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diff --git a/1620-h/1620-h.htm b/1620-h/1620-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..790b51e --- /dev/null +++ b/1620-h/1620-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5112 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Lion and the Unicorn, by Richard Harding Davis</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify;} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Lion and the Unicorn and Other Stories, by Richard Harding Davis</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Lion and the Unicorn and Other Stories</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Richard Harding Davis</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January, 1999 [eBook #1620]<br /> +[Most recently updated: May 5, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Keller and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION AND THE UNICORN ***</div> + + <h1> + THE LION AND THE UNICORN + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Richard Harding Davis + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + IN MEMORY OF MANY HOT DAYS AND SOME HOT CORNERS + THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO + LT.-COL. ARTHUR H. LEE, R.A. + British Military Attache with the United States Army + </pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE LION AND THE UNICORN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> ON THE FEVER SHIP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE MAN WITH ONE TALENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE VAGRANT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE LION AND THE UNICORN + </h2> + <p> + Prentiss had a long lease on the house, and because it stood in Jermyn + Street the upper floors were, as a matter of course, turned into lodgings + for single gentlemen; and because Prentiss was a Florist to the Queen, he + placed a lion and unicorn over his flowershop, just in front of the middle + window on the first floor. By stretching a little, each of them could see + into the window just beyond him, and could hear all that was said inside; + and such things as they saw and heard during the reign of Captain + Carrington, who moved in at the same time they did! By day the table in + the centre of the room was covered with maps, and the Captain sat with a + box of pins, with different-colored flags wrapped around them, and amused + himself by sticking them in the maps and measuring the spaces in between, + swearing meanwhile to himself. It was a selfish amusement, but it appeared + to be the Captain’s only intellectual pursuit, for at night, the maps were + rolled up, and a green cloth was spread across the table, and there was + much company and popping of soda-bottles, and little heaps of gold and + silver were moved this way and that across the cloth. The smoke drifted + out of the open windows, and the laughter of the Captain’s guests rang out + loudly in the empty street, so that the policeman halted and raised his + eyes reprovingly to the lighted windows, and cabmen drew up beneath them + and lay in wait, dozing on their folded arms, for the Captain’s guests to + depart. The Lion and the Unicorn were rather ashamed of the scandal of it, + and they were glad when, one day, the Captain went away with his tin boxes + and gun-cases piled high on a four-wheeler. + </p> + <p> + Prentiss stood on the sidewalk and said: “I wish you good luck, sir.” And + the Captain said: “I’m coming back a Major, Prentiss.” But he never came + back. And one day—the Lion remembered the day very well, for on that + same day the newsboys ran up and down Jermyn Street shouting out the news + of “a ’orrible disaster” to the British arms. It was then that a young + lady came to the door in a hansom, and Prentiss went out to meet her and + led her upstairs. They heard him unlock the Captain’s door and say, “This + is his room, miss,” and after he had gone they watched her standing quite + still by the centre table. She stood there for a very long time looking + slowly about her, and then she took a photograph of the Captain from the + frame on the mantel and slipped it into her pocket, and when she went out + again her veil was down, and she was crying. She must have given Prentiss + as much as a sovereign, for he called her “Your ladyship,” which he never + did under a sovereign. + </p> + <p> + And she drove off, and they never saw her again either, nor could they + hear the address she gave the cabman. But it was somewhere up St. John’s + Wood way. + </p> + <p> + After that the rooms were empty for some months, and the Lion and the + Unicorn were forced to amuse themselves with the beautiful ladies and + smart-looking men who came to Prentiss to buy flowers and “buttonholes,” + and the little round baskets of strawberries, and even the peaches at + three shillings each, which looked so tempting as they lay in the window, + wrapped up in cotton-wool, like jewels of great price. + </p> + <p> + Then Philip Carroll, the American gentleman, came, and they heard Prentiss + telling him that those rooms had always let for five guineas a week, which + they knew was not true; but they also knew that in the economy of nations + there must always be a higher price for the rich American, or else why was + he given that strange accent, except to betray him into the hands of the + London shopkeeper, and the London cabby? + </p> + <p> + The American walked to the window toward the west, which was the window + nearest the Lion, and looked out into the graveyard of St. James’s Church, + that stretched between their street and Piccadilly. + </p> + <p> + “You’re lucky in having a bit of green to look out on,” he said to + Prentiss. “I’ll take these rooms—at five guineas. That’s more than + they’re worth, you know, but as I know it, too, your conscience needn’t + trouble you.” + </p> + <p> + Then his eyes fell on the Lion, and he nodded to him gravely. “How do you + do?” he said. “I’m coming to live with you for a little time. I have read + about you and your friends over there. It is a hazard of new fortunes with + me, your Majesty, so be kind to me, and if I win, I will put a new coat of + paint on your shield and gild you all over again.” + </p> + <p> + Prentiss smiled obsequiously at the American’s pleasantry, but the new + lodger only stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “He seemed a social gentleman,” said the Unicorn, that night, when the + Lion and he were talking it over. “Now the Captain, the whole time he was + here, never gave us so much as a look. This one says he has read of us.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” growled the Lion. “I hope Prentiss heard what he said of + our needing a new layer of gilt. It’s disgraceful. You can see that Lion + over Scarlett’s, the butcher, as far as Regent Street, and Scarlett is + only one of Salisbury’s creations. He received his Letters-Patent only two + years back. We date from Palmerston.” + </p> + <p> + The lodger came up the street just at that moment, and stopped and looked + up at the Lion and the Unicorn from the sidewalk, before he opened the + door with his night-key. They heard him enter the room and feel on the + mantel for his pipe, and a moment later he appeared at the Lion’s window + and leaned on the sill, looking down into the street below and blowing + whiffs of smoke up into the warm night-air. + </p> + <p> + It was a night in June, and the pavements were dry under foot and the + streets were filled with well-dressed people, going home from the play, + and with groups of men in black and white, making their way to supper at + the clubs. Hansoms of inky-black, with shining lamps inside and out, + dashed noiselessly past on mysterious errands, chasing close on each + other’s heels on a mad race, each to its separate goal. From the cross + streets rose the noises of early night, the rumble of the ’buses, the + creaking of their brakes, as they unlocked, the cries of the “extras,” and + the merging of thousands of human voices in a dull murmur. The great world + of London was closing its shutters for the night, and putting out the + lights; and the new lodger from across the sea listened to it with his + heart beating quickly, and laughed to stifle the touch of fear and + homesickness that rose in him. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen a great play to-night,” he said to the Lion, “nobly played by + great players. What will they care for my poor wares? I see that I have + been over-bold. But we cannot go back now—not yet.” + </p> + <p> + He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and nodded “good-night” to the great + world beyond his window. “What fortunes lie with ye, ye lights of London + town?” he quoted, smiling. And they heard him close the door of his + bedroom, and lock it for the night. + </p> + <p> + The next morning he bought many geraniums from Prentiss and placed them + along the broad cornice that stretched across the front of the house over + the shop window. The flowers made a band of scarlet on either side of the + Lion as brilliant as a Tommy’s jacket. + </p> + <p> + “I am trying to propitiate the British Lion by placing flowers before his + altar,” the American said that morning to a visitor. + </p> + <p> + “The British public you mean,” said the visitor; “they are each likely to + tear you to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have heard that the pit on the first night of a bad play is + something awful,” hazarded the American. + </p> + <p> + “Wait and see,” said the visitor. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the American, meekly. + </p> + <p> + Every one who came to the first floor front talked about a play. It seemed + to be something of great moment to the American. It was only a bundle of + leaves printed in red and black inks and bound in brown paper covers. + There were two of them, and the American called them by different names: + one was his comedy and one was his tragedy. + </p> + <p> + “They are both likely to be tragedies,” the Lion heard one of the visitors + say to another, as they drove away together. “Our young friend takes it + too seriously.” + </p> + <p> + The American spent most of his time by his desk at the window writing on + little blue pads and tearing up what he wrote, or in reading over one of + the plays to himself in a loud voice. In time the number of his visitors + increased, and to some of these he would read his play; and after they had + left him he was either depressed and silent or excited and jubilant. The + Lion could always tell when he was happy because then he would go to the + side table and pour himself out a drink and say, “Here’s to me,” but when + he was depressed he would stand holding the glass in his hand, and finally + pour the liquor back into the bottle again and say, “What’s the use of + that?” + </p> + <p> + After he had been in London a month he wrote less and was more frequently + abroad, sallying forth in beautiful raiment, and coming home by daylight. + </p> + <p> + And he gave suppers too, but they were less noisy than the Captain’s had + been, and the women who came to them were much more beautiful, and their + voices when they spoke were sweet and low. Sometimes one of the women + sang, and the men sat in silence while the people in the street below + stopped to listen, and would say, “Why, that is So-and-So singing,” and + the Lion and the Unicorn wondered how they could know who it was when they + could not see her. + </p> + <p> + The lodger’s visitors came to see him at all hours. They seemed to regard + his rooms as a club, where they could always come for a bite to eat or to + write notes; and others treated it like a lawyer’s office and asked advice + on all manner of strange subjects. Sometimes the visitor wanted to know + whether the American thought she ought to take £10 a week and go on tour, + or stay in town and try to live on £8; or whether she should paint + landscapes that would not sell, or racehorses that would; or whether + Reggie really loved her and whether she really loved Reggie; or whether + the new part in the piece at the Court was better than the old part at + Terry’s, and wasn’t she getting too old to play “ingenues” anyway. + </p> + <p> + The lodger seemed to be a general adviser, and smoked and listened with + grave consideration, and the Unicorn thought his judgment was most + sympathetic and sensible. + </p> + <p> + Of all the beautiful ladies who came to call on the lodger the one the + Unicorn liked the best was the one who wanted to know whether she loved + Reggie and whether Reggie loved her. She discussed this so interestingly + while she consumed tea and thin slices of bread that the Unicorn almost + lost his balance in leaning forward to listen. Her name was Marion + Cavendish and it was written over many photographs which stood in silver + frames in the lodger’s rooms. She used to make the tea herself, while the + lodger sat and smoked; and she had a fascinating way of doubling the thin + slices of bread into long strips and nibbling at them like a mouse at a + piece of cheese. She had wonderful little teeth and Cupid’s-bow lips, and + she had a fashion of lifting her veil only high enough for one to see the + two Cupid-bow lips. When she did that the American used to laugh, at + nothing apparently, and say, “Oh, I guess Reggie loves you well enough.” + </p> + <p> + “But do I love Reggie?” she would ask sadly, with her tea-cup held poised + in air. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I hope not,” the lodger would reply, and she would put down the + veil quickly, as one would drop a curtain over a beautiful picture, and + rise with great dignity and say, “if you talk like that I shall not come + again.” + </p> + <p> + She was sure that if she could only get some work to do her head would be + filled with more important matters than whether Reggie loved her or not. + </p> + <p> + “But the managers seem inclined to cut their cavendish very fine just at + present,” she said. “If I don’t get a part soon,” she announced, “I shall + ask Mitchell to put me down on the list for recitations at evening + parties.” + </p> + <p> + “That seems a desperate revenge,” said the American; “and besides, I don’t + want you to get a part, because some one might be idiotic enough to take + my comedy, and if he should, you must play Nancy.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not ask for any salary if I could play Nancy,” Miss Cavendish + answered. + </p> + <p> + They spoke of a great many things, but their talk always ended by her + saying that there must be some one with sufficient sense to see that his + play was a great play, and by his saying that none but she must play + Nancy. + </p> + <p> + The Lion preferred the tall girl with masses and folds of brown hair, who + came from America to paint miniatures of the British aristocracy. Her name + was Helen Cabot, and he liked her because she was so brave and fearless, + and so determined to be independent of every one, even of the lodger—especially + of the lodger, who it appeared had known her very well at home. The + lodger, they gathered, did not wish her to be independent of him and the + two Americans had many arguments and disputes about it, but she always + said, “It does no good, Philip; it only hurts us both when you talk so. I + care for nothing, and for no one but my art, and, poor as it is, it means + everything to me, and you do not, and, of course, the man I am to marry, + must.” Then Carroll would talk, walking up and down, and looking very + fierce and determined, and telling her how he loved her in such a way that + it made her look even more proud and beautiful. And she would say more + gently, “It is very fine to think that any one can care for like that, and + very helpful. But unless I cared in the same way it would be wicked of me + to marry you, and besides—” She would add very quickly to prevent + his speaking again—“I don’t want to marry you or anybody, and I + never shall. I want to be free and to succeed in my work, just as you want + to succeed in your work. So please never speak of this again.” When she + went away the lodger used to sit smoking in the big arm-chair and beat the + arms with his hands, and he would pace up and down the room while his work + would lie untouched and his engagements pass forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Summer came and London was deserted, dull, and dusty, but the lodger + stayed on in Jermyn Street. Helen Cabot had departed on a round of visits + to country houses in Scotland, where, as she wrote him, she was painting + miniatures of her hosts and studying the game of golf. Miss Cavendish + divided her days between the river and one of the West End theatres. She + was playing a small part in a farce-comedy. + </p> + <p> + One day she came up from Cookham earlier than usual, looking very + beautiful in a white boating frock and a straw hat with a Leander ribbon. + Her hands and arms were hard with dragging a punting pole and she was + sunburnt and happy, and hungry for tea. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you come down to Cookham and get out of this heat?” Miss + Cavendish asked. “You need it; you look ill.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to, but I can’t,” said Carroll. “The fact is, I paid in advance + for these rooms, and if I lived anywhere else I’d be losing five guineas a + week on them.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish regarded him severely. She had never quite mastered his + American humor. + </p> + <p> + “But five guineas—why that’s nothing to you,” she said. Something in + the lodger’s face made her pause. “You don’t mean——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do,” said the lodger, smiling. “You see, I started in to lay siege + to London without sufficient ammunition. London is a large town, and it + didn’t fall as quickly as I thought it would. So I am economizing. Mr. + Lockhart’s Coffee Rooms and I are no longer strangers.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish put down her cup of tea untasted and leaned toward him + </p> + <p> + “Are you in earnest?” she asked. “For how long?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, for the last month,” replied the lodger; “they are not at all bad—clean + and wholesome and all that.” + </p> + <p> + “But the suppers you gave us, and this,” she cried, suddenly, waving her + hands over the pretty tea-things, “and the cake and muffins?” + </p> + <p> + “My friends, at least,” said Carroll, “need not go to Lockhart’s.” + </p> + <p> + “And the Savoy?” asked Miss Cavendish, mournfully shaking her head. + </p> + <p> + “A dream of the past,” said Carroll, waving his pipe through the smoke. + “Gatti’s? Yes, on special occasions; but for necessity, the Chancellor’s, + where one gets a piece of the prime roast beef of Old England, from + Chicago, and potatoes for ninepence—a pot of bitter + twopence-halfpenny, and a penny for the waiter. It’s most amusing on the + whole. I am learning a little about London, and some things about myself. + They are both most interesting subjects.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t like it,” Miss Cavendish declared helplessly. “When I think + of those suppers and the flowers, I feel—I feel like a robber.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t,” begged Carroll. “I am really the most happy of men—that is, + as the chap says in the play, I would be if I wasn’t so damned miserable. + But I owe no man a penny and I have assets—I have £80 to last me + through the winter and two marvellous plays; and I love, next to yourself, + the most wonderful woman God ever made. That’s enough.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought you made such a lot of money by writing?” asked Miss + Cavendish. + </p> + <p> + “I do—that is, I could,” answered Carroll, “if I wrote the things + that sell; but I keep on writing plays that won’t.” + </p> + <p> + “And such plays!” exclaimed Marion, warmly; “and to think that they are + going begging.” She continued indignantly, “I can’t imagine what the + managers do want.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what they don’t want,” said the American. Miss Cavendish drummed + impatiently on the tea-tray. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you wouldn’t be so abject about it,” she said. “If I were a man + I’d make them take those plays.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” asked the American; “with a gun?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’d keep at it until they read them,” declared Marion. “I’d sit on + their front steps all night and I’d follow them in cabs, and I’d lie in + wait for them at the stage-door. I’d just make them take them.” + </p> + <p> + Carroll sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I guess I’ll give up and go + home,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, do, run away before you are beaten,” said Miss Cavendish, + scornfully. “Why, you can’t go now. Everybody will be back in town soon, + and there are a lot of new plays coming on, and some of them are sure to + be failures, and that’s our chance. You rush in with your piece and + somebody may take it sooner than close the theatre.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m thinking of closing the theatre myself,” said Carroll. “What’s the + use of my hanging on here?” he exclaimed. “It distresses Helen to know I + am in London, feeling about her as I do—and the Lord only knows how + it distresses me. And, maybe, if I went away,” he said, consciously, “she + might miss me. She might see the difference.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish held herself erect and pressed her lips together with a + severe smile. “If Helen Cabot doesn’t see the difference between you and + the other men she knows now,” she said, “I doubt if she ever will. Besides—” + she continued, and then hesitated. “Well, go on,” urged Carroll. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I was only going to say,” she explained, “that leaving the girl + alone never did the man any good unless he left her alone willingly. If + she’s sure he still cares, it’s just the same to her where he is. He might + as well stay on in London as go to South Africa. It won’t help him any. + The difference comes when she finds he has stopped caring. Why, look at + Reggie. He tried that. He went away for ever so long, but he kept writing + me from wherever he went, so that he was perfectly miserable—and I + went on enjoying myself. Then when he came back, he tried going about with + his old friends again. He used to come to the theatre with them—oh, + with such nice girls—but he always stood in the back of the box and + yawned and scowled—so I knew. And, anyway, he’d always spoil it all + by leaving them and waiting at the stage entrance for me. But one day he + got tired of the way I treated him and went off on a bicycle tour with + Lady Hacksher’s girls and some men from his regiment, and he was gone + three weeks and never sent me even a line; and I got so scared; I couldn’t + sleep, and I stood it for three days more, and then I wired him to come + back or I’d jump off London Bridge; and he came back that very night from + Edinburgh on the express, and I was so glad to see him that I got + confused, and in the general excitement I promised to marry him, so that’s + how it was with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the American, without enthusiasm; “but then I still care, and + Helen knows I care.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn’t she ever fancy that you might care for some one else? You have a + lot of friends, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but she knows they are just that—friends,” said the American. + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish stood up to go, and arranged her veil before the mirror + above the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + “I come here very often to tea,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “It’s very kind of you,” said Carroll. He was at the open window, looking + down into the street for a cab. + </p> + <p> + “Well, no one knows I am engaged to Reggie,” continued Miss Cavendish, + “except you and Reggie, and he isn’t so sure. SHE doesn’t know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Carroll. + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish smiled a mischievous kindly smile at him from the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she repeated, mockingly. Carroll stared at her and laughed. After + a pause he said: “It’s like a plot in a comedy. But I’m afraid I’m too + serious for play-acting.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is serious,” said Miss Cavendish. She seated herself again and + regarded the American thoughtfully. “You are too good a man to be treated + the way that girl is treating you, and no one knows it better than she + does. She’ll change in time, but just now she thinks she wants to be + independent. She’s in love with this picture-painting idea, and with the + people she meets. It’s all new to her—the fuss they make over her + and the titles, and the way she is asked about. We know she can’t paint. + We know they only give her commissions because she’s so young and pretty, + and American. She amuses them, that’s all. Well, that cannot last; she’ll + find it out. She’s too clever a girl, and she is too fine a girl to be + content with that long. Then—then she’ll come back to you. She feels + now that she has both you and the others, and she’s making you wait: so + wait and be cheerful. She’s worth waiting for; she’s young, that’s all. + She’ll see the difference in time. But, in the meanwhile, it would hurry + matters a bit if she thought she had to choose between the new friends and + you.” + </p> + <p> + “She could still keep her friends, and marry me,” said Carroll; “I have + told her that a hundred times. She could still paint miniatures and marry + me. But she won’t marry me.” + </p> + <p> + “She won’t marry you because she knows she can whenever she wants to;” + cried Marion. “Can’t you see that? But if she thought you were going to + marry some one else now?” + </p> + <p> + “She would be the first to congratulate me,” said Carroll. He rose and + walked to the fireplace, where he leaned with his arm on the mantel. There + was a photograph of Helen Cabot near his hand, and he turned this toward + him and stood for some time staring at it. “My dear Marion,” he said at + last, “I’ve known Helen ever since she was as young as that. Every year + I’ve loved her more, and found new things in her to care for; now I love + her more than any other man ever loved any other woman.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish shook her head sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” she said; “that’s the way Reggie loves me, too.” + </p> + <p> + Carroll went on as though he had not heard her. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a bench in St. James’s Park,” he said, “where we used to sit when + she first came here, when she didn’t know so many people. We used to go + there in the morning and throw penny buns to the ducks. That’s been my + amusement this summer since you’ve all been away—sitting on that + bench, feeding penny buns to the silly ducks—especially the black + one, the one she used to like best. And I make pilgrimages to all the + other places we ever visited together, and try to pretend she is with me. + And I support the crossing sweeper at Lansdowne Passage because she once + said she felt sorry for him. I do all the other absurd things that a man + in love tortures himself by doing. But to what end? She knows how I care, + and yet she won’t see why we can’t go on being friends as we once were. + What’s the use of it all?” + </p> + <p> + “She is young, I tell you,” repeated Miss Cavendish, “and she’s too sure + of you. You’ve told her you care; now try making her think you don’t + care.” + </p> + <p> + Carroll shook his head impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “I will not stoop to such tricks and pretence, Marion,” he cried + impatiently. “All I have is my love for her; if I have to cheat and to + trap her into caring, the whole thing would be degraded.