's gone past,' Rhoda announced. 'We shall only 'ave the +common flood to contend with now. You'd better go to bed.'</p> +<p>'I ought to go down and have another look at Sidney before +daylight.'</p> +<p>'No need. You can see 'is light burnin' from all the upstairs +windows.'</p> +<p>'By the way. I forgot about <i>her</i>. Where've you put +her?'</p> +<p>'In my bed.' Rhoda's tone was ice. 'I wasn't going to undo a +room for <i>that</i> stuff.'</p> +<p>'But it--it couldn't be helped,' said Midmore. 'She was half +drowned. One mustn't be narrow-minded, Rhoda, even if her position +isn't quite--er--regular.'</p> +<p>'Pfff! I wasn't worryin' about that.' She leaned forward to the +window. 'There's the edge of the lawn showin' now. It falls as fast +as it rises. Dearie'--the change of tone made Midmore jump--'didn't +you know that I was 'is first? <i>That's</i> what makes it so hard +to bear.' Midmore looked at the long lizard-like back and had no +words.</p> +<p>She went on, still talking through the black window-pane:</p> +<p>'Your pore dear auntie was very kind about it. She said she'd +make all allowances for one, but no more. Never any more.... Then, +you didn't know 'oo Charlie was all this time?'</p> +<p>'Your nephew, I always thought.'</p> +<p>'Well, well,' she spoke pityingly. 'Everybody's business being +nobody's business, I suppose no one thought to tell you. But +Charlie made 'is own way for 'imself from the beginnin'!... But +<i>her</i> upstairs, she never produced anything. Just an +'ousekeeper, as you might say. 'Turned over an' went to sleep +straight off. She 'ad the impudence to ask me for 'ot +sherry-gruel.'</p> +<p>'Did you give it to her,' said Midmore.</p> +<p>'Me? Your sherry? No!'</p> +<p>The memory of Sidney's outrageous rhyme at the window, and +Charlie's long nose (he thought it looked interested at the time) +as he passed the copies of Mrs. Werf's last four wills, overcame +Midmore without warning.</p> +<p>'This damp is givin' you a cold,' said Rhoda, rising. 'There you +go again! Sneezin's a sure sign of it. Better go to bed. You can't +do any thin' excep''--she stood rigid, with crossed arms--'about +me.'</p> +<p>'Well. What about you?' Midmore stuffed the handkerchief into +his pocket.</p> +<p>'Now you know about it, what are you goin' to do--sir?'</p> +<p>She had the answer on her lean cheek before the sentence was +finished.</p> +<p>'Go and see if you can get us something to eat, Rhoda. And +beer.'</p> +<p>'I expec' the larder'll be in a swim,' she replied, 'but old +bottled stuff don't take any harm from wet.' She returned with a +tray, all in order, and they ate and drank together, and took +observations of the falling flood till dawn opened its bleared eyes +on the wreck of what had been a fair garden. Midmore, cold and +annoyed, found himself humming:</p> +<blockquote>'That flood strewed wrecks upon the grass,<br> +That ebb swept out the flocks to sea.</blockquote> +<p>There isn't a rose left, Rhoda!</p> +<blockquote>An awesome ebb and flow it was<br> +To many more than mine and me.<br> +But each will mourn his ...</blockquote> +<p>It'll cost me a hundred.'</p> +<p>'Now we know the worst,' said Rhoda, 'we can go to bed. I'll lay +on the kitchen sofa. His light's burnin' still.'</p> +<p>'And <i>she</i>?'</p> +<p>'Dirty old cat! You ought to 'ear 'er snore!'</p> +<p>At ten o'clock in the morning, after a maddening hour in his own +garden on the edge of the retreating brook, Midmore went off to +confront more damage at Sidney's. The first thing that met him was +the pig, snowy white, for the water had washed him out of his new +sty, calling on high heaven for breakfast. The front door had been +forced open, and the flood had registered its own height in a brown +dado on the walls. Midmore chased the pig out and called up the +stairs.</p> +<p>'I be abed o' course. Which step 'as she rose to?' Sidney cried +from above. 'The fourth? Then it's beat all records. Come up.'</p> +<p>'Are you ill?' Midmore asked as he entered the room. The red +eyelids blinked cheerfully. Mr. Sidney, beneath a sumptuous +patch-work quilt, was smoking.</p> +<p>'Nah! I'm only thankin' God I ain't my own landlord. Take that +cheer. What's she done?'</p> +<p>'It hasn't gone down enough for me to make sure.'</p> +<p>'Them floodgates o' yourn'll be middlin' far down the brook by +now; an' your rose-garden have gone after 'em. I saved my chickens, +though. You'd better get Mus' Sperrit to take the law o' Lotten an' +'is fish-pond.'</p> +<p>'No, thanks. I've trouble enough without that.'</p> +<p>'Hev ye?' Mr. Sidney grinned. 'How did ye make out with those +two women o' mine last night? I lay they fought.'</p> +<p>'You infernal old scoundrel!' Midmore laughed.</p> +<p>'I be--an' then again I bain't,' was the placid answer. 'But, +Rhoda, <i>she</i> wouldn't ha' left me last night. Fire or flood, +she wouldn't.'</p> +<p>'Why didn't you ever marry her?' Midmore asked.</p> +<p>'Waste of good money. She was willin' without.'</p> +<p>There was a step on the gritty mud below, and a voice humming. +Midmore rose quickly saying: 'Well, I suppose you're all right +now.'</p> +<p>'I be. I ain't a landlord, nor I ain't young--nor anxious. Oh, +Mus' Midmore! Would it make any odds about her thirty pounds comin' +regular if I married her? Charlie said maybe 'twould.'</p> +<p>'Did he?' Midmore turned at the door. 'And what did Jimmy say +about it?'</p> +<p>'Jimmy?' Mr. Sidney chuckled as the joke took him. 'Oh, +<i>he's</i> none o' mine. He's Charlie's look-out.'</p> +<p>Midmore slammed the door and ran downstairs.</p> +<p>'Well, this is a--sweet--mess,' said Miss Sperrit in shortest +skirts and heaviest riding-boots. 'I had to come down and have a +look at it. "The old mayor climbed the belfry tower." 'Been up all +night nursing your family?'</p> +<p>'Nearly that! Isn't it cheerful?' He pointed through the door to +the stairs with small twig-drift on the last three treads.</p> +<p>'It's a record, though,' said she, and hummed to herself:</p> +<blockquote>'That flood strewed wrecks upon the grass,<br> +That ebb swept out the flocks to sea.'</blockquote> +<p>'You're always singing that, aren't you?' Midmore said suddenly +as she passed into the parlour where slimy chairs had been stranded +at all angles.</p> +<p>'Am I? Now I come to think of it I believe I do. They say I +always hum when I ride. Have you noticed it?'</p> +<p>'Of course I have. I notice every--'</p> +<p>'Oh,' she went on hurriedly. 'We had it for the village cantata +last winter--"The Brides of Enderby."'</p> +<p>'No! "High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire."' For some reason +Midmore spoke sharply.</p> +<p>'Just like that.' She pointed to the befouled walls. 'I say.... +Let's get this furniture a little straight.... You know it +too?'</p> +<p>'Every word, since you sang it of course.'</p> +<p>'When?'</p> +<p>'The first night I ever came down. You rode past the +drawing-room window in the dark singing it--"And sweeter +woman--"'</p> +<p>'I thought the house was empty then. Your aunt always let us use +that short cut. Ha-hadn't we better get this out into the passage? +It'll all have to come out anyhow. You take the other side.' They +began to lift a heavyish table. Their words came jerkily between +gasps and their faces were as white as--a newly washed and very +hungry pig.</p> +<p>'Look out!' Midmore shouted. His legs were whirled from under +him, as the table, grunting madly, careened and knocked the girl +out of sight.</p> +<p>The wild boar of Asia could not have cut down a couple more +scientifically, but this little pig lacked his ancestor's nerve and +fled shrieking over their bodies.</p> +<p>'Are you hurt, darling?' was Midmore's first word, and 'No--I'm +only winded--dear,' was Miss Sperrit's, as he lifted her out of her +corner, her hat over one eye and her right cheek a smear of +mud.</p> +<p>They fed him a little later on some chicken-feed that they found +in Sidney's quiet barn, a pail of buttermilk out of the dairy, and +a quantity of onions from a shelf in the back-kitchen.</p> +<p>'Seed-onions, most likely,' said Connie. 'You'll hear about +this.'</p> +<p>'What does it matter? They ought to have been gilded. We must +buy him.'</p> +<p>'And keep him as long as he lives,' she agreed. 'But I think I +ought to go home now. You see, when I came out I didn't expect ... +Did you?'</p> +<p>'No! Yes.... It had to come.... But if any one had told me an +hour ago!... Sidney's unspeakable parlour--and the mud on the +carpet.'</p> +<p>'Oh, I say! Is my cheek clean now?'</p> +<p>'Not quite. Lend me your hanky again a minute, darling.... What +a purler you came!'</p> +<p>'You can't talk. 'Remember when your chin hit that table and you +said "blast"! I was just going to laugh.'</p> +<p>'You didn't laugh when I picked you up. You were going +"oo-oo-oo" like a little owl.'</p> +<p>'My dear child--'</p> +<p>'Say that again!'</p> +<p>'My dear child. (Do you really like it? I keep it for my best +friends.) My <i>dee-ar</i> child, I thought I was going to be sick +there and then. He knocked every ounce of wind out of me--the +angel! But I must really go.'</p> +<p>They set off together, very careful not to join hands or take +arms.</p> +<p>'Not across the fields,' said Midmore at the stile. 'Come round +by--by your own place.'</p> +<p>She flushed indignantly.</p> +<p>'It will be yours in a little time,' he went on, shaken with his +own audacity.</p> +<p>'Not so much of your little times, if you please!' She shied +like a colt across the road; then instantly, like a colt, her eyes +lit with new curiosity as she came in sight of the drive-gates.</p> +<p>'And not quite so much of your airs and graces, Madam,' Midmore +returned, 'or I won't let you use our drive as a short cut any +more.'</p> +<p>'Oh, I'll be good. I'll be good.' Her voice changed suddenly. 'I +swear I'll try to be good, dear. I'm not much of a thing at the +best. What made <i>you</i>....'</p> +<p>'I'm worse--worse! Miles and oceans worse. But what does it +matter now?'</p> +<p>They halted beside the gate-pillars.</p> +<p>'I see!' she said, looking up the sodden carriage sweep to the +front door porch where Rhoda was slapping a wet mat to and fro. +'<i>I</i> see.... Now, I really must go home. No! Don't you come. I +must speak to Mother first all by myself.'</p> +<p>He watched her up the hill till she was out of sight.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page379"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>THE FLOODS</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The rain it rains without a stay</p> +<p class="i7">In the hills above us, in the hills;</p> +<p class="i6">And presently the floods break way</p> +<p class="i7">Whose strength is in the hills.</p> +<p class="i6">The trees they suck from every cloud,</p> +<p class="i6">The valley brooks they roar aloud--</p> +<p class="i6">Bank-high for the lowlands, lowlands,</p> +<p class="i7">Lowlands under the hills!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The first wood down is sere and small,</p> +<p class="i7">From the hills, the brishings off the hills;</p> +<p class="i6">And then come by the bats and all</p> +<p class="i7">We cut last year in the hills;</p> +<p class="i6">And then the roots we tried to cleave</p> +<p class="i6">But found too tough and had to leave--</p> +<p class="i6">Polting through the lowlands, lowlands,</p> +<p class="i7">Lowlands under the hills!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The eye shall look, the ear shall hark</p> +<p class="i7">To the hills, the doings in the hills,</p> +<p class="i6">And rivers mating in the dark</p> +<p class="i7">With tokens from the hills.</p> +<p class="i6">Now what is weak will surely go,</p> +<p class="i6">And what is strong must prove it so.</p> +<p class="i6">Stand fast in the lowlands, lowlands,</p> +<p class="i7">Lowlands under the hills!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The floods they shall not be afraid--</p> +<p class="i7">Nor the hills above 'em, nor the hills--</p> +<p class="i6">Of any fence which man has made</p> +<p class="i7">Betwixt him and the hills.</p> +<p class="i6">The waters shall not reckon twice</p> +<p class="i6">For any work of man's device,</p> +<p class="i6">But bid it down to the lowlands, lowlands,</p> +<p class="i7">Lowlands under the hills!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The floods shall sweep corruption clean--</p> +<p class="i7">By the hills, the blessing of the hills--</p> +<p class="i6">That more the meadows may be green</p> +<p class="i7">New-amended from the hills.</p> +<p class="i6">The crops and cattle shall increase,</p> +<p class="i6">Nor little children shall not cease--</p> +<p class="i6">Go--plough the lowlands, lowlands,</p> +<p class="i7">Lowlands under the hills!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page381"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7"><b>THE FABULISTS</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">When all the world would have a matter hid,</p> +<p class="i4">Since Truth is seldom friend to any crowd,</p> +<p class="i3">Men write in fable, as old Æsop did,</p> +<p class="i4">Jesting at that which none will name aloud.</p> +<p class="i3">And this they needs must do, or it will fall</p> +<p class="i3">Unless they please they are not heard at all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">When desperate Folly daily laboureth</p> +<p class="i4">To work confusion upon all we have,</p> +<p class="i3">When diligent Sloth demandeth Freedom's death,</p> +<p class="i4">And banded Fear commandeth Honour's grave--</p> +<p class="i3">Even in that certain hour before the fall</p> +<p class="i3">Unless men please they are not heard at all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">Needs must all please, yet some not all for need</p> +<p class="i4">Needs must all toil, yet some not all for gain,</p> +<p class="i3">But that men taking pleasure may take heed,</p> +<p class="i4">Whom present toil shall snatch from later pain.</p> +<p class="i3">Thus some have toiled but their reward was small</p> +<p class="i3">Since, though they pleased, they were not heard at +all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">This was the lock that lay upon our lips,</p> +<p class="i4">This was the yoke that we have undergone,</p> +<p class="i3">Denying us all pleasant fellowships</p> +<p class="i4">As in our time and generation.</p> +<p class="i3">Our pleasures unpursued age past recall.</p> +<p class="i3">And for our pains--we are not heard at all.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3">What man hears aught except the groaning guns?</p> +<p class="i4">What man heeds aught save what each instant +brings?</p> +<p class="i3">When each man's life all imaged life outruns,</p> +<p class="i4">What man shall pleasure in imaginings?</p> +<p class="i3">So it hath fallen, as it was bound to fall,</p> +<p class="i4">We are not, nor we were not, heard at all.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page383"></a> +<h2>The Vortex</h2> +<h3>(August 1914)</h3> +<center>'Thy Lord spoke by inspiration to the Bee.'</center> +<p class="loc">AL KORAN.</p> +<br> +<p>I have, to my grief and loss, suppressed several notable stories +of my friend, the Hon. A.M. Penfentenyou<a name= +"FNanchor8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8">[8]</a>, once Minister of +Woods and Waysides in De Thouar's first administration; later, +Premier in all but name of one of Our great and growing Dominions; +and now, as always, the idol of his own Province, which is two and +one-half the size of England.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor8">[8]</a> +See 'The Puzzler,' <i>Actions and Reactions</i>.</blockquote> +<p>For this reason I hold myself at liberty to deal with some +portion of the truth concerning Penfentenyou's latest visit to Our +shores. He arrived at my house by car, on a hot summer day, in a +white waistcoat and spats, sweeping black frock-coat and glistening +top-hat--a little rounded, perhaps, at the edges, but agile as ever +in mind and body.</p> +<p>'What is the trouble now?' I asked, for the last time we had +met, Penfentenyou was floating a three-million pound loan for his +beloved but unscrupulous Province, and I did not wish to entertain +any more of his financial friends.</p> +<p>'We,' Penfentenyou replied ambassadorially, 'have come to have a +Voice in Your Councils. By the way, the Voice is coming down on the +evening train with my Agent-General. I thought you wouldn't mind if +I invited 'em. You know We're going to share Your burdens +henceforward. You'd better get into training.'</p> +<p>'Certainly,' I replied. 'What's the Voice like?'</p> +<p>'He's in earnest,' said Penfentenyou. 'He's got It, and he's got +It bad. He'll give It to you,' he said.</p> +<p>'What's his name?'</p> +<p>'We call him all sorts of names, but I think you'd better call +him Mr. Lingnam. You won't have to do it more than once.'</p> +<p>'What's he suffering from?'</p> +<p>'The Empire. He's pretty nearly cured us all of Imperialism at +home. P'raps he'll cure you.'</p> +<p>'Very good. What am I to do with him?'</p> +<p>'Don't you worry,' said Penfentenyou. 'He'll do it.'</p> +<p>And when Mr. Lingnam appeared half-an-hour later with the +Agent-General for Penfentenyou's Dominion, he did just that.</p> +<p>He advanced across the lawn eloquent as all the tides. He said +he had been observing to the Agent-General that it was both +politically immoral and strategically unsound that forty-four +million people should bear the entire weight of the defences of Our +mighty Empire, but, as he had observed (here the Agent-General +evaporated), we stood now upon the threshold of a new era in which +the self-governing <i>and</i> self-respecting (bis) Dominions would +rightly and righteously, as co-partners in Empery, shoulder their +share of any burden which the Pan-Imperial Council of the Future +should allot. The Agent-General was already arranging for drinks +with Penfentenyou at the other end of the garden. Mr. Lingnam swept +me on to the most remote bench and settled to his theme.</p> +<p>We dined at eight. At nine Mr. Lingnam was only drawing abreast +of things Imperial. At ten the Agent-General, who earns his salary, +was shamelessly dozing on the sofa. At eleven he and Penfentenyou +went to bed. At midnight Mr. Lingnam brought down his big-bellied +despatch box with the newspaper clippings and set to federating the +Empire in earnest. I remember that he had three alternative plans. +As a dealer in words, I plumped for the resonant +third--'Reciprocally co-ordinated Senatorial Hegemony'--which he +then elaborated in detail for three-quarters of an hour. At +half-past one he urged me to have faith and to remember that +nothing mattered except the Idea. Then he retired to his room, +accompanied by one glass of cold water, and I went into the +dawn-lit garden and prayed to any Power that might be off duty for +the blood of Mr. Lingnam, Penfentenyou, and the Agent-General.</p> +<p>To me, as I have often observed elsewhere, the hour of earliest +dawn is fortunate, and the wind that runs before it has ever been +my most comfortable counsellor.</p> +<p>'Wait!' it said, all among the night's expectant rosebuds. +'To-morrow is also a day. Wait upon the Event!'</p> +<p>I went to bed so at peace with God and Man and Guest that when I +waked I visited Mr. Lingnam in pyjamas, and he talked to me +Pan-Imperially for half-an-hour before his bath. Later, the +Agent-General said he had letters to write, and Penfentenyou +invented a Cabinet crisis in his adored Dominion which would keep +him busy with codes and cables all the forenoon. But I said firmly, +'Mr. Lingnam wishes to see a little of the country round here. You +are coming with us in your own car.'</p> +<p>'It's a hired one,' Penfentenyou objected.</p> +<p>'Yes. Paid for by me as a taxpayer,' I replied.</p> +<p>'And yours has a top, and the weather looks thundery,' said the +Agent-General. 'Ours hasn't a wind-screen. Even our goggles were +hired.'</p> +<p>'I'll lend you goggles,' I said. 'My car is under repairs.'</p> +<p>The hireling who had looked to be returned to London spat and +growled on the drive. She was an open car, capable of some eighteen +miles on the flat, with tetanic gears and a perpetual palsy.</p> +<p>'It won't make the least difference,' sighed the Agent-General. +'He'll only raise his voice. He did it all the way coming +down.'</p> +<p>'I say,' said Penfentenyou suspiciously, 'what are you doing all +this <i>for</i>?'</p> +<p>'Love of the Empire,' I answered, as Mr. Lingnam tripped up in +dust-coat and binoculars. 'Now, Mr. Lingnam will tell us exactly +what he wants to see. He probably knows more about England than the +rest of us put together.'</p> +<p>'I read it up yesterday,' said Mr. Lingnam simply. While we +stowed the lunch-basket (one can never make too sure with a hired +car) he outlined a very pretty and instructive little day's +run.</p> +<p>'You'll drive, of course?' said Penfentenyou to him. 'It's the +only thing you know anything about.'</p> +<p>This astonished me, for your greater Federationists are rarely +mechanicians, but Mr. Lingnam said he would prefer to be inside for +the present and enjoy our conversation.</p> +<p>Well settled on the back seat, he did not once lift his eyes to +the mellow landscape around him, or throw a word at the life of the +English road which to me is one renewed and unreasoned orgy of +delight. The mustard-coloured scouts of the Automobile Association; +their natural enemies, the unjust police; our natural enemies, the +deliberate market-day cattle, broadside-on at all corners, the +bicycling butcher-boy a furlong behind; road-engines that pulled +giddy-go-rounds, rifle galleries, and swings, and sucked snortingly +from wayside ponds in defiance of the notice-board; +traction-engines, their trailers piled high with road metal; +uniformed village nurses, one per seven statute miles, flitting by +on their wheels; governess-carts full of pink children jogging +unconcernedly past roaring, brazen touring-cars; the wayside rector +with virgins in attendance, their faces screwed up against our +dust; motor-bicycles of every shape charging down at every angle; +red flags of rifle-ranges; detachments of dusty-putteed +Territorials; coveys of flagrant children playing in mid-street, +and the wise, educated English dog safe and quite silent on the +pavement if his fool-mistress would but cease from trying to save +him, passed and repassed us in sunlit or shaded settings. But Mr. +Lingnam only talked. He talked--we all sat together behind so that +we could not escape him--and he talked above the worn gears and a +certain maddening swish of one badly patched tire--<i>and</i> he +talked of the Federation of the Empire against all conceivable +dangers except himself. Yet I was neither brutally rude like +Penfentenyou, nor swooningly bored like the Agent-General. I +remembered a certain Joseph Finsbury who delighted the Tregonwell +Arms on the borders of the New Forest with nine'--it should have +been ten--'versions of a single income of two hundred pounds' +placing the imaginary person in--but I could not recall the list of +towns further than 'London, Paris, Bagdad, and Spitsbergen.' This +last I must have murmured aloud, for the Agent-General suddenly +became human and went on: 'Bussorah, Heligoland, and the Scilly +Islands--'</p> +<p>'What?' growled Penfentenyou.</p> +<p>'Nothing,' said the Agent-General, squeezing my hand +affectionately. 'Only we have just found out that we are +brothers.'</p> +<p>'Exactly,' said Mr. Lingnam. 'That's what I've been trying to +lead up to. We're <i>all</i> brothers. D'you realise that fifteen +years ago such a conversation as we're having would have been +unthinkable? The Empire wouldn't have been ripe for it. To go back, +even ten years--'</p> +<p>'I've got it,' cried the Agent-General. '"Brighton, Cincinnati, +and Nijni-Novgorod!" God bless R.L.S.! Go on, Uncle Joseph. I can +endure much now.'</p> +<p>Mr. Lingnam went on like our shandrydan, slowly and loudly. He +admitted that a man obsessed with a Central Idea--and, after all, +the only thing that mattered was the Idea--might become a bore, but +the World's Work, he pointed out, had been done by bores. So he +laid his bones down to that work till we abandoned ourselves to the +passage of time and the Mercy of Allah, Who Alone closes the Mouths +of His Prophets. And we wasted more than fifty miles of summer's +vivid own England upon him the while.</p> +<p>About two o'clock we topped Sumtner Rising and looked down on +the village of Sumtner Barton, which lies just across a single +railway line, spanned by a red brick bridge. The thick, thunderous +June airs brought us gusts of melody from a giddy-go-round +steam-organ in full blast near the pond on the village green. +Drums, too, thumped and banners waved and regalia flashed at the +far end of the broad village street. Mr. Lingnam asked why.</p> +<p>'Nothing Imperial, I'm afraid. It looks like a Foresters' +Fête--one of our big Mutual Benefit Societies,' I +explained.</p> +<p>'The Idea only needs to be co-ordinated to Imperial scale--' he +began.</p> +<p>'But it means that the pub. will be crowded,' I went on.</p> +<p>'What's the matter with lunching by the roadside here?' said +Penfentenyou. 'We've got the lunch-basket.'