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cavendish shrugged her shoulders and walked to the door. “Such + amateurs!” she exclaimed, and banged the door after her. + </p> + <p> + Carroll never quite knew how he had come to make a confidante of Miss + Cavendish. Helen and he had met her when they first arrived in London, and + as she had acted for a season in the United States, she adopted the two + Americans—and told Helen where to go for boots and hats, and advised + Carroll about placing his plays. Helen soon made other friends, and + deserted the artists, with whom her work had first thrown her. She seemed + to prefer the society of the people who bought her paintings, and who + admired and made much of the painter. As she was very beautiful and at an + age when she enjoyed everything in life keenly and eagerly, to give her + pleasure was in itself a distinct pleasure; and the worldly tired people + she met were considering their own entertainment quite as much as hers + when they asked her to their dinners and dances, or to spend a week with + them in the country. In her way, she was as independent as was Carroll in + his, and as she was not in love, as he was, her life was not narrowed down + to but one ideal. But she was not so young as to consider herself + infallible, and she had one excellent friend on whom she was dependent for + advice and to whose directions she submitted implicitly. This was Lady + Gower, the only person to whom Helen had spoken of Carroll and of his + great feeling for her. Lady Gower, immediately after her marriage, had + been a conspicuous and brilliant figure in that set in London which works + eighteen hours a day to keep itself amused, but after the death of her + husband she had disappeared into the country as completely as though she + had entered a convent, and after several years had then re-entered the + world as a professional philanthropist. Her name was now associated + entirely with Women’s Leagues, with committees that presented petitions to + Parliament, and with public meetings, at which she spoke with marvellous + ease and effect. Her old friends said she had taken up this new pose as an + outlet for her nervous energies, and as an effort to forget the man who + alone had made life serious to her. Others knew her as an earnest woman, + acting honestly for what she thought was right. Her success, all admitted, + was due to her knowledge of the world and to her sense of humor, which + taught her with whom to use her wealth and position, and when to demand + what she wanted solely on the ground that the cause was just. + </p> + <p> + She had taken more than a fancy for Helen, and the position of the + beautiful, motherless girl had appealed to her as one filled with dangers. + When she grew to know Helen better, she recognized that these fears were + quite unnecessary, and as she saw more of her she learned to care for her + deeply. Helen had told her much of Carroll and of his double purpose in + coming to London; of his brilliant work and his lack of success in having + it recognized; and of his great and loyal devotion to her, and of his lack + of success, not in having that recognized, but in her own inability to + return it. Helen was proud that she had been able to make Carroll care for + her as he did, and that there was anything about her which could inspire a + man whom she admired so much, to believe in her so absolutely and for so + long a time. But what convinced her that the outcome for which he hoped + was impossible, was the very fact that she could admire him, and see how + fine and unselfish his love for her was, and yet remain untouched by it. + </p> + <p> + She had been telling Lady Gower one day of the care he had taken of her + ever since she was fourteen years of age, and had quoted some of the + friendly and loverlike acts he had performed in her service, until one day + they had both found out that his attitude of the elder brother was no + longer possible, and that he loved her in the old and only way. Lady Gower + looked at her rather doubtfully and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would bring him to see me, Helen” she said; “I think I should + like your friend very much. From what you tell me of him I doubt if you + will find many such men waiting for you in this country. Our men marry for + reasons of property, or they love blindly, and are exacting and selfish + before and after they are married. I know, because so many women came to + me when my husband was alive to ask how it was that I continued so happy + in my married life.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t want to marry any one,” Helen remonstrated gently. “American + girls are not always thinking only of getting married.” + </p> + <p> + “What I meant was this,” said Lady Gower, “that, in my experience, I have + heard of but few men who care in the way this young man seems to care for + you. You say you do not love him; but if he had wanted to gain my + interest, he could not have pleaded his cause better than you have done. + He seems to see your faults and yet love you still, in spite of them—or + on account of them. And I like the things he does for you. I like, for + instance, his sending you the book of the moment every week for two years. + That shows a most unswerving spirit of devotion. And the story of the + broken bridge in the woods is a wonderful story. If I were a young girl, I + could love a man for that alone. It was a beautiful thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + Helen sat with her chin on her hands, deeply considering this new point of + view. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it very foolish of him,” she confessed questioningly, “to take + such a risk for such a little thing.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Gower smiled down at her from the height of her many years. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she said dryly, “you are very young now—and very rich; every + one is crowding to give you pleasure, to show his admiration. You are a + very fortunate girl. But later, these things which some man has done + because he loved you, and which you call foolish, will grow large in your + life, and shine out strongly, and when you are discouraged and alone, you + will take them out, and the memory of them will make you proud and happy. + They are the honors which women wear in secret.” + </p> + <p> + Helen came back to town in September, and for the first few days was so + occupied in refurnishing her studio and in visiting the shops that she + neglected to send Carroll word of her return. When she found that a whole + week had passed without her having made any effort to see him, and + appreciated how the fact would hurt her friend, she was filled with + remorse, and drove at once in great haste to Jermyn Street, to announce + her return in person. On the way she decided that she would soften the + blow of her week of neglect by asking him to take her out to luncheon. + This privilege she had once or twice accorded him, and she felt that the + pleasure these excursions gave Carroll were worth the consternation they + caused to Lady Gower. + </p> + <p> + The servant was uncertain whether Mr. Carroll was at home or not, but + Helen was too intent upon making restitution to wait for the fact to be + determined, and, running up the stairs, knocked sharply at the door of his + study. + </p> + <p> + A voice bade her come in, and she entered, radiant and smiling her + welcome. But Carroll was not there to receive it, and instead, Marion + Cavendish looked up at her from his desk where she was busily writing. + Helen paused with a surprised laugh, but Marion sprang up and hailed her + gladly. They met half way across the room and kissed each other with the + most friendly feeling. + </p> + <p> + Philip was out, Marion said, and she had just stepped in for a moment to + write him a note. If Helen would excuse her, she would finish it, as she + was late for rehearsal. + </p> + <p> + But she asked over her shoulder, with great interest, if Helen had passed + a pleasant summer. She thought she had never seen her looking so well. + Helen thought Miss Cavendish herself was looking very well also, but + Marion said no; that she was too sunburnt, she would not be able to wear a + dinner-dress for a month. There was a pause while Marion’s quill scratched + violently across Carroll’s note-paper. Helen felt that in some way she was + being treated as an intruder; or worse, as a guest. She did not sit down, + it seemed impossible to do so, but she moved uncertainly about the room. + She noted that there were many changes, it seemed more bare and empty; her + picture was still on the writing-desk, but there were at least six new + photographs of Marion. Marion herself had brought them to the room that + morning, and had carefully arranged them in conspicuous places. But Helen + could not know that. She thought there was an unnecessary amount of + writing scribbled over the face of each. + </p> + <p> + Marion addressed her letter and wrote “Immediate” across the envelope, and + placed it before the clock on the mantelshelf. “You will find Philip + looking very badly,” she said, as she pulled on her gloves. “He has been + in town all summer, working very hard—he has had no holiday at all. + I don’t think he’s well. I have been a great deal worried about him,” she + added. Her face was bent over the buttons of her glove, and when she + raised her blue eyes to Helen they were filled with serious concern. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” Helen stammered, “I—I didn’t know—in his letters he + seemed very cheerful.” + </p> + <p> + Marion shook her head and turned and stood looking thoughtfully out of the + window. “He’s in a very hard place,” she began abruptly, and then stopped + as though she had thought better of what she intended to say. Helen tried + to ask her to go on, but could not bring herself to do so. She wanted to + get away. + </p> + <p> + “I tell him he ought to leave London,” Marion began again; “he needs a + change and a rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think he might,” Helen agreed, “after three months of this heat. + He wrote me he intended going to Herne Bay or over to Ostend.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he had meant to go,” Marion answered. She spoke with the air of one + who possessed the most intimate knowledge of Carroll’s movements and + plans, and change of plans. “But he couldn’t,” she added. “He couldn’t + afford it. Helen,” she said, turning to the other girl, dramatically, “do + you know—I believe that Philip is very poor.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cabot exclaimed incredulously, “Poor!” She laughed. “Why, what do you + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that he has no money,” Marion answered, sharply. “These rooms + represent nothing. He only keeps them on because he paid for them in + advance. He’s been living on three shillings a day. That’s poor for him. + He takes his meals at cabmen’s shelters and at Lockhart’s, and he’s been + doing so for a month.” + </p> + <p> + Helen recalled with a guilty thrill the receipt of certain boxes of La + France roses—cut long, in the American fashion—which had + arrived within the last month at various country houses. She felt + indignant at herself, and miserable. Her indignation was largely due to + the recollection that she had given these flowers to her hostess to + decorate the dinner-table. + </p> + <p> + She hated to ask this girl of things which she should have known better + than any one else. But she forced herself to do it. She felt she must know + certainly and at once. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know this?” she asked. “Are you sure there is no mistake?” + </p> + <p> + “He told me himself,” said Marion, “when he talked of letting the plays go + and returning to America. He said he must go back; that his money was + gone.” + </p> + <p> + “He is gone to America!” Helen said, blankly. + </p> + <p> + “No, he wanted to go, but I wouldn’t let him,” Marion went on. “I told him + that some one might take his play any day. And this third one he has + written, the one he finished this summer in town, is the best of all, I + think. It’s a love-story. It’s quite beautiful.” She turned and arranged + her veil at the glass, and as she did so, her eyes fell on the photographs + of herself scattered over the mantelpiece, and she smiled slightly. But + Helen did not see her—she was sitting down now, pulling at the books + on the table. She was confused and disturbed by emotions which were quite + strange to her, and when Marion bade her good-by she hardly noticed her + departure. What impressed her most of all in what Marion had told her, + was, she was surprised to find, that Philip was going away. That she + herself had frequently urged him to do so, for his own peace of mind, + seemed now of no consequence. Now that he seriously contemplated it, she + recognized that his absence meant to her a change in everything. She felt + for the first time the peculiar place he held in her life. Even if she had + seen him but seldom, the fact that he was within call had been more of a + comfort and a necessity to her than she understood. + </p> + <p> + That he was poor, concerned her chiefly because she knew that, although + this condition could only be but temporary, it would distress him not to + have his friends around him, and to entertain them as he had been used to + do. She wondered eagerly if she might offer to help him, but a second + thought assured her that, for a man, that sort of help from a woman was + impossible. + </p> + <p> + She resented the fact that Marion was deep in his confidence; that it was + Marion who had told her of his changed condition and of his plans. It + annoyed her so acutely that she could not remain in the room where she had + seen her so complacently in possession. And after leaving a brief note for + Philip, she went away. She stopped a hansom at the door, and told the man + to drive along the Embankment—she wanted to be quite alone, and she + felt she could see no one until she had thought it all out, and had + analyzed the new feelings. + </p> + <p> + So for several hours she drove slowly up and down, sunk far back in the + cushions of the cab, and staring with unseeing eyes at the white enamelled + tariff and the black dash-board. + </p> + <p> + She assured herself that she was not jealous of Marion, because, in order + to be jealous, she first would have to care for Philip in the very way she + could not bring herself to do. + </p> + <p> + She decided that his interest in Marion hurt her, because it showed that + Philip was not capable of remaining true to the one ideal of his life. She + was sure that this explained her feelings—she was disappointed that + he had not kept up to his own standard; that he was weak enough to turn + aside from it for the first pretty pair of eyes. But she was too honest + and too just to accept that diagnosis of her feelings as final—she + knew there had been many pairs of eyes in America and in London, and that + though Philip had seen them, he had not answered them when they spoke. No, + she confessed frankly, she was hurt with herself for neglecting her old + friend so selfishly and for so long a time; his love gave him claims on + her consideration, at least, and she had forgotten that and him, and had + run after strange gods and allowed others to come in and take her place, + and to give him the sympathy and help which she should have been the first + to offer, and which would have counted more when coming from her than from + any one else. She determined to make amends at once for her + thoughtlessness and selfishness, and her brain was pleasantly occupied + with plans and acts of kindness. It was a new entertainment, and she found + she delighted in it. She directed the cabman to go to Solomons’s, and from + there sent Philip a bunch of flowers and a line saying that on the + following day she was coming to take tea with him. She had a guilty + feeling that he might consider her friendly advances more seriously than + she meant them, but it was her pleasure to be reckless: her feelings were + running riotously, and the sensation was so new that she refused to be + circumspect or to consider consequences. Who could tell, she asked herself + with a quick, frightened gasp, but that, after all, it might be that she + was learning to care? From Solomons’s she bade the man drive to the shop + in Cranbourne Street where she was accustomed to purchase the materials + she used in painting, and Fate, which uses strange agents to work out its + ends, so directed it that the cabman stopped a few doors below this shop, + and opposite one where jewelry and other personal effects were bought and + sold. At any other time, or had she been in any other mood, what followed + might not have occurred, but Fate, in the person of the cabman, arranged + it so that the hour and the opportunity came together. + </p> + <p> + There were some old mezzotints in the window of the loan shop, a string of + coins and medals, a row of new French posters; and far down to the front a + tray filled with gold and silver cigarette-cases and watches and rings. It + occurred to Helen, who was still bent on making restitution for her + neglect, that a cigarette-case would be more appropriate for a man than + flowers, and more lasting. And she scanned the contents of the window with + the eye of one who now saw in everything only something which might give + Philip pleasure. The two objects of value in the tray upon which her eyes + first fell were the gold seal-ring with which Philip had sealed his + letters to her, and, lying next to it, his gold watch! There was something + almost human in the way the ring and watch spoke to her from the past—in + the way they appealed to her to rescue them from the surroundings to which + they had been abandoned. She did not know what she meant to do with them + nor how she could return them to Philip; but there was no question of + doubt in her manner as she swept with a rush into the shop. There was no + attempt, either, at bargaining in the way in which she pointed out to the + young woman behind the counter the particular ring and watch she wanted. + They had not been left as collateral, the young woman said; they had been + sold outright. + </p> + <p> + “Then any one can buy them?” Helen asked eagerly. “They are for sale to + the public—to any one?” + </p> + <p> + The young woman made note of the customer’s eagerness, but with an unmoved + countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss, they are for sale. The ring is four pounds and the watch + twenty-five.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine pounds!” Helen gasped. + </p> + <p> + That was more money than she had in the world, but the fact did not + distress her, for she had a true artistic disregard for ready money, and + the absence of it had never disturbed her. But now it assumed a sudden and + alarming value. She had ten pounds in her purse and ten pounds at her + studio—these were just enough to pay for a quarter’s rent and the + rates, and there was a hat and cloak in Bond Street which she certainly + must have. Her only assets consisted of the possibility that some one + might soon order a miniature, and to her mind that was sufficient. Some + one always had ordered a miniature, and there was no reasonable doubt but + that some one would do it again. For a moment she questioned if it would + not be sufficient if she bought the ring and allowed the watch to remain. + But she recognized that the ring meant more to her than the watch, while + the latter, as an old heirloom which had been passed down to him from a + great-grandfather, meant more to Philip. It was for Philip she was doing + this, she reminded herself. She stood holding his possessions, one in each + hand, and looking at the young woman blankly. She had no doubt in her mind + that at least part of the money he had received for them had paid for the + flowers he had sent to her in Scotland. The certainty of this left her no + choice. She laid the ring and watch down and pulled the only ring she + possessed from her own finger. It was a gift from Lady Gower. She had no + doubt that it was of great value. + </p> + <p> + “Can you lend me some money on that?” she asked. It was the first time she + had conducted a business transaction of this nature, and she felt as + though she were engaging in a burglary. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t lend money, miss,” the girl said, “we buy outright. I can give + you twenty-eight shillings for this,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight shillings,” Helen gasped; “why, it is worth—oh, ever + so much more than that!” + </p> + <p> + “That is all it is worth to us,” the girl answered. She regarded the ring + indifferently and laid it away from her on the counter. The action was + final. + </p> + <p> + Helen’s hands rose slowly to her breast, where a pretty watch dangled from + a bowknot of crushed diamonds. It was her only possession, and she was + very fond of it. It also was the gift of one of the several great ladies + who had adopted her since her residence in London. Helen had painted a + miniature of this particular great lady which had looked so beautiful that + the pleasure which the original of the portrait derived from the thought + that she still really looked as she did in the miniature was worth more to + her than many diamonds. + </p> + <p> + But it was different with Helen, and no one could count what it cost her + to tear away her one proud possession. + </p> + <p> + “What will you give me for this?” she asked defiantly. + </p> + <p> + The girl’s eyes showed greater interest. “I can give you twenty pounds for + that,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Take it, please,” Helen begged, as though she feared if she kept it a + moment longer she might not be able to make the sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “That will be enough now,” she went on, taking out her ten-pound note. She + put Lady Gower’s ring back upon her finger and picked up Philip’s ring and + watch with the pleasure of one who has come into a great fortune. She + turned back at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she stammered, “in case any one should inquire, you are not to say + who bought these.” + </p> + <p> + “No, miss, certainly not,” said the woman. Helen gave the direction to the + cabman and, closing the doors of the hansom, sat looking down at the watch + and the ring, as they lay in her lap. The thought that they had been his + most valued possessions, which he had abandoned forever, and that they + were now entirely hers, to do with as she liked, filled her with most + intense delight and pleasure. She took up the heavy gold ring and placed + it on the little finger of her left hand; it was much too large, and she + removed it and balanced it for a moment doubtfully in the palm of her + right hand. She was smiling, and her face was lit with shy and tender + thoughts. She cast a quick glance to the left and right as though fearful + that people passing in the street would observe her, and then slipped the + ring over the fourth finger of her left hand. She gazed at it with a + guilty smile and then, covering it hastily with her other hand, leaned + back, clasping it closely, and sat frowning far out before her with + puzzled eyes. + </p> + <p> + To Carroll all roads led past Helen’s studio, and during the summer, while + she had been absent in Scotland it was one of his sad pleasures to make a + pilgrimage to her street and to pause opposite the house and look up at + the empty windows of her rooms. + </p> + <p> + It was during this daily exercise that he learned, through the arrival of + her luggage, of her return to London, and when day followed day without + her having shown any desire to see him or to tell him of her return he + denounced himself most bitterly as a fatuous fool. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the week he sat down and considered his case quite calmly. + For three years he had loved this girl, deeply and tenderly. He had been + lover, brother, friend, and guardian. During that time, even though she + had accepted him in every capacity except as that of the prospective + husband, she had never given him any real affection, nor sympathy, nor + help; all she had done for him had been done without her knowledge or + intent. To know her, to love her, and to scheme to give her pleasure had + been its own reward, and the only one. For the last few months he had been + living like a crossing-sweeper in order to be able to stay in London until + she came back to it, and that he might still send her the gifts he had + always laid on her altar. He had not seen her in three months. Three + months that had been to him a blank, except for his work—which like + all else that he did, was inspired and carried on for her. Now at last she + had returned and had shown that, even as a friend, he was of so little + account in her thoughts, of so little consequence in her life, that after + this long absence she had no desire to learn of his welfare or to see him—she + did not even give him the chance to see her. And so, placing these facts + before him for the first time since he had loved her, he considered what + was due to himself. “Was it good enough?” he asked. “Was it just that he + should continue to wear out his soul and body for this girl who did not + want what he had to give, who treated him less considerately than a man + whom she met for the first time at dinner?” He felt he had reached the + breaking-point; that the time had come when he must consider what he owed + to himself. There could never be any other woman save Helen, but as it was + not to be Helen, he could no longer, with self-respect, continue to + proffer his love only to see it slighted and neglected. He was humble + enough concerning himself, but of his love he was very proud. Other men + could give her more in wealth or position, but no one could ever love her + as he did. “He that hath more let him give,” he had often quoted to her + defiantly, as though he were challenging the world, and now he felt he + must evolve a make-shift world of his own—a world in which she was + not his only spring of acts; he must begin all over again and keep his + love secret and sacred until she understood it and wanted it. And if she + should never want it he would at least have saved it from many rebuffs and + insults. + </p> + <p> + With this determination strong in him, the note Helen had left for him + after her talk with Marion, and the flowers, and the note with them, + saying she was coming to take tea on the morrow, failed to move him except + to make him more bitter. He saw in them only a tardy recognition of her + neglect—an effort to make up to him for thoughtlessness which, from + her, hurt him worse than studied slight. + </p> + <p> + A new regime had begun, and he was determined to establish it firmly and + to make it impossible for himself to retreat from it; and in the note in + which he thanked Helen for the flowers and welcomed her to tea, he + declared his ultimatum. + </p> + <p> + “You know how terribly I feel,” he wrote; “I don’t have to tell you that, + but I cannot always go on dragging out my love and holding it up to excite + your pity as beggars show their sores. I cannot always go on praying + before your altar, cutting myself with knives and calling upon you to + listen to me. You know that there is no one else but you, and that there + never can be any one but you, and that nothing is changed except that + after this I am not going to urge and torment you. I shall wait as I have + always waited—only now I shall wait in silence. You know just how + little, in one way, I have to offer you, and you know just how much I have + in love to offer you. It is now for you to speak—some day, or never. + But you will have to speak first. You will never hear a word of love from + me again. Why should you? You know it is always waiting for you. But if + you should ever want it, you must come to me, and take off your hat and + put it on my table and say, ‘Philip, I have come to stay.’ Whether you can + ever do that or not can make no difference in my love for you. I shall + love you always, as no man has ever loved a woman in this world, but it is + you who must speak first; for me, the rest is silence.” + </p> + <p> + The following morning as Helen was leaving the house she found this letter + lying on the hall-table, and ran back with it to her rooms. A week before + she would have let it lie on the table and read it on her return. She was + conscious that this was what she would have done, and it pleased her to + find that what concerned Philip was now to her the thing of greatest + interest. She was pleased with her own eagerness—her own happiness + was a welcome sign, and she was proud and glad that she was learning to + care. + </p> + <p> + She read the letter with an anxious pride and pleasure in each word that + was entirely new. Philip’s recriminations did not hurt her, they were the + sign that he cared; nor did his determination not to speak of his love to + her hurt her, for she believed him when he said that he would always care. + She read the letter twice, and then sat for some time considering the kind + of letter Philip would have written had he known her secret—had he + known that the ring he had abandoned was now upon her finger. + </p> + <p> + She rose and, crossing to a desk, placed the letter in a drawer, and then + took it out again and re-read the last page. When she had finished it she + was smiling. For a moment she stood irresolute, and then, moving slowly + toward the centre-table, cast a guilty look about her and, raising her + hands, lifted her veil and half withdrew the pins that fastened her hat. + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” she began in a frightened whisper, “I have—I have come to—” + </p> + <p> + The sentence ended in a cry of protest, and she rushed across the room as + though she were running from herself. She was blushing violently. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” she cried, as she pulled open the door; “I could never do it—never!” + </p> + <p> + The following afternoon, when Helen was to come to tea, Carroll decided + that he would receive her with all the old friendliness, but that he must + be careful to subdue all emotion. + </p> + <p> + He was really deeply hurt at her treatment, and had it not been that she + came on her own invitation he would not of his own accord have sought to + see her. In consequence, he rather welcomed than otherwise the arrival of + Marion Cavendish, who came a half-hour before Helen was expected, and who + followed a hasty knock with a precipitate entrance. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” she commanded breathlessly; “and listen. I’ve been at + rehearsal all day, or I’d have been here before you were awake.” She + seated herself nervously and nodded her head at Carroll in an excited and + mysterious manner. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” he asked. “Have you and Reggie—” + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” Marion repeated, “our fortunes are made; that is what’s the + matter—and I’ve made them. If you took half the interest in your + work I do, you’d have made yours long ago. Last night,” she began + impressively, “I went to a large supper at the Savoy, and I sat next to + Charley Wimpole. He came in late, after everybody had finished, and I + attacked him while he was eating his supper. He said he had been + rehearsing ‘Caste’ after the performance; that they’ve put it on as a + stop-gap on account of the failure of the ‘Triflers,’ and that he knew + revivals were of no use; that he would give any sum for a good modern + comedy. That was my cue, and I told him I knew of a better comedy than any + he had produced at his theatre in five years, and that it was going + begging. He laughed, and asked where was he to find this wonderful comedy, + and I said, ‘It’s been in your safe for the last two months and you + haven’t read it.’ He said, ‘Indeed, how do you know that?’ and I said, + ‘Because if you’d read it, it wouldn’t be in your safe, but on your + stage.’ So he asked me what the play was about, and I told him the plot + and what sort of a part his was, and some of his scenes, and he began to + take notice. He forgot his supper, and very soon he grew so interested + that he turned his chair round and kept eying my supper-card to find out + who I was, and at last remembered seeing me in ‘The New Boy’—and a + rotten part it was, too—but he remembered it, and he told me to go + on and tell him more about your play. So I recited it, bit by bit, and he + laughed in all the right places and got very much excited, and said + finally that he would read it the first thing this morning.” Marion + paused, breathlessly. “Oh, yes, and he wrote your address on his cuff,” + she added, with the air of delivering a complete and convincing climax. + </p> + <p> + Carroll stared at her and pulled excitedly on his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Marion!” he gasped, “suppose he should? He won’t though,” he added, + but eying her eagerly and inviting contradiction. + </p> + <p> + “He will,” she answered, stoutly, “if he reads it.” + </p> + <p> + “The other managers read it,” Carroll suggested, doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but what do they know?” Marion returned, loftily. “He knows. Charles + Wimpole is the only intelligent actor-manager in London.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sharp knock at the door, which Marion in her excitement had + left ajar, and Prentiss threw it wide open with an impressive sweep, as + though he were announcing royalty: “Mr. Charles Wimpole,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The actor-manager stopped in the doorway bowing gracefully, his hat held + before him and his hand on his stick as though it were resting on a foil. + He had the face and carriage of a gallant of the days of Congreve, and he + wore his modern frock-coat with as much distinction as if it were of silk + and lace. He was evidently amused. “I couldn’t help overhearing the last + line,” he said, smiling. “It gives me a good entrance.” + </p> + <p> + Marion gazed at him blankly: “Oh,” she gasped, “we—we—were + just talking about you.” + </p> + <p> + “If you hadn’t mentioned my name,” the actor said, “I should never have + guessed it. And this is Mr. Carroll, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + The great man was rather pleased with the situation. As he read it, it + struck him as possessing strong dramatic possibilities: Carroll was the + struggling author on the verge of starvation: Marion, his sweetheart, + flying to him gave him hope; and he was the good fairy arriving in the + nick of time to set everything right and to make the young people happy + and prosperous. He rather fancied himself in the part of the good fairy, + and as he seated himself he bowed to them both in a manner which was + charmingly inclusive and confidential. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Cavendish, I imagine, has already warned you that you might expect a + visit from me,” he said tentatively. Carroll nodded. He was too much + concerned to interrupt. + </p> + <p> + “Then I need only tell you,” Wimpole continued, “that I got up at an + absurd hour this morning to read your play; that I did read it; that I + like it immensely—and that if we can come to terms I shall produce + it I shall produce it at once, within a fortnight or three weeks.” + </p> + <p> + Carroll was staring at him intently and continued doing so after Wimpole + had finished speaking. The actor felt he had somehow missed his point, or + that Carroll could not have understood him, and repeated, “I say I shall + put it in rehearsal at once.” + </p> + <p> + Carroll rose abruptly, and pushed back his chair. “I should be very glad,” + he murmured, and strode over to the window, where he stood with his back + turned to his guests. Wimpole looked after him with a kindly smile and + nodded his head appreciatively. He had produced even a greater effect than + his lines seemed to warrant. When he spoke again, it was quite simply, and + sincerely, and though he spoke for Carroll’s benefit, he addressed himself + to Marion. + </p> + <p> + “You were quite right last night,” he said, “it is a most charming piece + of work. I am really extremely grateful to you for bringing it to my + notice.” He rose, and going to Carroll, put his hand on his shoulder. “My + boy,” he said, “I congratulate you. I should like to be your age, and to + have written that play. Come to my theatre to-morrow and we will talk + terms. Talk it over first with your friends, so that I sha’n’t rob you. Do + you think you would prefer a lump sum now, and so be done with it + altogether, or trust that the royalties may—” + </p> + <p> + “Royalties,” prompted Marion, in an eager aside. + </p> + <p> + The men laughed. “Quite right,” Wimpole assented, good-humoredly; “it’s a + poor sportsman who doesn’t back his own horse. Well, then, until + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Carroll began, “one moment please. I haven’t thanked you.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” cried Wimpole, waving him away with his stick, “it is I who + have to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “And—and there is a condition,” Carroll said, “which goes with the + play. It is that Miss Cavendish is to have the part of Nancy.” + </p> + <p> + Wimpole looked serious and considered for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Nancy,” he said, “the girl who interferes—a very good part. I have + cast Miss Maddox for it in my mind, but, of course, if the author insists—” + </p> + <p> + Marion, with her elbows on the table, clasped her hands appealingly before + her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Wimpole!” she cried, “you owe me that, at least.” + </p> + <p> + Carroll leaned over and took both of Marion’s hands in one of his. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right,” he said; “the author insists.” + </p> + <p> + Wimpole waved his stick again as though it were the magic wand of the good + fairy. + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it,” he said. “I recall your performance in ‘The New Boy’ + with pleasure. I take the play, and Miss Cavendish shall be cast for + Nancy. We shall begin rehearsals at once. I hope you are a quick study.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m letter-perfect now{,}” laughed Marion. + </p> + <p> + Wimpole turned at the door and nodded to them. They were both so young, so + eager, and so jubilant that he felt strangely old and out of it. “Good-by, + then,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, sir,” they both chorussed. And Marion cried after him, “And + thank you a thousand times.” + </p> + <p> + He turned again and looked back at them, but in their rejoicing they had + already forgotten him. “Bless you, my children,” he said, smiling. As he + was about to close the door a young girl came down the passage toward it, + and as she was apparently going to Carroll’s rooms, the actor left the + door open behind him. + </p> + <p> + Neither Marion nor Carroll had noticed his final exit. They were both + gazing at each other as though, could they find speech, they would ask if + it were true. + </p> + <p> + “It’s come at last, Marion,” Philip said, with an uncertain voice. + </p> + <p> + “I could weep,” cried Marion. “Philip,” she exclaimed, “I would rather see + that play succeed than any play ever written, and I would rather play that + part in it than—Oh, Philip,” she ended. “I’m so proud of you!” and + rising, she threw her arms about his neck and sobbed on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Carroll raised one of her hands and kissed the tips of her fingers gently. + “I owe it to you, Marion,” he said—“all to you.” + </p> + <p> + This was the tableau that was presented through the open door to Miss + Helen Cabot, hurrying on her errand of restitution and good-will, and with + Philip’s ring and watch clasped in her hand. They had not heard her, nor + did they see her at the door, so she drew back quickly and ran along the + passage and down the stairs into the street. + </p> + <p> + She did not need now to analyze her feelings. They were only too evident. + For she could translate what she had just seen as meaning only one thing—that + she had considered Philip’s love so lightly that she had not felt it + passing away from her until her neglect had killed it—until it was + too late. And now that it was too late she felt that without it her life + could not go on. She tried to assure herself that only the fact that she + had lost it made it seem invaluable, but this thought did not comfort her—she + was not deceived by it, she knew that at last she cared for him deeply and + entirely. In her distress she blamed herself bitterly, but she also blamed + Philip no less bitterly for having failed to wait for her. “He might have + known that I must love him in time,” she repeated to herself again and + again. She was so unhappy that her letter congratulating Philip on his + good fortune in having his comedy accepted seemed to him cold and + unfeeling, and as his success meant for him only what it meant to her, he + was hurt and grievously disappointed. + </p> + <p> + He accordingly turned the more readily to Marion, whose interests and + enthusiasm at the rehearsals of the piece seemed in contrast most friendly + and unselfish. He could not help but compare the attitude of the two girls + at this time, when the failure or success of his best work was still + undecided. He felt that as Helen took so little interest in his success he + could not dare to trouble her with his anxieties concerning it, and she + attributed his silence to his preoccupation and interest in Marion. So the + two grew apart, each misunderstanding the other and each troubled in + spirit at the other’s indifference. + </p> + <p> + The first night of the play justified all that Marion and Wimpole had + claimed for it, and was a great personal triumph for the new playwright. + The audience was the typical first-night audience of the class which + Charles Wimpole always commanded. It was brilliant, intelligent, and + smart, and it came prepared to be pleased. + </p> + <p> + From one of the upper stage-boxes Helen and Lady Gower watched the + successful progress of the play with an anxiety almost as keen as that of + the author. To Helen it seemed as though the giving of these lines to the + public—these lines which he had so often read to her, and altered to + her liking—was a desecration. It seemed as though she were losing + him indeed—as though he now belonged to these strange people, all of + whom were laughing and applauding his words, from the German Princess in + the Royal box to the straight-backed Tommy in the pit. Instead of the + painted scene before her, she saw the birch-trees by the river at home, + where he had first read her the speech to which they were now listening so + intensely—the speech in which the hero tells the girl he loves her. + She remembered that at the time she had thought how wonderful it would be + if some day some one made such a speech to her—not Philip—but + a man she loved. And now? If Philip would only make that speech to her + now! + </p> + <p> + He came out at last, with Wimpole leading him, and bowed across a glaring + barrier of lights at a misty but vociferous audience that was shouting the + generous English bravo! and standing up to applaud. He raised his eyes to + the box where Helen sat, and saw her staring down at the tumult, with her + hands clasped under her chin. Her face was colorless, but lit with the + excitement of the moment; and he saw that she was crying. + </p> + <p> + Lady Gower, from behind her, was clapping her hands delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear Helen,” she remonstrated breathlessly, “you never told me he + was so good-looking.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Helen, rising abruptly, “he is—very good-looking.” + </p> + <p> + She crossed the box to where her cloak was hanging, but instead of taking + it down buried her face in its folds. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child!” cried Lady Gower, in dismay. “What is it? The excitement + has been too much for you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am just happy,” sobbed Helen. “I am just happy for him.” + </p> + <p> + “We will go and tell him so then,” said Lady Gower. “I am sure he would + like to hear it from you to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Philip was standing in the centre of the stage, surrounded by many pretty + ladies and elderly men. Wimpole was hovering over him as though he had + claims upon him by the right of discovery. + </p> + <p> + But when Philip saw Helen, he pushed his way toward her eagerly and took + her hand in both of his. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad, Phil,” she said. She felt it all so deeply that she was + afraid to say more, but that meant so much to her that she was sure he + would understand. + </p> + <p> + He had planned it very differently. For a year he had dreamed that, on the + first night of his play, there would be a supper, and that he would rise + and drink her health, and tell his friends and the world that she was the + woman he loved, and that she had agreed to marry him, and that at last he + was able, through the success of his play, to make her his wife. + </p> + <p> + And now they met in a crowd to shake hands, and she went her way with one + of her grand ladies, and he was left among a group of chattering + strangers. The great English playwright took him by the hand and in the + hearing of all, praised him gracefully and kindly. It did not matter to + Philip whether the older playwright believed what he said or not; he knew + it was generously meant. + </p> + <p> + “I envy you this,” the great man was saying. “Don’t lose any of it, stay + and listen to all they have to say. You will never live through the first + night of your first play but once.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I hear them,” said Philip, nervously; “they are all too kind. But I + don’t hear the voice I have been listening for,” he added in a whisper. + The older man pressed his hand again quickly. “My dear boy,” he said, “I + am sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” Philip answered. + </p> + <p> + Within a week he had forgotten the great man’s fine words of praise, but + the clasp of his hand he cherished always. + </p> + <p> + Helen met Marion as she was leaving the stage door and stopped to + congratulate her on her success in the new part. Marion was radiant. To + Helen she seemed obstreperously happy and jubilant. + </p> + <p> + “And, Marion,” Helen began bravely, “I also want to congratulate you on + something else. You—you—neither of you have told me yet,” she + stammered, “but I am such an old friend of both that I will not be kept + out of the secret.” At these words Marion’s air of triumphant gayety + vanished; she regarded Helen’s troubled eyes closely and kindly. + </p> + <p> + “What secret, Helen?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I came to the door of Philip’s room the other day when you did not know I + was there,” Helen answered; “and I could not help seeing how matters were. + And I do congratulate you both—and wish you—oh, such + happiness!” Without a word Marion dragged her back down the passage to her + dressing-room, and closed the door. + </p> + <p> + “Now tell me what you mean,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry if I discovered anything you didn’t want known yet,” said + Helen, “but the door was open. Mr. Wimpole had just left you and had not + shut it, and I could not help seeing.” + </p> + <p> + Marion interrupted her with an eager exclamation of enlightenment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you were there, then,” she cried. “And you?” she asked eagerly—“you + thought Phil cared for me—that we are engaged, and it hurt you; you + are sorry? Tell me,” she demanded, “are you sorry?” + </p> + <p> + Helen drew back and stretched out her hand toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “How can you!” she exclaimed, indignantly. “You have no right.” + </p> + <p> + Marion stood between her and the door. + </p> + <p> + “I have every right,” she said, “to help my friends, and I want to help + you and Philip. And indeed I do hope you ARE sorry. I hope you are + miserable. And I’m glad you saw me kiss him. That was the first and the + last time, and I did it because I was happy and glad for him; and because + I love him too, but not in the least in the way he loves you. No one ever + loved any one as he loves you. And it’s time you found it out. And if I + have helped to make you find it out I’m glad, and I don’t care how much I + hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Marion!” exclaimed Helen, “what does it mean? Do you mean that you are + not engaged; that—” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” Marion answered. “I am going to marry Reggie. It is you + that Philip loves, and I am very sorry for you that you don’t love him.” + </p> + <p> + Helen clasped Marion’s hands in both of hers. + </p> + <p> + “But, Marion!” she cried, “I do, oh, I do!” + </p> + <p> + There was a thick yellow fog the next morning, and with it rain and a + sticky, depressing dampness which crept through the window-panes, and + which neither a fire nor blazing gas-jets could overcome. + </p> + <p> + Philip stood in front of the fireplace with the morning papers piled high + on the centre-table and scattered over the room about him. + </p> + <p> + He had read them all, and he knew now what it was to wake up famous, but + he could not taste it. Now that it had come it meant nothing, and that it + was so complete a triumph only made it the harder. In his most optimistic + dreams he had never imagined success so satisfying as the reality had + proved to be; but in his dreams Helen had always held the chief part, and + without her, success seemed only to mock him. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to lay it all before her, to say, “If you are pleased, I am + happy. If you are satisfied, then I am content. It was done for you, and I + am wholly yours, and all that I do is yours.” + </p> + <p> + And, as though in answer to his thoughts, there was an instant knock at + the door, and Helen entered the room and stood smiling at him across the + table. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were lit with excitement, and spoke with many emotions, and her + cheeks were brilliant with color. He had never seen her look more + beautiful. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Helen!” he exclaimed, “how good of you to come. Is there anything + wrong? Is anything the matter?” + </p> + <p> + She tried to speak, but faltered, and smiled at him appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” he asked in great concern. + </p> + <p> + Helen drew in her breath quickly, and at the same moment motioned him away—and + he stepped back and stood watching her in much perplexity. + </p> + <p> + With her eyes fixed on his she raised her hands to her head, and her + fingers fumbled with the knot of her veil. She pulled it loose, and then, + with a sudden courage, lifted her hat proudly, as though it were a + coronet, and placed it between them on his table. + </p> + <p> + “Philip,” she stammered, with the tears in her voice and eyes, “if you + will let me—I have come to stay.” + </p> + <p> + The table was no longer between them. He caught her in his arms and kissed + her face and her uncovered head again and again. From outside the rain + beat drearily and the fog rolled through the street, but inside before the + fire the two young people sat close together, asking eager questions or + sitting in silence, staring at the flames with wondering, happy eyes. + </p> + <p> + The Lion and the Unicorn saw them only once again. It was a month later + when they stopped in front of the shop in a four-wheeler, with their + baggage mixed on top of it, and steamer-labels pasted over every trunk. + </p> + <p> + “And, oh, Prentiss!” Carroll called from the cab-window. “I came near + forgetting. I promised to gild the Lion and the Unicorn if I won out in + London. So have it done, please, and send the bill to me. For I’ve won out + all right.” And then he shut the door of the cab, and they drove away + forever. + </p> + <p> + “Nice gal, that,” growled the Lion. “I always liked her. I am glad they’ve + settled it at last.” + </p> + <p> + The Unicorn sighed, sentimentally. “The other one’s worth two of her,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ON THE FEVER SHIP + </h2> + <p> + There were four rails around the ship’s sides, the three lower ones of + iron and the one on top of wood, and as he looked between them from the + canvas cot he recognized them as the prison-bars which held him in. + Outside his prison lay a stretch of blinding blue water which ended in a + line of breakers and a yellow coast with ragged palms. Beyond that again + rose a range of mountain-peaks, and, stuck upon the loftiest peak of all, + a tiny block-house. It rested on the brow of the mountain against the + naked sky as impudently as a cracker-box set upon the dome of a great + cathedral. + </p> + <p> + As the transport rode on her anchor-chains, the iron bars around her sides + rose and sank and divided the landscape with parallel lines. From his cot + the officer followed this phenomenon with severe, painstaking interest. + Sometimes the wooden rail swept up to the very block-house itself, and for + a second of time blotted it from sight. And again it sank to the level of + the line of breakers, and wiped them out of the picture as though they + were a line of chalk. + </p> + <p> + The soldier on the cot promised himself that the next swell of the sea + would send the lowest rail climbing to the very top of the palm-trees or, + even higher, to the base of the mountains; and when it failed to reach + even the palm-trees he felt a distinct sense of ill use, of having been + wronged by some one. There was no other reason for submitting to this + existence, save these tricks upon the wearisome, glaring landscape; and, + now, whoever it was who was working them did not seem to be making this + effort to entertain him with any heartiness. + </p> + <p> + It was most cruel. Indeed, he decided hotly, it was not to be endured; he + would bear it no longer, he would make his escape. But he knew that this + move, which could be conceived in a moment’s desperation, could only be + carried to success with great strategy, secrecy, and careful cunning. So + he fell back upon his pillow and closed his eyes, as though he were + asleep, and then opening them again, turned cautiously, and spied upon his + keeper. As usual, his keeper sat at the foot of the cot turning the pages + of a huge paper filled with pictures of the war printed in daubs of tawdry + colors. His keeper was a hard-faced boy without human pity or + consideration, a very devil of obstinacy and fiendish cruelty. To make it + worse, the fiend was a person without a collar, in a suit of soiled khaki, + with a curious red cross bound by a safety-pin to his left arm. He was + intent upon the paper in his hands; he was holding it between his eyes and + his prisoner. His vigilance had relaxed, and the moment seemed propitious. + With a sudden plunge of arms and legs, the prisoner swept the bed sheet + from him, and sprang at the wooden rail and grasped the iron stanchion + beside it. He had his knee pressed against the top bar and his bare toes + on the iron rail beneath it. Below him the blue water waited for him. It + was cool and dark and gentle and deep. It would certainly put out the fire + in his bones, he thought; it might even shut out the glare of the sun + which scorched his eyeballs. + </p> + <p> + But as he balanced for the leap, a swift weakness and nausea swept over + him, a weight seized upon his body and limbs. He could not lift the lower + foot from the iron rail, and he swayed dizzily and trembled. He trembled. + He who had raced his men and beaten them up the hot hill to the trenches + of San Juan. But now he was a baby in the hands of a giant, who caught him + by the wrist and with an iron arm clasped him around his waist and pulled + him down, and shouted, brutally, “Help, some of you’se, quick; he’s at it + again. I can’t hold him.” + </p> + <p> + More giants grasped him by the arms and by the legs. One of them took the + hand that clung to the stanchion in both of his, and pulled back the + fingers one by one, saying, “Easy now, Lieutenant—easy.” + </p> + <p> + The ragged palms and the sea and block-house were swallowed up in a black + fog, and his body touched the canvas cot again with a sense of home-coming + and relief and rest. He wondered how he could have cared to escape from + it. He found it so good to be back again that for a long time he wept + quite happily, until the fiery pillow was moist and cool. + </p> + <p> + The world outside of the iron bars was like a scene in a theatre set for + some great event, but the actors were never ready. He remembered + confusedly a play he had once witnessed before that same scene. Indeed, he + believed he had played some small part in it; but he remembered it dimly, + and all trace of the men who had appeared with him in it was gone. He had + reasoned it out that they were up there behind the range of mountains, + because great heavy wagons and ambulances and cannon were emptied from the + ships at the wharf above and were drawn away in long lines behind the + ragged palms, moving always toward the passes between the peaks. At times + he was disturbed by the thought that he should be up and after them, that + some tradition of duty made his presence with them imperative. There was + much to be done back of the mountains. Some event of momentous import was + being carried forward there, in which he held a part; but the doubt soon + passed from him, and he was content to lie and watch the iron bars rising + and falling between the block-house and the white surf. + </p> + <p> + If they had been only humanely kind, his lot would have been bearable, but + they starved him and held him down when he wished to rise; and they would + not put out the fire in the pillow, which they might easily have done by + the simple expedient of throwing it over the ship’s side into the sea. He + himself had done this twice, but the keeper had immediately brought a + fresh pillow already heated for the torture and forced it under his head. + </p> + <p> + His pleasures were very simple, and so few that he could not understand + why they robbed him of them so jealously. One was to watch a green cluster + of bananas that hung above him from the awning twirling on a string. He + could count as many of them as five before the bunch turned and swung + lazily back again, when he could count as high as twelve; sometimes when + the ship rolled heavily he could count to twenty. It was a most + fascinating game, and contented him for many hours. But when they found + this out they sent for the cook to come and cut them down, and the cook + carried them away to his galley. + </p> + <p> + Then, one day, a man came out from the shore, swimming through the blue + water with great splashes. He was a most charming man, who spluttered and + dove and twisted and lay on his back and kicked his legs in an excess of + content and delight. It was a real pleasure to watch him; not for days had + anything so amusing appeared on the other side of the prison-bars. But as + soon as the keeper saw that the man in the water was amusing his prisoner, + he leaned over the ship’s side and shouted, “Sa-ay, you, don’t you know + there’s sharks in there?” + </p> + <p> + And the swimming man said, “The h—ll there is!” and raced back to + the shore like a porpoise with great lashing of the water, and ran up the + beach half-way to the palms before he was satisfied to stop. Then the + prisoner wept again. It was so disappointing. Life was robbed of + everything now. He remembered that in a previous existence soldiers who + cried were laughed at and mocked. + </p> + <p> + But that was so far away and it was such an absurd superstition that he + had no patience with it. For what could be more comforting to a man when + he is treated cruelly than to cry. It was so obvious an exercise, and when + one is so feeble that one cannot vault a four-railed barrier it is + something to feel that at least one is strong enough to cry. + </p> + <p> + He escaped occasionally, traversing space with marvellous rapidity and to + great distances, but never to any successful purpose; and his flight + inevitably ended in ignominious recapture and a sudden awakening in bed. + At these moments the familiar and hated palms, the peaks and the + block-house were more hideous in their reality than the most terrifying of + his nightmares. + </p> + <p> + These excursions afield were always predatory; he went forth always to + seek food. With all the beautiful world from which to elect and choose, he + sought out only those places where eating was studied and elevated to an + art. These visits were much more vivid in their detail than any he had + ever before made to these same resorts. They invariably began in a + carriage, which carried him swiftly over smooth asphalt. One route brought + him across a great and beautiful square, radiating with rows and rows of + flickering lights; two fountains splashed in the centre of the square, and + six women of stone guarded its approaches. One of the women was hung with + wreaths of mourning. Ahead of him the late twilight darkened behind a + great arch, which seemed to rise on the horizon of the world, a great + window into the heavens beyond. At either side strings of white and + colored globes hung among the trees, and the sound of music came joyfully + from theatres in the open air. He knew the restaurant under the trees to + which he was now hastening, and the fountain beside it, and the very + sparrows balancing on the fountain’s edge; he knew every waiter at each of + the tables, he felt again the gravel crunching under his feet, he saw the + maitre d’hotel coming forward smiling to receive his command, and the + waiter in the green apron bowing at his elbow, deferential and important, + presenting the list of wines. But his adventure never passed that point, + for he was captured again and once more bound to his cot with a close + burning sheet. + </p> + <p> + Or else, he drove more sedately through the London streets in the late + evening twilight, leaning expectantly across the doors of the hansom and + pulling carefully at his white gloves. Other hansoms flashed past him, the + occupant of each with his mind fixed on one idea—dinner. He was one + of a million of people who were about to dine, or who had dined, or who + were deep in dining. + </p> + <p> + He was so famished, so weak for food of any quality, that the galloping + horse in the hansom seemed to crawl. The lights of the Embankment passed + like the lamps of a railroad station as seen from the window of an + express; and while his mind was still torn between the choice of a thin or + thick soup or an immediate attack upon cold beef, he was at the door, and + the chasseur touched his cap, and the little chasseur put the wicker guard + over the hansom’s wheel. As he jumped out he said, “Give him + half-a-crown,” and the driver called after him, “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful world, this world outside of the iron bars. Every one + in it contributed to his pleasure and to his comfort. In this world he was + not starved nor manhandled. He thought of this joyfully as he leaped up + the stairs, where young men with grave faces and with their hands held + negligently behind their backs bowed to him in polite surprise at his + speed. But they had not been starved on condensed milk. He threw his coat + and hat at one of them, and came down the hall fearfully and quite weak + with dread lest it should not be real. His voice was shaking when he asked + Ellis if he had reserved a table. The place was all so real, it must be + true this time. The way Ellis turned and ran his finger down the list + showed it was real, because Ellis always did that, even when he knew there + would not be an empty table for an hour. The room was crowded with + beautiful women; under the light of the red shades they looked kind and + approachable, and there was food on every table, and iced drinks in silver + buckets. + </p> + <p> + It was with the joy of great relief that he heard Ellis say to his + underling, “Numero cinq, sur la terrace, un couvert.” It was real at last. + Outside, the Thames lay a great gray shadow. The lights of the Embankment + flashed and twinkled across it, the tower of the House of Commons rose + against the sky, and here, inside, the waiter was hurrying toward him + carrying a smoking plate of rich soup with a pungent intoxicating odor. + </p> + <p> + And then the ragged palms, the glaring sun, the immovable peaks, and the + white surf stood again before him. The iron rails swept up and sank again, + the fever sucked at his bones, and the pillow scorched his cheek. + </p> + <p> + One morning for a brief moment he came back to real life again and lay + quite still, seeing everything about him with clear eyes and for the first + time, as though he had but just that instant been lifted over the ship’s + side. His keeper, glancing up, found the prisoner’s eyes considering him + curiously, and recognized the change. The instinct of discipline brought + him to his feet with his fingers at his sides. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Lieutenant feeling better?” + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant surveyed him gravely. + </p> + <p> + “You are one of our hospital stewards.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Lieutenant.” + </p> + <p> + “Why ar’n’t you with the regiment?” + </p> + <p> + “I was wounded, too, sir. I got it same time you did, Lieutenant.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I wounded? Of course, I remember. Is this a hospital ship?” + </p> + <p> + The steward shrugged his shoulders. “She’s one of the transports. They + have turned her over to the fever cases.” + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant opened his lips to ask another question; but his own body + answered that one, and for a moment he lay silent. + </p> + <p> + “Do they know up North that I—that I’m all right?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, the papers had it in—there was pictures of the Lieutenant + in some of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ve been ill some time?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, about eight days.” + </p> + <p> + The soldier moved uneasily, and the nurse in him became uppermost. + </p> + <p> + “I guess the Lieutenant hadn’t better talk any more,” he said. It was his + voice now which held authority. + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant looked out at the palms and the silent gloomy mountains and + the empty coast-line, where the same wave was rising and falling with + weary persistence. + </p> + <p> + “Eight days,” he said. His eyes shut quickly, as though with a sudden + touch of pain. He turned his head and sought for the figure at the foot of + the cot. Already the figure had grown faint and was receding and swaying. + </p> + <p> + “Has any one written or cabled?” the Lieutenant spoke, hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + He was fearful lest the figure should disappear altogether before he could + obtain his answer. “Has any one come?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, they couldn’t get here, Lieutenant, not yet.” + </p> + <p> + The voice came very faintly. “You go to sleep now, and I’ll run and fetch + some letters and telegrams. When you wake up, may be I’ll have a lot for + you.” + </p> + <p> + But the Lieutenant caught the nurse by the wrist, and crushed his hand in + his own thin fingers. They were hot, and left the steward’s skin wet with + perspiration. The Lieutenant laughed gayly. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Doctor,” he said, briskly, “that you can’t kill me. I can’t die. + I’ve got to live, you understand. Because, sir, she said she would come. + She said if I was wounded, or if I was ill, she would come to me. She + didn’t care what people thought. She would come any way and nurse me—well, + she will come. + </p> + <p> + “So, Doctor—old man—” He plucked at the steward’s sleeve, and + stroked his hand eagerly, “old man—” he began again, beseechingly, + “you’ll not let me die until she comes, will you? What? No, I know I won’t + die. Nothing made by man can kill me. No, not until she comes. Then, after + that—eight days, she’ll be here soon, any moment? What? You think + so, too? Don’t you? Surely, yes, any moment. Yes, I’ll go to sleep now, + and when you see her rowing out from shore you wake me. You’ll know her; + you can’t make a mistake. She is like—no, there is no one like her—but + you can’t make a mistake.” + </p> + <p> + That day strange figures began to mount the sides of the ship, and to + occupy its every turn and angle of space. Some of them fell on their knees + and slapped the bare deck with their hands, and laughed and cried out, + “Thank God, I’ll see God’s country again!” Some of them were regulars, + bound in bandages; some were volunteers, dirty and hollow-eyed, with long + beards on boys’ faces. Some came on crutches; others with their arms + around the shoulders of their comrades, staring ahead of them with a fixed + smile, their lips drawn back and their teeth protruding. At every second + step they stumbled, and the face of each was swept by swift ripples of + pain. + </p> + <p> + They lay on cots so close together that the nurses could not walk between + them. They lay on the wet decks, in the scuppers, and along the transoms + and hatches. They were like shipwrecked mariners clinging to a raft, and + they asked nothing more than that the ship’s bow be turned toward home. + Once satisfied as to that, they relaxed into a state of self-pity and + miserable oblivion to their environment, from which hunger nor nausea nor + aching bones could shake them. + </p> + <p> + The hospital steward touched the Lieutenant lightly on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “We are going North, sir,” he said. “The transport’s ordered North to New + York, with these volunteers and the sick and wounded. Do you hear me, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant opened his eyes. “Has she come?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Gee!” exclaimed the hospital steward. He glanced impatiently at the blue + mountains and the yellow coast, from which the transport was drawing + rapidly away. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can’t see her coming just now,” he said. “But she will,” he + added. + </p> + <p> + “You let me know at once when she comes.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, cert’nly, of course,” said the steward. + </p> + <p> + Three trained nurses came over the side just before the transport started + North. One was a large, motherly-looking woman, with a German accent. She + had been a trained nurse, first in Berlin, and later in the London + Hospital in Whitechapel, and at Bellevue. + </p> + <p> + The nurse was dressed in white, and wore a little silver medal at her + throat; and she was strong enough to lift a volunteer out of his cot and + hold him easily in her arms, while one of the convalescents pulled his cot + out of the rain. Some of the men called her “nurse;” others, who wore + scapulars around their necks, called her “Sister;” and the officers of the + medical staff addressed her as Miss Bergen. + </p> + <p> + Miss Bergen halted beside the cot of the Lieutenant and asked, “Is this + the fever case you spoke about, Doctor—the one you want moved to the + officers’ ward?” She slipped her hand up under his sleeve and felt his + wrist. + </p> + <p> + “His pulse is very high,” she said to the steward. “When did you take his + temperature?” She drew a little morocco case from her pocket and from that + took a clinical thermometer, which she shook up and down, eying the + patient meanwhile with a calm, impersonal scrutiny. The Lieutenant raised + his head and stared up at the white figure beside his cot. His eyes opened + and then shut quickly, with a startled look, in which doubt struggled with + wonderful happiness. His hand stole out fearfully and warily until it + touched her apron, and then, finding it was real, he clutched it + desperately, and twisting his face and body toward her, pulled her down, + clasping her hands in both of his, and pressing them close to his face and + eyes and lips. He put them from him for an instant, and looked at her + through his tears. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “sweetheart, I knew you’d come.” + </p> + <p> + As the nurse knelt on the deck beside him, her thermometer slipped from + her fingers and broke, and she gave an exclamation of annoyance. The young + Doctor picked up the pieces and tossed them overboard. Neither of them + spoke, but they smiled appreciatively. The Lieutenant was looking at the + nurse with the wonder and hope and hunger of soul in his eyes with which a + dying man looks at the cross the priest holds up before him. What he saw + where the German nurse was kneeling was a tall, fair girl with great bands + and masses of hair, with a head rising like a lily from a firm, white + throat, set on broad shoulders above a straight back and sloping breast—a + tall, beautiful creature, half-girl, half-woman, who looked back at him + shyly, but steadily. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The voice of the sick man was so sure and so sane that the young Doctor + started, and moved nearer to the head of the cot. “Listen, dearest,” the + Lieutenant whispered. “I wanted to tell you before I came South. But I did + not dare; and then I was afraid something might happen to me, and I could + never tell you, and you would never know. So I wrote it to you in the will + I made at Baiquiri, the night before the landing. If you hadn’t come now, + you would have learned it in that way. You would have read there that + there never was any one but you; the rest were all dream people, foolish, + silly—mad. There is no one else in the world but you; you have been + the only thing in life that has counted. I thought I might do something + down here that would make you care. But I got shot going up a hill, and + after that I wasn’t able to do anything. It was very hot, and the hills + were on fire; and they took me prisoner, and kept me tied down here, + burning on these coals. I can’t live much longer, but now that I have told + you I can have peace. They tried to kill me before you came; but they + didn’t know I loved you, they didn’t know that men who love you can’t die. + They tried to starve my love for you, to burn it out of me; they tried to + reach it with their knives. But my love for you is my soul, and they can’t + kill a man’s soul. Dear heart, I have lived because you lived. Now that + you know—now that you understand—what does it matter?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Bergen shook her head with great vigor. “Nonsense,” she said, + cheerfully. “You are not going to die. As soon as we move you out of this + rain, and some food cook—” + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” cried the young Doctor, savagely. “Do you want to kill him?” + </p> + <p> + When she spoke the patient had thrown his arms heavily across his face, + and had fallen back, lying rigid on the pillow. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor led the way across the prostrate bodies, apologizing as he + went. “I am sorry I spoke so quickly,” he said, “but he thought you were + real. I mean he thought you were some one he really knew—” + </p> + <p> + “He was just delirious,” said the German nurse, calmly. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor mixed himself a Scotch and soda and drank it with a single + gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” he said to the ward-room. “I feel as though I’d been opening + another man’s letters.” + </p> + <p> + The transport drove through the empty seas with heavy, clumsy upheavals, + rolling like a buoy. Having been originally intended for the + freight-carrying trade, she had no sympathy with hearts that beat for a + sight of their native land, or for lives that counted their remaining + minutes by the throbbing of her engines. Occasionally, without apparent + reason, she was thrown violently from her course: but it was invariably + the case that when her stern went to starboard, something splashed in the + water on her port side and drifted past her, until, when it had cleared + the blades of her propeller, a voice cried out, and she was swung back on + her home-bound track again. + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant missed the familiar palms and the tiny block-house; and + seeing nothing beyond the iron rails but great wastes of gray water, he + decided he was on board a prison-ship, or that he had been strapped to a + raft and cast adrift. People came for hours at a time and stood at the + foot of his cot, and talked with him and he to them—people he had + loved and people he had long forgotten, some of whom he had thought were + dead. One of them he could have sworn he had seen buried in a deep trench, + and covered with branches of palmetto. He had heard the bugler, with tears + choking him, sound “taps;” and with his own hand he had placed the dead + man’s campaign hat on the mound of fresh earth above the grave. Yet here + he was still alive, and he came with other men of his troop to speak to + him; but when he reached out to them they were gone—the real and the + unreal, the dead and the living—and even She disappeared whenever he + tried to take her hand, and sometimes the hospital steward drove her away. + </p> + <p> + “Did that young lady say when she was coming back again?” he asked the + steward. + </p> + <p> + “The young lady! What young lady?” asked the steward, wearily. + </p> + <p> + “The one who has been sitting there,” he answered. He pointed with his + gaunt hand at the man in the next cot. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that young lady. Yes, she’s coming back. She’s just gone below to + fetch you some hard-tack.” + </p> + <p> + The young volunteer in the next cot whined grievously. + </p> + <p> + “That crazy man gives me the creeps,” he groaned. “He’s always waking me + up, and looking at me as though he was going to eat me.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut your head,” said the steward. “He’s a better man crazy than you’ll + ever be with the little sense you’ve got. And he has two Mauser holes in + him. Crazy, eh? It’s a damned good thing for you that there was about four + thousand of us regulars just as crazy as him, or you’d never seen the top + of the hill.” + </p> + <p> + One morning there was a great commotion on deck, and all the convalescents + balanced themselves on the rail, shivering in their pajamas, and pointed + one way. The transport was moving swiftly and smoothly through water as + flat as a lake, and making a great noise with her steam-whistle. The noise + was echoed by many more steam-whistles; and the ghosts of out-bound ships + and tugs and excursion steamers ran past her out of the mist and + disappeared, saluting joyously. All of the excursion steamers had a heavy + list to the side nearest the transport, and the ghosts on them crowded to + that rail and waved handkerchiefs and cheered. The fog lifted suddenly, + and between the iron rails the Lieutenant saw high green hills on either + side of a great harbor. + </p> + <p> + Houses and trees and thousands of masts swept past like a panorama; and + beyond was a mirage of three cities, with curling smoke-wreaths and + sky-reaching buildings, and a great swinging bridge, and a giant statue of + a woman waving a welcome home. + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant surveyed the spectacle with cynical disbelief. He was far + too wise and far too cunning to be bewitched by it. In his heart he pitied + the men about him, who laughed wildly, and shouted, and climbed recklessly + to the rails and ratlines. He had been deceived too often not to know that + it was not real. He knew from cruel experience that in a few moments the + tall buildings would crumble away, the thousands of columns of white smoke + that flashed like snow in the sun, the busy, shrieking tug-boats, and the + great statue would vanish into the sea, leaving it gray and bare. He + closed his eyes and shut the vision out. It was so beautiful that it + tempted him; but he would not be mocked, and he buried his face in his + hands. They were carrying the farce too far, he thought. It was really too + absurd; for now they were at a wharf which was so real that, had he not + known by previous suffering, he would have been utterly deceived by it. + And there were great crowds of smiling, cheering people, and a waiting + guard of honor in fresh uniforms, and rows of police pushing the people + this way and that; and these men about him were taking it all quite + seriously, and making ready to disembark, carrying their blanket-rolls and + rifles with them. + </p> + <p> + A band was playing joyously, and the man in the next cot, who was being + lifted to a stretcher, said, “There’s the Governor and his staff; that’s + him in the high hat.” It was really very well done. The Custom-house and + the Elevated Railroad and Castle Garden were as like to life as a + photograph, and the crowd was as well handled as a mob in a play. His + heart ached for it so that he could not bear the pain, and he turned his + back on it. It was cruel to keep it up so long. His keeper lifted him in + his arms, and pulled him into a dirty uniform which had belonged, + apparently, to a much larger man—a man who had been killed probably, + for there were dark-brown marks of blood on the tunic and breeches. When + he tried to stand on his feet, Castle Garden and the Battery disappeared + in a black cloud of night, just as he knew they would; but when he opened + his eyes from the stretcher, they had returned again. It was a most + remarkably vivid vision. They kept it up so well. Now the young Doctor and + the hospital steward were pretending to carry him down a gang-plank and + into an open space; and he saw quite close to him a long line of + policemen, and behind them thousands of faces, some of them women’s faces—women + who pointed at him and then shook their heads and cried, and pressed their + hands to their cheeks, still looking at him. He wondered why they cried. + He did not know them, nor did they know him. No one knew him; these people + were only ghosts. + </p> + <p> + There was a quick parting in the crowd. A man he had once known shoved two + of the policemen to one side, and he heard a girl’s voice speaking his + name, like a sob; and She came running out across the open space and fell + on her knees beside the stretcher, and bent down over him, and he was + clasped in two young, firm arms. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is not real, of course it is not She,” he assured himself. + “Because She would not do such a thing. Before all these people She would + not do it.” + </p> + <p> + But he trembled and his heart throbbed so cruelly that he could not bear + the pain. + </p> + <p> + She was pretending to cry. + </p> + <p> + “They wired us you had started for Tampa on the hospital ship,” She was + saying, “and Aunt and I went all the way there before we heard you had + been sent North. We have been on the cars a week. That is why I missed + you. Do you understand? It was not my fault. I tried to come. Indeed, I + tried to come.” + </p> + <p> + She turned her head and looked up fearfully at the young Doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, why does he look at me like that?” she asked. “He doesn’t know + me. Is he very ill? Tell me the truth.” She drew in her breath quickly. + “Of course you will tell me the truth.” + </p> + <p> + When she asked the question he felt her arms draw tight about his + shoulders. It was as though she was holding him to herself, and from some + one who had reached out for him. In his trouble he turned to his old + friend and keeper. His voice was hoarse and very low. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the same young lady who was on the transport—the one you + used to drive away?” + </p> + <p> + In his embarrassment, the hospital steward blushed under his tan, and + stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it’s the same young lady,” the Doctor answered briskly. “And I + won’t let them drive her away.” He turned to her, smiling gravely. “I + think his condition has ceased to be dangerous, madam,” he said. + </p> + <p> + People who in a former existence had been his friends, and Her brother, + gathered about his stretcher and bore him through the crowd and lifted him + into a carriage filled with cushions, among which he sank lower and lower. + Then She sat beside him, and he heard Her brother say to the coachman, + “Home, and drive slowly and keep on the asphalt.