</p> +<p>'Haven't you ever heard of Sumtner Barton ales?' I demanded, and +be became the administrator at once, saying, '<i>I</i> see! Lingnam +can drive us in and we'll get some, while Holford'--this was the +hireling chauffeur, whose views on beer we knew not--'lays out +lunch here. That'll be better than eating at the pub. We can take +in the Foresters' Fête as well, and perhaps I can buy some +newspapers at the station.'</p> +<p>'True,' I answered. 'The railway station is just under that +bridge, and we'll come back and lunch here.'</p> +<p>I indicated a terrace of cool clean shade beneath kindly beeches +at the head of Sumtner Rise. As Holford got out the lunch-basket, a +detachment of Regular troops on manoeuvres swung down the baking +road.</p> +<p>'Ah!' said Mr. Lingnam, the monthly-magazine roll in his voice. +'All Europe is an armed camp, groaning, as I remember I once wrote, +under the weight of its accoutrements.'</p> +<p>'Oh, hop in and drive,' cried Penfentenyou. 'We want that +beer!'</p> +<p>It made no difference. Mr. Lingnam could have federated the +Empire from a tight rope. He continued his oration at the wheel as +we trundled.</p> +<p>'The danger to the Younger Nations is of being drawn into this +vortex of Militarism,' he went on, dodging the rear of the +soldiery.</p> +<p>'Slow past troops,' I hinted. 'It saves 'em dust. And we +overtake on the right as a rule in England.'</p> +<p>'Thanks!' Mr. Lingnam slued over. 'That's another detail which +needs to be co-ordinated throughout the Empire. But to go back to +what I was saying. My idea has always been that the component parts +of the Empire should take counsel among themselves on the approach +of war, so that, after we have decided on the merits of the +<i>casus belli</i>, we can co-ordinate what part each Dominion +shall play whenever war is, unfortunately, a possibility.'</p> +<p>We neared the hog-back railway bridge, and the hireling knocked +piteously at the grade. Mr. Lingnam changed gears, and she hoisted +herself up to a joyous <i>Youp-i-addy-i-ay!</i> from the +steam-organ. As we topped the arch we saw a Foresters' band with +banners marching down the street.</p> +<p>'That's all very fine,' said the Agent-General, 'but in real +life things have a knack of happening without approaching--'</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>(Some schools of Thought hold that Time is not; and that when we +attain complete enlightenment we shall behold past, present, and +future as One Awful Whole. I myself have nearly achieved this.)</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>We dipped over the bridge into the village. A boy on a bicycle, +loaded with four paper bonnet-boxes, pedalled towards us, out of an +alley on our right. He bowed his head the better to overcome the +ascent, and naturally took his left. Mr. Lingnam swerved +frantically to the right. Penfentenyou shouted. The boy looked up, +saw the car was like to squeeze him against the bridge wall, flung +himself off his machine and across the narrow pavement into the +nearest house. He slammed the door at the precise moment when the +car, all brakes set, bunted the abandoned bicycle, shattering three +of the bonnet-boxes and jerking the fourth over the unscreened +dashboard into Mr. Lingnam's arms.</p> +<p>There was a dead stillness, then a hiss like that of escaping +steam, and a man who had been running towards us ran the other +way.</p> +<p>'Why! I think that those must be bees,' said Mr. Lingnam.</p> +<p>They were--four full swarms--and the first living objects which +he had remarked upon all day.</p> +<p>Some one said, 'Oh, God!' The Agent-General went out over the +back of the car, crying resolutely: 'Stop the traffic! Stop the +traffic, there!' Penfentenyou was already on the pavement ringing a +door-bell, so I had both their rugs, which--for I am an apiarist--I +threw over my head. While I was tucking my trousers into my +socks--for I am an apiarist of experience--Mr. Lingnam picked up +the unexploded bonnet-box and with a single magnificent gesture (he +told us afterwards he thought there was a river beneath) hurled it +over the parapet of the bridge, ere he ran across the road towards +the village green. Now, the station platform immediately below was +crowded with Foresters and their friends waiting to welcome a +delegation from a sister Court. I saw the box burst on the flint +edging of the station garden and the contents sweep forward +cone-wise like shrapnel. But the result was stimulating rather than +sedative. All those well-dressed people below shouted like Sodom +and Gomorrah. Then they moved as a unit into the booking-office, +the waiting-rooms, and other places, shut doors and windows and +declaimed aloud, while the incoming train whistled far down the +line.</p> +<p>I pivoted round cross-legged on the back seat, like a Circassian +beauty beneath her veil, and saw Penfentenyou, his coat-collar over +his ears, dancing before a shut door and holding up handfuls of +currency to a silver-haired woman at an upper window, who only +mouthed and shook her head. A little child, carrying a kitten, came +smiling round a corner. Suddenly (but these things moved me no more +than so many yards of three-penny cinematograph-film) the kitten +leaped spitting from her arms, the child burst into tears, +Penfentenyou, still dancing, snatched her up and tucked her under +his coat, the woman's countenance blanched, the front door opened, +Penfentenyou and the child pressed through, and I was alone in an +inhospitable world where every one was shutting windows and calling +children home.</p> +<p>A voice cried: 'You've frowtened 'em! You've frowtened 'em! +Throw dust on 'em and they'll settle!'</p> +<p>I did not desire to throw dust on any created thing. I needed +both hands for my draperies and two more for my stockings. Besides, +the bees were doing me no hurt. They recognised me as a member of +the County Bee-keepers' Association who had paid his annual +subscription and was entitled to a free seat at all apicultural +exhibitions. The quiver and the churn of the hireling car, or it +might have been the lurching banners and the arrogant big drum, +inclined many of them to go up street, and pay court to the +advancing Foresters' band. So they went, such as had not followed +Mr. Lingnam in his flight toward the green, and I looked out of two +goggled eyes instead of half a one at the approaching musicians, +while I listened with both ears to the delayed train's second +whistle down the line beneath me.</p> +<p>The Forester's band no more knew what was coming than do troops +under sudden fire. Indeed, there were the same extravagant gestures +and contortions as attend wounds and deaths in war; the very same +uncanny cessations of speech--for the trombone was cut off at +midslide, even as a man drops with a syllable on his tongue. They +clawed, they slapped, they fled, leaving behind them a trophy of +banners and brasses crudely arranged round the big drum. Then that +end of the street also shut its windows, and the village, stripped +of life, lay round me like a reef at low tide. Though I am, as I +have said, an apiarist in good standing, I never realised that +there were so many bees in the world. When they had woven a +flashing haze from one end of the desert street to the other, there +remained reserves enough to form knops and pendules on all +window-sills and gutter-ends, without diminishing the multitudes in +the three oozing bonnet-boxes, or drawing on the Fourth (Railway) +Battalion in charge of the station below. The prisoners in the +waiting-rooms and other places there cried out a great deal (I +argued that they were dying of the heat), and at regular intervals +the stationmaster called and called to a signalman who was not on +duty, and the train whistled as it drew nearer.</p> +<p>Then Penfentenyou, venal and adaptable politician of the type +that survives at the price of all the higher emotions, appeared at +the window of the house on my right, broken and congested with +mirth, the woman beside him, and the child in his arms. I saw his +mouth open and shut, he hollowed his hands round it, but the churr +of the motor and the bees drowned his words. He pointed +dramatically across the street many times and fell back, tears +running down his face. I turned like a hooded barbette in a heavy +seaway (not knowing when my trousers would come out of my socks +again) through one hundred and eighty degrees, and in due time bore +on the village green. There was a salmon in the pond, rising short +at a cloud of midges to the tune of <i>Yip-i-addy</i>; but there +was none to gaff him. The swing-boats were empty, cocoa-nuts sat +still on their red sticks before white screens, and the gay-painted +horses of the giddy-go-rounds revolved riderless. All was melody, +green turf, bright water, and this greedy gambolling fish. When I +had identified it by its grey gills and binoculars as Lingnam, I +prostrated myself before Allah in that mirth which is more truly +labour than any prayer. Then I turned to the purple Penfentenyou at +the window, and wiped my eyes on the rug edge.</p> +<p>He raised the window half one cautious inch and bellowed through +the crack: 'Did you see <i>him</i>? Have they got <i>you</i>? I can +see lots of things from here. It's like a three-ring circus!'</p> +<p>'Can you see the station?' I replied, nodding toward the right +rear mudguard.</p> +<p>He twisted and craned sideways, but could not command that +beautiful view.</p> +<p>'No! What's it like?' he cried.</p> +<p>'Hell!' I shouted. The silver-haired woman frowned; so did +Penfentenyou, and, I think, apologised to her for my language.</p> +<p>'You're always so extreme,' he fluted reproachfully. 'You forget +that nothing matters except the Idea. Besides, they are this lady's +bees.'</p> +<p>He closed the window, and introduced us through it in dumb show; +but he contrived to give the impression that <i>I</i> was the +specimen under glass.</p> +<p>A spurt of damp steam saved me from apoplexy. The train had lost +patience at last, and was coming into the station directly beneath +me to see what was the matter. Happy voices sang and heads were +thrust out all along the compartments, but none answered their +songs or greetings. She halted, and the people began to get out. +Then they began to get in again, as their friends in the +waiting-rooms advised. All did not catch the warning, so there was +congestion at the doors, but those whom the bees caught got in +first.</p> +<p>Still the bees, more bent on their own business than wanton +torture, kept to the south end of the platform by the bookstall, +and that was why the completely exposed engine-driver at the north +end of the train did not at first understand the hermetically +sealed stationmaster when the latter shouted to him many times to +'get on out o' this.'</p> +<p>'Where are you?' was the reply. 'And what for?'</p> +<p>'It don't matter where I am, an' you'll get what-for in a minute +if you don't shift,' said the stationmaster. 'Drop 'em at Parson's +Meadow and they can walk up over the fields.'</p> +<p>That bare-armed, thin-shirted idiot, leaning out of the cab, +took the stationmaster's orders as an insult to his dignity, and +roared at the shut offices: 'You'll give me what-for, will you? +Look 'ere, I'm not in the 'abit of--' His outstretched hand flew to +his neck.... Do you know that if you sting an engine-driver it is +the same as stinging his train? She starts with a jerk that nearly +smashes the couplings, and runs, barking like a dog, till she is +out of sight. Nor does she think about spilled people and parted +families on the platform behind her. I had to do all that. There +was a man called Fred, and his wife Harriet--a cheery, full-blooded +couple--who interested me immensely before they battered their way +into a small detached building, already densely occupied. There was +also a nameless bachelor who sat under a half-opened umbrella and +twirled it dizzily, which was so new a game that I applauded +aloud.</p> +<p>When they had thoroughly cleared the ground, the bees set about +making comb for publication at the bookstall counter. Presently +some bold hearts tiptoed out of the waiting-rooms over the loud +gravel with the consciously modest air of men leaving church, +climbed the wooden staircase to the bridge, and so reached my +level, where the inexhaustible bonnet-boxes were still vomiting +squadrons and platoons. There was little need to bid them descend. +They had wrapped their heads in handkerchiefs, so that they looked +like the disappointed dead scuttling back to Purgatory. Only one +old gentleman, pontifically draped in a banner embroidered +'Temperance and Fortitude,' ran the gauntlet up-street, shouting as +he passed me, 'It's night or Blücher, Mister.' They let him in +at the White Hart, the pub. where I should have bought the +beer.</p> +<p>After this the day sagged. I fell to reckoning how long a man in +a Turkish bath, weakened by excessive laughter, could live without +food, and specially drink; and how long a disenfranchised bee could +hold out under the same conditions.</p> +<p>Obviously, since her one practical joke costs her her life, the +bee can have but small sense of humour; but her fundamentally +dismal and ungracious outlook on life impressed me beyond words. +She had paralysed locomotion, wiped out trade, social intercourse, +mutual trust, love, friendship, sport, music (the lonely +steam-organ had run down at last), all that gives substance, colour +or savour to life, and yet, in the barren desert she had created, +was not one whit more near to the evolution of a saner order of +things. The Heavens were darkened with the swarms' divided +counsels; the street shimmered with their purposeless sallies. They +clotted on tiles and gutter-pipes, and began frenziedly to build a +cell or two of comb ere they discovered that their queen was not +with them; then flung off to seek her, or whirled, dishevelled and +insane, into another hissing nebula on the false rumour that she +was there. I scowled upon them with disfavour, and a massy, blue +thunder-head rose majestically from behind the elm-trees of Sumtner +Barton Rectory, arched over and scowled with me. Then I realised +that it was not bees nor locusts that had darkened the skies, but +the on-coming of the malignant English thunderstorm--the one thing +before which even Deborah the bee cannot express her silly little +self.</p> +<p>'Aha! <i>Now</i> you'll catch it,' I said, as the herald gusts +set the big drum rolling down the street like a box-kite. Up and up +yearned the dark cloud, till the first lightning quivered and cut. +Deborah cowered. Where she flew, there she fled; where she was, +there she sat still; and the solid rain closed in on her as a book +that is closed when the chapter is finished. By the time it had +soaked to my second rug, Penfentenyou appeared at the window, +wiping his false mouth on a napkin.</p> +<p>'Are you all right?' he inquired. 'Then <i>that's</i> all right! +Mrs. Bellamy says that her bees don't sting in the wet. You'd +better fetch Lingnam over. He's got to pay for them and the +bicycle.'</p> +<p>I had no words which the silver-haired lady could listen to, but +paddled across the flooded street between flashes to the pond on +the green. Mr. Lingnam, scarcely visible through the sheeting +downpour, trotted round the edge. He bore himself nobly, and lied +at the mere sight of me.</p> +<p>'Isn't this wet?' he cried. 'It has drenched me to the skin. I +shall need a change.'</p> +<p>'Come along,' I said. 'I don't know what you'll get, but you +deserve more.'</p> +<p>Penfentenyou, dry, fed, and in command, let us in. 'You,' he +whispered to me, 'are to wait in the scullery. Mrs. Bellamy didn't +like the way you talked about her bees. Hsh! Hsh! She's a +kind-hearted lady. She's a widow, Lingnam, but she's kept +<i>his</i> clothes, and as soon as you've paid for the damage +she'll rent you a suit. I've arranged it all!'</p> +<p>'Then tell him he mustn't undress in my hall,' said a voice from +the stair-head.</p> +<p>'Tell <i>her</i>--' Lingnam began.</p> +<p>'Come and look at the pretty suit I've chosen,' Penfentenyou +cooed, as one cajoling a maniac.</p> +<p>I staggered out-of-doors again, and fell into the car, whose +ever-running machinery masked my yelps and hiccups. When I raised +my forehead from the wheel, I saw that traffic through the village +had been resumed, after, as my watch showed, one and one-half +hour's suspension. There were two limousines, one landau, one +doctor's car, three touring-cars, one patent steam-laundry van, +three tricars, one traction-engine, some motor-cycles, one with a +side-car, and one brewery lorry. It was the allegory of my own +imperturbable country, delayed for a short time by unforeseen +external events but now going about her business, and I blessed Her +with tears in my eyes, even though I knew She looked upon me as +drunk and incapable.</p> +<p>Then troops came over the bridge behind me--a company of +dripping wet Regulars without any expression. In their rear, +carrying the lunch-basket, marched the Agent-General and Holford +the hired chauffeur.</p> +<p>'I say,' said the Agent-General, nodding at the darkened khaki +backs. 'If <i>that's</i> what we've got to depend on in event of +war they're a broken reed. They ran like hares--ran like hares, I +tell you.'</p> +<p>'And you?' I asked.</p> +<p>'Oh, I just sauntered back over the bridge and stopped the +traffic that end. Then I had lunch. 'Pity about the beer, though. I +say--these cushions are sopping wet!'</p> +<p>'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I haven't had time to turn 'em.'</p> +<p>'Nor there wasn't any need to 'ave kept the engine runnin' all +this time,' said Holford sternly. 'I'll 'ave to account for the +expenditure of petrol. It exceeds the mileage indicated, you +see.'</p> +<p>'I'm sorry,' I repeated. After all, that is the way that +taxpayers regard most crises.</p> +<p>The house-door opened and Penfentenyou and another came out into +the now thinning rain.</p> +<p>'Ah! There you both are! Here's Lingnam,' he cried. 'He's got a +little wet. He's had to change.'</p> +<p>'We saw that. I was too sore and weak to begin another laugh, +but the Agent-General crumpled up where he stood. The late Mr. +Bellamy must have been a man of tremendous personality, which he +had impressed on every angle of his garments. I was told later that +he had died in delirium tremens, which at once explained the +pattern, and the reason why Mr. Lingnam, writhing inside it, swore +so inspiredly. Of the deliberate and diffuse Federationist there +remained no trace, save the binoculars and two damp whiskers. We +stood on the pavement, before Elemental Man calling on Elemental +Powers to condemn and incinerate Creation.</p> +<p>'Well, hadn't we better be getting back?' said the +Agent-General.</p> +<p>'Look out!' I remarked casually. 'Those bonnet-boxes are full of +bees still!'</p> +<p>'Are they?' said the livid Mr. Lingnam, and tilted them over +with the late Mr. Bellamy's large boots. Deborah rolled out in +drenched lumps into the swilling gutter. There was a muffled shriek +at the window where Mrs. Bellamy gesticulated.</p> +<p>'It's all right. I've paid for them,' said Mr. Lingnam. He +dumped out the last dregs like mould from a pot-bound +flower-pot.</p> +<p>'What? Are you going to take 'em home with you?' said the +Agent-General.</p> +<p>'No!' He passed a wet hand over his streaky forehead. 'Wasn't +there a bicycle that was the beginning of this trouble?' said +he.</p> +<p>'It's under the fore-axle, sir,' said Holford promptly. 'I can +fish it out from 'ere.'</p> +<p>'Not till I've done with it, please.' Before we could stop him, +he had jumped into the car and taken charge. The hireling leaped +into her collar, surged, shrieked (less loudly than Mrs. Bellamy at +the window), and swept on. That which came out behind her was, as +Holford truly observed, no joy-wheel. Mr. Lingnam swung round the +big drum in the market-place and thundered back, shouting: 'Leave +it alone. It's my meat!'</p> +<p>'Mince-meat, 'e means,' said Holford after this second +trituration. 'You couldn't say now it 'ad ever <i>been</i> one, +could you?'</p> +<p>Mrs. Bellamy opened the window and spoke. It appears she had +only charged for damage to the bicycle, not for the entire machine +which Mr. Lingnam was ruthlessly gleaning, spoke by spoke, from the +highway and cramming into the slack of the hood. At last he +answered, and I have never seen a man foam at the mouth before. 'If +you don't stop, I shall come into your house--in this car--and +drive upstairs and--kill you!'</p> +<p>She stopped; he stopped. Holford took the wheel, and we got +away. It was time, for the sun shone after the storm, and Deborah +beneath the tiles and the eaves already felt its reviving influence +compel her to her interrupted labours of federation. We warned the +village policeman at the far end of the street that he might have +to suspend traffic again. The proprietor of the giddy-go-round, +swings, and cocoanut-shies wanted to know from whom, in this world +or another, he could recover damages. Mr. Lingnam referred him most +directly to Mrs. Bellamy.... Then we went home.</p> +<p>After dinner that evening Mr. Lingnam rose stiffly in his place +to make a few remarks on the Federation of the Empire on the lines +of Co-ordinated, Offensive Operations, backed by the Entire +Effective Forces, Moral, Military, and Fiscal, of Permanently +Mobilised Communities, the whole brought to bear, without any +respect to the merits of any <i>casus belli</i>, instantaneously, +automatically, and remorselessly at the first faint buzz of +war.</p> +<p>'The trouble with Us,' said he, 'is that We take such an +infernally long time making sure that We are right that We don't go +ahead when things happen. For instance, I ought to have gone ahead +instead of pulling up when I hit that bicycle.'</p> +<p>'But you were in the wrong, Lingnam, when you turned to the +right,' I put in.</p> +<p>'I don't want to hear any more of your damned, detached, +mugwumping excuses for the other fellow,' he snapped.</p> +<p>'Now you're beginning to see things,' said Penfentenyou. 'I hope +you won't backslide when the swellings go down.'</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page405"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3"><b>THE SONG OF SEVEN CITIES</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I was Lord of Cities very sumptuously builded.</p> +<p>Seven roaring Cities paid me tribute from afar.</p> +<p>Ivory their outposts were--the guardrooms of them gilded,</p> +<p>And garrisoned with Amazons invincible in war.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>All the world went softly when it walked before my Cities--</p> +<p>Neither King nor Army vexed my peoples at their toil.</p> +<p>Never horse nor chariot irked or overbore my Cities,</p> +<p>Never Mob nor Ruler questioned whence they drew their spoil.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Banded, mailed and arrogant from sunrise unto sunset,</p> +<p>Singing while they sacked it, they possessed the land at +large.</p> +<p>Yet when men would rob them, they resisted, they made onset</p> +<p>And pierced the smoke of battle with a thousand-sabred +charge!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>So they warred and trafficked only yesterday, my Cities.</p> +<p>To-day there is no mark or mound of where my Cities stood.</p> +<p>For the River rose at midnight and it washed away my Cities.</p> +<p>They are evened with Atlantis and the towns before the +Flood.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Rain on rain-gorged channels raised the water-levels round +them,</p> +<p>Freshet backed on freshet swelled and swept their world from +sight,</p> +<p>Till the emboldened floods linked arms and flashing forward +drowned them--</p> +<p>Drowned my Seven Cities and their peoples in one night!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Low among the alders lie their derelict foundations,</p> +<p>The beams wherein they trusted and the plinths whereon they +built--</p> +<p>My rulers and their treasure and their unborn populations,</p> +<p>Dead, destroyed, aborted, and defiled with mud and silt!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The Daughters of the Palace whom they cherished in my +Cities,</p> +<p>My silver-tongued Princesses, and the promise of their May--</p> +<p>Their bridegrooms of the June-tide--all have perished in my +Cities,</p> +<p>With the harsh envenomed virgins that can neither love nor +play.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I was Lord of Cities--I will build anew my Cities,</p> +<p>Seven, set on rocks, above the wrath of any flood.</p> +<p>Nor will I rest from search till I have filled anew my +Cities</p> +<p>With peoples undefeated of the dark, enduring blood.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>To the sound of trumpets shall their seed restore my Cities.</p> +<p>Wealthy and well-weaponed, that once more may I behold</p> +<p>All the world go softly when it walks before my Cities,</p> +<p>And the horses and the chariots fleeing from them as of old!