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage moved forward, and She put her arm about him and his head + fell on her shoulder, and neither of them spoke. The vision had lasted so + long now that he was torn with the joy that after all it might be real. + But he could not bear the awakening if it were not, so he raised his head + fearfully and looked up into the beautiful eyes above him. His brows were + knit, and he struggled with a great doubt and an awful joy. + </p> + <p> + “Dearest,” he said, “is it real?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it real?” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + Even as a dream, it was so wonderfully beautiful that he was satisfied if + it could only continue so, if but for a little while. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” he begged again, trembling, “that it is going to last much + longer?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, and, bending her head slowly, kissed him. + </p> + <p> + “It is going to last—always,” she said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAN WITH ONE TALENT + </h2> + <p> + The mass-meeting in the Madison Square Garden which was to help set Cuba + free was finished, and the people were pushing their way out of the + overheated building into the snow and sleet of the streets. They had been + greatly stirred and the spell of the last speaker still hung so heavily + upon them that as they pressed down the long corridor they were still + speaking loudly in his praise. + </p> + <p> + A young man moved eagerly amongst them, and pushed his way to wherever a + voice was raised above the rest. He strained forward, listening openly, as + though he tried to judge the effect of the meeting by the verdict of those + about him. + </p> + <p> + But the words he overheard seemed to clash with what he wished them to be, + and the eager look on his face changed to one of doubt and of grave + disappointment. When he had reached the sidewalk he stopped and stood + looking back alternately into the lighted hall and at the hurrying crowds + which were dispersing rapidly. He made a movement as though he would + recall them, as though he felt they were still unconvinced, as though + there was much still left unsaid. + </p> + <p> + A fat stranger halted at his elbow to light his cigar, and glancing up + nodded his head approvingly. + </p> + <p> + “Fine speaker, Senator Stanton, ain’t he?” he said. + </p> + <p> + The young man answered eagerly. “Yes,” he assented, “he is a great orator, + but how could he help but speak well with such a subject?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you ought to have heard him last November at Tammany Hall,” the fat + stranger answered. “He wasn’t quite up to himself to-night. He wasn’t so + interested. Those Cubans are foreigners, you see, but you ought to heard + him last St. Patrick’s day on Home Rule for Ireland. Then he was talking! + That speech made him a United States senator, I guess. I don’t just see + how he expects to win out on this Cuba game. The Cubans haven’t got no + votes.” + </p> + <p> + The young man opened his eyes in some bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + “He speaks for the good of Cuba, for the sake of humanity,” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “What?” inquired the fat stranger. “Oh, yes, of course. Well, I must be + getting on. Good-night, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger moved on his way, but the young man still lingered + uncertainly in the snow-swept corridor shivering violently with the cold + and stamping his feet for greater comfort. His face was burned to a deep + red, which seemed to have come from some long exposure to a tropical sun, + but which held no sign of health. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes were + lighted with the fire of fever and from time to time he was shaken by + violent bursts of coughing which caused him to reach toward one of the + pillars for support. + </p> + <p> + As the last of the lights went out in the Garden, the speaker of the + evening and three of his friends came laughing and talking down the long + corridor. Senator Stanton was a conspicuous figure at any time, and even + in those places where his portraits had not penetrated he was at once + recognized as a personage. Something in his erect carriage and an unusual + grace of movement, and the power and success in his face, made men turn to + look at him. He had been told that he resembled the early portraits of + Henry Clay, and he had never quite forgotten the coincidence. + </p> + <p> + The senator was wrapping the collar of his fur coat around his throat and + puffing contentedly at a fresh cigar, and as he passed, the night watchman + and the ushers bowed to the great man and stood looking after him with the + half-humorous, half-envious deference that the American voter pays to the + successful politician. At the sidewalk, the policemen hurried to open the + door of his carriage and in their eagerness made a double line, through + which he passed nodding to them gravely. The young man who had stood so + long in waiting pushed his way through the line to his side. + </p> + <p> + “Senator Stanton,” he began timidly, “might I speak to you a moment? My + name is Arkwright; I am just back from Cuba, and I want to thank you for + your speech. I am an American, and I thank God that I am since you are + too, sir. No one has said anything since the war began that compares with + what you said to-night. You put it nobly, and I know, for I’ve been there + for three years, only I can’t make other people understand it, and I am + thankful that some one can. You’ll forgive my stopping you, sir, but I + wanted to thank you. I feel it very much.” + </p> + <p> + Senator Stanton’s friends had already seated themselves in his carriage + and were looking out of the door and smiling with mock patience. But the + senator made no move to follow them. Though they were his admirers they + were sometimes skeptical, and he was not sorry that they should hear this + uninvited tribute. So he made a pretence of buttoning his long coat about + him, and nodded encouragingly to Arkwright to continue. “I’m glad you + liked it, sir,” he said with the pleasant, gracious smile that had won him + a friend wherever it had won him a vote. “It is very satisfactory to know + from one who is well informed on the subject that what I have said is + correct. The situation there is truly terrible. You have just returned, + you say? Where were you—in Havana?” + </p> + <p> + “No, in the other provinces, sir,” Arkwright answered. “I have been all + over the island, I am a civil engineer. The truth has not been half told + about Cuba, I assure you, sir. It is massacre there, not war. It is partly + so through ignorance, but nevertheless it is massacre. And what makes it + worse is, that it is the massacre of the innocents. That is what I liked + best of what you said in that great speech, the part about the women and + children.” + </p> + <p> + He reached out his hands detainingly, and then drew back as though in + apology for having already kept the great man so long waiting in the cold. + “I wish I could tell you some of the terrible things I have seen,” he + began again, eagerly as Stanton made no movement to depart. “They are much + worse than those you instanced to-night, and you could make so much better + use of them than any one else. I have seen starving women nursing dead + babies, and sometimes starving babies sucking their dead mother’s breasts; + I have seen men cut down in the open roads and while digging in the fields—and + two hundred women imprisoned in one room without food and eaten with + small-pox, and huts burned while the people in them slept—” + </p> + <p> + The young man had been speaking impetuously, but he stopped as suddenly, + for the senator was not listening to him. He had lowered his eyes and was + looking with a glance of mingled fascination and disgust at Arkwright’s + hands. In his earnestness the young man had stretched them out, and as + they showed behind the line of his ragged sleeves the others could see, + even in the blurred light and falling snow, that the wrists of each hand + were gashed and cut in dark-brown lines like the skin of a mulatto, and in + places were a raw red, where the fresh skin had but just closed over. The + young man paused and stood shivering, still holding his hands out rigidly + before him. + </p> + <p> + The senator raised his eyes slowly and drew away. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” he said in a low voice, pointing with a gloved finger at + the black lines on the wrists. + </p> + <p> + A sergeant in the group of policemen who had closed around the speakers + answered him promptly from his profound fund of professional knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “That’s handcuffs, senator,” he said importantly, and glanced at Stanton + as though to signify that at a word from him he would take this suspicious + character into custody. The young man pulled the frayed cuffs of his shirt + over his wrists and tucked his hands, which the cold had frozen into an + ashy blue, under his armpits to warm them. + </p> + <p> + “No, they don’t use handcuffs in the field,” he said in the same low, + eager tone; “they use ropes and leather thongs; they fastened me behind a + horse and when he stumbled going down the trail it jerked me forward and + the cords would tighten and tear the flesh. But they have had a long time + to heal now. I have been eight months in prison.” + </p> + <p> + The young men at the carriage window had ceased smiling and were listening + intently. One of them stepped out and stood beside the carriage door + looking down at the shivering figure before him with a close and curious + scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “Eight months in prison!” echoed the police sergeant with a note of + triumph; “what did I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue!” said the young man at the carriage door. There was + silence for a moment, while the men looked at the senator, as though + waiting for him to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Where were you in prison, Mr. Arkwright?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “First in the calaboose at Santa Clara for two months, and then in + Cabanas. The Cubans who were taken when I was, were shot by the fusillade + on different days during this last month. Two of them, the Ezetas, were + father and son, and the Volunteer band played all the time the execution + was going on, so that the other prisoners might not hear them cry ‘Cuba + Libre’ when the order came to fire. But we heard them.” + </p> + <p> + The senator shivered slightly and pulled his fur collar up farther around + his face. “I’d like to talk with you,” he said, “if you have nothing to do + to-morrow. I’d like to go into this thing thoroughly. Congress must be + made to take some action.” + </p> + <p> + The young man clasped his hands eagerly. “Ah, Mr. Stanton, if you would,” + he cried, “if you would only give me an hour! I could tell you so much + that you could use. And you can believe what I say, sir—it is not + necessary to lie—God knows the truth is bad enough. I can give you + names and dates for everything I say. Or I can do better than that, sir. I + can take you there yourself—in three months I can show you all you + need to see, without danger to you in any way. And they would not know me, + now that I have grown a beard, and I am a skeleton to what I was. I can + speak the language well, and I know just what you should see, and then you + could come back as one speaking with authority and not have to say, ‘I + have read,’ or ‘have been told,’ but you can say, ‘These are the things I + have seen’—and you could free Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + The senator coughed and put the question aside for the moment with a wave + of the hand that held his cigar. “We will talk of that to-morrow also. + Come to lunch with me at one. My apartments are in the Berkeley on Fifth + Avenue. But aren’t you afraid to go back there?” he asked curiously. “I + should think you’d had enough of it. And you’ve got a touch of fever, + haven’t you?” He leaned forward and peered into the other’s eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It is only the prison fever,” the young man answered; “food and this cold + will drive that out of me. And I must go back. There is so much to do + there,” he added. “Ah, if I could tell them, as you can tell them, what I + feel here.” He struck his chest sharply with his hand, and on the instant + fell into a fit of coughing so violent that the young man at the carriage + door caught him around the waist, and one of the policemen supported him + from the other side. + </p> + <p> + “You need a doctor,” said the senator kindly. “I’ll ask mine to have a + look at you. Don’t forget, then, at one o’clock to-morrow. We will go into + this thing thoroughly.” He shook Arkwright warmly by the hand and stooping + stepped into the carriage. The young man who had stood at the door + followed him and crowded back luxuriously against the cushions. The + footman swung himself up beside the driver, and said “Uptown Delmonico’s,” + as he wrapped the fur rug around his legs, and with a salute from the + policemen and a scraping of hoofs on the slippery asphalt the great man + was gone. + </p> + <p> + “That poor fellow needs a doctor,” he said as the carriage rolled up the + avenue, “and he needs an overcoat, and he needs food. He needs about + almost everything, by the looks of him.” + </p> + <p> + But the voice of the young man in the corner of the carriage objected + drowsily— + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” he said, “it seemed to me that he had the one thing + needful.” + </p> + <p> + By one o’clock of the day following, Senator Stanton, having read the + reports of his speech in the morning papers, punctuated with “Cheers,” + “Tremendous enthusiasm” and more “Cheers,” was still in a willing frame of + mind toward Cuba and her self-appointed envoy, young Mr. Arkwright. + </p> + <p> + Over night he had had doubts but that the young man’s enthusiasm would + bore him on the morrow, but Mr. Arkwright, when he appeared, developed, on + the contrary, a practical turn of mind which rendered his suggestions both + flattering and feasible. He was still terribly in earnest, but he was + clever enough or serious enough to see that the motives which appealed to + him might not have sufficient force to move a successful statesman into + action. So he placed before the senator only those arguments and reasons + which he guessed were the best adapted to secure his interest and his + help. His proposal as he set it forth was simplicity itself. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a map of the island,” he said; “on it I have marked the places + you can visit in safety, and where you will meet the people you ought to + see. If you leave New York at midnight you can reach Tampa on the second + day. From Tampa we cross in another day to Havana. There you can visit the + Americans imprisoned in Morro and Cabanas, and in the streets you can see + the starving pacificos. From Havana I shall take you by rail to Jucaro, + Matanzas, Santa Clara and Cienfuegos. You will not be able to see the + insurgents in the fields—it is not necessary that you should—but + you can visit one of the sugar plantations and some of the insurgent + chiefs will run the forts by night and come in to talk with you. I will + show you burning fields and houses, and starving men and women by the + thousands, and men and women dying of fevers. You can see Cuban prisoners + shot by a firing squad and you can note how these rebels meet death. You + can see all this in three weeks and be back in New York in a month, as any + one can see it who wishes to learn the truth. Why, English members of + Parliament go all the way to India and British Columbia to inform + themselves about those countries, they travel thousands of miles, but only + one member of either of our houses of Congress has taken the trouble to + cross these eighty miles of water that lie between us and Cuba. You can + either go quietly and incognito, as it were, or you can advertise the fact + of your going, which would be better. And from the moment you start the + interest in your visit will grow and increase until there will be no topic + discussed in any of our papers except yourself, and what you are doing and + what you mean to do. + </p> + <p> + “By the time you return the people will be waiting, ready and eager to + hear whatever you may have to say. Your word will be the last word for + them. It is not as though you were some demagogue seeking notoriety, or a + hotel piazza correspondent at Key West or Jacksonville. You are the only + statesman we have, the only orator Americans will listen to, and I tell + you that when you come before them and bring home to them as only you can + the horrors of this war, you will be the only man in this country. You + will be the Patrick Henry of Cuba; you can go down to history as the man + who added the most beautiful island in the seas to the territory of the + United States, who saved thousands of innocent children and women, and who + dared to do what no other politician has dared to do—to go and see + for himself and to come back and speak the truth. It only means a month + out of your life, a month’s trouble and discomfort, but with no risk. What + is a month out of a lifetime, when that month means immortality to you and + life to thousands? In a month you would make a half dozen after-dinner + speeches and cause your friends to laugh and applaud. Why not wring their + hearts instead, and hold this thing up before them as it is, and shake it + in their faces? Show it to them in all its horror—bleeding, diseased + and naked, an offence to our humanity, and to our prated love of liberty, + and to our God.” + </p> + <p> + The young man threw himself eagerly forward and beat the map with his open + palm. But the senator sat apparently unmoved gazing thoughtfully into the + open fire, and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + While the luncheon was in progress the young gentleman who the night + before had left the carriage and stood at Arkwright’s side, had entered + the room and was listening intently. He had invited himself to some fresh + coffee, and had then relapsed into an attentive silence, following what + the others said with an amused and interested countenance. Stanton had + introduced him as Mr. Livingstone, and appeared to take it for granted + that Arkwright would know who he was. He seemed to regard him with a + certain deference which Arkwright judged was due to some fixed position + the young man held, either of social or of political value. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” said Stanton with consideration, “that I am prepared to + advocate the annexation of the island. It is a serious problem.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not urging that,” Arkwright interrupted anxiously; “the Cubans + themselves do not agree as to that, and in any event it is an + afterthought. Our object now should be to prevent further bloodshed. If + you see a man beating a boy to death, you first save the boy’s life and + decide afterward where he is to go to school. If there were any one else, + senator,” Arkwright continued earnestly, “I would not trouble you. But we + all know your strength in this country. You are independent and fearless, + and men of both parties listen to you. Surely, God has given you this + great gift of oratory, if you will forgive my speaking so, to use only in + a great cause. A grand organ in a cathedral is placed there to lift men’s + thoughts to high resolves and purposes, not to make people dance. A street + organ can do that. Now, here is a cause worthy of your great talents, + worthy of a Daniel Webster, of a Henry Clay.” + </p> + <p> + The senator frowned at the fire and shook his head doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “If they knew what I was down there for,” he asked, “wouldn’t they put me + in prison too?” + </p> + <p> + Arkwright laughed incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” he said; “you would go there as a private citizen, as a + tourist to look on and observe. Spain is not seeking complications of that + sort. She has troubles enough without imprisoning United States senators.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but these fevers now,” persisted Stanton, “they’re no respecter of + persons, I imagine. A United States senator is not above smallpox or + cholera.” + </p> + <p> + Arkwright shook his head impatiently and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “It is difficult to make it clear to one who has not been there,” he said. + “These people and soldiers are dying of fever because they are forced to + live like pigs, and they are already sick with starvation. A healthy man + like yourself would be in no more danger than you would be in walking + through the wards of a New York hospital.” + </p> + <p> + Senator Stanton turned in his armchair, and held up his hand impressively. + </p> + <p> + “If I were to tell them the things you have told me,” he said warningly, + “if I were to say I have seen such things—American property in + flames, American interests ruined, and that five times as many women and + children have died of fever and starvation in three months in Cuba as the + Sultan has massacred in Armenia in three years—it would mean war + with Spain.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Arkwright. + </p> + <p> + Stanton shrugged his shoulders and sank back again in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “It would either mean war,” Arkwright went on, “or it might mean the + sending of the Red Cross army to Cuba. It went to Constantinople, five + thousand miles away, to help the Armenian Christians—why has it + waited three years to go eighty miles to feed and clothe the Cuban women + and children? It is like sending help to a hungry peasant in Russia while + a man dies on your doorstep.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the senator, rising, “I will let you know to-morrow. If it is + the right thing to do, and if I can do it, of course it must be done. We + start from Tampa, you say? I know the presidents of all of those roads and + they’ll probably give me a private car for the trip down. Shall we take + any newspaper men with us, or shall I wait until I get back and be + interviewed? What do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “I would wait until my return,” Arkwright answered, his eyes glowing with + the hope the senator’s words had inspired, “and then speak to a + mass-meeting here and in Boston and in Chicago. Three speeches will be + enough. Before you have finished your last one the American warships will + be in the harbor of Havana.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, youth, youth!” said the senator, smiling gravely, “it is no light + responsibility to urge a country into war.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no light responsibility,” Arkwright answered, “to know you have the + chance to save the lives of thousands of little children and helpless + women and to let the chance pass.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so, that is quite true,” said the senator. “Well, good-morning. I + shall let you know to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Young Livingstone went down in the elevator with Arkwright, and when they + had reached the sidewalk stood regarding him for a moment in silence. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t count too much on Stanton, you know,” he said kindly; “he has + a way of disappointing people.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he can never disappoint me,” Arkwright answered confidently, “no + matter how much I expected. Besides, I have already heard him speak.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean that, I don’t mean he is disappointing as a speaker. Stanton + is a great orator, I think. Most of those Southerners are, and he’s the + only real orator I ever heard. But what I mean is, that he doesn’t go into + things impulsively; he first considers himself, and then he considers + every other side of the question before he commits himself to it. Before + he launches out on a popular wave he tries to find out where it is going + to land him. He likes the sort of popular wave that carries him along with + it where every one can see him; he doesn’t fancy being hurled up on the + beach with his mouth full of sand.” + </p> + <p> + “You are saying that he is selfish, self-seeking?” Arkwright demanded with + a challenge in his voice. “I thought you were his friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is selfish, and yes, I am his friend,” the young man answered, + smiling; “at least, he seems willing to be mine. I am saying nothing + against him that I have not said to him. If you’ll come back with me up + the elevator I’ll tell him he’s a self-seeker and selfish, and with no + thought above his own interests. He won’t mind. He’d say I cannot + comprehend his motives. Why, you’ve only to look at his record. When the + Venezuelan message came out he attacked the President and declared he was + trying to make political capital and to drag us into war, and that what we + wanted was arbitration; but when the President brought out the Arbitration + Treaty he attacked that too in the Senate and destroyed it. Why? Not + because he had convictions, but because the President had refused a + foreign appointment to a friend of his in the South. He has been a free + silver man for the last ten years, he comes from a free silver state, and + the members of the legislature that elected him were all for silver, but + this last election his Wall Street friends got hold of him and worked on + his feelings, and he repudiated his party, his state, and his constituents + and came out for gold.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but surely,” Arkwright objected, “that took courage? To own that + for ten years you had been wrong, and to come out for the right at the + last.” + </p> + <p> + Livingstone stared and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s all a question of + motives,” he said indifferently. “I don’t want to shatter your idol; I + only want to save you from counting too much on him.” + </p> + <p> + When Arkwright called on the morrow Senator Stanton was not at home, and + the day following he was busy, and could give him only a brief interview. + There were previous engagements and other difficulties in the way of his + going which he had not foreseen, he said, and he feared he should have to + postpone his visit to Cuba indefinitely. He asked if Mr. Arkwright would + be so kind as to call again within a week; he would then be better able to + give him a definite answer. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright left the apartment with a sensation of such keen disappointment + that it turned him ill and dizzy. He felt that the great purpose of his + life was being played with and put aside. But he had not selfish + resentment on his own account; he was only the more determined to + persevere. He considered new arguments and framed new appeals; and one + moment blamed himself bitterly for having foolishly discouraged the + statesman by too vivid pictures of the horrors he might encounter, and the + next, questioned if he had not been too practical and so failed because he + had not made the terrible need of immediate help his sole argument. Every + hour wasted in delay meant, as he knew, the sacrifice of many lives, and + there were other, more sordid and more practical, reasons for speedy + action. For his supply of money was running low and there was now barely + enough remaining to carry him through the month of travel he had planned + to take at Stanton’s side. What would happen to him when that momentous + trip was over was of no consequence. He would have done the work as far as + his small share in it lay, he would have set in motion a great power that + was to move Congress and the people of the United States to action. If he + could but do that, what became of him counted for nothing. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of the week his fears and misgivings were scattered + gloriously and a single line from the senator set his heart leaping and + brought him to his knees in gratitude and thanksgiving. On returning one + afternoon to the mean lodging into which he had moved to save his money, + he found a telegram from Stanton and he tore it open trembling between + hope and fear. + </p> + <p> + “Have arranged to leave for Tampa with you Monday, at midnight” it read. + “Call for me at ten o’clock same evening.