</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page409"></a> +<h2>'Swept and Garnished'</h2> +<h3>(January 1915)</h3> +<br> +<p>When the first waves of feverish cold stole over Frau Ebermann +she very wisely telephoned for the doctor and went to bed. He +diagnosed the attack as mild influenza, prescribed the appropriate +remedies, and left her to the care of her one servant in her +comfortable Berlin flat. Frau Ebermann, beneath the thick coverlet, +curled up with what patience she could until the aspirin should +begin to act, and Anna should come back from the chemist with the +formamint, the ammoniated quinine, the eucalyptus, and the little +tin steam-inhaler. Meantime, every bone in her body ached; her head +throbbed; her hot, dry hands would not stay the same size for a +minute together; and her body, tucked into the smallest possible +compass, shrank from the chill of the well-warmed sheets.</p> +<p>Of a sudden she noticed that an imitation-lace cover which +should have lain mathematically square with the imitation-marble +top of the radiator behind the green plush sofa had slipped away so +that one corner hung over the bronze-painted steam pipes. She +recalled that she must have rested her poor head against the +radiator-top while she was taking off her boots. She tried to get +up and set the thing straight, but the radiator at once receded +toward the horizon, which, unlike true horizons, slanted +diagonally, exactly parallel with the dropped lace edge of the +cover. Frau Ebermann groaned through sticky lips and lay still.</p> +<p>'Certainly, I have a temperature,' she said. 'Certainly, I have +a grave temperature. I should have been warned by that chill after +dinner.'</p> +<p>She resolved to shut her hot-lidded eyes, but opened them in a +little while to torture herself with the knowledge of that +ungeometrical thing against the far wall. Then she saw a child--an +untidy, thin-faced little girl of about ten, who must have strayed +in from the adjoining flat. This proved--Frau Ebermann groaned +again at the way the world falls to bits when one is sick--proved +that Anna had forgotten to shut the outer door of the flat when she +went to the chemist. Frau Ebermann had had children of her own, but +they were all grown up now, and she had never been a child-lover in +any sense. Yet the intruder might be made to serve her scheme of +things.</p> +<p>'Make--put,' she muttered thickly, 'that white thing straight on +the top of that yellow thing.'</p> +<p>The child paid no attention, but moved about the room, +investigating everything that came in her way--the yellow cut-glass +handles of the chest of drawers, the stamped bronze hook to hold +back the heavy puce curtains, and the mauve enamel, New Art +finger-plates on the door. Frau Ebermann watched indignantly.</p> +<p>'Aie! That is bad and rude. Go away!' she cried, though it hurt +her to raise her voice. 'Go away by the road you came!' The child +passed behind the bed-foot, where she could not see her. 'Shut the +door as you go. I will speak to Anna, but--first, put that white +thing straight.'</p> +<p>She closed her eyes in misery of body and soul. The outer door +clicked, and Anna entered, very penitent that she had stayed so +long at the chemist's. But it had been difficult to find the proper +type of inhaler, and--</p> +<p>'Where did the child go?' moaned Frau Ebermann--'the child that +was here?'</p> +<p>'There was no child,' said startled Anna. 'How should any child +come in when I shut the door behind me after I go out? All the keys +of the flats are different.'</p> +<p>'No, no! You forgot this time. But my back is aching, and up my +legs also. Besides, who knows what it may have fingered and upset? +Look and see.'</p> +<p>'Nothing is fingered, nothing is upset,' Anna replied, as she +took the inhaler from its paper box.</p> +<p>'Yes, there is. Now I remember all about it. Put--put that white +thing, with the open edge--the lace, I mean--quite straight on +that--' she pointed. Anna, accustomed to her ways, understood and +went to it.</p> +<p>'Now, is it quite straight?' Frau Ebermann demanded.</p> +<p>'Perfectly,' said Anna. 'In fact, in the very centre of the +radiator.' Anna measured the equal margins with her knuckle, as she +had been told to do when she first took service.</p> +<p>'And my tortoise-shell hair brushes?' Frau Ebermann could not +command her dressing-table from where she lay.</p> +<p>'Perfectly straight, side by side in the big tray, and the comb +laid across them. Your watch also in the coralline watch-holder. +Everything'--she moved round the room to make sure--'everything is +as you have it when you are well.' Frau Ebermann sighed with +relief. It seemed to her that the room and her head had suddenly +grown cooler.</p> +<p>'Good!' said she. 'Now warm my night-gown in the kitchen, so it +will be ready when I have perspired. And the towels also. Make the +inhaler steam, and put in the eucalyptus; that is good for the +larynx. Then sit you in the kitchen, and come when I ring. But, +first, my hot-water bottle.'</p> +<p>It was brought and scientifically tucked in.</p> +<p>'What news?' said Frau Ebermann drowsily. She had not been out +that day.</p> +<p>'Another victory,' said Anna. 'Many more prisoners and +guns.'</p> +<p>Frau Ebermann purred, one might almost say grunted, +contentedly.</p> +<p>'That is good too,' she said; and Anna, after lighting the +inhaler-lamp, went out.</p> +<p>Frau Ebermann reflected that in an hour or so the aspirin would +begin to work, and all would be well. To-morrow--no, the day +after--she would take up life with something to talk over with her +friends at coffee. It was rare--every one knew it--that she should +be overcome by any ailment. Yet in all her distresses she had not +allowed the minutest deviation from daily routine and ritual. She +would tell her friends--she ran over their names one by +one--exactly what measures she had taken against the lace cover on +the radiator-top and in regard to her two tortoise-shell hair +brushes and the comb at right angles. How she had set everything in +order--everything in order. She roved further afield as she +wriggled her toes luxuriously on the hot-water bottle. If it +pleased our dear God to take her to Himself, and she was not so +young as she had been--there was that plate of the four lower ones +in the blue tooth-glass, for instance--He should find all her +belongings fit to meet His eye. 'Swept and garnished' were the +words that shaped themselves in her intent brain. 'Swept and +garnished for--'</p> +<p>No, it was certainly not for the dear Lord that she had swept; +she would have her room swept out to-morrow or the day after, and +garnished. Her hands began to swell again into huge pillows of +nothingness. Then they shrank, and so did her head, to minute dots. +It occurred to her that she was waiting for some event, some +tremendously important event, to come to pass. She lay with shut +eyes for a long time till her head and hands should return to their +proper size.</p> +<p>She opened her eyes with a jerk.</p> +<p>'How stupid of me,' she said aloud, 'to set the room in order +for a parcel of dirty little children!'</p> +<p>They were there--five of them, two little boys and three +girls--headed by the anxious-eyed ten-year-old whom she had seen +before. They must have entered by the outer door, which Anna had +neglected to shut behind her when she returned with the inhaler. +She counted them backward and forward as one counts scales--one, +two, three, four, five.</p> +<p>They took no notice of her, but hung about, first on one foot +then on the other, like strayed chickens, the smaller ones holding +by the larger. They had the air of utterly wearied passengers in a +railway waiting-room, and their clothes were disgracefully +dirty.</p> +<p>'Go away!' cried Frau Ebermann at last, after she had struggled, +it seemed to her, for years to shape the words.</p> +<p>'You called?' said Anna at the living-room door.</p> +<p>'No,' said her mistress. 'Did you shut the flat door when you +came in?'</p> +<p>'Assuredly,' said Anna. 'Besides, it is made to catch shut of +itself.'</p> +<p>'Then go away,' said she, very little above a whisper. If Anna +pretended not to see the children, she would speak to Anna later +on.</p> +<p>'And now,' she said, turning toward them as soon as the door +closed. The smallest of the crowd smiled at her, and shook his head +before he buried it in his sister's skirts.</p> +<p>'Why--don't--you--go--away?' she whispered earnestly.</p> +<p>Again they took no notice, but, guided by the elder girl, set +themselves to climb, boots and all, on to the green plush sofa in +front of the radiator. The little boys had to be pushed, as they +could not compass the stretch unaided. They settled themselves in a +row, with small gasps of relief, and pawed the plush +approvingly.</p> +<p>'I ask you--I ask you why do you not go away--why do you not go +away?' Frau Ebermann found herself repeating the question twenty +times. It seemed to her that everything in the world hung on the +answer. 'You know you should not come into houses and rooms unless +you are invited. Not houses and bedrooms, you know.'</p> +<p>'No,' a solemn little six-year-old repeated, 'not houses nor +bedrooms, nor dining-rooms, nor churches, nor all those places. +Shouldn't come in. It's rude.'</p> +<p>'Yes, he said so,' the younger girl put in proudly. 'He said it. +He told them only pigs would do that.' The line nodded and dimpled +one to another with little explosive giggles, such as children use +when they tell deeds of great daring against their elders.</p> +<p>'If you know it is wrong, that makes it much worse,' said Frau +Ebermann.</p> +<p>'Oh yes; much worse,' they assented cheerfully, till the +smallest boy changed his smile to a baby wail of weariness.</p> +<p>'When will they come for us?' he asked, and the girl at the head +of the row hauled him bodily into her square little capable +lap.</p> +<p>'He's tired,' she explained. 'He is only four. He only had his +first breeches this spring.' They came almost under his armpits, +and were held up by broad linen braces, which, his sorrow diverted +for the moment, he patted proudly.</p> +<p>'Yes, beautiful, dear,' said both girls.</p> +<p>'Go away!' said Frau Ebermann. 'Go home to your father and +mother!'</p> +<p>Their faces grew grave at once.</p> +<p>'H'sh! We <i>can't</i>,' whispered the eldest. 'There isn't +anything left.'</p> +<p>'All gone,' a boy echoed, and he puffed through pursed lips. +'Like <i>that</i>, uncle told me. Both cows too.'</p> +<p>'And my own three ducks,' the boy on the girl's lap said +sleepily.</p> +<p>'So, you see, we came here.' The elder girl leaned forward a +little, caressing the child she rocked.</p> +<p>'I--I don't understand,' said Frau Ebermann 'Are you lost, then? +You must tell our police.'</p> +<p>'Oh no; we are only waiting.'</p> +<p>'But what are you waiting <i>for?</i>'</p> +<p>'We are waiting for our people to come for us. They told us to +come here and wait for them. So we are waiting till they come,' the +eldest girl replied.</p> +<p>'Yes. We are waiting till our people come for us,' said all the +others in chorus.</p> +<p>'But,' said Frau Ebermann very patiently--'but now tell me, for +I tell you that I am not in the least angry, where do you come +from? Where do you come from?'</p> +<p>The five gave the names of two villages of which she had read in +the papers,</p> +<p>'That is silly,' said Frau Ebermann. 'The people fired on us, +and they were punished. Those places are wiped out, stamped +flat.'</p> +<p>'Yes, yes, wiped out, stamped flat. That is why and--I have lost +the ribbon off my pigtail,' said the younger girl. She looked +behind her over the sofa-back.</p> +<p>'It is not here,' said the elder. 'It was lost before. Don't you +remember?'</p> +<p>'Now, if you are lost, you must go and tell our police. They +will take care of you and give you food,' said Frau Ebermann. 'Anna +will show you the way there.'</p> +<p>'No,'--this was the six-year-old with the smile,--'we must wait +here till our people come for us. Mustn't we, sister?'</p> +<p>'Of course. We wait here till our people come for us. All the +world knows that,' said the eldest girl.</p> +<p>'Yes.' The boy in her lap had waked again. 'Little children, +too--as little as Henri, and <i>he</i> doesn't wear trousers yet. +As little as all that.'</p> +<p>'I don't understand,' said Frau Ebermann, shivering. In spite of +the heat of the room and the damp breath of the steam-inhaler, the +aspirin was not doing its duty.</p> +<p>The girl raised her blue eyes and looked at the woman for an +instant.</p> +<p>'You see,' she said, emphasising her statements with her +ringers, '<i>they</i> told <i>us</i> to wait <i>here</i> till +<i>our</i> people came for us. So we came. We wait till our people +come for us.'</p> +<p>'That is silly again,' said Frau Ebermann. 'It is no good for +you to wait here. Do you know what this place is? You have been to +school? It is Berlin, the capital of Germany.'</p> +<p>'Yes, yes,' they all cried; 'Berlin, capital of Germany. We know +that. That is why we came.'