—STANTON.” + </p> + <p> + Arkwright read the message three times. There was a heavy, suffocating + pressure at his heart as though it had ceased beating. He sank back limply + upon the edge of his bed and clutching the piece of paper in his two hands + spoke the words aloud triumphantly as though to assure himself that they + were true. Then a flood of unspeakable relief, of happiness and gratitude, + swept over him, and he turned and slipped to the floor, burying his face + in the pillow, and wept out his thanks upon his knees. + </p> + <p> + A man so deeply immersed in public affairs as was Stanton and with such a + multiplicity of personal interests, could not prepare to absent himself + for a month without his intention becoming known, and on the day when he + was to start for Tampa the morning newspapers proclaimed the fact that he + was about to visit Cuba. They gave to his mission all the importance and + display that Arkwright had foretold. Some of the newspapers stated that he + was going as a special commissioner of the President to study and report; + others that he was acting in behalf of the Cuban legation in Washington + and had plenipotentiary powers. Opposition organs suggested that he was + acting in the interests of the sugar trust, and his own particular organ + declared that it was his intention to free Cuba at the risk of his own + freedom, safety, and even life. + </p> + <p> + The Spanish minister in Washington sent a cable for publication to Madrid, + stating that a distinguished American statesman was about to visit Cuba, + to investigate, and, later, to deny the truth of the disgraceful libels + published concerning the Spanish officials on the island by the papers of + the United States. At the same time he cabled in cipher to the + captain-general in Havana to see that the distinguished statesman was + closely spied upon from the moment of his arrival until his departure, and + to place on the “suspect” list all Americans and Cubans who ventured to + give him any information. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon papers enlarged on the importance of the visit and on the + good that would surely come of it. They told that Senator Stanton had + refused to be interviewed or to disclose the object of his journey. But it + was enough, they said, that some one in authority was at last to seek out + the truth, and added that no one would be listened to with greater respect + than would the Southern senator. On this all the editorial writers were + agreed. + </p> + <p> + The day passed drearily for Arkwright. Early in the morning he packed his + valise and paid his landlord, and for the remainder of the day walked the + streets or sat in the hotel corridor waiting impatiently for each fresh + edition of the papers. In them he read the signs of the great upheaval of + popular feeling that was to restore peace and health and plenty to the + island for which he had given his last three years of energy and life. + </p> + <p> + He was trembling with excitement, as well as with the cold, when at ten + o’clock precisely he stood at Senator Stanton’s door. He had forgotten to + eat his dinner, and the warmth of the dimly lit hall and the odor of rich + food which was wafted from an inner room touched his senses with + tantalizing comfort. + </p> + <p> + “The senator says you are to come this way, sir,” the servant directed. He + took Arkwright’s valise from his hand and parted the heavy curtains that + hid the dining-room, and Arkwright stepped in between them and then + stopped in some embarrassment. He found himself in the presence of a + number of gentlemen seated at a long dinner-table, who turned their heads + as he entered and peered at him through the smoke that floated in light + layers above the white cloth. The dinner had been served, but the + senator’s guests still sat with their chairs pushed back from a table + lighted by candles under yellow shades, and covered with beautiful flowers + and with bottles of varied sizes in stands of quaint and intricate design. + Senator Stanton’s tall figure showed dimly through the smoke, and his deep + voice hailed Arkwright cheerily from the farther end of the room. “This + way, Mr. Arkwright,” he said. “I have a chair waiting for you here.” He + grasped Arkwright’s hand warmly and pulled him into the vacant place at + his side. An elderly gentleman on Arkwright’s other side moved to make + more room for him and shoved a liqueur glass toward him with a friendly + nod and pointed at an open box of cigars. He was a fine-looking man, and + Arkwright noticed that he was regarding him with a glance of the keenest + interest. All of those at the table were men of twice Arkwright’s age, + except Livingstone, whom he recognized and who nodded to him pleasantly + and at the same time gave an order to a servant, pointing at Arkwright as + he did so. Some of the gentlemen wore their business suits, and one + opposite Arkwright was still in his overcoat, and held his hat in his + hand. These latter seemed to have arrived after the dinner had begun, for + they formed a second line back of those who had places at the table; they + all seemed to know one another and were talking with much vivacity and + interest. + </p> + <p> + Stanton did not attempt to introduce Arkwright to his guests individually, + but said: “Gentlemen, this is Mr. Arkwright, of whom I have been telling + you, the young gentleman who has done such magnificent work for the cause + of Cuba.” Those who caught Arkwright’s eye nodded to him, and others + raised their glasses at him, but with a smile that he could not + understand. It was as though they all knew something concerning him of + which he was ignorant. He noted that the faces of some were strangely + familiar, and he decided that he must have seen their portraits in the + public prints. After he had introduced Arkwright, the senator drew his + chair slightly away from him and turned in what seemed embarrassment to + the man on his other side. The elderly gentleman next to Arkwright filled + his glass, a servant placed a small cup of coffee at his elbow, and he lit + a cigar and looked about him. + </p> + <p> + “You must find this weather very trying after the tropics,” his neighbor + said. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright assented cordially. The brandy was flowing through his veins and + warming him; he forgot that he was hungry, and the kind, interested + glances of those about him set him at his ease. It was a propitious start, + he thought, a pleasant leave-taking for the senator and himself, full of + good will and good wishes. + </p> + <p> + He turned toward Stanton and waited until he had ceased speaking. + </p> + <p> + “The papers have begun well, haven’t they?” he asked, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + He had spoken in a low voice, almost in a whisper, but those about the + table seemed to have heard him, for there was silence instantly and when + he glanced up he saw the eyes of all turned upon him and he noticed on + their faces the same smile he had seen there when he entered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Stanton answered constrainedly. “Yes, I—” he lowered his + voice, but the silence still continued. Stanton had his eyes fixed on the + table, but now he frowned and half rose from his chair. + </p> + <p> + “I want to speak with you, Arkwright,” he said. “Suppose we go into the + next room. I’ll be back in a moment,” he added, nodding to the others. + </p> + <p> + But the man on his right removed his cigar from his lips and said in an + undertone, “No, sit down, stay where you are;” and the elderly gentleman + at Arkwright’s side laid his hand detainingly on his arm. “Oh, you won’t + take Mr. Arkwright away from us, Stanton?” he asked, smiling. + </p> + <p> + Stanton shrugged his shoulders and sat down again, and there was a + moment’s pause. It was broken by the man in the overcoat, who laughed. + </p> + <p> + “He’s paying you a compliment, Mr. Arkwright,” he said. He pointed with + his cigar to the gentleman at Arkwright’s side. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand,” Arkwright answered doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a compliment to your eloquence—he’s afraid to leave you alone + with the senator. Livingstone’s been telling us that you are a better + talker than Stanton.” Arkwright turned a troubled countenance toward the + men about the table, and then toward Livingstone, but that young man had + his eyes fixed gravely on the glasses before him and did not raise them. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright felt a sudden, unreasonable fear of the circle of + strong-featured, serene and confident men about him. They seemed to be + making him the subject of a jest, to be enjoying something among + themselves of which he was in ignorance, but which concerned him closely. + He turned a white face toward Stanton. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean,” he began piteously, “that—that you are not going? + Is that it—tell me—is that what you wanted to say?” + </p> + <p> + Stanton shifted in his chair and muttered some words between his lips, + then turned toward Arkwright and spoke quite clearly and distinctly. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry, Mr. Arkwright,” he said, “but I am afraid I’ll have to + disappoint you. Reasons I cannot now explain have arisen which make my + going impossible—quite impossible,” he added firmly—“not only + now, but later,” he went on quickly, as Arkwright was about to interrupt + him. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright made no second attempt to speak. He felt the muscles of his face + working and the tears coming to his eyes, and to hide his weakness he + twisted in his chair and sat staring ahead of him with his back turned to + the table. He heard Livingstone’s voice break the silence with some + hurried question, and immediately his embarrassment was hidden in a murmur + of answers and the moving of glasses as the men shifted in their chairs + and the laughter and talk went on as briskly as before. Arkwright saw a + sideboard before him and a servant arranging some silver on one of the + shelves. He watched the man do this with a concentrated interest as though + the dull, numbed feeling in his brain caught at the trifle in order to put + off, as long as possible, the consideration of the truth. + </p> + <p> + And then beyond the sideboard and the tapestry on the wall above it, he + saw the sun shining down upon the island of Cuba, he saw the royal palms + waving and bending, the dusty columns of Spanish infantry crawling along + the white roads and leaving blazing huts and smoking cane-fields in their + wake; he saw skeletons of men and women seeking for food among the refuse + of the street; he heard the order given to the firing squad, the splash of + the bullets as they scattered the plaster on the prison wall, and he saw a + kneeling figure pitch forward on its face, with a useless bandage tied + across its sightless eyes. + </p> + <p> + Senator Stanton brought him back with a sharp shake of the shoulder. He + had also turned his back on the others, and was leaning forward with his + elbows on his knees. He spoke rapidly, and in a voice only slightly raised + above a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “I am more than sorry, Arkwright,” he said earnestly. “You mustn’t blame + me altogether. I have had a hard time of it this afternoon. I wanted to + go. I really wanted to go. The thing appealed to me, it touched me, it + seemed as if I owed it to myself to do it. But they were too many for me,” + he added with a backward toss of his head toward the men around his table. + </p> + <p> + “If the papers had not told on me I could have got well away,” he went on + in an eager tone, “but as soon as they read of it, they came here straight + from their offices. You know who they are, don’t you?” he asked, and even + in his earnestness there was an added touch of importance in his tone as + he spoke the name of his party’s leader, of men who stood prominently in + Wall Street and who were at the head of great trusts. + </p> + <p> + “You see how it is,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “They have + enormous interests at stake. They said I would drag them into war, that I + would disturb values, that the business interests of the country would + suffer. I’m under obligations to most of them, they have advised me in + financial matters, and they threatened—they threatened to make it + unpleasant for me.” His voice hardened and he drew in his breath quickly, + and laughed. “You wouldn’t understand if I were to tell you. It’s rather + involved. And after all, they may be right, agitation may be bad for the + country. And your party leader after all is your party leader, isn’t he, + and if he says ‘no’ what are you to do? My sympathies are just as keen for + these poor women and children as ever, but as these men say, ‘charity + begins at home,’ and we mustn’t do anything to bring on war prices again, + or to send stocks tumbling about our heads, must we?” He leaned back in + his chair again and sighed. “Sympathy is an expensive luxury, I find,” he + added. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright rose stiffly and pushed Stanton away from him with his hand. He + moved like a man coming out of a dream. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk to me like that,” he said in a low voice. The noise about the + table ended on the instant, but Arkwright did not notice that it had + ceased. “You know I don’t understand that,” he went on; “what does it + matter to me!” He put his hand up to the side of his face and held it + there, looking down at Stanton. He had the dull, heavy look in his eyes of + a man who has just come through an operation under some heavy drug. “‘Wall + Street,’ ‘trusts,’ ‘party leaders,’” he repeated, “what are they to me? + The words don’t reach me, they have lost their meaning, it is a language I + have forgotten, thank God!” he added. He turned and moved his eyes around + the table, scanning the faces of the men before him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are twelve to one,” he said at last, still speaking dully and in + a low voice, as though he were talking to himself. “You have won a noble + victory, gentlemen. I congratulate you. But I do not blame you, we are all + selfish and self-seeking. I thought I was working only for Cuba, but I was + working for myself, just as you are. I wanted to feel that it was I who + had helped to bring relief to that plague-spot, that it was through my + efforts the help had come. Yes, if he had done as I asked, I suppose I + would have taken the credit.” + </p> + <p> + He swayed slightly, and to steady himself caught at the back of his chair. + But at the same moment his eyes glowed fiercely and he held himself erect + again. He pointed with his finger at the circle of great men who sat + looking up at him in curious silence. + </p> + <p> + “You are like a ring of gamblers around a gaming table,” he cried wildly, + “who see nothing but the green cloth and the wheel and the piles of money + before them, who forget in watching the money rise and fall, that outside + the sun is shining, that human beings are sick and suffering, that men are + giving their lives for an idea, for a sentiment, for a flag. You are the + money-changers in the temple of this great republic and the day will come, + I pray to God, when you will be scourged and driven out with whips. Do you + think you can form combines and deals that will cheat you into heaven? Can + your ‘trusts’ save your souls—is ‘Wall Street’ the strait and narrow + road to salvation?” + </p> + <p> + The men about the table leaned back and stared at Arkwright in as great + amazement as though he had violently attempted an assault upon their + pockets, or had suddenly gone mad in their presence. Some of them frowned, + and others appeared not to have heard, and others smiled grimly and waited + for him to continue as though they were spectators at a play. + </p> + <p> + The political leader broke the silence with a low aside to Stanton. “Does + the gentleman belong to the Salvation Army?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright whirled about and turned upon him fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Old gods give way to new gods,” he cried. “Here is your brother. I am + speaking for him. Do you ever think of him? How dare you sneer at me?” he + cried. “You can crack your whip over that man’s head and turn him from + what in his heart and conscience he knows is right; you can crack your + whip over the men who call themselves free-born American citizens and who + have made you their boss—sneer at them if you like, but you have no + collar on my neck. If you are a leader, why don’t you lead your people to + what is good and noble? Why do you stop this man in the work God sent him + here to do? You would make a party hack of him, a political prostitute, + something lower than the woman who walks the streets. She sells her body—this + man is selling his soul.” + </p> + <p> + He turned, trembling and quivering, and shook his finger above the + upturned face of the senator. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done with your talents, Stanton?” he cried. “What have you + done with your talents?” + </p> + <p> + The man in the overcoat struck the table before him with his fist so that + the glasses rang. + </p> + <p> + “By God,” he laughed, “I call him a better speaker than Stanton! + Livingstone’s right, he IS better than Stanton—but he lacks + Stanton’s knack of making himself popular,” he added. He looked around the + table inviting approbation with a smile, but no one noticed him, nor spoke + to break the silence. + </p> + <p> + Arkwright heard the words dully and felt that he was being mocked. He + covered his face with his hands and stood breathing brokenly; his body was + still trembling with an excitement he could not master. + </p> + <p> + Stanton rose from his chair and shook him by the shoulder. “Are you mad, + Arkwright?” he cried. “You have no right to insult my guests or me. Be + calm—control yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter what I say?” Arkwright went on desperately. “I am + mad. Yes, that is it, I am mad. They have won and I have lost, and it + drove me beside myself. I counted on you. I knew that no one else could + let my people go. But I’ll not trouble you again. I wish you good-night, + sir, and good-bye. If I have been unjust, you must forget it.” + </p> + <p> + He turned sharply, but Stanton placed a detaining hand on his shoulder. + “Wait,” he commanded querulously; “where are you going? Will you, still—?” + </p> + <p> + Arkwright bowed his head. “Yes,” he answered. “I have but just time now to + catch our train—my train, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + He looked up at Stanton and taking his hand in both of his, drew the man + toward him. All the wildness and intolerance in his manner had passed, and + as he raised his eyes they were full of a firm resolve. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said simply; “there is yet time. Leave these people behind you. + What can you answer when they ask what have you done with your talents?” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Arkwright,” the senator exclaimed angrily, pulling his hand + away; “don’t talk like a hymn-book, and don’t make another scene. What you + ask is impossible. Tell me what I can do to help you in any other way, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” repeated the young man firmly. + </p> + <p> + “The world may judge you by what you do to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Stanton looked at the boy for a brief moment with a strained and eager + scrutiny, and then turned away abruptly and shook his head in silence, and + Arkwright passed around the table and on out of the room. + </p> + <p> + A month later, as the Southern senator was passing through the + reading-room of the Union Club, Livingstone beckoned to him, and handing + him an afternoon paper pointed at a paragraph in silence. + </p> + <p> + The paragraph was dated Sagua la Grande, and read: + </p> + <p> + “The body of Henry Arkwright, an American civil engineer, was brought into + Sagua to-day by a Spanish column. It was found lying in a road three miles + beyond the line of forts. Arkwright was surprised by a guerilla force + while attempting to make his way to the insurgent camp, and on resisting + was shot. The body has been handed over to the American consul for + interment. It is badly mutilated.” + </p> + <p> + Stanton lowered the paper and stood staring out of the window at the + falling snow and the cheery lights and bustling energy of the avenue. + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow,” he said, “he wanted so much to help them. And he didn’t + accomplish anything, did he?” + </p> + <p> + Livingstone stared at the older man and laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know,” he said. “He died. Some of us only live.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE VAGRANT + </h2> + <p> + His Excellency Sir Charles Greville, K. C. M. G., Governor of the Windless + Islands, stood upon the veranda of Government House surveying the new day + with critical and searching eyes. Sir Charles had been so long absolute + monarch of the Windless Isles that he had assumed unconsciously a mental + attitude of suzerainty over even the glittering waters of the Caribbean + Sea, and the coral reefs under the waters, and the rainbow skies that + floated above them. But on this particular morning not even the critical + eye of the Governor could distinguish a single flaw in the tropical + landscape before him. + </p> + <p> + The lawn at his feet ran down to meet the dazzling waters of the bay, the + blue waters of the bay ran to meet a great stretch of absinthe green, the + green joined a fairy sky of pink and gold and saffron. Islands of coral + floated on the sea of absinthe, and derelict clouds of mother-of-pearl + swung low above them, starting from nowhere and going nowhere, but + drifting beautifully, like giant soap-bubbles of light and color. Where + the lawn touched the waters of the bay the cocoanut-palms reached their + crooked lengths far up into the sunshine, and as the sea-breeze stirred + their fronds they filled the hot air with whispers and murmurs like the + fluttering of many fans. Nature smiled boldly upon the Governor, confident + in her bountiful beauty, as though she said, “Surely you cannot but be + pleased with me to-day.” And, as though in answer, the critical and + searching glance of Sir Charles relaxed. + </p> + <p> + The crunching of the gravel and the rattle of the sentry’s musket at + salute recalled him to his high office and to the duties of the morning. + He waved his hand, and, as though it were a wand, the sentry moved again, + making his way to the kitchen-garden, and so around Government House and + back to the lawn-tennis court, maintaining in his solitary pilgrimage the + dignity of her Majesty’s representative, as well as her Majesty’s power + over the Windless Isles. + </p> + <p> + The Governor smiled slightly, with the ease of mind of one who finds all + things good. Supreme authority, surroundings of endless beauty, the + respectful, even humble, deference of his inferiors, and never even an + occasional visit from a superior, had in four years lowered him into a bed + of ease and self-satisfaction. He was cut off from the world, and yet of + it. Each month there came, via Jamaica, the three weeks’ old copy of The + Weekly Times; he subscribed to Mudie’s Colonial Library; and from the + States he had imported an American lawn-mower, the mechanism of which no + one as yet understood. Within his own borders he had created a healthy, + orderly seaport out of what had been a sink of fever and a refuge for all + the ne’er-do-wells and fugitive revolutionists of Central America. + </p> + <p> + He knew, as he sat each evening on his veranda, looking across the bay, + that in the world beyond the pink and gold sunset men were still panting, + struggling, and starving; crises were rising and passing; strikes and + panics, wars and the rumors of wars, swept from continent to continent; a + plague crept through India; a filibuster with five hundred men at his back + crossed an imaginary line and stirred the world from Cape Town to London; + Emperors were crowned; the good Queen celebrated the longest reign; and a + captain of artillery imprisoned in a swampy island in the South Atlantic + caused two hemispheres to clamor for his rescue, and lit a race war that + stretched from Algiers to the boulevards. + </p> + <p> + And yet, at the Windless Isles, all these happenings seemed to Sir Charles + like the morning’s memory of a dream. For these things never crossed the + ring of the coral reefs; he saw them only as pictures in an illustrated + paper a month old. And he was pleased to find that this was so. He was + sufficient to himself, with his own responsibilities and social duties and + public works. + </p> + <p> + He was a man in authority, who said to others, “Come!” and “Go!” Under him + were commissioners, and under the commissioners district inspectors and + boards of education and of highways. For the better health of the colony + he had planted trees that sucked the malaria from the air; for its better + morals he had substituted as a Sunday amusement cricket-matches for + cock-fights; and to keep it at peace he had created a local constabulary + of native negroes, and had dressed them in the cast-off uniforms of London + policemen. His handiwork was everywhere, and his interest was all sunk in + his handiwork. The days passed gorgeous with sunshine, the nights breathed + with beauty. It was an existence of leisurely occupation, and one that + promised no change, and he was content. + </p> + <p> + As it was Thursday, the Council met that morning, and some questions of + moment to the colony were to be brought up for consideration. The question + of the dog-tax was one which perplexed Sir Charles most particularly. The + two Councillors elected by the people and the three appointed by the crown + had disagreed as to this tax. Of the five hundred British subjects at the + seaport, all but ten were owners of dogs, and it had occurred to Sassoon, + the chemist, that a tax of half-a-crown a year on each of these dogs would + meet the expense of extending the oyster-shell road to the new + cricket-grounds. To this Snellgrove, who held the contract for the + narrow-gauge railroad, agreed; but the three crown Councillors opposed the + tax vigorously, on the ground that as scavengers alone the dogs were a + boon to the colony and should be encouraged. The fact that each of these + gentlemen owned not only one, but several dogs of high pedigree made their + position one of great delicacy. + </p> + <p> + There was no way by which the Governor could test the popular will in the + matter, except through his secretary, Mr. Clarges, who, at the + cricket-match between the local eleven and the officers and crew of H. M. + S. Partridge, had been informed by the other owners of several + fox-terriers that, in their opinion, the tax was a piece of “condemned + tommy-rot.” From this the Governor judged that it would not prove a + popular measure. As he paced the veranda, drawing deliberately on his + cigar, and considering to which party he should give the weight of his + final support, his thoughts were disturbed by the approach of a stranger, + who advanced along the gravel walk, guarded on either side by one of the + local constabulary. The stranger was young and of poor appearance. His + bare feet were bound in a pair of the rope sandals worn by the natives, + his clothing was of torn and soiled drill, and he fanned his face + nonchalantly with a sombrero of battered and shapeless felt. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles halted in his walk, and holding his cigar behind his back, + addressed himself to the sergeant. + </p> + <p> + “A vagrant?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The words seemed to bear some amusing significance to the stranger, for + his face lit instantly with a sweet and charming smile, and while he + turned to hear the sergeant’s reply, he regarded him with a kindly and + affectionate interest. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor turned to the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the law of this colony regarding vagrants?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not,” the young man answered. His tone was politely curious, and + suggested that he would like to be further informed as to the local + peculiarities of a foreign country. + </p> + <p> + “After two weeks’ residence,” the Governor recited, impressively, “all + able-bodied persons who will not work are put to work or deported. Have + you made any effort to find work?” + </p> + <p> + Again the young man smiled charmingly. He shook his head and laughed. “Oh + dear no,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The laugh struck the Governor as impertinent. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must leave by the next mail-steamer, if you have any money to + pay your passage, or, if you have no money, you must go to work on the + roads. Have you any money?” + </p> + <p> + “If I had, I wouldn’t—be a vagrant,” the young man answered. His + voice was low and singularly sweet. It seemed to suit the indolence of his + attitude and the lazy, inconsequent smile. “I called on our consular agent + here,” he continued, leisurely, “to write a letter home for money, but he + was disgracefully drunk, so I used his official note-paper to write to the + State Department about him, instead.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor’s deepest interest was aroused. The American consular agent + was one of the severest trials he was forced to endure. + </p> + <p> + “You are not a British subject, then? Ah, I see—and—er—your + representative was unable to assist you?” + </p> + <p> + “He was drunk,” the young man repeated, placidly. “He has been drunk ever + since I have been here, particularly in the mornings.” + </p> + <p> + He halted, as though the subject had lost interest for him, and gazed + pleasantly at the sunny bay and up at the moving palms. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said the Governor, as though he had not been interrupted, “as you + have no means of support, you will help support the colony until you can + earn money to leave it. That will do, sergeant.” + </p> + <p> + The young man placed his hat upon his head and turned to move away, but at + the first step he swayed suddenly and caught at the negro’s shoulder, + clasping his other hand across his eyes. The sergeant held him by the + waist, and looked up at the Governor with some embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “The young gentleman has not been well, Sir Charles,” he said, + apologetically. + </p> + <p> + The stranger straightened himself up and smiled vaguely. “I’m all right,” + he murmured. “Sun’s too hot.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” said the Governor. + </p> + <p> + He observed the stranger more closely. He noticed now that beneath the tan + his face was delicate and finely cut, and that his yellow hair clung + closely to a well-formed head. + </p> + <p> + “He seems faint. Has he had anything to eat?” asked the Governor. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant grinned guiltily. “Yes, Sir Charles; we’ve been feeding him + at the barracks. It’s fever, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles was not unacquainted with fallen gentlemen, “beach-combers,” + “remittance men,” and vagrants who had known better days, and there had + been something winning in this vagrant’s smile, and, moreover, he had + reported that thorn in his flesh, the consular agent, to the proper + authorities. + </p> + <p> + He conceived an interest in a young man who, though with naked feet, did + not hesitate to correspond with his Minister of Foreign Affairs. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been ill?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The young man looked up from where he had sunk on the steps, and roused + himself with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’ve had a touch of + Chagres ever since I was on the Isthmus. I was at work there on the + railroad.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you come here from Colon?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I worked up the Pacific side. I was clerking with Rossner Brothers at + Amapala for a while, because I speak a little German, and then I footed it + over to Puerto Cortez and got a job with the lottery people. They gave me + twenty dollars a month gold for rolling the tickets, and I put it all in + the drawing, and won as much as ten.” He laughed, and sitting erect, drew + from his pocket a roll of thin green papers. “These are for the next + drawing,” he said. “Have some?” he added. He held them towards the negro + sergeant, who, under the eye of the Governor, resisted, and then spread + the tickets on his knee like a hand at cards. “I stand to win a lot with + these,” he said, with a cheerful sigh. “You see, until the list’s + published I’m prospectively worth twenty thousand dollars. And,” he added, + “I break stones in the sun.” He rose unsteadily, and saluted the Governor + with a nod. “Good-morning, sir,” he said, “and thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” Sir Charles commanded. A new form of punishment had suggested + itself, in which justice was tempered with mercy. “Can you work one of + your American lawn-mowers?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The young man laughed delightedly. “I never tried,” he said, “but I’ve + seen it done.” + </p> + <p> + “If you’ve been ill, it would be murder to put you on the shell road.” The + Governor’s dignity relaxed into a smile. “I don’t desire international + complications,” he said. “Sergeant, take this—him—to the + kitchen, and tell Corporal Mallon to give him that American lawn-mowing + machine. Possibly he may understand its mechanism. Mallon only cuts holes + in the turf with it.” And he waved his hand in dismissal, and as the three + men moved away he buried himself again in the perplexities of the dog-tax. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later the deliberations of the Council were disturbed by a + loud and persistent rattle, like the whir of a Maxim gun, which proved, on + investigation, to arise from the American lawn-mower. The vagrant was + propelling it triumphantly across the lawn, and gazing down at it with the + same fond pride with which a nursemaid leans over the perambulator to + observe her lusty and gurgling charge. + </p> + <p> + The Councillors had departed, Sir Charles was thinking of breakfast, the + Maxim-like lawn-mower still irritated the silent hush of midday, when from + the waters of the inner harbor there came suddenly the sharp report of a + saluting gun and the rush of falling anchor-chains. There was still a week + to pass before the mail-steamer should arrive, and H. M. S. Partridge had + departed for Nassau. Besides these ships, no other vessel had skirted the + buoys of the bay in eight long smiling months. Mr. Clarges, the secretary, + with an effort to appear calm, and the orderly, suffocated with the news, + entered through separate doors at the same instant. + </p> + <p> + The secretary filed his report first. “A yacht’s just anchored in the bay, + Sir Charles,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The orderly’s face fell. He looked aggrieved. “An American yacht,” he + corrected. + </p> + <p> + “And much larger than the Partridge,” continued the secretary. + </p> + <p> + The orderly took a hasty glance back over his shoulder. “She has her + launch lowered already, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Outside the whir of the lawn-mower continued undisturbed. Sir Charles + reached for his marine-glass, and the three men hurried to the veranda. + </p> + <p> + “It looks like a man-of-war,” said Sir Charles. “No,” he added, adjusting + the binocular; “she’s a yacht. She flies the New York Yacht Club pennant—now + she’s showing the owner’s absent pennant. He must have left in the launch. + He’s coming ashore now.” + </p> + <p> + “He seems in a bit of a hurry,” growled Mr. Clarges. + </p> + <p> + “Those Americans always—” murmured Sir Charles from behind the + binocular. He did not quite know that he enjoyed this sudden onslaught + upon the privacy of his harbor and port. + </p> + <p> + It was in itself annoying, and he was further annoyed to find that it + could in the least degree disturb his poise. + </p> + <p> + The launch was growing instantly larger, like an express train approaching + a station at full speed; her flags flew out as flat as pieces of painted + tin; her bits of brass-work flashed like fire. Already the ends of the + wharves were white with groups of natives. + </p> + <p> + “You might think he was going to ram the town,” suggested the secretary. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say,” he exclaimed, in remonstrance, “he’s making in for your + private wharf.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor was rearranging the focus of the glass with nervous fingers. + “I believe,” he said, “no—yes—upon my word, there are—there + are ladies in that launch!” + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, sir!” The secretary threw a hasty glance at the binocular, but it + was in immediate use. + </p> + <p> + The clatter of the lawn-mower ceased suddenly, and the relief of its + silence caused the Governor to lower his eyes. He saw the lawn-mower lying + prostrate on the grass. The vagrant had vanished. + </p> + <p> + There was a sharp tinkle of bells, and the launch slipped up to the wharf + and halted as softly as a bicycle. A man in a yachting-suit jumped from + her, and making some laughing speech to the two women in the stern, walked + briskly across the lawn, taking a letter from his pocket as he came. Sir + Charles awaited him gravely; the occupants of the launch had seen him, and + it was too late to retreat. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Charles Greville, I believe,” said the yachtsman. He bowed, and ran + lightly up the steps. “I am Mr. Robert Collier, from New York,” he said. + “I have a letter to you from your ambassador at Washington. If you’ll + pardon me, I’ll present it in person. I had meant to leave it, but seeing + you—” He paused, and gave the letter in his hand to Sir Charles, who + waved him towards his library. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles scowled at the letter through his monocle, and then shook + hands with his visitor. “I am very glad to see you, Mr. Collier,” he said. + “He says here you are preparing a book on our colonies in the West + Indies.” He tapped the letter with his monocle. “I am sure I shall be most + happy to assist you with any information in my power.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I am writing a book—yes,” Mr. Collier observed, doubtfully, + “but it’s a logbook. This trip I am on pleasure bent, and I also wish to + consult with you on a personal matter. However, that can wait.” He glanced + out of the windows to where the launch lay in the sun. “My wife came + ashore with me, Sir Charles,” he said, “so that in case there was a Lady + Greville, Mrs. Collier could call on her, and we could ask if you would + waive etiquette and do us the honor to dine with us to-night on the yacht—that + is, if you are not engaged.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles smiled. “There is no Lady Greville,” he said, “and I + personally do not think I am engaged elsewhere.” He paused in thought, as + though to make quite sure he was not. “No,” he added, “I have no other + engagement. I will come with pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles rose and clapped his hands for the orderly. “Possibly the + ladies will come up to the veranda?” he asked. “I cannot allow them to + remain at the end of my wharf.” He turned, and gave directions to the + orderly to bring limes and bottles of soda and ice, and led the way across + the lawn. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Collier and her friend had not explored the grounds of Government + House for over ten minutes before Sir Charles felt that many years ago he + had personally arranged their visit, that he had known them for even a + longer time, and that, now that they had finally arrived, they must never + depart. + </p> + <p> + To them there was apparently nothing on his domain which did not thrill + with delightful interest. They were as eager as two children at a + pantomime, and as unconscious. As a rule, Sir Charles had found it rather + difficult to meet the women of his colony on a path which they were + capable of treading intelligently. In fairness to them, he had always + sought out some topic in which they could take an equal part—something + connected with the conduct of children, or the better ventilation of the + new school-house and chapel. But these new-comers did not require him to + select topics of conversation; they did not even wait for him to finish + those which he himself introduced. They flitted from one end of the garden + to the other with the eagerness of two midshipmen on shore leave, and they + found something to enjoy in what seemed to the Governor the most + commonplace of things. The Zouave uniform of the sentry, the old Spanish + cannon converted into peaceful gate-posts, the aviary with its screaming + paroquets, the botanical station, and even the ice-machine were all + objects of delight. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, the interior of the famous palace, which had been sent + out complete from London, and which was wont to fill the wives of the + colonials with awe or to reduce them to whispers, for some reason failed + of its effect. But they said they “loved” the large gold V. R.’s on the + back of the Councillors’ chairs, and they exclaimed aloud over the red + leather despatch-boxes and the great seal of the colony, and the + mysterious envelopes marked “On her Majesty’s service.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it too exciting, Florence?” demanded Mrs. Collier. “This is the + table where Sir Charles sits and writes letters ‘on her Majesty’s + service,’ and presses these buttons, and war-ships spring up in perfect + shoals. Oh, Robert,” she sighed, “I do wish you had been a Governor!” + </p> + <p> + The young lady called Florence stood looking down into the great arm-chair + in front of the Governor’s table. + </p> + <p> + “May I?” she asked. She slid fearlessly in between the oak arms of the + chair and smiled about her. Afterwards Sir Charles remembered her as she + appeared at that moment with the red leather of the chair behind her, with + her gloved hands resting on the carved oak, and her head on one side, + smiling up at him. She gazed with large eyes at the blue linen envelopes, + the stiff documents in red tape, the tray of black sand, and the + goose-quill pens. + </p> + <p> + “I am now the Countess Zika,” she announced; “no, I am Diana of the + Crossways, and I mean to discover a state secret and sell it to the Daily + Telegraph. Sir Charles,” she demanded, “if I press this electric button is + war declared anywhere, or what happens?” + </p> + <p> + “That second button,” said Sir Charles, after deliberate scrutiny, “is the + one which communicates with the pantry.” + </p> + <p> + The Governor would not consider their returning to the yacht for luncheon. + </p> + <p> + “You might decide to steam away as suddenly as you came,” he said, + gallantly, “and I cannot take that chance. This is Bachelor’s Hall, so you + must pardon my people if things do not go very smoothly.” He himself led + them to the great guest-chamber, where there had not been a guest for many + years, and he noticed, as though for the first time, that the halls + through which they passed were bare, and that the floor was littered with + unpacked boxes and gun-cases. He also observed for the first time that + maps of the colony, with the coffee-plantations and mahogany belt marked + in different inks, were not perhaps so decorative as pictures and mirrors + and family portraits. And he could have wished that the native servants + had not stared so admiringly at the guests, nor directed each other in + such aggressive whispers. On those other occasions, when the wives of the + Councillors came to the semi-annual dinners, the native servants had + seemed adequate to all that was required of them. He recollected with a + flush that in the town these semi-annual dinners were described as + banquets. He wondered if to these visitors from the outside world it was + all equally provincial. + </p> + <p> + But their enjoyment was apparently unfeigned and generous. It was evident + that they had known each other for many years, yet they received every + remark that any of them made as though it had been pronounced by a new and + interesting acquaintance. Sir Charles found it rather difficult to keep up + with the talk across the table, they changed the subject so rapidly, and + they half spoke of so many things without waiting to explain. He could not + at once grasp the fact that people who had no other position in the world + save that of observers were speaking so authoritatively of public men and + public measures. He found, to his delight, that for the first time in + several years he was not presiding at his own table, and that his guests + seemed to feel no awe of him. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the use of a yacht nowadays?” Collier was saying—“what’s the + use of a yacht, when you can go to sleep in a wagon-lit at the Gare du + Nord, and wake up at Vladivostok? And look at the time it saves; eleven + days to Gib, six to Port Said, and fifteen to Colombo—there you are, + only half-way around, and you’re already sixteen days behind the man in + the wagon-lit.” + </p> + <p> + “But nobody wants to go to Vladivostok,” said Miss Cameron, “or anywhere + else in a wagon-lit. But with a yacht you can explore out-of-the-way + places, and you meet new and interesting people. We wouldn’t have met Sir + Charles if we had waited for a wagon-lit.” She bowed her head to the + Governor, and he smiled with gratitude. He had lost Mr. Collier somewhere + in the Indian Ocean, and he was glad she had brought them back to the + Windless Isles once more. + </p> + <p> + “And again I repeat that the answer to that is, ‘Why not? said the March + Hare,’” remarked Mr. Collier, determinedly. + </p> + <p> + The answer, as an answer, did not strike Sir Charles as a very good one. + But the ladies seemed to comprehend, for Miss Cameron said: “Did I tell + you about meeting him at Oxford just a few months before his death—at + a children’s tea-party? He was so sweet and understanding with them! Two + women tried to lionize him, and he ran away and played with the children. + I was more glad to meet him than any one I can think of. Not as a + personage, you know, but because I felt grateful to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that way, distinctly,” said Mrs. Collier. “I should have felt that + way towards Mrs. Ewing more than any one else.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, ‘Jackanapes,’” remarked Collier, shortly; “a brutal assault upon + the feelings, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Some one else said it before you, Robert,” Mrs. Collier commented, + calmly. “Perhaps Sir Charles met him at Apia.” They all turned and looked + at him. He wished he could say he had met him at Apia. He did not quite + see how they had made their way from a children’s tea party at Oxford to + the South Pacific islands, but he was anxious to join in somewhere with a + clever observation. But they never seemed to settle in one place + sufficiently long for him to recollect what he knew of it. He hoped they + would get around to the west coast of Africa in time. He had been Governor + of Sierra Leone for five years. + </p> + <p> + His success that night at dinner on the yacht was far better. The others + seemed a little tired after the hours of sight-seeing to which he had + treated them, and they were content to listen. In the absence of Mr. + Clarges, who knew them word by word, he felt free to tell his three + stories of life at Sierra Leone. He took his time in the telling, and + could congratulate himself that his efforts had never been more keenly + appreciated. He felt that he was holding his own. + </p> + <p> + The night was still and warm, and while the men lingered below at the + table, the two women mounted to the deck and watched the lights of the + town as they vanished one by one and left the moon in unchallenged + possession of the harbor. For a long time Miss Cameron stood silent, + looking out across the bay at the shore and the hills beyond. A fish + splashed near them, and the sound of oars rose from the mist that floated + above the water, until they were muffled in the distance. The palms along + the shore glistened like silver, and overhead the Southern Cross shone + white against a sky of purple. The silence deepened and continued for so + long a time that Mrs. Collier felt its significance, and waited for the + girl to end it. + </p> + <p> + Miss Cameron raised her eyes to the stars and frowned. “I am not surprised + that he is content to stay here,” she said. “Are you? It is so beautiful, + so wonderfully beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Mrs. Collier made no answer. “Two years is a long time, + Florence,” she said; “and he is all I have; he is not only my only + brother, he is the only living soul who is related to me. That makes it + harder.” + </p> + <p> + The girl seemed to find some implied reproach in the speech, for she + turned and looked at her friend closely. “Do you feel it is my fault, + Alice?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The older woman shook her head. “How could it be your fault?” she + answered. “If you couldn’t love him enough to marry him, you couldn’t, + that’s all. But that is no reason why he should have hidden himself from + all of us. Even if he could not stand being near you, caring as he did, he + need not have treated me so. We have done all we can do, and Robert has + been more than fine about it. He and his agents have written to every + consul and business house in Central America, and I don’t believe there is + a city that he hasn’t visited. He has sent him money and letters to every + bank and to every post-office—” + </p> + <p> + The girl raised her head quickly. + </p> + <p> + “—but he never calls for either,” Mrs. Collier continued, “for I + know that if he had read my letters he would have come home.” + </p> + <p> + The girl lifted her head as though she were about to speak, and then + turned and walked slowly away. After a few moments she returned, and + stood, with her hands resting on the rail, looking down into the water. “I + wrote him two letters,” she said. In the silence of the night her voice + was unusually clear and distinct. “I—you make me wonder—if + they ever reached him.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Collier, with her eyes fixed upon the girl, rose slowly from her + chair and came towards her. She reached out her hand and touched Miss + Cameron on the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Florence,” she said, in a whisper, “have you—” + </p> + <p> + The girl raised her head slowly, and lowered it again. “Yes,” she + answered; “I told him to come back—to come back to me. Alice,” she + cried, “I—I begged him to come back!” She tossed her hands apart and + again walked rapidly away, leaving the older woman standing motionless. + </p> + <p> + A moment later, when Sir Charles and Mr. Collier stepped out upon the + deck, they discovered the two women standing close together, two white, + ghostly figures in the moonlight, and as they advanced towards them they + saw Mrs. Collier take the girl for an instant in her arms. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles was asking Miss Cameron how long she thought an immigrant + should be made to work for his freehold allotment, when Mr. Collier and + his wife rose at the same moment and departed on separate errands. They + met most mysteriously in the shadow of the wheel-house. + </p> + <p> + “What is it? Is anything wrong with Florence?” Collier asked, anxiously. + “Not homesick, is she?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Collier put her hands on her husband’s shoulders and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Wrong? No, thank Heaven! it’s as right as right can be!” she cried. + “She’s written to him to come back, but he’s never answered, and so—and + now it’s all right.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Collier gazed blankly at his wife’s upturned face. “Well, I don’t see + that,” he remonstrated. “What’s the use of her being in love with him now + when he can’t be found? What? Why didn’t she love him two years ago when + he was where you could get at him—at her house, for instance. He was + there most of his time. She would have saved a lot of trouble. However,” + he added, energetically, “this makes it absolutely necessary to find that + young man and bring him to his senses. We’ll search this place for the + next few days, and then we’ll try the mainland again. I think I’ll offer a + reward for him, and have it printed in Spanish, and paste it up in all the + plazas. We might add a line in English, ‘She has changed her mind.’ That + would bring him home, wouldn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be unfeeling, Robert,” said Mrs. Collier. + </p> + <p> + Her husband raised his eyes appealingly, and addressed himself to the + moon. “I ask you now,” he complained, “is that fair to a man who has spent + six months on muleback trying to round up a prodigal brother-in-law?” + </p> + <p> + That same evening, after the ladies had gone below, Mr. Collier asked Sir + Charles to assist him in his search for his wife’s brother, and Sir + Charles heartily promised his most active co-operation. There were several + Americans at work in the interior, he said, as overseers on the + coffee-plantations. It was possible that the runaway might be among them. + It was only that morning, Sir Charles remembered, that an American had + been at work “repairing his lawn-mower,” as he considerately expressed it. + He would send for him on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + But on the morrow the slave of the lawn-mower was reported on the list of + prisoners as “missing,” and Corporal Mallon was grieved, but refused to + consider himself responsible. Sir Charles himself had allowed the vagrant + unusual freedom, and the vagrant had taken advantage of it, and probably + escaped to the hills, or up the river to the logwood camp. + </p> + <p> + “Telegraph a description of him to Inspector Garrett,” Sir Charles + directed, “and to the heads of all up stations. And when he returns, bring + him to me.” + </p> + <p> + So great was his zeal that Sir Charles further offered to join Mr. Collier + in his search among the outlying plantations; but Mr. Collier preferred to + work alone. He accordingly set out at once, armed with letters to the + different district inspectors, and in his absence delegated to Sir Charles + the pleasant duty of caring for the wants of Miss Cameron and his wife. + Sir Charles regarded the latter as deserving of all sympathy, for Mr. + Collier, in his efforts to conceal the fact from the Governor that + Florence Cameron was responsible, or in any way concerned, in the + disappearance of the missing man, had been too mysterious. Sir Charles was + convinced that the fugitive had swindled his brother-in-law and stolen his + sister’s jewels. + </p> + <p> + The days which followed were to the Governor days and nights of strange + discoveries. He recognized that the missionaries from the great outside + world had invaded his shores and disturbed his gods and temples. Their + religion of progress and activity filled him with doubt and unrest. + </p> + <p> + “In this century,” Mr. Collier had declared, “nothing can stand still. + It’s the same with a corporation, or a country, or a man. We must either + march ahead or fall out. We can’t mark time. What?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly—certainly not,” Sir Charles had answered. But in his heart + he knew that he himself had been marking time under these soft tropical + skies while the world was pushing forward. The thought had not disturbed + him before. Now he felt guilty. He conceived a sudden intolerance, if not + contempt, for the little village of whitewashed houses, for the rafts of + mahogany and of logwood that bumped against the pier-heads, for the sacks + of coffee piled high like barricades under the corrugated zinc sheds along + the wharf. Each season it had been his pride to note the increase in these + exports. The development of the resources of his colony had been a work in + which he had felt that the Colonial Secretary took an immediate interest. + He had believed that he was one of the important wheels of the machinery + which moved the British Empire: and now, in a day, he was undeceived. It + was forced upon him that to the eyes of the outside world he was only a + greengrocer operating on a large scale; he provided the British public + with coffee for its breakfast, with drugs for its stomach, and with + strange woods for its dining-room furniture and walking-sticks. He + combated this ignominious characterization of his position indignantly. + The new arrivals certainly gave him no hint that they considered him so + lightly. This thought greatly comforted him, for he felt that in some way + he was summoning to his aid all of his assets and resources to meet an + expert and final valuation. As he ranged them before him he was disturbed + and happy to find that the value he placed upon them was the value they + would have in the eyes of a young girl—not a girl of the shy, + mother-obeying, man-worshipping English type, but a girl such as Miss + Cameron seemed to be, a girl who could understand what you were trying to + say before you said it, who could take an interest in rates of exchange + and preside at a dinner table, who was charmingly feminine and clever, and + who was respectful of herself and of others. In fact, he decided, with a + flush, that Miss Cameron herself was the young girl he had in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The question came to him in his room, the sixth night of their visit, and + he strode over to the long pier-glass and stood studying himself + critically for the first time in years. He was still a fine-looking, + well-kept man. His hair was thin, but that fact did not show; and his + waist was lost, but riding and tennis would set that right. He had means + outside of his official salary, and there was the title, such as it was. + Lady Greville the wife of the birthday knight sounded as well as Lady + Greville the marchioness. And Americans cared for these things. He doubted + whether this particular American would do so, but he was adding up all he + had to offer, and that was one of the assets. He was sure she would not be + content to remain mistress of the Windless Isles. Nor, indeed, did he + longer care to be master there, now that he had inhaled this quick, + stirring breath from the outer world. He would resign, and return and mix + with the world again. He would enter Parliament; a man so well acquainted + as himself with the Gold Coast of Africa and with the trade of the West + Indies must always be of value in the Lower House. This value would be + recognized, no doubt, and he would become at first an Under-Secretary for + the Colonies, and then, in time, Colonial Secretary and a cabinet + minister. She would like that, he thought. And after that place had been + reached, all things were possible. For years he had not dreamed such + dreams—not since he had been a clerk in the Foreign Office. They + seemed just as possible now as they had seemed real then, and just as + near. He felt it was all absolutely in his own hands. + </p> + <p> + He descended to the dining-room with the air of a man who already felt the + cares of high responsibility upon his shoulders. His head was erect and + his chest thrown forward. He was ten years younger; his manner was alert, + assured, and gracious. As he passed through the halls he was impatient of + the familiar settings of Government House; they seemed to him like the + furnishings of a hotel where he had paid his bill, and where his luggage + was lying strapped for departure in the hallway. + </p> + <p> + In his library he saw on his table a number of papers lying open waiting + for his signature, the dog-tax among the others. He smiled to remember how + important it had seemed to him in the past—in that past of indolence + and easy content. Now he was on fire to put this rekindled ambition to + work, to tell the woman who had lighted it that it was all from her and + for her, that without her he had existed, that now he had begun to live. + </p> + <p> + They had never found him so delighful{sic} as he appeared that night. He + was like a man on the eve of a holiday. He made a jest of his past + efforts; he made them see, as he now saw it for the first time, that side + of the life of the Windless Isles which was narrow and petty, even + ridiculous. He talked of big men in a big way; he criticised, and + expounded, and advanced his own theories of government and the proper + control of an empire. + </p> + <p> + Collier, who had returned from his unsuccessful search of the plantations, + shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a pity you are not in London now,” he said, sincerely. “They need + some one there who has been on the spot. They can’t direct the colonies + from what they know of them in Whitehall.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles fingered the dinner cloth nervously, and when he spoke, fixed + his eyes anxiously upon Miss Cameron. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said, “I have been thinking of doing that very thing, of + resigning my post here and going back, entering Parliament, and all the + rest of it.” + </p> + <p> + His declaration met with a unanimous chorus of delight. Miss Cameron + nodded her head with eager approval. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if I were a man, that is where I should wish to be,” she said, “at + the heart of it. Why, whatever you say in the House of Commons is heard + all over the world the next morning.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles felt the blood tingle in his pulses. He had not been so + stirred in years. Her words ran to his head like wine. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Collier raised his glass. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s to our next meeting,” he said, “on the terrace of the House of + Commons.” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Cameron interrupted. “No; to the Colonial Secretary,” she + amended. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” they assented, rising, and so drank his health, smiling down + upon him with kind, friendly glances and good-will. + </p> + <p> + “To the Colonial Secretary,” they said. Sir Charles clasped the arms of + his chair tightly with his hands; his eyes were half closed, and his lips + pressed into a grim, confident smile. He felt that a single word from her + would make all that they suggested possible. If she cared for such things, + they were hers; he had them to give; they were ready lying at her feet. He + knew that the power had always been with him, lying dormant in his heart + and brain. It had only waited for the touch of the Princess to wake it + into life. + </p> + <p> + The American visitors were to sail for the mainland the next day, but he + had come to know them so well in the brief period of their visit that he + felt he dared speak to her that same night. At least he could give her + some word that would keep him in her mind until they met again in London, + or until she had considered her answer. He could not expect her to answer + at once. She could take much time. What else had he to do now but to wait + for her answer? It was now all that made life. + </p> + <p> + Collier and his wife had left the veranda and had crossed the lawn towards + the water’s edge. The moonlight fell full upon them with all the splendor + of the tropics, and lit the night with a brilliant, dazzling radiance. + From where Miss Cameron sat on the veranda in the shadow, Sir Charles + could see only the white outline of her figure and the indolent movement + of her fan. Collier had left his wife and was returning slowly towards the + step. Sir Charles felt that if he meant to speak he must speak now, and + quickly. He rose and placed himself beside her in the shadow, and the girl + turned her head inquiringly and looked up at him. + </p> + <p> + But on the instant the hush of the night was broken by a sharp challenge, + and the sound of men’s voices raised in anger; there was the noise of a + struggle on the gravel, and from the corner of the house the two sentries + came running, dragging between them a slight figure that fought and + wrestled to be free. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles exclaimed with indignant impatience, and turning, strode + quickly to the head of the steps. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” he demanded. “What are you doing with that man? Why + did you bring him here?” + </p> + <p> + As the soldiers straightened to attention, their prisoner ceased to + struggle, and stood with his head bent on his chest. His sombrero was + pulled down low across his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “He was crawling through the bushes, Sir Charles,” the soldier panted, + “watching that gentleman, sir,”—he nodded over his shoulder towards + Collier. “I challenged, and he jumped to run, and we collared him. He + resisted, Sir Charles.” + </p> + <p> + The mind of the Governor was concerned with other matters than + trespassers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, take him to the barracks, then,” he said. “Report to me in the + morning. That will do.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner wheeled eagerly, without further show of resistance, and the + soldiers closed in on him on either side. But as the three men moved away + together, their faces, which had been in shadow, were now turned towards + Mr. Collier, who was advancing leisurely, and with silent footsteps, + across the grass. He met them face to face, and as he did so the prisoner + sprang back and threw out his arms in front of him, with the gesture of a + man who entreats silence. Mr. Collier halted as though struck to stone, + and the two men confronted each other without moving. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” Mr. Collier whispered. + </p> + <p> + He turned stiffly and slowly, as though in a trance, and beckoned to his + wife, who had followed him. + </p> + <p> + “Alice!” he called. He stepped backwards towards her, and taking her hand + in one of his, drew her towards the prisoner. “Here he is!” he said. + </p> + <p> + They heard her cry “Henry!” with the fierceness of a call for help, and + saw her rush forward and stumble into the arms of the prisoner, and their + two heads were bent close together. + </p> + <p> + Collier ran up the steps and explained breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” he gasped, in conclusion, “what’s to be done? What’s he + arrested for? Is it bailable? What?” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” exclaimed Sir Charles, miserably. “It is my fault + entirely. I assure you I had no idea. How could I? But I should have + known, I should have guessed it.” He dismissed the sentries with a + gesture. “That will do,” he said. “Return to your posts.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Collier laughed with relief. + </p> + <p> + “Then it is not serious?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “He—he had no money, that was all,” exclaimed Sir Charles. “Serious? + Certainly not. Upon my word, I’m sorry—” + </p> + <p> + The young man had released himself from his sister’s embrace, and was + coming towards them; and Sir Charles, eager to redeem himself, advanced + hurriedly to greet him. But the young man did not see him; he was looking + past him up the steps to where Miss Cameron stood in the shadow. + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles hesitated and drew back. The young man stopped at the foot of + the steps, and stood with his head raised, staring up at the white figure + of the girl, who came slowly forward. + </p> + <p> + It was forced upon Sir Charles that in spite of the fact that the young + man before them had but just then been rescued from arrest, that in spite + of his mean garments and ragged sandals, something about him—the + glamour that surrounds the prodigal, or possibly the moonlight—gave + him an air of great dignity and distinction. + </p> + <p> + As Miss Cameron descended the stairs, Sir Charles recognized for the first + time that the young man was remarkably handsome, and he resented it. It + hurt him, as did also the prodigal’s youth and his assured bearing. He + felt a sudden sinking fear, a weakening of all his vital forces, and he + drew in his breath slowly and deeply. But no one noticed him; they were + looking at the tall figure of the prodigal, standing with his hat at his + hip and his head thrown back, holding the girl with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Collier touched Sir Charles on the arm, and nodded his head towards the + library. “Come,” he whispered, “let us old people leave them together. + They’ve a good deal to say.” Sir Charles obeyed in silence, and crossing + the library to the great oak chair, seated himself and leaned wearily on + the table before him. He picked up one of the goose quills and began + separating it into little pieces. Mr. Collier was pacing up and down, + biting excitedly on the end of his cigar. “Well, this has certainly been a + great night,” he said. “And it is all due to you, Sir Charles—all + due to you. Yes, they have you to thank for it.” + </p> + <p> + “They?” said Sir Charles. He knew that it had to come. He wanted the man + to strike quickly. + </p> + <p> + “They? Yes—Florence Cameron and Henry,” Mr. Collier answered. “Henry + went away because she wouldn’t marry him. She didn’t care for him then, + but afterwards she cared. Now they’re reunited,—and so they’re + happy; and my wife is more than happy, and I won’t have to bother any + more; and it’s all right, and all through you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad,” said Sir Charles. There was a long pause, which the men, each + deep in his own thoughts, did not notice. + </p> + <p> + “You will be leaving now, I suppose?” Sir Charles asked. He was looking + down, examining the broken pen in his hand. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Collier stopped in his walk and considered. “Yes, I suppose they will + want to get back,” he said. “I shall be sorry myself. And you? What will + you do?” + </p> + <p> + Sir Charles started slightly. He had not yet thought what he would do. His + eyes wandered over the neglected work, which had accumulated on the desk + before him. Only an hour before he had thought of it as petty and little, + as something unworthy of his energy. Since that time what change had taken + place in him? + </p> + <p> + For him everything had changed, he answered, but in him there had been no + change; and if this thing which the girl had brought into his life had + meant the best in life, it must always mean that. She had been an + inspiration; she must remain his spring of action. Was he a slave, he + asked himself, that he should rebel? Was he a boy, that he could turn his + love to aught but the best account? He must remember her not as the woman + who had crushed his spirit, but as she who had helped him, who had lifted + him up to something better and finer. He would make sacrifice in her name; + it would be in her name that he would rise to high places and accomplish + much good. + </p> + <p> + She would not know this, but he would know. + </p> + <p> + He rose and brushed the papers away from him with an impatient sweep of + the hand. + </p> + <p> + “I shall follow out the plan of which I spoke at dinner,” he answered. “I + shall resign here, and return home and enter Parliament.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Collier laughed admiringly. “I love the way you English take your + share of public life,” he said, “the way you spend yourselves for your + country, and give your brains, your lives, everything you have—all + for the empire.” + </p> + <p> + Through the open window Sir Charles saw Miss Cameron half hidden by the + vines of the veranda. The moonlight falling about her transformed her into + a figure which was ideal, mysterious, and elusive, like a woman in a + dream. He shook his head wearily. + </p> + <p> + “For the empire?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER + </h2> + <h3> + A SKETCH CONTAINING THREE POINTS OF VIEW + </h3> + <p> + What the Poet Laureate wrote. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “There are girls in the Gold Reef City + There are mothers and children too! + And they cry ‘Hurry up for pity!’ + So what can a brave man do? + + “I suppose we were wrong, were mad men, + Still I think at the Judgment Day, + When God sifts the good from the bad men, + There’ll be something more to say.” + </pre> + <p> + What more the Lord Chief Justice found to say. + </p> + <p> + “In this case we know the immediate consequence of your crime. It has been + the loss of human life, it has been the disturbance of public peace, it + has been the creation of a certain sense of distrust of public professions + and of public faith.... The sentence of this Court therefore is that, as + to you, Leander Starr Jameson, you be confined for a period of fifteen + months without hard labor; that you, Sir John Willoughby, have ten months’ + imprisonment; and that you, etc., etc.” + </p> + <p> + London Times, July 29th. + </p> + <p> + What the Hon. “Reggie” Blake thought about it. + </p> + <p> + “H. M. HOLLOWAY PRISON, + </p> + <p> + “July 28th. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to keep a diary while I am in prison, that is, if they will + let me. I never kept one before because I hadn’t the time; when I was home + on leave there was too much going on to bother about it, and when I was up + country I always came back after a day’s riding so tired that I was too + sleepy to write anything. And now that I have the time, I won’t have + anything to write about. I fancy that more things happened to me to-day + than are likely to happen again for the next eight months, so I will make + this day take up as much room in the diary as it can. I am writing this on + the back of the paper the Warder uses for his official reports, while he + is hunting up cells to put us in. We came down on him rather unexpectedly + and he is nervous. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I had prepared myself for this after a fashion, but now I see + that somehow I never really did think I would be in here, and all my + friends outside, and everything going on just the same as though I wasn’t + alive somewhere. It’s like telling yourself that your horse can’t possibly + pull off a race, so that you won’t mind so much if he doesn’t, but you + always feel just as bad when he comes in a loser. A man can’t fool himself + into thinking one way when he is hoping the other. + </p> + <p> + “But I am glad it is over, and settled. It was a great bore not knowing + your luck and having the thing hanging over your head every morning when + you woke up. Indeed it was quite a relief when the counsel got all through + arguing over those proclamations, and the Chief Justice summed up, but I + nearly went to sleep when I found he was going all over it again to the + jury. I didn’t understand about those proclamations myself and I’ll lay a + fiver the jury didn’t either. The Colonel said he didn’t. I couldn’t keep + my mind on what Russell was explaining about, and I got to thinking how + much old Justice Hawkins looked like the counsel in ‘Alice in Wonderland’ + when they tried the knave of spades for stealing the tarts. He had just + the same sort of a beak and the same sort of a wig, and I wondered why he + had his wig powdered and the others didn’t. Pollock’s wig had a hole in + the top; you could see it when he bent over to take notes. He was always + taking notes. I don’t believe he understood about those proclamations + either; he never seemed to listen, anyway. + </p> + <p> + “The Chief Justice certainly didn’t love us very much, that’s sure; and he + wasn’t going to let anybody else love us either. I felt quite the + Christian Martyr when Sir Edward was speaking in defence. He made it sound + as though we were all a lot of Adelphi heroes and ought to be promoted and + have medals, but when Lord Russell started in to read the Riot Act at us I + began to believe that hanging was too good for me. I’m sure I never knew I + was disturbing the peace of nations; it seems like such a large order for + a subaltern. + </p> + <p> + “But the worst was when they made us stand up before all those people to + be sentenced. I must say I felt shaky about the knees then, not because I + was afraid of what was coming, but because it was the first time I had + ever been pointed out before people, and made to feel ashamed. And having + those girls there, too, looking at one. That wasn’t just fair to us. It + made me feel about ten years old, and I remembered how the Head Master + used to call me to his desk and say, ‘Blake Senior, two pages of Horace + and keep in bounds for a week.’ And then I heard our names and the months, + and my name and ‘eight months’ imprisonment,’ and there was a bustle and + murmur and the tipstaves cried, ‘Order in the Court,’ and the Judges stood + up and shook out their big red skirts as though they were shaking off the + contamination of our presence and rustled away, and I sat down, wondering + how long eight months was, and wishing they’d given me as much as they + gave Jameson. + </p> + <p> + “They put us in a room together then, and our counsel said how sorry they + were, and shook hands, and went off to dinner and left us. I thought they + might have waited with us and been a little late for dinner just that + once; but no one waited except a lot of costers outside whom we did not + know. It was eight o’clock and still quite light when we came out, and + there was a line of four-wheelers and a hansom ready for us. I’d been + hoping they would take us out by the Strand entrance, just because I’d + like to have seen it again, but they marched us instead through the main + quadrangle—a beastly, gloomy courtyard that echoed, and out, into + Carey Street—such a dirty, gloomy street. The costers and clerks set + up a sort of a cheer when we came out, and one of them cried, ‘God bless + you, sir,’ to the doctor, but I was sorry they cheered. It seemed like + kicking against the umpire’s decision. The Colonel and I got into a hansom + together and we trotted off into Chancery Lane and turned into Holborn. + Most of the shops were closed, and the streets looked empty, but there was + a lighted clock-face over Mooney’s public-house, and the hands stood at a + quarter past eight. I didn’t know where Holloway was, and was hoping they + would have to take us through some decent streets to reach it; but we + didn’t see a part of the city that meant anything to me, or that I would + choose to travel through again. + </p> + <p> + “Neither of us talked, and I imagined that the people in the streets knew + we were going to prison, and I kept my eyes on the enamel card on the back + of the apron. I suppose I read, ‘Two-wheeled hackney carriage: if hired + and discharged within the four-mile limit, 1s.’ at least a hundred times. + I got more sensible after a bit, and when we had turned into Gray’s Inn + Road I looked up and saw a tram in front of us with ‘Holloway Road and + King’s X,’ painted on the steps, and the Colonel saw it about the same + time I fancy, for we each looked at the other, and the Colonel raised his + eyebrows. It showed us that at least the cabman knew where we were going. + </p> + <p> + “‘They might have taken us for a turn through the West End first, I + think,’ the Colonel said. ‘I’d like to have had a look around, wouldn’t + you? This isn’t a cheerful neighborhood, is it?’ + </p> + <p> + “There were a lot of children playing in St. Andrew’s Gardens, and a crowd + of them ran out just as we passed, shrieking and laughing over nothing, + the way kiddies do, and that was about the only pleasant sight in the + ride. I had quite a turn when we came to the New Hospital just beyond, for + I thought it was Holloway, and it came over me what eight months in such a + place meant. I believe if I hadn’t pulled myself up sharp, I’d have jumped + out into the street and run away. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, + but I don’t want any more like them. I was afraid, afraid—there’s no + use pretending it was anything else. I was in a dumb, silly funk, and I + turned sick inside and shook, as I have seen a horse shake when he shies + at nothing and sweats and trembles down his sides. + </p> + <p> + “During those few seconds it seemed to be more than I could stand; I felt + sure that I couldn’t do it—that I’d go mad if they tried to force + me. The idea was so terrible—of not being master over your own legs + and arms, to have your flesh and blood and what brains God gave you buried + alive in stone walls as though they were in a safe with a time-lock on the + door set for eight months ahead. There’s nothing to be afraid of in a + stone wall really, but it’s the idea of the thing—of not being free + to move about, especially to a chap that has always lived in the open as I + have, and has had men under him. It was no wonder I was in a funk for a + minute. I’ll bet a fiver the others were, too, if they’ll only own up to + it. I don’t mean for long, but just when the idea first laid hold of them. + Anyway, it was a good lesson to me, and if I catch myself thinking of it + again I’ll whistle, or talk to myself out loud and think of something + cheerful. And I don’t mean to be one of those chaps who spends his time in + jail counting the stones in his cell, or training spiders, or measuring + how many of his steps make a mile, for madness lies that way. I mean to + sit tight and think of all the good times I’ve had, and go over them in my + mind very slowly, so as to make them last longer and remember who was + there and what we said, and the jokes and all that; I’ll go over + house-parties I have been on, and the times I’ve had in the Riviera, and + scouting parties Dr. Jim led up country when we were taking Matabele Land. + </p> + <p> + “They say that if you’re good here they give you things to read after a + month or two, and then I can read up all those instructive books that a + fellow never does read until he’s laid up in bed. + </p> + <p> + “But that’s crowding ahead a bit; I must keep to what happened to-day. We + struck York Road at the back of the Great Western Terminus, and I half + hoped we might see some chap we knew coming or going away: I would like to + have waved my hand to him. It would have been fun to have seen his + surprise the next morning when he read in the paper that he had been + bowing to jail-birds, and then I would like to have cheated the tipstaves + out of just one more friendly good-by. I wanted to say good-by to + somebody, but I really couldn’t feel sorry to see the last of any one of + those we passed in the streets—they were such a dirty, + unhappy-looking lot, and the railroad wall ran on forever apparently, and + we might have been in a foreign country for all we knew of it. There were + just sooty gray brick tenements and gas-works on one side, and the + railroad cutting on the other, and semaphores and telegraph wires + overhead, and smoke and grime everywhere, it looked exactly like the sort + of street that should lead to a prison, and it seemed a pity to take a + smart hansom and a good cob into it. + </p> + <p> + “It was just a bit different from our last ride together—when we + rode through the night from Krugers-Dorp with hundreds of horses’ hoofs + pounding on the soft veldt behind us, and the carbines clanking against + the stirrups as they swung on the sling belts. We were being hunted then, + harassed on either side, scurrying for our lives like the Derby Dog in a + race-track when every one hoots him and no man steps out to help—we + were sick for sleep, sick for food, lashed by the rain, and we knew that + we were beaten; but we were free still, and under open skies with the + derricks of the Rand rising like gallows on our left, and Johannesburg + only fifteen miles away.” + </p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LION AND THE UNICORN ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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