</p> +<p>'So, you see, it is no good,' she said triumphantly, 'because +your people can never come for you here.'</p> +<p>'They told us to come here and wait till our people came for +us.' They delivered this as if it were a lesson in school. Then +they sat still, their hands orderly folded on their laps, smiling +as sweetly as ever.</p> +<p>'Go away! Go away!' Frau Ebermann shrieked.</p> +<p>'You called?' said Anna, entering.</p> +<p>'No. Go away! Go away!'</p> +<p>'Very good, old cat,' said the maid under her breath. 'Next time +you <i>may</i> call,' and she returned to her friend in the +kitchen.</p> +<p>'I ask you--ask you, <i>please</i> to go away,' Frau Ebermann +pleaded. 'Go to my Anna through that door, and she will give you +cakes and sweeties. It is not kind of you to come into my room and +behave so badly.'</p> +<p>'Where else shall we go now?' the elder girl demanded, turning +to her little company. They fell into discussion. One preferred the +broad street with trees, another the railway station; but when she +suggested an Emperor's palace, they agreed with her.</p> +<p>'We will go then,' she said, and added half apologetically to +Frau Ebermann, 'You see, they are so little they like to meet all +the others.'</p> +<p>'What others?' said Frau Ebermann.</p> +<p>'The others--hundreds and hundreds and thousands and thousands +of the others.'</p> +<p>'That is a lie. There cannot be a hundred even, much less a +thousand,' cried Frau Ebermann.</p> +<p>'So?' said the girl politely.</p> +<p>'Yes. <i>I</i> tell you; and I have very good information. I +know how it happened. You should have been more careful. You should +not have run out to see the horses and guns passing. That is how it +is done when our troops pass through. My son has written me +so.'</p> +<p>They had clambered down from the sofa, and gathered round the +bed with eager, interested eyes.</p> +<p>'Horses and guns going by--how fine!' some one whispered.</p> +<p>'Yes, yes; believe me, <i>that</i> is how the accidents to the +children happen. You must know yourself that it is true. One runs +out to look--'</p> +<p>'But I never saw any at all,' a boy cried sorrowfully. 'Only one +noise I heard. That was when Aunt Emmeline's house fell down.'</p> +<p>'But listen to me. <i>I</i> am telling you! One runs out to +look, because one is little and cannot see well. So one peeps +between the man's legs, and then--you know how close those big +horses and guns turn the corners--then one's foot slips and one +gets run over. That's how it happens. Several times it had +happened, but not many times; certainly not a hundred, perhaps not +twenty. So, you see, you <i>must</i> be all. Tell me now that you +are all that there are, and Anna shall give you the cakes.'</p> +<p>'Thousands,' a boy repeated monotonously. 'Then we all come here +to wait till our people come for us.'</p> +<p>'But now we will go away from here. The poor lady is tired,' +said the elder girl, plucking his sleeve.</p> +<p>'Oh, you hurt, you hurt!' he cried, and burst into tears.</p> +<p>'What is that for?' said Frau Ebermann. 'To cry in a room where +a poor lady is sick is very inconsiderate.'</p> +<p>'Oh, but look, lady!' said the elder girl.</p> +<p>Frau Ebermann looked and saw.</p> +<p>'<i>Au revoir</i>, lady.' They made their little smiling bows +and curtseys undisturbed by her loud cries. '<i>Au revoir,</i> +lady. We will wait till our people come for us.'</p> +<p>When Anna at last ran in, she found her mistress on her knees, +busily cleaning the floor with the lace cover from the radiator, +because, she explained, it was all spotted with the blood of five +children--she was perfectly certain there could not be more than +five in the whole world--who had gone away for the moment, but were +now waiting round the corner, and Anna was to find them and give +them cakes to stop the bleeding, while her mistress swept and +garnished that Our dear Lord when He came might find everything as +it should be.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page421"></a> +<h2>Mary Postgate</h2> +<h3>(1915)</h3> +<br> +<p>Of Miss Mary Postgate, Lady McCausland wrote that she was +'thoroughly conscientious, tidy, companionable, and ladylike. I am +very sorry to part with her, and shall always be interested in her +welfare.'</p> +<p>Miss Fowler engaged her on this recommendation, and to her +surprise, for she had had experience of companions, found that it +was true. Miss Fowler was nearer sixty than fifty at the time, but +though she needed care she did not exhaust her attendant's +vitality. On the contrary, she gave out, stimulatingly and with +reminiscences. Her father had been a minor Court official in the +days when the Great Exhibition of 1851 had just set its seal on +Civilisation made perfect. Some of Miss Fowler's tales, none the +less, were not always for the young. Mary was not young, and though +her speech was as colourless as her eyes or her hair, she was never +shocked. She listened unflinchingly to every one; said at the end, +'How interesting!' or 'How shocking!' as the case might be, and +never again referred to it, for she prided herself on a trained +mind, which 'did not dwell on these things.' She was, too, a +treasure at domestic accounts, for which the village tradesmen, +with their weekly books, loved her not. Otherwise she had no +enemies; provoked no jealousy even among the plainest; neither +gossip nor slander had ever been traced to her; she supplied the +odd place at the Rector's or the Doctor's table at half an hour's +notice; she was a sort of public aunt to very many small children +of the village street, whose parents, while accepting everything, +would have been swift to resent what they called 'patronage'; she +served on the Village Nursing Committee as Miss Fowler's nominee +when Miss Fowler was crippled by rheumatoid arthritis, and came out +of six months' fortnightly meetings equally respected by all the +cliques.</p> +<p>And when Fate threw Miss Fowler's nephew, an unlovely orphan of +eleven, on Miss Fowler's hands, Mary Postgate stood to her share of +the business of education as practised in private and public +schools. She checked printed clothes-lists, and unitemised bills of +extras; wrote to Head and House masters, matrons, nurses and +doctors, and grieved or rejoiced over half-term reports. Young +Wyndham Fowler repaid her in his holidays by calling her +'Gatepost,' 'Postey,' or 'Packthread,' by thumping her between her +narrow shoulders, or by chasing her bleating, round the garden, her +large mouth open, her large nose high in air, at a stiff-necked +shamble very like a camel's. Later on he filled the house with +clamour, argument, and harangues as to his personal needs, likes +and dislikes, and the limitations of 'you women,' reducing Mary to +tears of physical fatigue, or, when he chose to be humorous, of +helpless laughter. At crises, which multiplied as he grew older, +she was his ambassadress and his interpretress to Miss Fowler, who +had no large sympathy with the young; a vote in his interest at the +councils on his future; his sewing-woman, strictly accountable for +mislaid boots and garments; always his butt and his slave.</p> +<p>And when he decided to become a solicitor, and had entered an +office in London; when his greeting had changed from 'Hullo, +Postey, you old beast,' to Mornin', Packthread,' there came a war +which, unlike all wars that Mary could remember, did not stay +decently outside England and in the newspapers, but intruded on the +lives of people whom she knew. As she said to Miss Fowler, it was +'most vexatious.' It took the Rector's son who was going into +business with his elder brother; it took the Colonel's nephew on +the eve of fruit-farming in Canada; it took Mrs. Grant's son who, +his mother said, was devoted to the ministry; and, very early +indeed, it took Wynn Fowler, who announced on a postcard that he +had joined the Flying Corps and wanted a cardigan waistcoat.</p> +<p>'He must go, and he must have the waistcoat,' said Miss Fowler. +So Mary got the proper-sized needles and wool, while Miss Fowler +told the men of her establishment--two gardeners and an odd man, +aged sixty--that those who could join the Army had better do so. +The gardeners left. Cheape, the odd man, stayed on, and was +promoted to the gardener's cottage. The cook, scorning to be +limited in luxuries, also left, after a spirited scene with Miss +Fowler, and took the housemaid with her. Miss Fowler gazetted +Nellie, Cheape's seventeen-year-old daughter, to the vacant post; +Mrs. Cheape to the rank of cook, with occasional cleaning bouts; +and the reduced establishment moved forward smoothly.</p> +<p>Wynn demanded an increase in his allowance. Miss Fowler, who +always looked facts in the face, said, 'He must have it. The +chances are he won't live long to draw it, and if three hundred +makes him happy--'</p> +<p>Wynn was grateful, and came over, in his tight-buttoned uniform, +to say so. His training centre was not thirty miles away, and his +talk was so technical that it had to be explained by charts of the +various types of machines. He gave Mary such a chart.</p> +<p>'And you'd better study it, Postey,' he said. 'You'll be seeing +a lot of 'em soon.' So Mary studied the chart, but when Wynn next +arrived to swell and exalt himself before his womenfolk, she failed +badly in cross-examination, and he rated her as in the old +days.</p> +<p>'You <i>look</i> more or less like a human being,' he said in +his new Service voice. 'You <i>must</i> have had a brain at some +time in your past. What have you done with it? Where d'you keep it? +A sheep would know more than you do, Postey. You're lamentable. You +are less use than an empty tin can, you dowey old cassowary.'</p> +<p>'I suppose that's how your superior officer talks to +<i>you</i>?' said Miss Fowler from her chair.</p> +<p>'But Postey doesn't mind,' Wynn replied. 'Do you, +Packthread?'</p> +<p>'Why? Was Wynn saying anything? I shall get this right next time +you come,' she muttered, and knitted her pale brows again over the +diagrams of Taubes, Farmans, and Zeppelins.</p> +<p>In a few weeks the mere land and sea battles which she read to +Miss Fowler after breakfast passed her like idle breath. Her heart +and her interest were high in the air with Wynn, who had finished +'rolling' (whatever that might be) and had gone on from a 'taxi' to +a machine more or less his own. One morning it circled over their +very chimneys, alighted on Vegg's Heath, almost outside the garden +gate, and Wynn came in, blue with cold, shouting for food. He and +she drew Miss Fowler's bath-chair, as they had often done, along +the Heath foot-path to look at the bi-plane. Mary observed that 'it +smelt very badly.'</p> +<p>'Postey, I believe you think with your nose,' said Wynn. 'I know +you don't with your mind. Now, what type's that?'</p> +<p>'I'll go and get the chart,' said Mary.</p> +<p>'You're hopeless! You haven't the mental capacity of a white +mouse,' he cried, and explained the dials and the sockets for +bomb-dropping till it was time to mount and ride the wet clouds +once more.</p> +<p>'Ah!' said Mary, as the stinking thing flared upward. 'Wait till +our Flying Corps gets to work! Wynn says it's much safer than in +the trenches.'</p> +<p>'I wonder,' said Miss Fowler. 'Tell Cheape to come and tow me +home again.'</p> +<p>'It's all downhill. I can do it,' said Mary, 'if you put the +brake on.' She laid her lean self against the pushing-bar and home +they trundled.</p> +<p>'Now, be careful you aren't heated and catch a chill,' said +overdressed Miss Fowler.</p> +<p>'Nothing makes me perspire,' said Mary. As she bumped the chair +under the porch she straightened her long back. The exertion had +given her a colour, and the wind had loosened a wisp of hair across +her forehead. Miss Fowler glanced at her.</p> +<p>'What do you ever think of, Mary?' she demanded suddenly.</p> +<p>'Oh, Wynn says he wants another three pairs of stockings--as +thick as we can make them.'</p> +<p>'Yes. But I mean the things that women think about. Here you +are, more than forty--'</p> +<p>'Forty-four,' said truthful Mary.</p> +<p>'Well?'</p> +<p>'Well?' Mary offered Miss Fowler her shoulder as usual.</p> +<p>'And you've been with me ten years now.'</p> +<p>'Let's see,' said Mary. 'Wynn was eleven when he came. He's +twenty now, and I came two years before that. It must be +eleven.'</p> +<p>'Eleven! And you've never told me anything that matters in all +that while. Looking back, it seems to me that <i>I</i>'ve done all +the talking.'</p> +<p>'I'm afraid I'm not much of a conversationalist. As Wynn says, I +haven't the mind. Let me take your hat.'</p> +<p>Miss Fowler, moving stiffly from the hip, stamped her +rubber-tipped stick on the tiled hall floor. 'Mary, aren't you +<i>anything</i> except a companion? Would you <i>ever</i> have been +anything except a companion?'</p> +<p>Mary hung up the garden hat on its proper peg. 'No,' she said +after consideration. 'I don't imagine I ever should. But I've no +imagination, I'm afraid.'</p> +<p>She fetched Miss Fowler her eleven-o'clock glass of +Contrexéville.</p> +<p>That was the wet December when it rained six inches to the +month, and the women went abroad as little as might be. Wynn's +flying chariot visited them several times, and for two mornings (he +had warned her by postcard) Mary heard the thresh of his propellers +at dawn. The second time she ran to the window, and stared at the +whitening sky. A little blur passed overhead. She lifted her lean +arms towards it.</p> +<p>That evening at six o'clock there came an announcement in an +official envelope that Second Lieutenant W. Fowler had been killed +during a trial flight. Death was instantaneous. She read it and +carried it to Miss Fowler.</p> +<p>'I never expected anything else,' said Miss Fowler; 'but I'm +sorry it happened before he had done anything.'</p> +<p>The room was whirling round Mary Postgate, but she found herself +quite steady in the midst of it.</p> +<p>'Yes,' she said. 'It's a great pity he didn't die in action +after he had killed somebody.'</p> +<p>'He was killed instantly. That's one comfort,' Miss Fowler went +on.</p> +<p>'But Wynn says the shock of a fall kills a man at once--whatever +happens to the tanks,' quoted Mary.</p> +<p>The room was coming to rest now. She heard Miss Fowler say +impatiently, 'But why can't we cry, Mary?' and herself replying, +'There's nothing to cry for. He has done his duty as much as Mrs. +Grant's son did.'</p> +<p>'And when he died, <i>she</i> came and cried all the morning,' +said Miss Fowler. 'This only makes me feel tired--terribly tired. +Will you help me to bed, please, Mary?--And I think I'd like the +hot-water bottle.'</p> +<p>So Mary helped her and sat beside, talking of Wynn in his +riotous youth.</p> +<p>'I believe,' said Miss Fowler suddenly, 'that old people and +young people slip from under a stroke like this. The middle-aged +feel it most.'</p> +<p>'I expect that's true,' said Mary, rising. 'I'm going to put +away the things in his room now. Shall we wear mourning?'</p> +<p>'Certainly not,' said Miss Fowler. 'Except, of course, at the +funeral. I can't go. You will. I want you to arrange about his +being buried here. What a blessing it didn't happen at +Salisbury!'</p> +<p>Every one, from the Authorities of the Flying Corps to the +Rector, was most kind and sympathetic. Mary found herself for the +moment in a world where bodies were in the habit of being +despatched by all sorts of conveyances to all sorts of places. And +at the funeral two young men in buttoned-up uniforms stood beside +the grave and spoke to her afterwards.</p> +<p>'You're Miss Postgate, aren't you?' said one. 'Fowler told me +about you. He was a good chap--a first-class fellow--a great +loss.'</p> +<p>'Great loss!' growled his companion. 'We're all awfully +sorry.'</p> +<p>'How high did he fall from?' Mary whispered.</p> +<p>'Pretty nearly four thousand feet, I should think, didn't he? +You were up that day, Monkey?'</p> +<p>'All of that,' the other child replied. 'My bar made three +thousand, and I wasn't as high as him by a lot.'</p> +<p>'Then <i>that's</i> all right,' said Mary. 'Thank you very +much.'</p> +<p>They moved away as Mrs. Grant flung herself weeping on Mary's +flat chest, under the lych-gate, and cried, '<i>I</i> know how it +feels! <i>I</i> know how it feels!'</p> +<p>'But both his parents are dead,' Mary returned, as she fended +her off. 'Perhaps they've all met by now,' she added vaguely as she +escaped towards the coach.</p> +<p>'I've thought of that too,' wailed Mrs. Grant; 'but then he'll +be practically a stranger to them. Quite embarrassing!'</p> +<p>Mary faithfully reported every detail of the ceremony to Miss +Fowler, who, when she described Mrs. Grant's outburst, laughed +aloud.</p> +<p>'Oh, how Wynn would have enjoyed it! He was always utterly +unreliable at funerals. D'you remember--' And they talked of him +again, each piecing out the other's gaps. 'And now,' said Miss +Fowler, 'we'll pull up the blinds and we'll have a general tidy. +That always does us good. Have you seen to Wynn's things?'</p> +<p>'Everything--since he first came,' said Mary. 'He was never +destructive--even with his toys.'</p> +<p>They faced that neat room.</p> +<p>'It can't be natural not to cry,' Mary said at last. 'I'm +<i>so</i> afraid you'll have a reaction.'</p> +<p>'As I told you, we old people slip from under the stroke. It's +you I'm afraid for. Have you cried yet?'</p> +<p>'I can't. It only makes me angry with the Germans.'</p> +<p>'That's sheer waste of vitality,' said Miss Fowler. 'We must +live till the war's finished.' She opened a full wardrobe. 'Now, +I've been thinking things over. This is my plan. All his civilian +clothes can be given away--Belgian refugees, and so on.'</p> +<p>Mary nodded. 'Boots, collars, and gloves?'</p> +<p>'Yes. We don't need to keep anything except his cap and +belt.'</p> +<p>'They came back yesterday with his Flying Corps clothes'--Mary +pointed to a roll on the little iron bed.</p> +<p>'Ah, but keep his Service things. Some one may be glad of them +later. Do you remember his sizes?'</p> +<p>'Five feet eight and a half; thirty-six inches round the chest. +But he told me he's just put on an inch and a half. I'll mark it on +a label and tie it on his sleeping-bag.'</p> +<p>'So that disposes of <i>that</i>,' said Miss Fowler, tapping the +palm of one hand with the ringed third finger of the other. 'What +waste it all is! We'll get his old school trunk to-morrow and pack +his civilian clothes.'</p> +<p>'And the rest?' said Mary. 'His books and pictures and the games +and the toys--and--and the rest?'</p> +<p>'My plan is to burn every single thing,' said Miss Fowler. 'Then +we shall know where they are and no one can handle them afterwards. +What do you think?'</p> +<p>'I think that would be much the best,' said Mary. 'But there's +such a lot of them.'</p> +<p>'We'll burn them in the destructor,' said Miss Fowler.</p> +<p>This was an open-air furnace for the consumption of refuse; a +little circular four-foot tower of pierced brick over an iron +grating. Miss Fowler had noticed the design in a gardening journal +years ago, and had had it built at the bottom of the garden. It +suited her tidy soul, for it saved unsightly rubbish-heaps, and the +ashes lightened the stiff clay soil.</p> +<p>Mary considered for a moment, saw her way clear, and nodded +again. They spent the evening putting away well-remembered civilian +suits, underclothes that Mary had marked, and the regiments of very +gaudy socks and ties. A second trunk was needed, and, after that, a +little packing-case, and it was late next day when Cheape and the +local carrier lifted them to the cart. The Rector luckily knew of a +friend's son, about five feet eight and a half inches high, to whom +a complete Flying Corps outfit would be most acceptable, and sent +his gardener's son down with a barrow to take delivery of it. The +cap was hung up in Miss Fowler's bedroom, the belt in Miss +Postgate's; for, as Miss Fowler said, they had no desire to make +tea-party talk of them.</p> +<p>'That disposes of <i>that</i>,' said Miss Fowler. 'I'll leave +the rest to you, Mary. I can't run up and down the garden. You'd +better take the big clothes-basket and get Nellie to help you.'</p> +<p>'I shall take the wheel-barrow and do it myself,' said Mary, and +for once in her life closed her mouth.</p> +<p>Miss Fowler, in moments of irritation, had called Mary deadly +methodical. She put on her oldest waterproof and gardening-hat and +her ever-slipping goloshes, for the weather was on the edge of more +rain. She gathered fire-lighters from the kitchen, a half-scuttle +of coals, and a faggot of brushwood. These she wheeled in the +barrow down the mossed paths to the dank little laurel shrubbery +where the destructor stood under the drip of three oaks. She +climbed the wire fence into the Rector's glebe just behind, and +from his tenant's rick pulled two large armfuls of good hay, which +she spread neatly on the fire-bars. Next, journey by journey, +passing Miss Fowler's white face at the morning-room window each +time, she brought down in the towel-covered clothes-basket, on the +wheel-barrow, thumbed and used Hentys, Marryats, Levers, +Stevensons, Baroness Orczys, Garvices, schoolbooks, and atlases, +unrelated piles of the <i>Motor Cyclist</i>, the <i>Light Car</i>, +and catalogues of Olympia Exhibitions; the remnants of a fleet of +sailing-ships from ninepenny cutters to a three-guinea yacht; a +prep.-school dressing-gown; bats from three-and-sixpence to +twenty-four shillings; cricket and tennis balls; disintegrated +steam and clockwork locomotives with their twisted rails; a grey +and red tin model of a submarine; a dumb gramophone and cracked +records; golf-clubs that had to be broken across the knee, like his +walking-sticks, and an assegai; photographs of private and public +school cricket and football elevens, and his O.T.C. on the line of +march; kodaks, and film-rolls; some pewters, and one real silver +cup, for boxing competitions and Junior Hurdles; sheaves of school +photographs; Miss Fowler's photograph; her own which he had borne +off in fun and (good care she took not to ask!) had never returned; +a playbox with a secret drawer; a load of flannels, belts, and +jerseys, and a pair of spiked shoes unearthed in the attic; a +packet of all the letters that Miss Fowler and she had ever written +to him, kept for some absurd reason through all these years; a +five-day attempt at a diary; framed pictures of racing motors in +full Brooklands career, and load upon load of undistinguishable +wreckage of tool-boxes, rabbit-hutches, electric batteries, tin +soldiers, fret-saw outfits, and jig-saw puzzles.</p> +<p>Miss Fowler at the window watched her come and go, and said to +herself, 'Mary's an old woman. I never realised it before.'</p> +<p>After lunch she recommended her to rest.</p> +<p>'I'm not in the least tired,' said Mary. 'I've got it all +arranged. I'm going to the village at two o'clock for some +paraffin. Nellie hasn't enough, and the walk will do me good.'</p> +<p>She made one last quest round the house before she started, and +found that she had overlooked nothing. It began to mist as soon as +she had skirted Vegg's Heath, where Wynn used to descend--it seemed +to her that she could almost hear the beat of his propellers +overhead, but there was nothing to see. She hoisted her umbrella +and lunged into the blind wet till she had reached the shelter of +the empty village. As she came out of Mr. Kidd's shop with a bottle +full of paraffin in her string shopping-bag, she met Nurse Eden, +the village nurse, and fell into talk with her, as usual, about the +village children. They were just parting opposite the 'Royal Oak,' +when a gun, they fancied, was fired immediately behind the house. +It was followed by a child's shriek dying into a wail.</p> +<p>'Accident!' said Nurse Eden promptly, and dashed through the +empty bar, followed by Mary. They found Mrs. Gerritt, the +publican's wife, who could only gasp and point to the yard, where a +little cart-lodge was sliding sideways amid a clatter of tiles. +Nurse Eden snatched up a sheet drying before the fire, ran out, +lifted something from the ground, and flung the sheet round it. The +sheet turned scarlet and half her uniform too, as she bore the load +into the kitchen. It was little Edna Gerritt, aged nine, whom Mary +had known since her perambulator days.</p> +<p>'Am I hurted bad?' Edna asked, and died between Nurse Eden's +dripping hands. The sheet fell aside and for an instant, before she +could shut her eyes, Mary saw the ripped and shredded body.</p> +<p>'It's a wonder she spoke at all,' said Nurse Eden. 'What in +God's name was it?'</p> +<p>'A bomb,' said Mary.</p> +<p>'One o' the Zeppelins?'</p> +<p>'No. An aeroplane. I thought I heard it on the Heath, but I +fancied it was one of ours. It must have shut off its engines as it +came down. That's why we didn't notice it.'</p> +<p>'The filthy pigs!' said Nurse Eden, all white and shaken. 'See +the pickle I'm in! Go and tell Dr. Hennis, Miss Postgate.' Nurse +looked at the mother, who had dropped face down on the floor. +'She's only in a fit. Turn her over.'</p> +<p>Mary heaved Mrs. Gerritt right side up, and hurried off for the +doctor. When she told her tale, he asked her to sit down in the +surgery till he got her something.</p> +<p>'But I don't need it, I assure you,' said she. 'I don't think it +would be wise to tell Miss Fowler about it, do you? Her heart is so +irritable in this weather.'</p> +<p>Dr. Hennis looked at her admiringly as he packed up his bag.</p> +<p>'No. Don't tell anybody till we're sure,' he said, and hastened +to the 'Royal Oak,' while Mary went on with the paraffin. The +village behind her was as quiet as usual, for the news had not yet +spread. She frowned a little to herself, her large nostrils +expanded uglily, and from time to time she muttered a phrase which +Wynn, who never restrained himself before his womenfolk, had +applied to the enemy. 'Bloody pagans! They <i>are</i> bloody +pagans. But,' she continued, falling back on the teaching that had +made her what she was, 'one mustn't let one's mind dwell on these +things.'</p> +<p>Before she reached the house Dr. Hennis, who was also a special +constable, overtook her in his car.</p> +<p>'Oh, Miss Postgate,' he said, 'I wanted to tell you that that +accident at the "Royal Oak" was due to Gerritt's stable tumbling +down. It's been dangerous for a long time. It ought to have been +condemned.'</p> +<p>'I thought I heard an explosion too,' said Mary.</p> +<p>'You might have been misled by the beams snapping. I've been +looking at 'em. They were dry-rotted through and through. Of +course, as they broke, they would make a noise just like a +gun.'</p> +<p>'Yes?' said Mary politely.</p> +<p>'Poor little Edna was playing underneath it,' he went on, still +holding her with his eyes, 'and that and the tiles cut her to +pieces, you see?'</p> +<p>'I saw it,' said Mary, shaking her head. 'I heard it too.'</p> +<p>'Well, we cannot be sure.' Dr. Hennis changed his tone +completely. 'I know both you and Nurse Eden (I've been speaking to +her) are perfectly trustworthy, and I can rely on you not to say +anything--yet at least. It is no good to stir up people +unless--'</p> +<p>'Oh, I never do--anyhow,' said Mary, and Dr. Hennis went on to +the county town.</p> +<p>After all, she told herself, it might, just possibly, have been +the collapse of the old stable that had done all those things to +poor little Edna. She was sorry she had even hinted at other +things, but Nurse Eden was discretion itself. By the time she +reached home the affair seemed increasingly remote by its very +monstrosity. As she came in, Miss Fowler told her that a couple of +aeroplanes had passed half an hour ago.</p> +<p>'I thought I heard them,' she replied, 'I'm going down to the +garden now. I've got the paraffin.'</p> +<p>'Yes, but--what <i>have</i> you got on your boots? They're +soaking wet. Change them at once.'</p> +<p>Not only did Mary obey but she wrapped the boots in a newspaper, +and put them into the string bag with the bottle. So, armed with +the longest kitchen poker, she left.</p> +<p>'It's raining again,' was Miss Fowler's last word, 'but--I know +you won't be happy till that's disposed of.'</p> +<p>'It won't take long. I've got everything down there, and I've +put the lid on the destructor to keep the wet out.'</p> +<p>The shrubbery was filling with twilight by the time she had +completed her arrangements and sprinkled the sacrificial oil. As +she lit the match that would burn her heart to ashes, she heard a +groan or a grunt behind the dense Portugal laurels.</p> +<p>'Cheape?' she called impatiently, but Cheape, with his ancient +lumbago, in his comfortable cottage would be the last man to +profane the sanctuary. 'Sheep,' she concluded, and threw in the +fusee. The pyre went up in a roar, and the immediate flame hastened +night around her.</p> +<p>'How Wynn would have loved this!' she thought, stepping back +from the blaze.</p> +<p>By its light she saw, half hidden behind a laurel not five paces +away, a bareheaded man sitting very stiffly at the foot of one of +the oaks. A broken branch lay across his lap--one booted leg +protruding from beneath it. His head moved ceaselessly from side to +side, but his body was as still as the tree's trunk. He was +dressed--she moved sideways to look more closely--in a uniform +something like Wynn's, with a flap buttoned across the chest. For +an instant, she had some idea that it might be one of the young +flying men she had met at the funeral. But their heads were dark +and glossy. This man's was as pale as a baby's, and so closely +cropped that she could see the disgusting pinky skin beneath. His +lips moved.</p> +<p>'What do you say?' Mary moved towards him and stooped.</p> +<p>'Laty! Laty! Laty!' he muttered, while his hands picked at the +dead wet leaves. There was no doubt as to his nationality. It made +her so angry that she strode back to the destructor, though it was +still too hot to use the poker there. Wynn's books seemed to be +catching well. She looked up at the oak behind the man; several of +the light upper and two or three rotten lower branches had broken +and scattered their rubbish on the shrubbery path. On the lowest +fork a helmet with dependent strings, showed like a bird's-nest in +the light of a long-tongued flame. Evidently this person had fallen +through the tree. Wynn had told her that it was quite possible for +people to fall out of aeroplanes. Wynn told her too, that trees +were useful things to break an aviator's fall, but in this case the +aviator must have been broken or he would have moved from his queer +position. He seemed helpless except for his horrible rolling head. +On the other hand, she could see a pistol case at his belt--and +Mary loathed pistols. Months ago, after reading certain Belgian +reports together, she and Miss Fowler had had dealings with one--a +huge revolver with flat-nosed bullets, which latter, Wynn said, +were forbidden by the rules of war to be used against civilised +enemies. 'They're good enough for us,' Miss Fowler had replied. +'Show Mary how it works.' And Wynn, laughing at the mere +possibility of any such need, had led the craven winking Mary into +the Rector's disused quarry, and had shown her how to fire the +terrible machine. It lay now in the top-left-hand drawer of her +toilet-table--a memento not included in the burning. Wynn would be +pleased to see how she was not afraid.</p> +<p>She slipped up to the house to get it. When she came through the +rain, the eyes in the head were alive with expectation. The mouth +even tried to smile. But at sight of the revolver its corners went +down just like Edna Gerritt's. A tear trickled from one eye, and +the head rolled from shoulder to shoulder as though trying to point +out something.</p> +<p>'Cassée. Tout cassée,' it whimpered.</p> +<p>'What do you say?' said Mary disgustedly, keeping well to one +side, though only the head moved.</p> +<p>'Cassée,' it repeated. 'Che me rends. Le médicin! +Toctor!'</p> +<p>'Nein!' said she, bringing all her small German to bear with the +big pistol. 'Ich haben der todt Kinder gesehn.'</p> +<p>The head was still. Mary's hand dropped. She had been careful to +keep her finger off the trigger for fear of accidents. After a few +moments' waiting, she returned to the destructor, where the flames +were falling, and churned up Wynn's charring books with the poker. +Again the head groaned for the doctor.</p> +<p>'Stop that!' said Mary, and stamped her foot. 'Stop that, you +bloody pagan!'</p> +<p>The words came quite smoothly and naturally. They were Wynn's +own words, and Wynn was a gentleman who for no consideration on +earth would have torn little Edna into those vividly coloured +strips and strings. But this thing hunched under the oak-tree had +done that thing. It was no question of reading horrors out of +newspapers to Miss Fowler. Mary had seen it with her own eyes on +the 'Royal Oak' kitchen table. She must not allow her mind to dwell +upon it. Now Wynn was dead, and everything connected with him was +lumping and rustling and tinkling under her busy poker into red +black dust and grey leaves of ash. The thing beneath the oak would +die too. Mary had seen death more than once. She came of a family +that had a knack of dying under, as she told Miss Fowler, 'most +distressing circumstances.' She would stay where she was till she +was entirely satisfied that It was dead--dead as dear papa in the +late 'eighties; aunt Mary in eighty-nine; mamma in 'ninety-one; +cousin Dick in ninety-five; Lady McCausland's housemaid in +'ninety-nine; Lady McCausland's sister in nineteen hundred and one; +Wynn buried five days ago; and Edna Gerritt still waiting for +decent earth to hide her. As she thought--her underlip caught up by +one faded canine, brows knit and nostrils wide--she wielded the +poker with lunges that jarred the grating at the bottom, and +careful scrapes round the brick-work above. She looked at her +wrist-watch. It was getting on to half-past four, and the rain was +coming down in earnest. Tea would be at five. If It did not die +before that time, she would be soaked and would have to change. +Meantime, and this occupied her, Wynn's things were burning well in +spite of the hissing wet, though now and again a book-back with a +quite distinguishable title would be heaved up out of the mass. The +exercise of stoking had given her a glow which seemed to reach to +the marrow of her bones. She hummed--Mary never had a voice--to +herself. She had never believed in all those advanced views--though +Miss Fowler herself leaned a little that way--of woman's work in +the world; but now she saw there was much to be said for them. +This, for instance, was <i>her</i> work--work which no man, least +of all Dr. Hennis, would ever have done. A man, at such a crisis, +would be what Wynn called a 'sportsman'; would leave everything to +fetch help, and would certainly bring It into the house. Now a +woman's business was to make a happy home for--for a husband and +children. Failing these--it was not a thing one should allow one's +mind to dwell upon--but--</p> +<p>'Stop it!' Mary cried once more across the shadows. 'Nein, I +tell you! Ich haben der todt Kinder gesehn.'</p> +<p><i>But</i> it was a fact. A woman who had missed these things +could still be useful--more useful than a man in certain respects. +She thumped like a pavior through the settling ashes at the secret +thrill of it. The rain was damping the fire, but she could feel--it +was too dark to see--that her work was done. There was a dull red +glow at the bottom of the destructor, not enough to char the wooden +lid if she slipped it half over against the driving wet. This +arranged, she leaned on the poker and waited, while an increasing +rapture laid hold on her. She ceased to think. She gave herself up +to feel. Her long pleasure was broken by a sound that she had +waited for in agony several times in her life. She leaned forward +and listened, smiling. There could be no mistake. She closed her +eyes and drank it in. Once it ceased abruptly.</p> +<p>'Go on,' she murmured, half aloud. 'That isn't the end.'</p> +<p>Then the end came very distinctly in a lull between two +rain-gusts. Mary Postgate drew her breath short between her teeth +and shivered from head to foot. '<i>That's</i> all right,' said she +contentedly, and went up to the house, where she scandalised the +whole routine by taking a luxurious hot bath before tea, and came +down looking, as Miss Fowler said when she saw her lying all +relaxed on the other sofa, 'quite handsome!'</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<a name="page443"></a> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i9"><b>THE BEGINNINGS</b></p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">It was not part of their blood,</p> +<p class="i8">It came to them very late</p> +<p class="i7">With long arrears to make good,</p> +<p class="i8">When the English began to hate.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">They were not easily moved,</p> +<p class="i8">They were icy willing to wait</p> +<p class="i7">Till every count should be proved,</p> +<p class="i8">Ere the English began to hate.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">Their voices were even and low,</p> +<p class="i8">Their eyes were level and straight.</p> +<p class="i7">There was neither sign nor show,</p> +<p class="i8">When the English began to hate.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">It was not preached to the crowd,</p> +<p class="i8">It was not taught by the State.</p> +<p class="i7">No man spoke it aloud,</p> +<p class="i8">When the English began to hate.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i7">It was not suddenly bred,</p> +<p class="i8">It will not swiftly abate,</p> +<p class="i7">Through the chill years ahead,</p> +<p class="i8">When Time shall count from the date</p> +<p class="i8">That the English began to hate.</p> +</div> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13085 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |