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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17047-8.txt b/17047-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16f5db5 --- /dev/null +++ b/17047-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10169 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Half-Hearted, by John Buchan + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Half-Hearted + + +Author: John Buchan + + + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [eBook #17047] +[Last updated: October 13, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-HEARTED*** + + +E-text prepared by MRK + + + + +THE HALF-HEARTED + +by + +JOHN BUCHAN + + + + +NOTE + +For the convenience of the reader it may +be stated that the period of this tale is the +closing years of the 19th Century. + + + + +CONTENTS + +PART I + + I. EVENING IN GLENAVELIN + II. LADY MANORWATER'S GUESTS + III. UPLAND WATER + IV. AFTERNOON IN A GARDEN + V. A CONFERENCE OF THE POWERS + VI. PASTORAL + VII. THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE + VIII. MR. WRATISLAW'S ADVENT + IX. THE EPISODES OF A DAY + X. HOME TRUTHS + XI. THE PRIDE BEFORE A FALL + XII. PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY + XIII. THE PLEASURES OF A CONSCIENCE + XIV. A GENTLEMAN IN STRAITS + XV. THE NEMESIS OF A COWARD + XVI. A MOVEMENT OF THE POWERS + XVII. THE BRINK OF THE RUBICON + XVIII. THE FURTHER BRINK + XIX. THE BRIDGE OF BROKEN HEARTS + +PART II + + XX. THE EASTERN ROAD + XXI. IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS + XXII. THE OUTPOSTS + XXIII. THE DINNER AT GALETTI'S + XXIV. THE TACTICS OP A CHIEF + XXV. MRS. LOGAN'S BALL + XXVI. FRIEND TO FRIEND + XXVII. THE ROAD TO FORZA + XXVIII. THE HILL-FORT + XXIX. THE WAY TO NAZRI + XXX. EVENING IN THE HILLS + XXXI. EVENTS SOUTH OF THE BORDER + XXXII. THE BLESSING OF GAD + + + + +THE HALF-HEARTED + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +EVENING IN GLENAVELIN + + +From the heart of a great hill land Glenavelin stretches west and south +to the wider Gled valley, where its stream joins with the greater water +in its seaward course. Its head is far inland in a place of mountain +solitudes, but its mouth is all but on the lip of the sea, and salt +breezes fight with the flying winds of the hills. It is a land of green +meadows on the brink of heather, of far-stretching fir woods that climb +to the edge of the uplands and sink to the fringe of corn. Nowhere is +there any march between art and nature, for the place is in the main for +sheep, and the single road which threads the glen is little troubled +with cart and crop-laden wagon. Midway there is a stretch of wood and +garden around the House of Glenavelin, the one great dwelling-place in +the vale. But it is a dwelling and a little more, for the home of the +real lords of the land is many miles farther up the stream, in the +moorland house of Etterick, where the Avelin is a burn, and the hills +hang sharply over its source. To a stranger in an afternoon it seems a +very vale of content, basking in sun and shadow, green, deep, and +silent. But it is also a place of storms, for its name means the "glen +of white waters," and mist and snow are commoner in its confines than +summer heats. + +On a very wet evening in June a young man in a high dogcart was driving +up the glen. A deer-stalker's cap was tied down over his ears, and the +collar of a great white waterproof defended his neck. A cheerful +bronzed face was shadowed by the peak of his cap, and two very keen grey +eyes peered out into the mist. He was driving with tight rein, for the +mare was fresh and the road had awkward slopes and corners; but none the +less he was dreaming, thinking pleasant thoughts, and now and then +looking cheerily at the ribs of hill which at times were cleared of +mist. His clean-shaven face was wet and shining with the drizzle, pools +formed on the floor of the cart, and the mare's flanks were plastered +with the weather. + +Suddenly he drew up sharp at the sight of a figure by the roadside. + +"Hullo, Doctor Gracey," he cried, "where on earth have you come from? +Come in and I'll give you a lift." + +The figure advanced and scrambled into the vacant seat. It was a little +old man in a big topcoat with a quaint-fashioned wide-awake hat on his +head. In ill weather all distinctions are swept away. The stranger +might have been a statesman or a tramp. + +"It is a pleasure to see you, Doctor," and the young man grasped a +mittened hand and looked into his companion's face. There was something +both kindly and mirthful in his grey eyes. + +The old man arranged his seat comfortably, buttoned another button at +the neck of the coat, and then scrutinised the driver. "It's four +years--four years in October since I last cast eyes on you, Lewie, my +boy," he said. "I heard you were coming, so I refused a lift from +Haystounslacks and the minister. Haystounslacks was driving from +Gledsmuir, and unless the Lord protects him he will be in Avelin water +ere he gets home. Whisky and a Glenavelin road never agree, Lewie, as I +who have mended the fool's head a dozen times should know. But I +thought you would never come, and was prepared to ride in the next +baker's van." The Doctor spoke with the pure English and high northern +voice of an old school of professional men, whose tongue, save in +telling a story, knew not the vernacular, and yet in its pitch and +accent inevitably betrayed their birthplace. Precise in speech and +dress, uncommonly skilful, a mild humorist, and old in the world's +wisdom, he had gone down the evening way of life with the heart of a +boy. + +"I was delayed--I could not help it, though I was all afternoon at the +job," said the young man. "I've seen a dozen and more tenants and I +talked sheep and drains till I got out of my depth and was gravely +corrected. It's the most hospitable place on earth, this, but I thought +it a pity to waste a really fine hunger on the inevitable ham and eggs, +so I waited for dinner. Lord, I have an appetite! Come and dine, +Doctor. I am in solitary state just now, and long, wet evenings are +dreary." + +"I'm afraid I must excuse myself, Lewie," was the formal answer, with +just a touch of reproof. Dinner to Doctor Gracey was a serious +ceremony, and invitations should not be scattered rashly. "My +housekeeper's wrath is not to be trifled with, as you should know." + +"I do," said the young man in a tone of decent melancholy. "She once +cuffed my ears the month I stayed with you for falling in the burn. +Does she beat you, Doctor?" + +"Indeed, no," said the little old gentleman; "not as yet. But +physically she is my superior and I live in terror." Then abruptly, "For +heaven's sake, Lewie, mind the mare." + +"It's all right," said the driver, as the dogcart swung neatly round an +ugly turn. "There's the mist going off the top of Etterick Law, +and--why, that's the end of the Dreichill?" + +"It's the Dreichill, and beyond it is the Little Muneraw. Are you glad +to be home, Lewie?" + +"Rather," said the young man gravely. "This is my own countryside, and +I fancy it's the last place a man forgets." + +"I fancy so--with right-thinking people. By the way, I have much to +congratulate you on. We old fogies in this desert place have been often +seeing your name in the newspapers lately. You are a most experienced +traveller." + +"Fair. But people made a great deal more of that than it deserved. It +was very simple, and I had every chance. Some day I will go out and do +the same thing again with no advantages, and if I come back you may +praise me then." + +"Right, Lewie. A bare game and no chances is the rule of war. And now, +what will you do?" + +"Settle down," said the young man with mock pathos, "which in my case +means settling up also. I suppose it is what you would call the crucial +moment in my life. I am going in for politics, as I always intended, +and for the rest I shall live a quiet country life at Etterick. I've a +wonderful talent for rusticity." + +The Doctor shot an inquiring glance from beneath the flaps of his hat. +"I never can make up my mind about you, Lewie." + +"I daresay not. It is long since I gave up trying to make up my mind +about myself." + +"When you were a very small and very bad boy I made the usual prophecy +that you would make a spoon or spoil a horn. Later I declared you would +make the spoon. I still keep to that opinion, but I wish to goodness I +knew what shape your spoon would take." + +"Ornamental, Doctor, some odd fancy spoon, but not useful. I feel an +inner lack of usefulness." + +"Humph! Then things are serious, Lewie, and I, as your elder, should +give advice; but confound it, my dear, I cannot think what it should be. +Life has been too easy for you, a great deal too easy. You want a +little of the salt and iron of the world. You are too clever ever to be +conceited, and you are too good a fellow ever to be a fool, but apart +from these sad alternatives there are numerous middle stages which are +not very happy." + +The young man's face lengthened, as it always did either in repose or +reflection. + +"You are old and wise, Doctor. Have you any cure for a man with +sufficient money and no immediate profession to prevent stagnation?" + +"None," said the Doctor; "but the man himself can find many. The chief +is that he be conscious of his danger, and on the watch against it. As +a last expedient I should recommend a second course of travel." + +"But am I to be barred from my home because of this bogey of yours?" + +"No, Lewie lad, but you must be kept, as you say, 'up to scratch,'" and +the old face smiled. "You are too good to waste. You Haystouns are +high-strung, finicking people, on whom idleness sits badly. Also you +are the last of your race and have responsibilities. You must remember +I was your father's friend, and knew you all well." + +At the mention of his father the young man's interest quickened. + +"I must have been only about six years old when he died. I find so few +people who remember him well and can tell me about him." + +"You are very like him, Lewie. He began nearly as well as you; but he +settled down into a quiet life, which was the very thing for which he +was least fitted. I do not know if he had altogether a happy time. He +lost interest in things, and grew shy and rather irritable. He +quarrelled with most of his neighbours, and got into a trick of +magnifying little troubles till he shrank from the slightest +discomfort." + +"And my mother?" + +"Ah, your mother was different--a cheery, brave woman. While she lived +she kept him in some measure of self-confidence, but you know she died +at your birth, Lewie, and after that he grew morose and retiring. I +speak about these things from the point of view of my profession, and I +fancy it is the special disease which lies in your blood. You have all +been over-cultured and enervated; as I say, you want some of the salt +and iron of life." + +The young man's brow was furrowed in a deep frown which in no way broke +the good-humour of his face. They were nearing a cluster of houses, the +last clachan of sorts in the glen, where a kirk steeple in a grove of +trees proclaimed civilization. A shepherd passed them with a couple of +dogs, striding with masterful step towards home and comfort. The cheery +glow of firelight from the windows pleased both men as they were whirled +through the raw weather. + +"There, you see," said the Doctor, nodding his head towards the +retreating figure; "there's a man who in his own way knows the secret of +life. Most of his days are spent in dreary, monotonous toil. He is for +ever wrestling with the weather and getting scorched and frozen, and the +result is that the sparse enjoyments of his life are relished with a +rare gusto. He sucks his pipe of an evening with a zest which the man +who lies on his back all day smoking knows nothing about. So, too, the +labourer who hoes turnips for one and sixpence the day. They know the +arduousness of life, which is a lesson we must all learn sooner or +later. You people who have been coddled and petted must learn it, too; +and for you it is harder to learn, but pleasanter in the learning, +because you stand above the bare need of things, and have leisure for +the adornments. We must all be fighters and strugglers, Lewie, and it +is better to wear out than to rust out. It is bad to let choice things +become easily familiar; for, you know, familiarity is apt to beget a +proverbial offspring." + +The young man had listened attentively, but suddenly he leaned from the +seat and with a dexterous twitch of his whip curled it round the leg of +a boy of sixteen who stood before a cottage. + +"Hullo, Jock," he cried. "When are you coming up to see me? Bring your +brother some day and we'll go and fish the Midburn." The urchin pulled +off a ragged cap and grinned with pleasure. + +"That's the boy you pulled out of the Avelin?" asked the Doctor. "I had +heard of that performance. It was a good introduction to your +home-coming." + +"It was nothing," said the young man, flushing slightly. "I was +crossing the ford and the stream was up a bit. The boy was fishing, +wading pretty deep, and in turning round to stare at me he slipped and +was carried down. I merely rode my horse out and collared him. There +was no danger." + +"And the Black Linn just below," said the Doctor, incredulously. "You +have got the usual modesty of the brave man, Lewie." + +"It was a very small thing. My horse knew its business--that was all." +And he flicked nervously with the whip. + +A grey house among trees rose on the left with a quaint gateway of +unhewn stone. The dogcart pulled up, and the Doctor scrambled down and +stood shaking the rain from his hat and collar. He watched the young +man till, with a skilful turn, he had entered Etterick gates, and then +with a more meditative face than is usual in a hungry man he went +through the trees to his own dwelling. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +LADY MANORWATER'S GUESTS + + +When the afternoon train from the south drew into Gledsmuir station, a +girl who had been devouring the landscape for the last hour with eager +eyes, rose nervously to prepare for exit. To Alice Wishart the country +was a novel one, and the prospect before her an unexplored realm of +guesses. The daughter of a great merchant, she had lived most of her +days in the ugly environs of a city, save for such time as she had spent +at the conventional schools. She had never travelled; the world of men +and things was merely a name to her, and a girlhood, lonely and +brightened chiefly by the companionship of books, had not given her +self-confidence. She had casually met Lady Manorwater at some political +meeting in her father's house, and the elder woman had taken a strong +liking to the quiet, abstracted child. Then came an invitation to +Glenavelin, accepted gladly yet with much fear and searching of heart. +Now, as she looked out on the shining mountain land, she was full of +delight that she was about to dwell in the heart of it. Something of +pride, too, was present, that she was to be the guest of a great lady, +and see something of a life which seemed infinitely remote to her +provincial thoughts. But when her journey drew near its end she was +foolishly nervous, and scanned the platform with anxious eye. + +The sight of her hostess reassured her. Lady Manorwater was a small +middle-aged woman, with a thin classical face, large colourless eyes, +and untidy fair hair. She was very plainly dressed, and as she darted +forward to greet the girl with entire frankness and kindness, Alice +forgot her fears and kissed her heartily. A languid young woman was +introduced as Miss Afflint, and in a few minutes the three were in the +Glenavelin carriage with the wide glen opening in front. + +"Oh, my dear, I hope you will enjoy your visit. We are quite a small +party, for Jack says Glenavelin is far too small to entertain in. You +are fond of the country, aren't you? And of course the place is very +pretty. There is tennis and golf and fishing; but perhaps you don't +like these things? We are not very well off for neighbours, but we are +large enough in number to be sufficient to ourselves. Don't you think +so, Bertha?" And Lady Manorwater smiled at the third member of the +group. + +Miss Afflint, a silent girl, smiled back and said nothing. She had been +engaged in a secret study of Alice's face, and whenever the object of +the study raised her eyes she found a pair of steady blue ones beaming +on her. It was a little disconcerting, and Alice gazed out at the +landscape with a fictitious curiosity. + +They passed out of the Gled valley into the narrower strath of Avelin, +and soon, leaving the meadows behind, went deep into the recesses of +woods. At a narrow glen bridged by the road and bright with the spray +of cascades and the fresh green of ferns, Alice cried out in delight, +"Oh, I must come back here some day and sketch it. What a Paradise of a +place!" + +"Then you had better ask Lewie's permission." And Lady Manorwater +laughed. + +"Who is Lewie?" asked the girl, anticipating some gamekeeper or +shepherd. + +"Lewie is my nephew. He lives at Etterick, up at the head of the glen." + +Miss Afflint spoke for the first time. "A very good man. You should +know Lewie, Miss Wishart. I'm sure you would like him. He is a great +traveller, you know, and has written a famous book. Lewis Haystoun is +his full name." + +"Why, I have read it," cried Alice. "You mean the book about Kashmir. +But I thought the author was an old man." + +"Lewie is not very old," said his aunt; "but I haven't seen him for +years, so he may be decrepit by this time. He is coming home soon, he +says, but he never writes. I know two of his friends who pay a Private +Inquiry Office to send them news of him." + +Alice laughed and became silent. What merry haphazard people were these +she had fallen among! At home everything was docketed and ordered. +Meals were immovable feasts, the hour for bed and the hour for rising +were more regular than the sun's. Her father was full of proverbs on +the virtue of regularity, and was wont to attribute every vice and +misfortune to its absence. And yet here were men and women who got on +very well without it. She did not wholly like it. The little +doctrinaire in her revolted and she was pleased to be censorious. + +"You are a very learned young woman, aren't you?" said Lady Manorwater, +after a short silence. "I have heard wonderful stories about your +learning. Then I hope you will talk to Mr. Stocks, for I am afraid he +is shocked at Bertha's frivolity. He asked her if she was in favour of +the Prisons Regulation Bill, and she was very rude." + +"I only said," broke in Miss Afflint, "that owing to my lack of definite +local knowledge I was not in a position to give an answer commensurate +with the gravity of the subject." She spoke in a perfect imitation of +the tone of a pompous man. + +"Bertha, I do not approve of you," said Lady Manorwater. "I forbid you +to mimic Mr. Stocks. He is very clever, and very much in earnest over +everything. I don't wonder that a butterfly like you should laugh, but +I hope Miss Wishart will be kind to him." + +"I am afraid I am very ignorant," said Alice hastily, "and I am very +useless. I never did any work of any sort in my life, and when I think +of you I am ashamed." + +"Oh, my dear child, please don't think me a paragon," cried her hostess +in horror. "I am a creature of vague enthusiasms and I have the sense +to know it. Sometimes I fancy I am a woman of business, and then I take +up half a dozen things till Jack has to interfere to prevent financial +ruin. I dabble in politics and I dabble in philanthropy; I write review +articles which nobody reads, and I make speeches which are a horror to +myself and a misery to my hearers. Only by the possession of a sense of +humour am I saved from insignificance." + +To Alice the speech was the breaking of idols. Competence, +responsibility were words she had been taught to revere, and to hear +them light-heartedly disavowed seemed an upturning of the foundation of +things. You will perceive that her education had not included that +valuable art, the appreciation of the flippant. + +By this time the carriage was entering the gates of the park, and the +thick wood cleared and revealed long vistas of short hill grass, rising +and falling like moorland, and studded with solitary clumps of firs. +Then a turn in the drive brought them once more into shadow, this time +beneath a heath-clad knoll where beeches and hazels made a pleasant +tangle. All this was new, not three years old; but soon they were in +the ancient part of the policy which had surrounded the old house of +Glenavelin. Here the grass was lusher, the trees antique oaks and +beeches, and grey walls showed the boundary of an old pleasure-ground. +Here in the soft sunlit afternoon sleep hung like a cloud, and the peace +of centuries dwelt in the long avenues and golden pastures. Another +turning and the house came in sight, at first glance a jumble of grey +towers and ivied walls. Wings had been built to the original square +keep, and even now it was not large, a mere moorland dwelling. But the +whitewashed walls, the crow-step gables, and the quaint Scots baronial +turrets gave it a perfection to the eye like a house in a dream. To +Alice, accustomed to the vulgarity of suburban villas with Italian +campaniles, a florid lodge a stone's throw from the house, darkened too +with smoke and tawdry with paint, this old-world dwelling was a patch of +wonderland. Her eyes drank in the beauty of the place--the great blue +backs of hill beyond, the acres of sweet pasture, the primeval woods. + +"Is this Glenavelin?" she cried. "Oh, what a place to live in!" + +"Yes, it's very pretty, dear." And Lady Manorwater, who possessed half a +dozen houses up and down the land, patted her guest's arm and looked +with pleasure on the flushed girlish face. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later, Alice, having completed dressing, leaned out of her +bedroom window to drink in the soft air of evening. She had not brought +a maid, and had refused her hostess's offer to lend her her own on the +ground that maids were a superfluity. It was her desire to be a very +practical young person, a scorner of modes and trivialities, and yet she +had taken unusual care with her toilet this evening, and had spent many +minutes before the glass. Looking at herself carefully, a growing +conviction began to be confirmed--that she was really rather pretty. +She had reddish-brown hair and--a rare conjunction--dark eyes and +eyebrows and a delicate colour. As a small girl she had lamented +bitterly the fate that had not given her the orthodox beauty of the dark +or fair maiden, and in her school days she had passed for plain. Now it +began to dawn on her that she had beauty of a kind--the charm of +strangeness; and her slim strong figure had the grace which a wholesome +life alone can give. She was in high spirits, curious, interested, and +generous. The people amused her, the place was a fairyland and outside +the golden weather lay still and fragrant among the hills. + +When she came down to the drawing-room she found the whole party +assembled. A tall man with a brown beard and a slight stoop ceased to +assault the handle of a firescreen and came over to greet her. He had +only come back half an hour ago, he explained, and so had missed her +arrival. The face attracted and soothed her. Abundant kindness lurked +in the humorous brown eyes, and a queer pucker on the brow gave him the +air of a benevolent despot. If this was Lord Manorwater, she had no +further dread of the great ones of the earth. There were four other +men, two of them mild, spectacled people, who had the air of students +and a precise affected mode of talk, and one a boy cousin of whom no one +took the slightest notice. The fourth was a striking figure, a man of +about forty in appearance, tall and a little stout, with a rugged face +which in some way suggested a picture of a prehistoric animal in an old +natural history she had owned. The high cheek-bones, large nose, and +slightly protruding eyes had an unfinished air about them, as if their +owner had escaped prematurely from a mould. A quantity of bushy black +hair--which he wore longer than most men--enhanced the dramatic air of his +appearance. It was a face full of vigour and a kind of strength, +shrewd, a little coarse, and solemn almost to the farcical. He was +introduced in a rush of words by the hostess, but beyond the fact that +it was a monosyllable, Alice did not catch his name. + +Lord Manorwater took in Miss Afflint, and Alice fell to the dark man +with the monosyllabic name. He had a way of bowing over his hand which +slightly repelled the girl, who had no taste for elaborate manners. His +first question, too, displeased her. He asked her if she was one of the +Wisharts of some unpronounceable place. + +She replied briefly that she did not know. Her grandfathers on both +sides had been farmers. + +The gentleman bowed with the smiling unconcern of one to whom pedigree +is a matter of course. + +"I have heard often of your father," he said. "He is one of the local +supports of the party to which I have the honour to belong. He +represents one great section of our retainers, our host another. I am +glad to see such friendship between the two." And he smiled elaborately +from Alice to Lord Manorwater. + +Alice was uncomfortable. She felt she must be sitting beside some very +great man, and she was tortured by vain efforts to remember the +monosyllable which had stood for his name. She did not like his voice, +and, great man or not, she resented the obvious patronage. He spoke +with a touch of the drawl which is currently supposed to belong only to +the half-educated classes of England. + +She turned to the boy who sat on the other side of her. The young +gentleman--his name was Arthur and, apparently, nothing else--was only +too ready to talk. He proceeded to explain, compendiously, his doings of +the past week, to which the girl listened politely. Then anxiety got +the upper hand, and she asked in a whisper, _a propos_ of nothing in +particular, the name of her left-hand neighbour. + +"They call him Stocks," said the boy, delighted at the tone of +confidence, and was going on to sketch the character of the gentleman in +question when Alice cut him short. + +"Will you take me to fish some day?" she asked. + +"Any day," gasped the hilarious Arthur. "I'm ready, and I'll tell you +what, I know the very burn--" and he babbled on happily till he saw that +Miss Wishart had ceased to listen. It was the first time a pretty girl +had shown herself desirous of his company, and he was intoxicated with +the thought. + +But Alice felt that she was in some way bound to make the most of Mr. +Stocks, and she set herself heroically to the task. She had never heard +of him, but then she was not well versed in the minutiae of things +political, and he clearly was a politician. Doubtless to her father his +name was a household word. So she spoke to him of Glenavelin and its +beauties. + +He asked her if she had seen Royston Castle, the residence of his friend +the Duke of Sanctamund. When he had stayed there he had been much +impressed-- + +Then she spoke wildly of anything, of books and pictures and +people and politics. She found him well-informed, clever, and dogmatic. +The culminating point was reached when she embarked on a stray remark +concerning certain events then happening in India. + +He contradicted her with a lofty politeness. + +She quoted a book on Kashmir. + +He laughed the authority to scorn. "Lewis Haystoun?" he asked. "What +can he know about such things? A wandering dilettante, the worst type +of the pseudo-culture of our universities. He must see all things +through the spectacles of his upbringing." + +Fortunately he spoke in a low voice, but Lord Manorwater caught the +name. + +"You are talking about Lewie," he said; and then to the table at large, +"do you know that Lewie is home? I saw him to-day." + +Bertha Afflint clapped her hands. "Oh, splendid! When is he coming +over? I shall drive to Etterick to-morrow. No--bother! I can't go +to-morrow, I shall go on Wednesday." + +Lady Manorwater opened mild eyes of surprise. "Why didn't the boy +write?" And the young Arthur indulged in sundry exclamations, "Oh, +ripping, I say! What? A clinking good chap, my cousin Lewie!" + +"Who is this Lewis the well-beloved?" said Mr. Stocks. "I was talking +about a very different person--Lewis Haystoun, the author of a foolish +book on Kashmir." + +"Don't you like it?" said Lord Manorwater, pleasantly. "Well, it's the +same man. He is my nephew, Lewie Haystoun. He lives at Etterick, four +miles up the glen. You will see him over here to-morrow or the day +after." + +Mr. Stocks coughed loudly to cover his discomfiture. Alice could not +repress a little smile of triumph, but she was forbearing and for the +rest of dinner exerted herself to appease her adversary, listening to +his talk with an air of deference which he found entrancing. + +Meanwhile it was plain that Lord Manorwater was not quite at ease with +his company. Usually a man of brusque and hearty address, he showed his +discomfort by an air of laborious politeness. He was patronized for a +brief minute by Mr. Stocks, who set him right on some matter of +agricultural reform. Happening to be a specialist on the subject and an +enthusiastic farmer from his earliest days, he took the rebuke with +proper meekness. The spectacled people were talking earnestly with his +wife. Arthur was absorbed in his dinner and furtive glances at his +left-hand neighbour. There remained Bertha Afflint, whom he had +hitherto admired with fear. To talk with her was exhausting to frail +mortality, and he had avoided the pleasure except in moments of +boisterous bodily and mental health. Now she was his one resource, and +the unfortunate man, rashly entering into a contest of wit, found +himself badly worsted by her ready tongue. He declared that she was +worse than her mother, at which the unabashed young woman replied that +the superiority of parents was the last retort of the vanquished. He +registered an inward vow that Miss Afflint should be used on the morrow +as a weapon to quell Mr. Stocks. + +When Alice escaped to the drawing-room she found Bertha and her sister--a +younger and ruddier copy--busy with the letters which had arrived by the +evening post. Lady Manorwater, who reserved her correspondence for the +late hours, seized upon the girl and carried her off to sit by the great +French windows from which lawn and park sloped down to the moorland +loch. She chattered pleasantly about many things, and then innocently +and abruptly asked her if she had not found her companion at table +amusing. + +Alice, unaccustomed to fiction, gave a hesitating "Yes," at which her +hostess looked pleased. "He is very clever, you know," she said, "and +has been very useful to me on many occasions." + +Alice asked his occupation. + +"Oh, he has done many things. He has been very brave and quite the +maker of his own fortunes. He educated himself, and then I think he +edited some Nonconformist paper. Then he went into politics, and became +a Churchman. Some old man took a liking to him and left him his money, +and that was the condition. So I believe he is pretty well off now and +is waiting for a seat. He has been nursing this constituency, and since +the election comes off in a month or two, we asked him down here to +stay. He has also written a lot of things and he is somebody's private +secretary." And Lady Manorwater relapsed into vagueness. + +The girl listened without special interest, save that she modified her +verdict on Mr. Stocks, and allowed, some degree of respect for him to +find place in her heart. The fighter in life always appealed to her, +whatever the result of his struggle. + +Then Lady Manorwater proceeded to hymn his excellences in an +indeterminate, artificial manner, till the men came into the room, and +conversation became general. Lord Manorwater made his way to Alice, +thereby defeating Mr. Stocks, who tended in the same direction. "Come +outside and see things, Miss Wishart," he said. "It's a shame to miss a +Glenavelin evening if it's fine. We must appreciate our rarities." + +And Alice gladly followed him into the still air of dusk which made hill +and tree seem incredibly distant and the far waters of the lake merge +with the moorland in one shimmering golden haze. In the rhododendron +thickets sparse blooms still remained, and all along by the stream-side +stood stately lines of yellow iris above the white water-ranunculus. +The girl was sensitive to moods of season and weather, and she had +almost laughed at the incongruity of the two of them in modern clothes +in this fit setting for an old tale. Dickon of Glenavelin, the sworn +foe of the Lord of Etterick, on such nights as this had ridden up the +water with his bands to affront the quiet moonlight. And now his +descendant was pointing out dim shapes in the park which he said were +prize cattle. + +"Whew! what a weariness is civilization!" said the man, with comical +eyes. "We have been making talk with difficulty all the evening which +serves no purpose in the world. Upon my word, my kyloes have the best +of the bargain. And in a month or so there will be the election and I +shall have to go and rave--there is no other word for it, Miss +Wishart--rave on behalf of some fool or other, and talk Radicalism which +would make your friend Dickon turn in his grave, and be in earnest for +weeks when I know in the bottom of my heart that I am a humbug and care +for none of these things. How lightly politics and such matters sit on +us all!" + +"But you know you are talking nonsense," said the serious Alice. "After +all, these things are the most important, for they mean duty and courage +and--and--all that sort of thing." + +"Right, little woman," said he, smiling; "that is what Stocks tells me +twice a day, but, somehow, reproof comes better from you. Dear me! +it's a sad thing that a middle-aged legislator should be reproved by a +very little girl. Come and see the herons. The young birds will be +everywhere just now." + +For an hour in the moonlight they went a-sightseeing, and came back very +cool and fresh to the open drawing-room window. As they approached they +caught an echo of a loud, bland voice saying, "We must remember our +moral responsibilities, my dear Lady Manorwater. Now, for instance--" + +And a strange thing happened. For the first time in her life Miss Alice +Wishart felt that the use of loud and solemn words could jar upon her +feelings. She set it down resignedly to the evil influence of her +companion. + +In the calm of her bedroom Alice reviewed her recent hours. She +admitted to herself that she would enjoy her visit. A healthy and +active young woman, the mere prospect of an open-air life gave her +pleasure. Also she liked the people. Mentally she epitomized each of +the inmates of the house. Lady Manorwater was all she had pictured +her--a dear, whimsical, untidy creature, with odd shreds of cleverness +and a heart of gold. She liked the boy Arthur, and the spectacled +people seemed harmless. Bertha she was prepared to adore, for behind +the languor and wit she saw a very kindly and capable young woman +fashioned after her own heart. But of all she liked Lord Manorwater +best. She knew that he had a great reputation, that he was said to be +incessantly laborious, and she had expected some one of her father's +type, prim, angular, and elderly. Instead she found a boyish person +whom she could scold, and with women reproof is the first stone in the +foundation of friendship. On Mr. Stocks she generously reserved her +judgment, fearing the fate of the hasty. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +UPLAND WATERS + + +When Alice woke next morning the cool upland air was flooding through +the window, and a great dazzle of sunlight made the world glorious. She +dressed and ran out to the lawn, then past the loch right to the very +edge of the waste country. A high fragrance of heath and bog-myrtle was +in the wind, and the mouth grew cool as after long draughts of spring +water. Mists were crowding in the valleys, each bald mountain top shone +like a jewel, and far aloft in the heavens were the white streamers of +morn. Moorhens were plashing at the loch's edge, and one tall heron +rose from his early meal. The world was astir with life: sounds of the +_plonk-plonk_ of rising trout and the endless twitter of woodland birds +mingled with the far-away barking of dogs and the lowing of the +full-uddered cows in the distant meadows. Abashed and enchanted, the +girl listened. It was an elfin land where the old witch voices of hill +and river were not silenced. With the wind in her hair she climbed the +slope again to the garden ground, where she found a solemn-eyed collie +sniffing the fragrant wind in his morning stroll. + +Breakfast over, the forenoon hung heavy on her hands. It was Lady +Manorwater's custom to let her guests sit idle in the morning and follow +their own desire, but in the afternoon she would plan subtle and +far-reaching schemes of enjoyment. It was a common saying that in her +large good-nature she amused people regardless of their own expense. +She would light-heartedly make town-bred folk walk twenty miles or bear +the toil of infinite drives. But this was after lunch; before, her +guests might do as they pleased. Lord Manorwater went off to see some +tenant; Arthur, after vain efforts to decoy Alice into a fishing +expedition, went down the stream in a canoe, because to his fool's head +it seemed the riskiest means of passing the time at his disposal; Bertha +and her sister were writing letters; the spectacled people had settled +themselves below shady trees with voluminous papers and a pile of books. +Alice alone was idle. She made futile expeditions to the library, and +returned with an armful of volumes which she knew in her heart she would +never open. She found the deepest and most comfortable chair and placed +it in a shady place among beeches. But she could not stay there, and +must needs wander restlessly about the gardens, plucking flowers and +listlessly watching the gardeners at their work. + +Lunch-time found this young woman in a slightly irritable frame of mind. +The cause direct and indirect was Mr. Stocks, who had found her alone, +and had saddled her with his company for the space of an hour and a +half. His vein had been _badinage_ of the serious and reproving kind, and +the girl had been bored to distraction. But a misspent hour is soon +forgotten, and the sight of her hostess's cheery face would have +restored her to good humour had it not been for a thought which could +not be exorcised. She knew of Lady Manorwater's reputation as an +inveterate matchmaker, and in some subtle way the suspicion came to her +that that goddess had marked herself as a quarry. She found herself +next Mr. Stocks at meals, she had already listened to his eulogy from +her hostess's own lips, and to her unquiet fancy it seemed as if the +others stood back that they two might be together. Brought up in an +atmosphere of commerce, she was perfectly aware that she was a desirable +match for an embryo politician, and that sooner or later she would be +mistress of many thousands. The thought was a barbed vexation. To Mr. +Stocks she had been prepared to extend the tolerance of a happy +aloofness; now she found that she was driven to dislike him with all the +bitterness of unwelcome proximity. + +The result of such thoughts was that after lunch she disregarded her +hostess's preparations and set out for a long hill walk. Like all +perfectly healthy people, much exercise was as welcome to her as food +and sleep; ten miles were refreshing; fifteen miles in an afternoon an +exaltation. She reached the moor beyond the policies, and, once past +this rushy wilderness, came to the Avelin-side and a single plank bridge +which she crossed lightly without a tremor. Then came the highway, and +then a long planting of firs, and last of all the dip of a rushing +stream pouring down from the hills in a lonely wooded hollow. The girl +loved to explore, and here was a field ripe for adventure. + +Soon she grew flushed with the toil and the excitement; climbing the bed +of the stream was no child's play, for ugly corners had to be passed, +slippery rocks to be skirted, and many breakneck leaps to be effected. +Her spirits rose as the spray from little falls brushed her face and the +thick screen of the birches caught in her hair. When she reached a +vantage-rock and looked down on the chain of pools and rapids by which +she had come, a cry of delight broke from her lips. This was living, +this was the zest of life! The upland wind cooled her brow; she washed +her hands in a rocky pool and arranged her tangled tresses. What did +she care for Mr. Stocks or any man? He was far down on the lowlands +talking his pompous nonsense; she was on the hills with the sky above +her and the breeze of heaven around her, free, sovereign, the queen of +an airy land. + +With fresh wonder she scrambled on till the trees began to grow sparser +and an upland valley opened in view. Now the burn was quiet, running in +long shining shallows and falling over little rocks into deep brown +pools where the trout darted. On either side rose the gates of the +valley--two craggy knolls each with a few trees on its face. Beyond was +a green lawnlike place with a great confusion of blue mountains hemmed +around its head. Here, if anywhere, primeval peace had found its +dwelling, and Alice, her eyes bright with pleasure, sat on a green +knoll, too rapt with the sight for word or movement. + +Then very slowly, like an epicure lingering at a feast, she walked up +the banks of the burn, now high above a trough of rock, now down in a +green winding hollow. Suddenly she came on the spirits of the place in +the shape of two boys down on their faces groping among the stones of a +pool. + +One was very small and tattered, one about sixteen; both were barefoot +and both were wet and excited. "Tam, ye stot, ye've let the muckle yin +aff again," groaned the smaller. "Oh, be canny, man! If we grip him +it'll be the biggest trout that the laird will have in his basket." The +elder boy, who was bearing the heat and burden of the work, could only +groan "Heather!" at intervals. It seemed to be his one exclamation. + +Now it happened that the two ragamuffins lifted their eyes and saw to +their amazement a girl walking on the bank above them, a girl who smiled +comrade-like on them and seemed in no way surprised. They propped +themselves on their elbows and stared. "Heather!" they ejaculated in +one breath. Then they, too, grinned broadly, for it was impossible to +resist so good-humoured an intruder. She held her head high and walked +like a queen, till a turn of the water hid her. "It's a wumman," gasped +the smaller boy. "And she's terrible bonny," commented the more +critical brother. Then the two fell again to the quest of the great +trout. + +Meanwhile the girl pursued her way till she came to a fall where the +bank needed warier climbing. As she reached the top a little flushed +and panting, she became conscious that the upland valley was not without +inhabitants. For, not six paces off, stood a man's figure, his back +turned towards her, and his mind apparently set on mending a piece of +tackle. + +She stood for a moment hesitating. How could she pass without being +seen? The man was blissfully unconscious of her presence, and as he +worked he whistled Schubert's "Wohin," and whistled it very badly. Then +he fell to apostrophizing his tackle, and then he grew irritable. +"Somebody come and keep this thing taut," he cried. "Tam, Jock! where +on earth are you?" + +The thing in question was lying at Alice's feet in wavy coils. + +"Jock, you fool, where are you?" cried the man, but he never looked +round and went on biting and tying. Then an impulse took the girl and +she picked up the line. "That's right," cried the man, "pull it as +tight as you can," and Alice tugged heroically at the waterproof silk. +She felt horribly nervous, and was conscious that she must look a very +flushed and untidy young barbarian. Many times she wanted to drop it +and run away, but the thought of the menaces against the absent Jock and +of her swift discovery deterred her. When he was done with her help he +might go on working and never look round. Then she would escape +unnoticed down the burn. + +But no such luck befell her. With a satisfied tug he pronounced the +thing finished and wheeled round to regard his associates. "Now, you +young wretches--" and the words froze on his lips, for in the place of +two tatterdemalion boys he saw a young girl holding his line limply and +smiling with much nervousness. + +"Oh," he cried, and then became dumb and confused. He was shy and +unhappy with women, save the few whom he had known from childhood. The +girl was no better. She had blushed deeply, and was now minutely +scanning the stones in the burn. Then she raised her eyes, met his, and +the difficulty was solved by both falling into fits of deep laughter. +She was the first to speak. + +"I am so sorry I surprised you. I did not see you till I was close to +you, and then you were abusing somebody so terribly that to stop such +language I had to stop and help you. I saw Tam and Jock at a pool a +long way down, so they couldn't hear you, you know." + +"And I'm very much obliged to you. You held it far better than Tam or +Jock would have done. But how did you get up here?" + +"I climbed up the burn," said Alice simply, putting up a hand to confine +a wandering tress. The young man saw a small, very simply dressed girl, +with a flushed face and bright, deep eyes. The small white hat crowned +a great tangle of wonderful reddish gold hair. She held herself with +the grace which is born of natural health and no modish training; the +strong hazel stick, the scratched shoes, and the wet fringes of her gown +showed how she had spent the afternoon. The young man, having received +an excellent education, thought of Dryads and Oreads. + +Alice for her part saw a strong, well-knit being, with a brown, +clean-shaven face, a straight nose, and a delicate, humorous mouth. He +had large grey eyes, very keen, quizzical, and kindly. His raiment was +disgraceful--an old knickerbocker suit with a ruinous Norfolk jacket, +patched at the elbows and with leather at wrist and shoulder. +Apparently he scorned the June sun, for he had no cap. His pockets +seemed bursting with tackle, and a discarded basket lay on the ground. +The whole figure pleased her, its rude health, simplicity, and disorder. +The atrocious men who sometimes came to her father's house had been +miracles of neatness, and Mr. Stocks was wont to robe his person in the +most faultless of shooting suits. + +A fugitive memory began to haunt the girl. She had met or heard of this +man before. The valley was divided between Glenavelin and Etterick. He +was not the Doctor, and he was not the minister. Might not he be that +Lewie, the well-beloved, whose praises she had heard consistently sung +since her arrival? It pleased her to think that she had been the first +to meet the redoubtable young man. + +To them there entered the two boys, the younger dangling a fish. "It is +the big trout ye lost," he cried. "We guddled 'um. We wad has gotten +'um afore, but a wumman frichted 'um." Then turning unabashed to Alice, +he said in accusing tones, "That's the wumman!" + +The elder boy gently but firmly performed on his brother the operation +known as "scragging." It was a subdued spirit which emerged from the +fraternal embrace. + +"Pit the fush in the basket, Tam," said he, "and syne gang away wide up +the hill till I cry ye back." The tones implied that his younger brother +was no fit company for two gentlemen and a lady. + +"I won't spoil your fishing," said Alice, fearing fratricidal strife. +"You are fishing up, so I had better go down the burn again." And with a +dignified nod to the others she turned to go. + +Jock sprang forward with a bound and proceeded to stone the small Tam +up the hill. He coursed that young gentleman like a dog, bidding him +"come near," or "gang wide," or "lie down there," to all of which the +culprit, taking the sport in proper spirit, gaily responded. + +"I think you had better not go down the burn," said the man +reflectively. "You should keep the dry hillside. It is safer." + +"Oh, I am not afraid," said the girl, laughing. + +"But then I might want to fish down, and the trout are very shy there," +said he, lying generously. + +"Well, I won't then, but please tell me where Glenavelin is, for the +stream-side is my only direction." + +"You are staying there?" he asked with a pleased face. "We shall meet +again, for I shall be over to-morrow. That fence on the hillside is +their march, and if you follow it you will come to the footbridge on the +Avelin. Many thanks for taking Jock's place and helping me." + +He watched her for a second as she lightly jumped the burn and climbed +the peaty slope. Then he turned to his fishing, and when Alice looked +back from the vantage-ground of the hill shoulder she saw a figure +bending intently below a great pool. She was no coquette, but she could +not repress a tinge of irritation at so callous and self-absorbed a +young man. Another would have been profuse in thanks and would have +accompanied her to point out the road, or in some way or other would +have declared his appreciation of her presence. He might have told her +his name, and then there would have been a pleasant informal +introduction, and they could have talked freely. If he came to +Glenavelin to-morrow, she would have liked to appear as already an +acquaintance of so popular a guest. + +But such thoughts did not long hold their place. She was an honest +young woman, and she readily confessed that fluent manners and the air +of the _cavaliere servente_ were things she did not love. Carelessness +suited well with a frayed jacket and the companionship of a hill burn +and two ragged boys. So, comforting her pride with proverbs, she +returned to Glenavelin to find the place deserted save for dogs, and in +their cheering presence read idly till dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AFTERNOON IN A GARDEN + + +The gardens of Glenavelin have an air of antiquity beyond the dwelling, +for there the modish fashions of another century have been followed with +enthusiasm. There are clipped yews and long arched avenues, bowers and +summer-houses of rustic make, and a terraced lawn fringed with a +Georgian parapet. A former lord had kept peacocks innumerable, and +something of the tradition still survived. Set in the heart of hilly +moorlands, it was like a cameo gem in a tartan plaid, a piece of old +Vauxhall or Ranelagh in an upland vale. Of an afternoon sleep reigned +supreme. The shapely immobile trees, the grey and crumbling stone, the +lone green walks vanishing into a bosky darkness were instinct with the +quiet of ages. It needed but Lady Prue with her flounces and furbelows +and Sir Pertinax with his cane and buckled shoon to re-create the +ancient world before good Queen Anne had gone to her rest. + +In one of the shadiest corners of a great lawn Lady Manorwater sat +making tea. Bertha, with a broad hat shading her eyes, dozed over a +magazine in a deck-chair. That morning she and Alice had broken the +convention of the house and gone riding in the haughlands till lunch. +Now she suffered the penalty and dozed, but her companion was very wide +awake, being a tireless creature who knew not lethargy. Besides, there +was sufficient in prospect to stir her curiosity. Lady Manorwater had +announced some twenty times that day that her nephew Lewis would come to +tea, and Alice, knowing the truth of the prophecy, was prepared to +receive him. + +The image of the forsaken angler remained clear in her memory, and she +confessed to herself that he interested her. The girl had no +connoisseur's eye for character; her interest was the frank and +unabashed interest in a somewhat mysterious figure who was credited by +all his friends with great gifts and a surprising amiability. After +breakfast she had captured one of the spectacled people, whose name was +Hoddam. He was a little shy man, one of the unassuming tribe of +students by whom all the minor intellectual work of the world is done, +and done well. It is a great class, living in the main in red-brick +villas on the outskirts of academic towns, marrying mild blue-stockings, +working incessantly, and finally attaining to the fame of mention in +prefaces and foot-notes, and a short paragraph in the _Times_ at the +last.... Mr. Hoddam did not seek the company of one who was young, +pretty, an heiress, and presumably flippant, but he was flattered when +she plainly sought him. + +"Mr. Lewis Haystoun is coming here this afternoon," she had announced. +"Do you know him?" + +"I have read his book," said her victim. + +"Yes, but did you not know him at Oxford? You were there with him, were +you not?" + +"Yes, we were there together. I knew him by sight, of course, for he +was a very well-known person. But, you see, we belonged to very +different sets." + +"How do you mean?" asked the blunt Alice. + +"Well, you see," began Mr. Hoddam awkwardly--absolute honesty was one +of his characteristics--"he was very well off, and he lived with a +sporting set, and he was very exclusive." + +"But I thought he was clever--I thought he was rather brilliant?" + +"Oh, he was! Indubitably! He got everything he wanted, but then he got +them easily and had a lot of time for other things, whereas most of us +had not a moment to spare. He got the best First of his year and the +St. Chad's Fellowship, but I think he cared far more about winning the +'Varsity Grind. Men who knew him said he was an extremely good fellow, +but he had scores of rich sporting friends, and nobody else ever got to +know him. I have heard him speak often, and his manner gave one the +impression that he was a tremendous swell, you know, and rather +conceited. People used to think him a sort of universal genius who +could do everything. I suppose he was quite the ablest man that had +been there for years, but I should think he would succeed ultimately as +the man of action and not as the scholar." + +"You give him a most unlovely character," said the girl. + +"I don't mean to. I own to being entirely fascinated by him. But he +was never, I think, really popular. He was supposed to be intolerant of +mediocrity; and also he used to offend quite honest, simple-minded +people by treating their beliefs very cavalierly. I used to compare him +with Raleigh or Henri IV.--the proud, confident man of action." + +Alice had pondered over Mr. Hoddam's confessions and was prepared to +receive the visitor with coldness. The vigorous little democrat in her +hated arrogance. Before, if she had asked herself what type on earth +she hated most, she would have decided for the unscrupulous, proud man. +And yet this Lewis must be lovable. That brown face had infinite +attractiveness, and she trusted Lady Manorwater's acuteness and goodness +of heart. + +Lord Manorwater had gone off on some matter of business and taken the +younger Miss Afflint with him. As Alice looked round the little +assembly on the lawn, she felt for the first time the insignificance of +the men. The large Mr. Stocks was not at his best in such +surroundings. He was the typical townsman, and bore with him wherever +he went an atmosphere of urban dust and worry. He hungered for +ostentation, he could only talk well when he felt that he impressed his +hearers; Bertha, who was not easily impressed, he shunned like a plague. +The man, reflected the censorious Alice, had no shades or half-tones in +his character; he was all bald, strong, and crude. Now he was talking +to his hostess with the grace of the wise man unbending. + +"I shall be pleased indeed to meet your nephew," he said. "I feel sure +that we have many interests in common. Do you say he lives near?" + +Lady Manorwater, ever garrulous on family matters, readily enlightened +him. "Etterick is his, and really all the land round here. We simply +live on a patch in the middle of it. The shooting is splendid, and +Lewie is a very keen sportsman. His mother was my husband's sister, and +died when he was born. He is wonderfully unspoiled to have had such a +lonely boyhood." + +"How did the family get the land?" he asked. It was a matter which +interested him, for democratic politician though he was, he looked +always forward to the day when he should own a pleasant country +property, and forget the troubles of life in the Nirvana of the +respectable. + +"Oh, they've had it for ages. They are a very old family, you know, and +look down upon us as parvenus. They have been everything in their +day--soldiers, statesmen, lawyers; and when we were decent merchants in +Abbeykirk three centuries ago, they were busy making history. When you +go to Etterick you must see the pictures. There is a fine one by +Jameson of the Haystoun who fought with Montrose, and Raeburn painted +most of the Haystouns of his time. They were a very handsome race, at +least the men; the women were too florid and buxom for my taste." + +"And this Lewis--is he the only one of the family?" + +"The very last, and of course he does his best to make away with himself +by risking his precious life in Hindu Kush or Tibet or somewhere." Her +ladyship was geographically vague. + +"What a pity he does not realize his responsibilities!" said the +politician. "He might do so much." + +But at the moment it dawned upon the speaker that the shirker of +responsibilities was appearing in person. There strode towards them, +across the lawn, a young man and two dogs. + +"How do you do, Aunt Egeria?" he cried, and he caught her small woman's +hand in a hard brown one and smiled on the little lady. + +Bertha Afflint had flung her magazine to the winds and caught his +available left hand. "Oh, Lewie, you wretch! how glad we are to see +you again." Meantime the dogs performed a solemn minuet around her +ladyship's knees. + +The young man, when he had escaped from the embraces of his friends, +turned to the others. He seemed to recognize two of them, for he shook +hands cordially with the two spectacled people. "Hullo, Hoddam, how are +you? And Imrie! Who would have thought of finding you here?" And he +poured forth a string of kind questions till the two beamed with +pleasure. + +Then Alice heard dimly words of introduction: "Miss Wishart, Mr. +Haystoun," and felt herself bowing automatically. She actually felt +nervous. The disreputable fisher of the day before was in ordinary +riding garments of fair respectability. He recognized her at once, but +he, too, seemed to lose for a moment his flow of greetings. His tone +insensibly changed to a conventional politeness, and he asked her some +of the stereotyped questions with which one greets a stranger. She felt +sharply that she was a stranger to whom the courteous young man assumed +more elaborate manners. The freedom of the day before seemed gone. She +consoled herself with the thought that whereas then she had been warm, +flushed, and untidy, she was now very cool and elegant in her prettiest +frock. + +Then Mr. Stocks arose and explained that he was delighted to meet Mr. +Lewis Haystoun, that he knew of his reputation, and hoped to have some +pleasant talk on matters dear to the heart of both. At which Lewis +shunned the vacant seat between Bertha and that gentleman, and stretched +himself on the lawn beside Alice's chair. A thrill of pleasure entered +the girl's heart, to her own genuine surprise. + +"Are Tam and Jock at peace now?" she asked. + +"Tam and Jock are never at peace. Jock is sedate and grave and old for +his years, while Tam is simply a human collie. He has the same endearing +manners and irresponsible mind. I had to fish him out of several +rock-pools after you left." + +Alice laughed, and Lady Manorwater said in wonder, "I didn't know you +had met Lewie before, Alice." + +"Miss Wishart and I forgathered accidentally at the Midburn yesterday," +said the man. + +"Oh, you went there," cried the aggrieved Arthur, "and you never told +me! Why, it is the best water about here, and yesterday was a +first-rate day. What did you catch, Lewie?" + +"Twelve pounds--about four dozen trout." + +"Listen to that! And to think that that great hulking chap got all the +sport!" And the boy intercepted his cousin's tea by way of retaliation. + +Then Mr. Stocks had his innings, with Lady Manorwater for company, and +Lewis was put through a strict examination on his doings for the past +years. + +"What made you choose that outlandish place, my dear?" asked his aunt. + +"Oh, partly the chance of a shot at big game, partly a restless interest +in frontier politics which now and then seizes me. But really it was +Wratislaw's choice." + +"Do you know Wratislaw?" asked Mr. Stocks abruptly. + +"Tommy?--why, surely! My best of friends. He had got his fellowship +some years before I went up, but I often saw him at Oxford, and he has +helped me innumerable times." The young man spoke eagerly, prepared to +extend warm friendship to any acquaintance of his friend's. + +"He and I have sometimes crossed swords," said Mr. Stocks pompously. + +Lewis nodded, and forbore to ask which had come off the better. + +"He is, of course, very able," said Mr. Stocks, making a generous +admission. + +His hearer wondered why he should be told of a man's ability when he had +spoken of him as his friend. + +"Have you heard much of him lately?" he asked. "We corresponded +regularly when I was abroad, but of course he never would speak about +himself, and I only saw him for a short time last week in London." + +The gentleman addressed waved a deprecating hand. + +"He has had no popular recognition. Such merits as he has are too aloof +to touch the great popular heart. But we who believe in the people and +work for them have found him a bitter enemy. The idle, academic, +superior person, whatever his gifts, is a serious hindrance to honest +work," said the popular idol. + +"I shouldn't call him idle or superior," said Lewis quietly. "I have +seen hard workers, but I have never seen anything like Tommy. He is a +perfect mill-horse, wasting his fine talent on a dreary routine, merely +because he is conscientious and nobody can do it so well." + +He always respected honesty, so he forbore to be irritated with this +assured speaker. + +But Alice interfered to prevent jarring. + +"I read your book, Mr. Haystoun. What a time you must have had! You +say that north of Bardur or some place like that there are two hundred +miles of utterly unknown land till you come to Russian territory. I +should have thought that land important. Why doesn't some one penetrate +it? + +"Well, for various causes. It is very high land and the climate is not +mild. Also, there are abundant savage tribes with a particularly +effective crooked kind of knife. And, finally, our Government +discourages British enterprise there, and Russia would do the same as +soon as she found out." + +"But what a chance for an adventurer!" said Alice, with a face aglow. + +Lewis looked up at the slim figure in the chair above him, and caught +the gleam of dark eyes. + +"Well, some day, Miss Wishart--who knows?" he said slowly and +carelessly. + +But three people looked at him, Bertha, his aunt, and Mr. Stocks, and +three people saw the same thing. His face had closed up like a steel +trap. It was no longer the kindly, humorous face of the sportsman and +good fellow, but the keen, resolute face of the fighter, the schemer, +the man of daring. The lines about his chin and brow seemed to tighten +and strengthen and steel, while the grey eyes had for a moment a glint +of fire. + +Three people never forgot that face. It was a pity that the lady at his +side was prevented from seeing it by her position, for otherwise life +might have gone differently with both. But the things which we call +chance are in the power of the Fateful Goddesses who reserve their right +to juggle with poor humanity. + +Alice only heard the words, but they pleased her. Mr. Stocks fell +farther into the background of disfavour. She had imagination and fire +as well as common sense. It was the purple and fine gold which first +caught her fancy, though on reflection she might decide for the +hodden-grey. So she was very gracious to the young adventurer. And +Arthur's brows grew dark as Erebus. + + * * * * * + +Lewis rode home in the late afternoon to Etterick in a haze of golden +weather with an abstracted air and a slack bridle. A small, dainty +figure tripped through the mazes of his thoughts. This man, usually +oblivious of woman's presence, now mooned like any schoolboy. Those +fresh young eyes and the glory of that hair! And to think that once he +had sworn by black! + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A CONFERENCE OF THE POWERS + + +It was the sultriest of weather in London--days when the city lay in a +fog of heat, when the paving cracked, and the brow was damp from the +slightest movement and the mind of the stranger was tortured by the +thought of airy downs and running rivers. The leaves in the Green Park +were withered and dusty, the window-boxes in Mayfair had a tarnished +look, and horse and man moved with unwilling languor. A tall young man +in a grey frockcoat searched the street for shadow, and finding none +entered the doorway of a club which promised coolness. + +Mr. George Winterham removed his top-hat, had a good wash, and then +sought the smoking room. Seen to better advantage, he was sufficiently +good-looking, with an elegant if somewhat lanky frame, a cheerful +countenance, and a great brown moustache which gave him the air +military. But he was no soldier, being indeed that anomalous creature, +the titular barrister, who shows his profession by rarely entering the +chambers and by an ignorance of law more profound than Necessity's. + +He found the shadiest corner of the smoking room and ordered the coolest +drink he could think of. Then he smiled, for he saw advancing to him +across the room another victim of the weather. This was a small, thin +man, with a finely-shaped dark head and the most perfectly-fitting +clothes. He had been deep in a review, but at the sight of the wearied +giant in the corner he had forgotten his interest in the "Entomology of +the Riviera." He looked something of the artist or the man of letters, +but in truth he had no taint of Bohemianism about him, being a very +respectable person and a rising politician. His name was Arthur +Mordaunt, but because it was the fashion at the time for a certain class +of people to address each other in monosyllables, his friends invariably +knew him as "John." + +He dropped into a chair and regarded his companion with half-closed +eyes. + +"Well, John. Dished, eh? Most infernal heat I ever endured! I can't +stand it, you know. I'll have to go away." + +"Think," said the other, "think that at this moment somewhere in the +country there are great, cool, deep woods and lakes and waterfalls, and +we might be sitting in flannels instead of being clothed in these +garments of sin." + +"Think," said George, "of nothing of the kind. Think of high upland +glens and full brown rivers, and hillsides where there is always wind. +Why do I tantalize myself and talk to a vexatious idiot like you?" + +This young man had a deep voice, a most emphatic manner of speech, and a +trick of cheerfully abusing his friends which they rather liked than +otherwise. + +"And why should I sit opposite six feet of foolishness which can give me +no comfort? Whew! But I think I am getting cool at last. I have sworn +to make use of my first half-hour of reasonable temperature and +consequent clearness of mind to plan flight from this place." + +"May I come with you, my pretty maid? I am hideously sick of July in +town. I know Mabel will never forgive me, but I must risk it." + +Mabel was the young man's sister, and the friendship between the two was +a perpetual joke. As a small girl she had been wont to con eagerly her +brother's cricketing achievements, for George had been a famous +cricketer, and annually went crazy with excitement at the Eton and +Harrow match. She exercised a maternal care over him, and he stood in +wholesome fear of her and ordered his doings more or less at her +judgment. Now she was married, but she still supervised her tall +brother, and the victim made no secret of the yoke. + +Suddenly Arthur jumped to his feet. "I say, what about Lewis Haystoun? +He is home now, somewhere in Scotland. Have you heard a word about +him?" + +"He has never written," groaned George, but he took out a pocket-book +and shook therefrom certain newspaper cuttings. "The people I employ +sent me these about him to-day." And he laid them out on his knee. + +The first of them was long, and consisted of a belated review of Mr. +Haystoun's book. George, who never read such things, handed it to +Arthur, who glanced over the lines and returned it. The second +explained in correct journalese that the Manorwater family had returned +to Glenavelin for the summer and autumn, and that Mr. Lewis Haystoun +was expected at Etterick shortly. The third recorded the opening of a +bazaar in the town of Gledsmuir which Mr. Haystoun had patronised, +"looking," said the fatuous cutting, "very brown and distinguished after +his experiences in the East."--"Whew!" said George. "Poor beggar, to +have such stuff written about him!"--The fourth discussed the possible +retirement of Sir Robert Merkland, the member for Gledsmuir, and his +possible successor. Mr. Haystoun's name was mentioned, "though +indeed," said the wiseacre, "that gentleman has never shown any decided +leanings to practical politics. We understand that the seat will be +contested in the Radical interest by Mr. Albert Stocks, the well-known +writer and lecturer." + +"You know everybody, John. Who's the fellow?" George asked. + +"Oh, a very able man indeed, one of the best speakers we have. I should +like to see a fight between him and Lewie: they would not get on with +each other. This Stocks is a sort of living embodiment of the irritable +Radical conscience, a very good thing in its way, but not quite in +Lewie's style." + +The fifth cutting mentioned the presence of Mr. Haystoun at three +garden-parties, and hinted the possibility of a mistress soon to be at +Etterick. + +George lay back in his chair gasping. "I never thought it would come to +this. I always thought Lewie the least impressionable of men. I wonder +what sort of woman he has fallen in love with. But it may not be true." + +"We'll pray that it isn't true. But I was never quite sure of him. You +know there was always an odd romantic strain in the man. The ordinary +smart, pretty girl, who adorns the end of a dinner-table and makes an +admirable mistress of a house, he would never think twice about. But +for all his sanity Lewie has many cranks, and a woman might get him on +that side." + +"Don't talk of it. I can picture the horrid reality. He will marry +some thin-lipped creature who will back him in all his madness, and his +friends will have to bid him a reluctant farewell. Or, worse still, +there are scores of gushing, sentimental girls who might capture him. I +wish old Wratislaw were here to ask him what he thinks, for he knows +Lewie better than any of us. Is he a member here?" + +"Oh yes, he is a member, but I don't think he comes much. You people +are too frivolous for him." + +"Well, that is all the good done by subscribing to a news-cutting agency +for news of one's friends. I feel as low as ditch water. There is that +idiot who goes off to the ends of the earth for three years, and when he +comes back his friends get no good of him for the confounded women." +George echoed the ancient complaint which is doubtless old as David and +Jonathan. + +Then these two desolated young men, in view of their friend's defection, +were full of sad memories, much as relations after a funeral hymn the +acts of the deceased. + +George lit a cigar and smoked it savagely. "So that is the end of +Lewis! And to think I knew the fool at school and college and couldn't +make a better job of him than this! Do you remember, John, how we used +to call him 'Vaulting Ambition,' because he won the high jump and was a +cocky beggar in general?" + +"And do you remember when he got his First, and they wanted him to stand +for a fellowship, but he was keen to get out of England and travel? Do +you remember that last night at Heston, when he told us all he was going +to do, and took a bet with Wratislaw about it?" + +It is probable that this sad elegy would have continued for hours, had +not a servant approached with letters, which he distributed, two to +Arthur Mordaunt and one to Mr. Winterham. A close observer might have +seen that two of the envelopes were identical. Arthur slipped one into +his pocket, but tore open the other and read. + +"It's from Lewie," he cried. "He wants me down there next week at +Etterick. He says he is all alone and crazy to see old friends again." + +"Mine's the same!" said George, after puzzling out Mr. Haystoun's by no +means legible writing. "I say, John, of course we'll go. It's the very +chance we were wishing for." + +Then he added with a cheerful face, "I begin to think better of human +nature. Here were we abusing the poor man as a defaulter, and ten +minutes after he heaps coals of fire on our heads. There can't be much +truth in what that newspaper says, or he wouldn't want his friends down +to spoil sport." + +"I wonder what he'll be like? Wratislaw saw him in town, but only for a +little, and he notices nothing. He's rather famous now, you know, and +we may expect to find him very dignified and wise. He'll be able to +teach us most things, and we'll have to listen with proper humility." + +"I'll give you fifty to one he's nothing of the kind," said George. "He +has his faults like us all, but they don't run in that line. No, no, +Lewie will be modest enough. He may have the pride of Lucifer at heart, +but he would never show it. His fault is just this infernal modesty, +which makes him shirk fighting some blatant ass or publishing his merits +to the world." + +Arthur looked curiously at his companion. Mr. Winterham was loved of +his friends as the best of good fellows, but to the staid and rising +politician he was not a person for serious talk. Hence, when he found +him saying very plainly what had for long been a suspicion of his own, +he was willing to credit him with a new acuteness. + +"You know I've always backed Lewie to romp home some day," went on the +young man. "He has got it in him to do most things, if he doesn't jib +and bolt altogether." + +"I don't see why you should talk of your friends as if they were +racehorses or prize dogs." + +"Well, there's a lot of truth in the metaphor. You know yourself what a +mess of it he might make. Say some good woman got hold of him--some +good woman, for we will put aside the horrible suggestion of the +adventuress. I suppose he'd be what you call a 'good husband.' He would +become a magistrate and a patron of local agricultural societies and +flower shows. And eveybody would talk about him as a great success in +life; but we--you and I and Tommy--who know him better, would feel that +it was all a ghastly failure." + +Mr. Lewis Haystoun's character erred in its simplicity, for it was at +the mercy of every friend for comment. + +"What makes you dread the women so?" asked Arthur with a smile. + +"I don't dread 'em. They are all that's good, and a great deal better +than most men. But then, you know, if you get a man really first-class +he's so much better than all but the very best women that you've got to +look after him. To ordinary beggars like myself it doesn't matter a +straw, but I won't have Lewie throwing himself away." + +"Then is the ancient race of the Haystouns to disappear from the earth?" + +"Oh, there are women fit for him, sure enough, but you won't find them +at every garden party. Why, to find the proper woman would be the +making of the man, and I should never have another doubt about him. But +I am afraid. He's a deal too kindly and good-natured, and he'd marry a +girl to-morrow merely to please her. And then some day quite casually +he would come across the woman who was meant by Providence for him, and +there would be the devil to pay and the ruin of one good man. I don't +mean that he'd make a fool of himself or anything of that sort, for he's +not a cad; but in the middle of his pleasant domesticity he would get a +glimpse of what he might have been, and those glimpses are not +forgotten." + +"Why, George, you are getting dithyrambic," said Arthur, still smiling, +but with a new vague respect in his heart. + +"For you cannot harness the wind or tie--tie the bonds of the wild ass," +said George, with an air of quotation. "At any rate, we're going to +look after him. He is a good chap and I've got to see him through." + +For Mr. Winterham, who was very much like other men, whose language was +free, and who respected few things indeed in the world, had unfailing +tenderness for two beings--his sister and his friend. + +The two young men rose, yawned, and strolled out into the hall. They +scanned carelessly the telegram boards. Arthur pointed a finger to a +message typed in a corner. + +"That will make a good deal of difference to Wratislaw." + +George read: "The death is announced, at his residence in Hampshire, of +Earl Beauregard. His lordship had reached the age of eighty-five, and +had been long in weak health. He is succeeded by his son the Right Hon. +Lord Malham, the present Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs." + +"It means that if Wratislaw's party get back with a majority after +August, and if Wratislaw gets the under-secretaryship as most people +expect, then, with his chief in the Lords, he will be rather an +important figure in the Commons." + +"And I suppose his work will be pretty lively," said George. He had +been reading some of the other telegrams, which were, as a rule, +hysterical messages by way of foreign capitals, telling of Russian +preparations in the East. + +"Oh, lively, yes. But I've confidence in Tommy. I wish the Fate which +decides men's politics had sent him to our side. He knows more about +the thing than any one else, and he knows his own mind, which is rare +enough. But it's too hot for serious talk. I suppose my seat is safe +enough in August, but I don't relish the prospect of a three weeks' +fight. Wratislaw, lucky man, will not be opposed. I suppose he'll come +up and help Lewis to make hay of Stock's chances. It's a confounded +shame. I shall go and talk for him." + +On the steps of the club both men halted, and looked up and down the +sultry white street. The bills of the evening papers were plastered in +a row on the pavement, and the glaring pink and green still further +increased the dazzle. After the cool darkness within each shaded his +eyes and blinked. + +"This settles it," said George. "I shall wire to Lewie to-night." + +"And I," said the other; "and to-morrow evening we'll be in that cool +green Paradise of a glen. Think of it! Meantime I shall grill through +another evening in the House, and pair." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PASTORAL + + +I + +A July morning had dawned over the Dreichill, and the glen was filled +with sunlight, though as yet there seemed no sun. Behind a peak of hill +it displayed its chastened morning splendours, but a stray affluence of +brightness had sought the nooks of valley in all the wide uplands, +courier of the great lord of heat and light and the brown summer. The +house of Etterick stands high in a crinkle of hill, with a background of +dark pines, and in front a lake, set in shores of rock and heather. +When the world grew bright Lewis awoke, for that strange young man had a +trick of rising early, and as he rubbed sleep from his eyes at the +window he saw the exceeding goodliness of the morning. He roused his +companions with awful threats, and then wandered along a corridor till +he came to a low verandah, whence a little pier ran into a sheltered bay +of the loch. This was his morning bathing-place, and as he ran down the +surface of rough moorland stone he heard steps behind him, and George +plunged into the cold blue waters scarcely a second after his host. + +It was as chill as winter save for the brightness of the morning, which +made the loch in open spaces a shining gold. As they raced each other +to the far end, now in the dark blue of shade, now in the gold of the +open, the hill breeze fanned their hair, and the great woody smell of +pines was sweet around them. The house stood dark and silent, for the +side before them was the men's quarters, and at that season given up to +themselves; but away beyond, the smoke of chimneys curled into the still +air. A man was mowing in some field on the hillside, and the cry of +sheep came from the valley. By and by they reached the shelving coast +of fine hill gravel, and as they turned to swim easily back a sleepy +figure staggered down the pier and stumbled rather than plunged into the +water. + +"Hullo!" gasped George, "there's old John. He'll drown, for I bet you +anything he isn't awake. Look!" + +But in a second a dark head appeared which shook itself vigorously, and +a figure made for the other two with great strokes. He was by so much +the best swimmer of the three that he had soon reached them, and though +in all honesty he first swam to the farther shore, yet he touched the +pier very little behind them. Then came a rush for the house, and in +half an hour three fresh-coloured young men came downstairs, whistling +for breakfast. + +The breakfast-room was a place to refresh a townsman's senses. Long and +cool and dark, it was simply Lewis's room, and he preferred to entertain +his friends there instead of wandering among unused dining-rooms. It +had windows at each end with old-fashioned folding sashes; and the view +on one side was to a great hill shoulder, fir-clad and deep in heather, +and on the other to the glen below and the shining links of the Avelin. +It was panelled in dark oak, and the furniture was a strange medley. +The deep arm-chairs by the fire and the many pipes savoured of the +smoking-room; the guns, rods, polo sticks, whips, which were stacked or +hung everywhere, and the heads of deer on the walls, gave it an +atmosphere of sport. The pictures were few but good--two water-colours, +a small Raeburn above the fireplace, and half a dozen fine etchings. In +a corner were many old school and college groups--the Eton Ramblers, the +O.U.A.C., some dining clubs, and one of Lewis on horseback in racing +costume, looking deeply miserable. Low bookcases of black oak ran round +the walls, and the shelves were crammed with books piled on one another, +many in white vellum bindings, which showed pleasantly against the dark +wood. Flowers were everywhere--common garden flowers of old-fashioned +kinds, for the owner hated exotics, and in a shallow silver bowl in the +midst of the snowy table-cloth was a great mass of purple heather-bells. + +Three very hungry young men sat down to their morning meal with a hearty +goodwill. The host began to rummage among his correspondence, and +finally extracted an unstamped note, which he opened. His face +brightened as he read, and he laid it down with a broad smile and helped +himself to fish. + +"Are you people very particular what you do to-day?" he asked. + +Arthur said, No. George explained that he was in the hands of his +beneficent friend. + +"Because my Aunt Egeria down at Glenavelin has got up some sort of a +picnic on the moors, and she wants us to meet her at the sheepfolds +about twelve." + +"Oh," said George meditatively. "Excellent! I shall be charmed." But +he looked significantly at Arthur, who returned the glance. + +"Who are at Glenavelin?" asked that simple young man with an air of +innocence. + +"There's a man called Stocks, whom you probably know." + +Arthur nodded. + +"And there's Bertha Afflint and her sister." + +It was George's turn to nod approvingly. The sharp-witted Miss Afflint +was a great ally of his. + +"And there's a Miss Wishart--Alice Wishart," said Lewis, without a word +of comment. "And with my Aunt Egeria that will be all." + +The pair got the cue, and resolved to subject the Miss Wishart whose +name came last on their host's tongue to a friendly criticism. +Meanwhile they held their peace on the matter like wise men. + +"What a strange name Egeria is!" said Arthur. "Very," said Lewis; "but +you know the story. My respectable aunt's father had a large family of +girls, and being of a classical turn of mind he called them after the +Muses. The Muses held out for nine, but for the tenth and youngest he +found himself in a difficulty. So he tried another tack and called the +child after the nymph Egeria. It sounds outlandish, but I prefer it to +Terpsichore." + +Thereafter they lit pipes, and, with the gravity which is due to a great +subject, inspected their friend's rods and guns. + +"I see no memorials of your travels, Lewie," said Arthur. "You must +have brought back no end of things, and most people like to stick them +round as a remembrance." + +"I have got a roomful if you want to see them," said the traveller; "but +I don't see the point of spoiling a moorland place with foreign odds and +ends. I like homely and native things about me when I am in Scotland." + +"You're a sentimentalist, old man," said his friend; and George, who +heard only the last word, assumed that Arthur had then and there +divulged his suspicions, and favoured that gentleman with a wild frown +of disapproval. + +As Lewis sat on the edge of the Etterick burn and looked over the +shining spaces of morning, forgetful of his friends, forgetful of his +past, his mind was full of a new turmoil of feeling. Alice Wishart had +begun to claim a surprising portion of his thoughts. He told himself a +thousand times that he was not in love--that he should never be in love, +being destined for other things; that he liked the girl as he liked any +fresh young creature in the morning of life, with youth's beauty and the +grace of innocence. But insensibly his everyday reflections began to be +coloured by her presence. "What would she think of this?" "How that +would please her!" were sentences spoken often by the tongue of his +fancy. He found charm in her presence after his bachelor solitude; her +demure gravity pleased him; but that he should be led bond-slave by +love--that was a matter he valiantly denied. + + +II + +The sheepfolds of Etterick lie in a little fold of glen some two miles +from the dwelling, where the heathy tableland, known all over the glen +as "The Muirs," relieves the monotony of precipitous hills. On this day +it was alert with life. The little paddock was crammed with sheep, and +more stood huddling in the pens. Within was the liveliest scene, for +there a dozen herds sat on clipping-stools each with a struggling ewe +between his knees, and the ground beneath him strewn with creamy folds +of fleece. From a thing like a gallows in a corner huge bags were +suspended which were slowly filling. A cauldron of pitch bubbled over a +fire, and the smoke rose blue in the hot hill air. Every minute a +bashful animal was led to be branded with a great E on the left shoulder +and then with awkward stumbling let loose to join her naked +fellow-sufferers. Dogs slept in the sun and wagged their tails in the +rear of the paddock. Small children sat on gates and lent willing feet +to drive the flocks. In a corner below a little shed was the clippers' +meal of ale and pies, with two glasses of whisky each, laid by under a +white cloth. Meantime from all sides rose the continual crying of +sheep, the intermittent bark of dogs, and the loud broad converse of the +men. + +Lewis and his friends jumped a fence, and were greeted heartily in the +enclosure. He seemed to know each herd by name or rather nickname, for +he had a word for all, and they with all freedom grinned _badinage_ back. + +"Where's my stool, Yed?" he cried. "Am I not to have a hand in clipping +my own sheep?" + +An obedient shepherd rose and fetched one of the triangular seats, while +Lewis with great ease caught the ewe, pulled her on her back, and +proceeded to call for shears. An old pair was found for him, and with +much dexterity he performed the clipping, taking little longer to the +business than the expert herd, and giving the shears a professional wipe +on the sacking with which he had prudently defended his clothes. + +From somewhere in the back two boys came forward--the Tam and Jock of a +former day--eager to claim acquaintance. Jock was clearly busy, for his +jacket was off and a very ragged shirt was rolled about two stout brown +arms. The "human collie" seemed to be a gentleman of some leisure, for +he was arrayed in what was for him the pink of fashion in dress. The +two immediately lay down on the ground beside Lewis exactly in the +manner of faithful dogs. + +The men talked cheerfully, mainly on sheep and prices. Now talk would +touch on neighbours, and there would be the repetition of some tale or +saying. "There was a man in the glen called Rorison. D'ye mind Jock +Rorison, Sandy?" And Sandy would reply, "Fine I mind Jock," and then +both would proceed to confidences. + +"Hullo, Tam," said Lewis at last, realizing his henchman's grandeur. "Why +this magnificence of dress? + +"I'm gaun to the Sabbath-school treat this afternoon," said that worthy. + +"And you, Jock-are you going too?" + +"No me! I'm ower auld, and besides, I've cast out wi' the minister." + +"How was that?" + +"Oh, I had been fechtin'," said Jock airily. "It was Andra Laidlaw. He +called me ill names, so I yokit on him and bate him too, but I got my +face gey sair bashed. The minister met me next day when I was a' blue +and yellow, and, says he, 'John Laverlaw, what have ye been daein'? +Ye're a bonny sicht for Christian een. How do ye think a face like +yours will look between a pair o' wings in the next warld?' I ken I'm no +bonny," added the explanatory Jock; "but ye canna expect a man to thole +siccan language as that." + +Lewis laughed and, being engaged in clipping his third sheep, forgot the +delicacy of his task and let the shears slip. A very ugly little cut on +the animal's neck was the result. + +"Oh, confound it!" cried the penitent amateur. "Look what I've done, +Yed. I'll have to rub in some of that stuff of yours and sew on a +bandage. The files will kill the poor thing if we leave the cut bare in +this infernal heat." + +The old shepherd nodded, and pointed to where the remedies were kept. +Jock went for the box, which contained, besides the ointment, some rolls +of stout linen and a huge needle and twine. Lewis doctored the wound as +best he could, and then proceeded to lay on the cloth and sew it to the +fleece. The ewe grew restless with the heat and the pinching of the +cut, and Jock was given the task of holding her head. + +Clearly Lewis was not meant by Providence for a tailor. He made +lamentable work with the needle. It slipped and pricked his fingers, +while his unfeeling friends jeered and Tam turned great eyes of sympathy +upwards from his Sunday garments. + +"Patience, patience, man!" said the old herd. "Ca' cannier and be a wee +thing quieter in your langwidge. There's a wheen leddies comin' up the +burn." + +It was too late. Before Lewis understood the purport of the speech Lady +Manorwater and her party were at the folds, and as he made one final +effort with the refractory needle a voice in his ear said: + +"Please let me do that, Mr. Haystoun. I've often done it before." + +He looked up and met Alice Wishart's laughing eyes. She stood beside +him and deftly finished the bandage till the ewe was turned off the +stool. Then, very warm and red, he turned to find a cool figure +laughing at his condition. + +"I'll have to go and wash my hands, Miss Wishart," he said gravely. +"You had better come too." And the pair ran down to a deep brown pool in +the burn and cleansed from their fingers the subtle aroma of fleeces. + +"Ugh! my clothes smell like a drover's. That's the worst of being a +dabbler in most trades. You can never resist the temptation to try your +hand." + +"But, really, your whole manner was most professional, Mr. Haystoun. +Your language--" + +"Please, don't," said the penitent; and they returned to the others to +find that once cheerful assembly under a cloud. Every several man there +was nervously afraid of women and worked feverishly as if under some +great Taskmistress's eye. The result was a superfluity of shear-marks +and deep, muffled profanity. Lady Manorwater ran here and there asking +questions and confusing the workers; while Mr. Stocks, in pursuance of +his democratic sentiments, talked in a stilted fashion to the nearest +clipper, who called him "Sir" and seemed vastly ill at ease. + +Lewis restored some cordiality. Under her nephew's influence Lady +Manorwater became natural and pleasing. Jock was ferreted out of some +corner and, together with the reluctant Tam, brought up for +presentation. + +"Tam," said his patron, "I'll give you your choice. Whether will you go +to the Sabbath-school treat, or come with us to a real picnic? Jock is +coming, and I promise you better fun and better things to eat." + +It was no case for hesitation. Tam executed a doglike gambol on the +turf, and proceeded to course up the burn ahead of the party, a vision +of twinkling bare legs and ill-fitting Sunday clothes. The sedate Jock +rolled down his sleeves, rescued a ragged jacket, and stalked in the +rear. + + +III + +Once on the heathy plateau the party scattered. Mr. Stocks caught the +unwilling Arthur and treated him to a disquisition on the +characteristics of the people whose votes he was soon to solicit. As +his acquaintance with the subject was not phenomenal, the profit to the +aggrieved listener was small. George, Lady Manorwater, and the two Miss +Afflints sought diligently for a camping-ground, which they finally +found by a clear spring of water on the skirts of a great grey rock. +Meanwhile, Alice Wishart and Lewis, having an inordinate love of high +places, set out for the ridge summit, and reached it to find a wind +blowing from the far Gled valley and cooling the hot air. + +Alice found a scrap of rock and climbed to the summit, where she sat +like a small pixie, surveying a wide landscape and her warm and +prostrate companion. Her bright hair and eyes and her entrancing grace +of form made the callous Lewis steal many glances upwards from his lowly +seat. The two had become excellent friends, for the man had that honest +simplicity towards women which is the worst basis for love and the best +for friendship. She felt that at any moment he might call her by some +one or other of the endearing expressions used between men. He, for his +part, was fast drifting from friendship to another feeling, but as yet +he gave no sign of it, and kept up the brusque, kindly manners of his +common life. + +As she looked east and north to the heart of the hill-land, her eyes +brightened, and she rose up and strained on tiptoe to scan the farthest +horizon. Eagerly she asked the name of this giant and that, of this +glint of water--was it loch or burn? Lewis answered without hesitation, +as one to whom the country was as well known as his own name. + +By and by her curiosity was satisfied and she slipped back into her old +posture, and with chin on hand gazed into the remote distances. "And +most of that is yours? Do you know, if I had a land like this I should +never leave it again. You, in your ingratitude, will go wandering away +in a year or two, as if any place on earth could be better than this. +You are simply 'sinning away your mercies,' as my grandfather used to +say." + +"But what would become of the heroic virtues that you adore?" asked the +cynical Lewis. "If men were all home-keepers it would be a prosaic +world." + +"Can you talk of the prosaic and Etterick in the same breath? Besides, +it is the old fallacy of man that the domestic excludes the heroic," +said Alice, fighting for the privileges of her sex. + +"But then, you know, there comes a thing they call the go-fever, which +is not amenable to reason. People who have it badly do not care a straw +for a place in itself; all they want is to be eternally moving from one +spot to another." + +"And you?" + +"Oh, I am not a sufferer yet, but I walk in fear, for at any moment it +may beset me." And, laughing, he climbed up beside her. + +It may be true that the last subject of which a man tires is himself, +but Lewis Haystoun in this matter must have been distinct from the +common run of men. Alice had given him excellent opportunities for +egotism, but the blind young man had not taken them. The girl, having +been brought up to a very simple and natural conception of talk, thought +no more about it, except that she would have liked so great a traveller +to speak more generously. No doubt, after all, this reticence was +preferable to self-revelation. Mr. Stocks had been her companion that +morning in the drive to Etterick, and he had entertained her with a +sketch of his future. He had declined, somewhat nervously, to talk of +his early life, though the girl, with her innate love of a fighter, +would have listened with pleasure. But he had sketched his political +creed, hinted at the puissance of his friends, claimed a monopoly of the +purer sentiments of life, and rosily augured the future. The girl had +been silent--the man had thought her deeply impressed; but now the +morning's talk seemed to point a contrast, and Mr. Lewis Haystoun +climbed to a higher niche in the temple of her esteem. + +Afar off the others were signaling that lunch was ready, but the two on +the rock were blind. + +"I think you are right to go away," said Alice. "You would be too well +off here. One would become a very idle sort of being almost at once." + +"And I am glad you agree with me, Miss Wishart. 'Here is the shore, and +the far wide world's before me,' as the song says. There is little +doing in these uplands, but there's a vast deal astir up and down the +earth, and it would be a pity not to have a hand in it." + +Then he stopped suddenly, for at that moment the light and colour went +out of his picture of the wanderer's life, and he saw instead a homelier +scene--a dainty figure moving about the house, sitting at his table's +head, growing old with him in the fellowship of years. For a moment he +felt the charm of the red hearth and the quiet life. Some such sketch +must the Goddess of Home have drawn for Ulysses or the wandering Olaf, +and if Swanhild or the true Penelope were as pretty as this lady of the +rock there was credit in the renunciation. The man forgot the wide +world and thought only of the pin-point of Glenavelin. + +Some such fancy too may have crossed the girl's mind. At any rate she +cast one glance at the abstracted Lewis and welcomed a courier from the +rest of the party. This was no other than the dandified Tam, who had +been sent post-haste by George--that true friend having suffered the +agonies of starvation and a terrible suspicion as to what rash step his +host might be taking. Plainly the young man had not yet made Miss +Wishart's acquaintance. + + +IV + +The sun set in the thick of the dark hills, and a tired and merry party +scrambled down the burnside to the highway. They had long outstayed +their intention, but care sat lightly there, and Lady Manorwater alone +was vexed by thoughts of a dinner untouched and a respectable household +in confusion. The sweet-scented dusk was soothing to the senses, and +there in the narrow glen, with the wide blue strath and the gleam of the +river below, it was hard to find the link of reality and easy to credit +fairyland. Arthur and Miss Wishart had gone on in front and were now +strayed among boulders. She liked this trim and precise young man, +whose courtesy was so grave and elaborate, while he, being a recluse by +nature but a humanitarian by profession, was half nervous and half +entranced in her cheerful society. They talked of nothing, their hearts +being set on the scramble, and when at last they reached the highway and +the farm where the Glenavelin traps had been put up, they found +themselves a clear ten minutes in advance of the others. + +As they sat on the dyke in the soft cool air Alice spoke casually of the +place. "Where is Etterick?" she asked; and a light on a hillside +farther up the glen was pointed out to her. + +"It's a very fresh and pleasant place to stay at," said Arthur. "We're +much higher than you are at Glenavelin, and the house is bigger and +older. But we simply camp in a corner of it. You can never get Lewie +to live like other people. He is the best of men, but his tastes are +primeval. He makes us plunge off a verandah into a loch first thing in +the morning, you know, and I shall certainly drown some day, for I am +never more than half awake, and I always seem to go straight to the +bottom. Then he is crazy about long expeditions, and when the Twelfth +comes we shall never be off the hill. He is a long way too active for +these slack modern days." + +Lewie, Lewie! It was Lewie everywhere! thought the girl. What could +become of a man who was so hedged about by admirers? He had seemed to +court her presence, and her heart had begun to beat faster of late when +she saw his face. She dared not confess to herself that she was in +love--that she wanted this Lewis to herself, and bated the pretensions of +his friends. Instead she flattered herself with a fiction. Her ground +was the high one of an interest in character. She liked the young man +and was sorry to see him in a way to be spoiled by too much admiration. +And the angel who records our innermost thoughts smiled to himself, if +such grave beings can smile. + +Meantime Lewis was delivered bound and captive to the enemy. All down +the burn his companion had been Mr. Stocks, and they had lagged behind +the others. That gentleman had not enjoyed the day; he had been bored +by the landscape and scorched by the sun; also, as the time of contest +approached, he was full of political talk, and he had found no ears to +appreciate it. Now he had seized on Lewis, and the younger man had lent +him polite attention though inwardly full of ravening and bitterness. + +"Your friend Mr. Mordaunt has promised to support my candidature. You, +of course, will be in the opposite camp." + +Lewis said he did not think so--that he had lost interest in party +politics, and would lie low. + +Mr. Stocks bowed in acquiescence. + +"And what do you think of my chances?" + +Lewis replied that he should think about equal betting. "You see the +place is Radical in the main, with the mills at Gledfoot and the weavers +at Gledsmuir. Up in Glenavelin they are more or less Conservative. +Merkland gets in usually by a small majority because he is a local man +and has a good deal of property down the Gled. If two strangers fought +it the Radical would win; as it is it is pretty much of a toss-up either +way." + +"But if Sir Robert resigns?" + +"Oh, that scare has been raised every time by the other party. I should +say that there's no doubt that the old man will keep on for years." + +Mr. Stocks looked relieved. "I heard of his resignation as a +certainty, and I was afraid that a stronger man might take his place." + +So it fell out that the day which began with pastoral closed, like many +another day, with politics. Since Lewis refrained from controversy, Mr. +Stocks seemed to look upon him as a Gallio from whom no danger need be +feared, nay, even as a convert to be fostered. He became confident and +talked jocularly of the tricks of his trade. Lewis's boredom was +complete by the time they reached the farmhouse and found the Glenavelin +party ready to start. + +"We want to see Etterick, so we shall come to lunch to-morrow, Lewie," +said his aunt. "So be prepared, my dear, and be on your best +behaviour." + +Then, with his two friends, he turned towards the lights of his home. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE + + +The day before the events just recorded two men had entered the door of +a certain London club and made their way to a remote little smoking-room +on the first floor. It was not a handsome building, nor had it any +particular outlook or position. It was a small, old-fashioned place in +a side street, in style obviously of last century, and the fittings +within were far from magnificent. Yet no club carried more distinction +in its membership. Its hundred possible inmates were the cream of the +higher professions, the chef and the cellar were things to wonder at, +and the man who could write himself a member of the Rota Club had +obtained one of the rare social honours which men confer on one another. +Thither came all manner of people--the distinguished foreigner travelling +incognito, and eager to talk with some Minister unofficially on matters +of import, the diplomat on a secret errand, the traveller home for a +brief season, the soldier, the thinker, the lawyer. It was a catholic +assembly, but exclusive--very. Each man bore the stamp of competence on +his face, and there was no cheap talk of the "well-informed" variety. +When the members spoke seriously they spoke like experts; otherwise they +were apt to joke very much like schoolboys let loose. The Right Hon. +Mr. M---- was not above twitting Lord S---- with gunroom stories, and +suffering in turn good-natured libel. + +Of the two men lighting their pipes in the little room one was to the +first glance a remarkable figure. About the middle height, with a +square head and magnificent shoulders, he looked from the back not +unlike some professional strong man. But his face betrayed him, for it +was clearly the face of the intellectual worker, the man of character +and mind. His jaw was massive and broad, saved from hardness only by a +quaintly humorous mouth; he had, too, a pair of very sharp blue eyes +looking from under shaggy eyebrows. His age was scarcely beyond thirty, +but one would have put it ten years later, for there were lines on his +brow and threads of grey in his hair. His companion was slim and, to a +hasty glance, insignificant. He wore a peaked grey beard which +lengthened his long, thin face, and he had a nervous trick of drumming +always with his fingers on whatever piece of furniture was near. But if +you looked closer and marked the high brow, the keen eyes, and the very +resolute mouth, the thought of insignificance disappeared. He looked +not unlike a fighting Yankee colonel who had had a Puritan upbringing, +and the impression was aided by his simplicity in dress. He was, in +fact, a very great man, the Foreign Secretary of the time, formerly +known to fame as Lord Malham, and at the moment, by his father's death, +Lord Beauregard, and, for his sins, an exile to the Upper House. His +companion, whose name was Wratislaw, was a younger Member of Parliament +who was credited with peculiar knowledge and insight on the matters +which formed his lordship's province. They were close friends and +allies of some years' standing, and colloquies between the two in this +very place were not unknown to the club annals. + +Lord Beauregard looked at his companion's anxious face. "Do you know +the news?" he said. + +"What news?" asked Wratislaw. "That your family position is changed, or +that the dissolution will be a week earlier, or that Marka is busy +again?" + +"I mean the last. How did you know? Did you see the telegrams?" + +"No, I saw it in the papers." + +"Good Heavens!" said the great man. "Let me see the thing," and he +snatched a newspaper cutting from Wratislaw's hand, returning it the +next moment with a laugh. It ran thus: "Telegrams from the Punjab +declare that an expedition, the personnel of which is not yet revealed, +is about to start for the town of Bardur in N. Kashmir, to penetrate the +wastes beyond the frontier. It is rumoured that the expedition has a +semi-official character." + +"That's our friend," said Wratislaw, putting the paper into his pocket. + +Lord Beauregard wrinkled his brow and stared at the bowl of his pipe. +"I see the motive clearly, but I am hanged if I understand why an +evening paper should print it. Who in this country knows of the +existence of Bardur?" + +"Many people since Haystoun's book," said the other. + +"I have just glanced at it. Is there anything important in it?" + +"Nothing that we did not know before. But things are put in a fresh +light. He covered ground himself of which we had only a second-hand +account." + +"And he talks of this Bardur?" + +"A good deal. He is an expert in his way on the matter and uncommonly +clever. He kept the best things out of the book, and it would be worth +your while meeting him. Do you happen to know him?" + +"No--o," said the great man doubtfully. "Oh, stop a moment. I have +heard my young brother talk of somebody of the same name. Rather a +figure at Oxford, wasn't he?" + +Wratislaw nodded. "But to talk of Marka," he added. + +"His mission is, of course, official, and he has abundant resources." + +"So much I gathered," said Wratislaw. "But his designs? + +"He knows the tribes in the North better than any living man, but +without a base at hand he is comparatively harmless. The devil in the +thing is that we do not know how close that base may be. Fifty thousand +men may be massed within fifty miles, and we are in ignorance." + +"It is the lack of a secret service," said the other. "Had we that, +there are a hundred young men who would have risked their necks there +and kept us abreast of our enemies. As it is, we have to wait till news +comes by some roundabout channel, while that cheerful being, Marka, +keeps the public easy by news of hypothetical private expeditious." + +"And meantime there is that thousand-mile piece of desert of which we +know nothing, and where our friends may be playing pranks as they +please. Well, well, we must wait on developments. It is the last +refuge of the ill-informed. What about the dissolution? You are safe, +I suppose?" + +Wratislaw nodded. + +"I have been asked my forecast fifty times to-day, and I steadily refuse +to speak. But I may as well give it to you. We shall come back with a +majority of from fifty to eighty, and you, my dear fellow, will not be +forgotten." + +"You mean the Under-Secretaryship," said the other. "Well, I don't mind +it." + +"I should think not. Why, you will get that chance your friends have +hoped so long for, and then it is only a matter of time till you climb +the last steps. You are a youngish man for a Minister, for all your +elderly manners." + +Wratislaw smiled the pleased smile of the man who hears kind words from +one whom he admires. "It won't be a bed of roses, you know. I am very +unpopular, and I have the grace to know it." + +The elder man looked on the younger with an air of kindly wisdom. "Your +pride may have a fall, my dear fellow. You are young and confident, I +am old and humble. Some day you will be glad to hope that you are not +without this despised popularity." + +Wratislaw looked grave. "God forbid that I should despise it. When it +comes my way I shall think that my work is done, and rest in peace. But +you and I are not the sort of people who can court it with comfort. We +are old sticks and very full of angles, but it would be a pity to rub +them off if the shape were to be spoiled." + +Lord Beauregard nodded. "Tell me more about your friend Haystoun." + +Wratislaw's face relaxed, and he became communicative. + +"He is a Scots laird, rather well off, and, as I have said, uncommonly +clever. He lives at a place called Etterick in the Gled valley." + +"I saw Merkland to-day, and he spoke his farewell to politics. The +Whips told me about it yesterday." + +"Merkland! But he always raised that scare!" + +"He is serious this time. He has sold his town house." + +"Then that settles it. Lewis shall stand in his place." + +"Good," said the great man. "We want experts. He would strengthen your +feeble hands and confirm your tottering knees, Tommy." + +"If he gets in; but he will have a fight for it. Our dear friend Albert +Stocks has been nursing the seat, and the Manorwaters and scores of +Lewie's friends will help him. That young man has a knack of confining +his affections to members of the opposite party." + +"What was Merkland's majority? Two-fifty or something like that?" + +"There or about. But he was an old and well-liked country laird, +whereas Lewie is a very young gentleman with nothing to his credit +except an Oxford reputation and a book of travels, neither of which will +appeal to the Gledsmuir weavers." + +"But he is popular?" + +"Where he is known--adored. But his name does not carry confidence to +those who do not know the man, for his family were weak-kneed gentry." + +"Yes, I knew his father. Able, but crotchety and impossible! Tommy, +this young man must get the seat, for we cannot afford to throw away a +single chance. You say he knows the place," and he jerked his head to +indicate that East to which his thoughts were ever turning. "Some time +in the next two years there will be the devil's own mess in that happy +land. Then your troubles will begin, my friend, and I can wish nothing +better for you than the support of some man in the Commons who knows +that Bardur is not quite so pastoral as Hampshire. He may relieve you +of some of the popular odium you are courting, and at the worst he can +be sent out." + +Wratislaw whistled long and low. "I think not," he said. "He is too +good to throw away. But he must get in, and as there is nothing in the +world for me to do I shall go up to Etterick tomorrow and talk to him. +He will do as I tell him, and we can put our back into the fight. +Besides, I want to see Stocks again. That man is the joy of my heart!" + +"Lucky beggar!" said the Minister. "Oh, go by all means and enjoy +yourself, while I swelter here for another three weeks over meaningless +telegrams enlivened by the idiot diplomatist. Good-bye and good luck, +and bring the young man to a sense of his own value." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MR. WRATISLAW'S ADVENT + + +As the three men went home in the dusk they talked of the day. Lewis +had been in a bad humour, but the company of his friends exorcised the +imp of irritation, and he felt only the mellow gloom of the evening and +the sweet scents of the moor. In such weather he had a trick of walking +with his head high and his nostrils wide, sniffing the air like the wild +ass of the desert with which the metaphorical George had erstwhile +compared him. That young man meanwhile was occupied with his own +reflections. His good nature had been victimized, he had been made to +fetch and carry continually, and the result was that he had scarcely +spoken a word to Miss Wishart. His plans thus early foiled, nothing +remained but to draw the more fortunate Arthur, so in a conspirator's +aside he asked him his verdict. But Arthur refused to speak. "She is +pretty and clever," he said, "and excellent company." And with this his +lips were sealed, and his thoughts went off on his own concerns. + +Lewis heard and smiled. The sun and wind of the hills beat in his +pulses like wine. To have breathed all day the fragrance of heather and +pines, to have gladdened the eye with an infinite distance and blue +lines of mountain, was with this man to have drunk the cup of +intoxicating youth. The cool gloaming did not chill; rather it was the +high and solemn aftermath of the day's harvesting. The faces of +gracious women seemed blent with the pageant of summer weather; kindly +voices, simple joys--for a moment they seemed to him the major matters in +life. So far it was pleasing fancy, but Alice soon entered to disturb +with the disquieting glory of her hair. The family of the Haystouns had +ever a knack of fine sentiment. Fantastic, unpractical, they were +gluttons for the romantic, the recondite, and the dainty. But now had +come a breath of strong wind which rent the meshes of a philandering +fancy. A very new and strange feeling was beginning to make itself +known. He had come to think of Alice with the hot pained affection +which makes the high mountains of the world sink for the time to a +species of mole-hillock. She danced through his dreams and usurped all +the paths of his ambition. Formerly he had thought of himself--for the +man was given to self-portraiture--as the adventurer, the scorner of the +domestic; now he struggled to regain the old attitude, but he struggled +in vain. The ways were blocked, a slim figure was ever in view, and lo! +when he blotted it from his sight the world was dark and the roads +blind. For a moment he had lost his bearings on the sea of life. As +yet the discomfiture was sweet, his confusion was a joy; and it is the +first trace of weakness which we have seen in the man that he accepted +the unsatisfactory with composure. + +At the door of Etterick it became apparent that something was astir. +Wheel-marks were clear in the gravel, and the ancient butler had an air +of ceremony. "Mr. Wratislaw has arrived, sir," he whispered to Lewis, +whereat that young man's face shone. + +"When? How? Where is he now?" he cried, and with a word to his +companions he had crossed the hall, raced down a lengthy passage, and +flung open the door of his sanctum. There, sure enough, were the broad +shoulders of Wratislaw bending among the books. + +"Lord bless me, Tommy, what extraordinary surprise visit is this? I +thought you would be over your ears in work. We are tremendously +pleased to see you." + +The sharp blue eyes had been scanning the other's frank sunburnt face +with an air of affectionate consideration. "I got off somehow or other, +as I had to see you, old man, so I thought I would try this place first. +What a fortressed wilderness you live in! I got out at Gledsmuir after +travelling some dreary miles in a train which stopped at every farm, and +then I had to wait an hour till the solitary dogcart of the inn +returned. Hullo! you've got other visitors." And he stretched out a +massive hand to Arthur and George. + +The sight of him had lifted a load from these gentlemen's hearts. The +old watchdog had come; the little terriers might now take holiday. The +task of being Lewis's keeper did not by right belong to them; they were +only amateurs acting in the absence of the properly qualified Wratislaw. +Besides, it had been anxious work, for while each had sworn to himself +aforetime to protect his friend from the wiles of Miss Wishart, both +were now devoted slaves drawn at that young woman's chariot wheel. You +will perceive that it is a delicate matter to wage war with a goddess, +and a task unblest of Heaven. + +Supper was brought, and the lamps lit in the cool old room, where, +through the open window, they could still catch the glint of foam on the +stream and the dark gloom of pines on the hill. They fell ravenously on +the meal, for one man had eaten nothing since midday and the others were +fresh from moorland air. Thereafter they pulled armchairs to a window, +and lit the pipes of contentment. Wratislaw stretched his arms on the +sill and looked out into the fragrant darkness. + +"Any news, Tommy?" asked his host. "Things seem lively in the East." + +"Very, but I am ill-informed. Did you lay no private lines of +communication in your travels?" + +"They were too short. I picked up a lot of out-of-the-way hints, but as +I am not a diplomatist I cannot use them. I think I have already made +you a present of most. By the by, I see from the papers that an +official expedition is going north from Bardur. What idiot invented +that?" + +Wratislaw pulled his head in and sat back in his chair. "You are sure +you don't happen to know?" + +"Sure. But it is just the sort of canard which the gentry on the other +side of the frontier would invent to keep things quiet. Who are the +Englishmen at Bardur now?" + +The elder man looked shrewdly at the younger, who was carelessly pulling +a flower to pieces. "There's Logan, whom you know, and Thwaite and +Gribton." + +"Good men all, but slow in the uptake. Logan is a jewel. He gave me +the best three days' shooting I ever dreamed of, and he has more stories +in his head than George. But if matters got into a tangle I would +rather not be in his company. Thwaite is a gentlemanlike sort of +fellow, but dull--very, while Gribton is the ordinary shrewd commercial +man, very cautious and rather timid." + +"Did you ever happen to hear of a man called Marka? He might call +himself Constantine Marka, or Arthur Marker, or the Baron Mark--whatever +happened to suit him." + +Lewis puzzled for a little. "Yes, of course I did. By George! I +should think so. It was a chap of that name who had gone north the week +before I arrived. They said he would never be heard of again. He +seemed a reckless sort of fool." + +"You didn't see him?" + +"No. But why?" + +"Simply that you came within a week of meeting one of the cleverest men +living, a cheerful being whom the Foreign Office is more interested in +than any one else in the world. If you should hear again of Constantine +Marka, Marker, or Mark, please note it down." + +"You mean that he is the author of the _canard_," said Lewis, with sharp +eyes, taking up a newspaper. + +"Yes, and many more. This graceful person will complicate things for +me, for I am to represent the Office in the Commons if we get back with +a decent majority." + +Lewis held out a cordial hand. "I congratulate you, Tommy. Now +beginneth the end, and may I be spared to see!" + +"I hope you may, and it's on this I want to talk to you. Merkland has +resigned; it will be in the papers to-morrow. I got it kept out till I +could see you!" + +"Yes?" said Lewis, with quickening interest. + +"And we want you to take his place. I spoke to him, and he is +enthusiastic on the matter. I wired to the Conservative Club at +Gledsmuir, and it seems you are their most cherished possibility. The +leaders of the party are more than willing, so it only remains for you +to consent, my dear boy." + +"I--don't--think--I--can," said the possibility slowly. "You see, only +to-day I told that man Stocks that Merkland would not resign, and that I +was sick of party politics and would not interfere with his chances. +The poor beggar is desperately keen, and if I stood now he would think +me disingenuous." + +"But there is no reason why he should not know the truth. You can tell +him that you only heard about Merkland to-night, and that you act only +in deference to strong external pressure." + +"In that case he would think me a fool. I have a bad enough reputation +for lack of seriousness in these matters already. The man is not very +particular, and there is nothing to hinder him from blazoning it up and +down the place that I changed my mind in ten minutes on a friend's +recommendation. I should get a very complete licking." + +"Do you mind, Lewie, if I advise you to take it seriously? It is really +not a case for little scruples about reputation. There are rocks ahead +of me, and I want a man like you in the House more than I could make you +understand. You say you hate party politics, and I am with you, but +there is no reason why you should not use them as a crutch to better +work. You are in your way an expert, and that is what we will need +above all things in the next few years. Of course, if you feel yourself +bound by a promise not to oppose Stocks, then I have nothing more to +say; but, unless the man is a lunatic, he will admit the justice of your +case." + +"You mean that you really want me, Tommy?" said the young man, in great +doubt. "I hate the idea of fighting Stocks, and I shall most certainly +be beaten." + +"That is on the knees of the gods, and as for the rest I take the +responsibility. I shall speak to Stocks myself. It will be a sharp +fight, but I see no reason why you should not win. After all, it is +your own countryside, and you are a better man than your opponent." + +"You are the serpent who has broken up this peaceful home. I shall be +miserable for a month, and the house will be divided against itself. +Arthur has promised to help Stocks, while the Manorwaters, root and +branch, are pledged to support him." + +"I'll do my best, Lewie, for old acquaintance' sake. It had to come +sooner or later, you know, and it is as well that you should seize the +favourable moment. Now let us drop the subject for to-night. I want to +enjoy myself." + +And he rose, stretched his great arms, and wandered about the room. + +To all appearance he had forgotten the very existence of things +political. Arthur, who had a contest to face shortly, was eager for +advice and the odds and ends of information which defend the joints in a +candidate's harness, but the well-informed man disdained to help. He +tested the guns, gave his verdict on rods, and ranged through a cabinet +of sporting requisites. Then he fell on his host's books, and for an +hour the three were content to listen to him. It was rarely that +Wratislaw fell into such moods, but when the chance came it was not to +be lightly disregarded. A laborious youth had given him great stores of +scholarship, and Lewis's books were a curious if chaotic collection. On +the fly-leaf of a little duodecimo was an inscription from the author of +Waverley, who had often made Etterick his hunting-ground. A Dunbar had +Hawthornden's autograph, and a set of tall classic folios bore the +handwriting of George Buchanan. Lord Kames, Hume, and a score of others +had dedicated works to lairds of Etterick, and the Haystouns themselves +had deigned at times to court the Muse. Lewis's own special +books--college prizes, a few modern authors, some well-thumbed poets, and +a row in half a dozen languages on some matters of diplomatic +interest--were crowded into a little oak bookcase which had once graced +his college rooms. Thither Wratislaw ultimately turned, dipping, +browsing, reading a score of lines. + +"What a nice taste you have in arrangement!" he cried. "Scott, Tolstoi, +Meredith, an odd volume of a Saga library, an odd volume of the _Corpus +Boreale_, some Irish reprints, Stevenson's poems, Virgil and the +_Pilgrim's Progress_, and a French Gazetteer of Mountains wedged above +them. And then an odd Badminton volume, French _Memoires_, a Dante, a +Homer, and a badly printed German text of Schopenhauer! Three different +copies of Rabelais, a De Thou, a Horace, and-bless my soul!--about +twenty books of fairy tales! Lewie, you must have a mind like a +lumber-room." + +"I pillaged books from the big library as I wanted them," said the young +man humbly. "Do you know, Tommy, to talk quite seriously, I get more +erratic every day? Knocking about the world and living alone make me a +queer slave of whims. I am straying too far from the normal. I wish to +goodness you would take me and drive me back to the ways of common +sense." + +"Meaning--? + +"That I am getting cranky and diffident. I am beginning to get nervous +about people's opinion and sensitive to my own eccentricity. It is a +sad case for a man who never used to care a straw for a soul on earth." + +"Lewie, attend to me," said Wratislaw, with mock gravity. "You have not +by any chance been falling in love?" + +The accused blushed like a girl, and lied withal like a trooper, to the +delight of the un-Christian George. + +"Well, then, my dear fellow, there is hope for you yet. If a man once +gets sentimental, he desires to be normal above all things, for he has a +crazy intuition that it is the normal which women really like, being +themselves but a hair's-breadth from the commonplace. I suppose it is +only another of the immortal errors with which mankind hedges itself +about." + +"You think it an error?" said Lewis, with such an air of relief that +George began to laugh and Wratislaw looked comically suspicious. + +"Why the tone of joy, Lewie?" + +"I wanted your opinion," said the perjured young man. "I thought of +writing a book. But that is not the thing I was talking about. I want +to be normal, aggressively normal, to court the suffrages of Gledsmuir. +Do you know Stocks?" + +"Surely." + +"An excellent person, but I never heard him utter a word above a child's +capacity. He can talk the most shrieking platitudes as if he had found +at last the one and only truth. And people are impressed." + +Wratislaw pulled down his eyebrows and proceeded to defend a Scottish +constituency against the libel of gullibility. But Lewis was not +listening. He did not think of the impression made on the voting +powers, but on one small girl who clamorously impeded all his thoughts. +She was, he knew, an enthusiast for the finer sentiments of life, and of +these Mr. Stocks had long ago claimed a monopoly. He felt bitterly +jealous--the jealousy of the innocent man to whom woman is an +unaccountable creature, whose habits and likings must be curiously +studied. He was dimly conscious of lacking the stage attributes of a +lover. He could not pose as a mirror of all virtues, a fanatic for the +True and the Good. Somehow or other he had acquired an air of +self-seeking egotism, unscrupulousness, which he felt miserably must +make him unlovely in certain eyes. Nor would the contest he was +entering upon improve this fancied reputation of his. He would have to +say hard, unfeeling things against what all the world would applaud as +generous sentiment. + +When the others had gone yawning to bed, he returned and sat at the +window for a little, smoking hard and puzzling out the knots which +confronted him. He had a dismal anticipation of failure. Not +defeat--that was a little matter; but an abject show of incompetence. +His feelings pulled him hither and thither. He could not utter moral +platitudes to checkmate his opponent's rhetoric, for, after all, he was +honest; nor could he fill the part of the cold critic of hazy sentiment; +gladly though he would have done it, he feared the reproach in girlish +eyes. This good man was on the horns of a dilemma. Love and habit, a +generous passion and a keen intellect dragged him alternately to their +side, and as a second sign of weakness the unwilling scribe has to +record that his conclusion as he went to bed was to let things drift--to +take his chance. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE EPISODES OF A DAY + + +It is painful to record it, but when the Glenavelin party arrived at +noon of the next day it was only to find the house deserted. Lady +Manorwater, accustomed to the vagaries of her nephew, led the guests +over the place and found to her horror that it seemed undwelt in. The +hall was in order, and the tart and rosy lairds of Etterick looked down +from their Raeburn canvases on certain signs of habitation; but the +drawing-rooms were dingy with coverings and all the large rooms were in +the same tidy disarray. Then, wise from experience, she led the way to +Lewis's sanctum, and found there a pretty luncheon-table and every token +of men's presence. Soon the four tenants arrived, hot and breathless, +from the hill, to find Bertha Afflint deep in rods and guns, Miss +Wishart and Lady Manorwater ensconced in the great armchairs, and Mr. +Stocks casting a critic's eye over the unruly bookshelves. + +Wratislaw's presence at first cast a certain awe on the assembly. His +name was so painfully familiar, so consistently abused, that it was hard +to refrain from curiosity. Lady Manorwater, an ancient ally, greeted +him effusively, and Alice cast shy glances at this strong man with the +kind smile and awkward manners. The truth is that Wratislaw was acutely +nervous. With Mr. Stocks alone was he at his ease. He shook his hand +heartily, declared himself delighted to meet him again, and looked with +such manifest favour on this opponent that the gentleman was cast into +confusion. + +"I must talk shop," cried Lady Manorwater when they were seated at +table. "Lewie, have you heard the news that poor Sir Robert has +retired? What a treasure of a cook you have, sir! The poor man is +going to travel, as his health is bad; he wrote me this morning. Now +who is to take his place? And I wish you'd get me the recipe for this +tomato soup." + +Lewis unravelled the tangled skein of his aunt's questions. + +"I heard about Merkland last night from Wratislaw. I think, perhaps, I +had better make a confession to everybody. I never intended to bother +with party politics, at least not for a good many years, but some people +want me to stand, so I have agreed. You will have a very weak opponent, +Stocks, so I hope you will pardon my impertinence in trying the thing." + +The candidate turned a little pale, but he smiled gallantly. + +"I shall be glad to have so distinguished an opponent. But I thought +that yesterday you would never have dreamed of the thing." + +"No more I should; but Wratislaw talked to me seriously and I was +persuaded." + +Wratislaw tried to look guileless, failed signally, and detected a +sudden unfavourable glance from Mr. Stocks in his direction. + +"We must manage everything as pleasantly as possible. You have my aunt +and my uncle and Arthur on your side, while I have George, who doesn't +count in this show, and I hope Wratislaw. I'll give you a three days' +start if you like in lieu of notice." And the young man laughed as if +the matter were the simplest of jokes. + +The laugh jarred very seriously on one listener. To Alice the morning +had been full of vexations, for Mr. Stocks had again sought her +company, and wearied her with a new manner of would-be gallantry which +sat ill upon him. She had come to Etterick with a tenderness towards +Lewis which was somewhat dispelled by his newly-disclosed political +aims. It meant that the Glenavelin household, including herself, would +be in a different camp for three dreary weeks, and that Mr. Stocks +would claim more of her society than ever. With feminine inconsistency +she visited her repugnance towards that gentleman on his innocent rival. +But Mr. Lewis Haystoun's light-hearted manner of regarding the business +struck the little Puritan deeper. Politics had always been a thing of +the gravest import in her eyes, bound up with a man's duty and honour +and religion, and lo! here was this Gallio who not only adorned a party +she had been led to regard as reprobate, but treated the whole affair as +a half-jocular business, on which one should not be serious. It was +sheer weakness, her heart cried out, the weakness of the philanderer, +the half-hearted. In her vexation her interest flew in sympathy to Mr. +Stocks, and she viewed him for the occasion with favour. + +"You are far too frivolous about it," she cried. "How can you fight if +you are not in earnest, and how can you speak things you only half +believe? I hate to think of men playing at politics." And she had set +her little white teeth, and sat flushed and diffident, a Muse of +Protest. + +Lewis flushed in turn. He recognized with pain the fulfilment of his +fears. He saw dismally how during the coming fight he would sink daily +in the estimation of this small critic, while his opponent would as +conspicuously rise. The prospect did not soothe him, and he turned to +Bertha Afflint, who was watching the scene with curious eyes. + +"It's very sad, Lewie," she said, "but you'll get no canvassers from +Glenavelin. We have all been pledged to Mr. Stocks for the last week. +Alice is a keen politician, and, I believe, has permanently unsettled +Lord Manorwater's easy-going Liberalism. She believes in action; +whereas, you know, he does not." + +"We all believe in action nowadays," said Wratislaw. "I could wish at +times for the revival of 'leisureliness' as a party catch-word." + +And then there ensued a passage of light arms between the great man and +Bertha which did not soothe Alice's vexation. She ignored the amiable +George, seeing in him another of the half-hearted, and in a fine heat of +virtue devoted herself to Mr. Stocks. That gentleman had been +melancholy, but the favour of Miss Wishart made him relax his heavy +brows and become communicative. He was flattered by her interest. She +heard his reminiscences with a smile and his judgments with attention. +Soon the whole table talked merrily, and two people alone were aware +that breaches yawned under the unanimity. + +Archness was not in Alice's nature, and still less was coquetry. When +Lewis after lunch begged to be allowed to show her his dwelling she did +not blush and simper, she showed no pretty reluctance, no graceful +displeasure. She thanked him, but coldly, and the two climbed the ridge +above the lake, whence the whole glen may be seen winding beneath. It +was still, hot July weather, and the far hills seemed to blink and +shimmer in the haze; but at their feet was always coolness in the blue +depth of the loch, the heath-fringed shores, the dark pines, and the +cold whinstone crags. + +"You don't relish the prospect of the next month?" she asked. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "After all, it is only a month, and it will +all be over before the shooting begins." + +"I cannot understand you," she cried suddenly and impatiently. "People +call you ambitious, and yet you have to be driven by force to the +simplest move in the game, and all the while you are thinking and +talking as if a day's sport were of far greater importance." + +"And it really vexes you--Alice?" he said, with penitent eyes. + +She drew swiftly away and turned her face, so that the man might not see +the vexation and joy struggling for mastery. + +"Of course it is none of my business, but surely it is a pity." And the +little doctrinaire walked with head erect to the edge of the slope and +studied intently the distant hills. + +The man was half amused, half pained, but his evil star was in the +ascendant. Had he known it, he would have been plain and natural, for +at no time had the girl ever been so near to him. Instead, he made some +laughing remark, which sounded harshly flippant in her ears. She looked +at him reproachfully; it was cruel to treat her seriousness with scorn; +and then, seeing Lady Manorwater and the others on the lawn below, she +asked him with studied carelessness to take her back. Lewis obeyed +meekly, cursing in his heart his unhappy trick of an easy humour. If +his virtues were to go far to rob him of what he most cared for, it +looked black indeed for the unfortunate young man. + +Meantime Wratislaw and Mr. Stocks had drawn together by the attraction +of opposites. A change had come over the latter, and momentarily +eclipsed his dignity. For the man was not without tact, and he felt +that the attitude of high-priest of all the virtues would not suit in +the presence of one whose favourite task it was to laugh his so-called +virtues to scorn. Such, at least to begin with, was his honourable +intention. But the subtle Wratislaw drew him from his retirement and +skilfully elicited his coy principles. It was a cruel performance--a +shameless one, had there been any spectator. The one would lay down a +fine generous line of policy; the other would beg for a fact in +confirmation. The one would haltingly detail some facts; the other +would promptly convince him of their falsity. Eventually the victim +grew angry and a little frightened. The real Mr. Stocks was a man of +business, not above making a deal with an opponent; and for a little the +real Mr. Stocks emerged from his shell. + +"You won't speak much in the coming fight, will you? You see, you are +rather heavy metal for a beginner like myself," he said, with commercial +frankness. + +"No, my dear Stocks, to set your mind at rest, I won't. Lewis wants to +be knocked about a little, and he wants the fight to brace him. I'll +leave him to fight his own battles, and wish good luck to the better +man. Also, I won't come to your meetings and ask awkward questions." + +Mr. Stocks bore malice only to his inferiors, and respected his betters +when he was not on a platform. He thanked Wratislaw with great +heartiness, and when Lady Manorwater found the two they were beaming on +each other like the most ancient friends. + +"Has anybody seen Lewie?" she was asking. "He is the most scandalous +host in the world. We can't find boats or canoes and we can't find him. +Oh, here is the truant!" And the renegade host was seen in the wake of +Alice descending from the ridge. + +Something in the attitude of the two struck the lady with suspicion. +Was it possible that she had been blind, and that her nephew was about +to confuse her cherished schemes? This innocent woman, who went through +the world as not being of it, had fancied that already Alice had fallen +in with her plans. She had seemed to court Mr. Stocks's company, while +he most certainly sought eagerly for hers. But Lewis, if he entered the +lists, would be a perplexing combatant, and Lady Manorwater called her +gods to witness that it should not be. Many motives decided her against +it. She hated that a scheme of her own once made should be checkmated, +though it were by her dearest friend. More than all, her pride was in +arms. Lewis was a dazzling figure; he should make a great match; money +and pretty looks and parvenu blood were not enough for his high +mightiness. + +So it came about that, when they had explored the house, circumnavigated +the loch, and had tea on a lawn of heather, she informed her party that +she must get out at Haystounslacks, for she wished to see the farmer, +and asked Bertha to keep her company. The young woman agreed readily, +with the result that Alice and Mr. Stocks were left sole occupants of +the carriage for the better half of the way. The man was only too +willing to seize the chance thus divinely given him. His irritation at +Lewis's projects had been tempered by Alice's kindness at lunch and +Wratislaw's unlooked-for complaisance. Things looked rosy for him; far +off, as on the horizon of his hopes, he saw a seat in Parliament and a +fair and amply dowered wife. + +But Miss Wishart was scarcely in so pleasant a humour. With Lewis she +was undeniably cross, but of Mr. Stocks she was radically intolerant. +A moment of pique might send her to his side, but the position was +unnatural and could not be maintained. Even now Lewis was in her +thoughts. Fragments of his odd romantic speech clove to her memory. +His figure--for he showed to perfection in his own surroundings--was so +comely and gallant, so bright with the glamour of adventurous youth, +that for a moment this prosaic young woman was a convert to the coloured +side of life and had forgotten her austere creed. + +Mr. Stocks went about his duty with praise-worthy thoroughness. For +the fiftieth time in a week he detailed to her his prospects. When he +had raised a cloud-built castle of fine hopes, when he had with manly +simplicity repeated his confession of faith, he felt that the crucial +moment had arrived. Now, when she looked down the same avenue of +prospect as himself, he could gracefully ask her to adorn the fair scene +with her presence. + +"Alice," he said, and at the sound of her name the girl started from a +reverie in which Lewis was not absent, and looked vacantly in his face. + +He took it for maidenly modesty. + +"I have wanted to speak to you for long, Alice. We have seen a good +deal of each other lately, and I have come to be very fond of you. I +trust you may have some liking for me, for I want you to promise to be +my wife." + +He told his love in regular sentences. Unconsciously he had fallen into +the soft patronizing tone in which aforetime he had shepherded a Sunday +school. + +The girl looked at the large sentimental face and laughed. She felt +ashamed of her rudeness even in the act. + +He caught her hands, and before she knew his face was close to hers. +"Promise me, dear," he said. "We have everything in common. Your +father will be delighted, and we will work together for the good of the +people. You are not meant to be a casual idler like the people at +Etterick. You and I are working man and woman." + +It was her turn to flush in downright earnest. The man's hot face +sickened her. What were these wild words he was speaking? She dimly +caught their purport, heard the mention of Etterick, saw once again +Lewis with his quick, kindly eyes, and turned coldly to the lover. + +"It is quite out of the question, Mr. Stocks," she said calmly. "Of +course I am obliged to you for the honour you have done me, but the +thing is impossible." + +"Who is it?" he cried, with angry eyes. "Is it Lewis Haystoun?" + +The girl looked quickly at him, and he was silent, abashed. Strangely +enough, at that moment she liked him better than ever before. She +forgave him his rudeness and folly, his tactless speech and his comical +face. He was in love with her, he offered her what he most valued, his +political chances and his code of fine sentiments; it was not his blame +if she found both little better than husks. + +Her attention flew for a moment to the place she had left, only to +return to a dismal reflection. Was she not, after all, in the same +galley as her rejected suitor? What place had she in the frank +good-fellowship of Etterick, or what part had they in the inheritance of +herself and her kind? Had not Mr. Stocks--now sitting glumly by her +side--spoken the truth? We are only what we are made, and generations +of thrift and seriousness had given her a love for the strenuous and the +unadorned which could never be cast out. Here was a quandary--for at +the same instant there came the voice of the heart defiantly calling her +to the breaking of idols. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOME TRUTHS + + +I + +It is told by a great writer in his generous English that when the +followers of Diabolus were arraigned before the Recorder and Mayor of +regenerate Mansoul, a certain Mr. Haughty carried himself well to the +last. "He declared," says Bunyan, "that he had carried himself bravely, +not considering who was his foe or what was the cause in which he was +engaged. It was enough for him if he fought like a man and came off +victorious." Nevertheless, we are told, he suffered the common doom, +being crucified next day at the place of execution. It is the old fate +of the freelance, the Hal o' the Wynd who fights for his own hand; for +in life's contest the taking of sides is assumed to be a necessity. + +Such was Lewis's reflections when he found Wratislaw waiting for him in +the Etterick dogcart when he emerged from a meeting in Gledsmuir. He +had now enjoyed ten days of it, and he was heartily tired. His throat +was sore with much speaking, his mind was barren with thinking on the +unthinkable, and his spirits were dashed with a bitter sense of +futility. He had honestly done his best. So far his conscience was +clear; but as he reviewed the past in detail, his best seemed a very +shoddy compromise. It was comfort to see the rugged face of Wratislaw +again, though his greeting was tempered by mistrust. The great man had +refused to speak for him and left him to fight his own battles; +moreover, he feared the judgment of the old warrior on his conduct of +the fight. He was acutely conscious of the joints in his armour, but he +had hoped to have decently cloaked them from others. When he heard the +first words, "Well, Lewie, my son, you have been making a mess of it," +his heart sank. + +"I am sorry," he said. "But how?" + +"How? Why, my dear chap, you have no grip. You have let the thing get +out of hand. I heard your speech to-night. It was excellent, very +clever, a beautiful piece of work, but worse than useless for your +purpose. You forget the sort of man you are fighting. Oh, I have been +following the business carefully, and I felt bound to come down to keep +you in order. To begin with, you have left your own supporters in the +place in a nice state of doubt." + +"How?" + +"Why, because you have given them nothing to catch hold of. They +expected the ordinary Conservative confession of faith--a rosy sketch of +foreign affairs, and a little gentle Socialism, and the old rhetoric +about Church and State. Instead, they are put off with epigrams and +excellent stories, and a few speculations as to the metaphysical basis +of politics. Believe me, Lewie, it is only the very general liking for +your unworthy self which keeps them from going over in a body to +Stocks." And Wratislaw lit a cigar and puffed furiously. + +"Then you would have me deliver the usual insincere platitudes?" said +Lewis dismally. + +"I would have you do nothing of the kind. I thought you understood my +point of view. A man like Stocks speaks his platitudes with vehemence +because he believes in them whole-heartedly. You have also your +platitudes to get through with, not because you would stake your soul on +your belief in them, but because they are as near as possible the +inaccurate popular statement of your views, which is all that your +constituents would understand, and you pander to the popular craving +because it is honest enough in itself and is for you the stepping-stone +to worthier work." + +Lewis shook his head dismally. + +"I haven't the knack of it. I seem to stand beside myself and jeer all +the while. Besides, it would be opposing complete sincerity with a very +shady substitute. That man Stocks is at least an honest fool. I met +him the other day after he had been talking some atrocious nonsense. I +asked him as a joke how he could be such a humbug, and he told me quite +honestly that he believed every word; so, of course, I apologized. He +was attacking you people on your foreign policy, and he pulled out a New +Testament and said, 'What do I read here?' It went down with many +people, but the thing took away my breath." + +His companion looked perplexedly at the speaker. "You have had the +wrong kind of education, Lewie. You have always been the spoiled child, +and easily and half-unconsciously you have mastered things which the +self-made man has to struggle towards with a painful conscious effort. +The result is that you are a highly cultured man without any crudeness +or hysteria, while the other people see things in the wrong perspective +and run their heads against walls and make themselves miserable. You +gain a lot, but you miss one thing. You know nothing of the heart of +the crowd. Oh, I don't mean the people about Etterick. They are your +own folk, and the whole air of the place is semi-feudal. But the +weavers and artisans of the towns and the ordinary farm workers--what do +you know of them? Your precious theories are so much wind in their +ears. They want the practical, the blatantly obvious, spiced with a +little emotion. Stocks knows their demands. He began among them, and +at present he is but one remove from them. A garbled quotation from the +Scriptures or an appeal to their domestic affections is the very thing +required. Moreover, the man understands an audience. He can bully it, +you know; put on airs of sham independence to cover his real obeisance; +while you are polite and deferent to hide your very obvious scorn." + +"Do you know, Tommy, I'm a coward," Lewis broke in. "I can't face the +people. When I see a crowd of upturned faces, crass, ignorant, +unwholesome many of them, I begin to despair. I cannot begin to explain +things from the beginning; besides, they would not understand me if I +did. I feel I have nothing in common with them. They lead, most of +them, unhealthy indoor lives, their minds are half-baked, and their +bodies half-developed. I feel a terrible pity, but all the same I +cannot touch them. And then I become a coward and dare not face them +and talk straight as man to man. I repeat my platitudes to the ceiling, +and they go away thinking, and thinking rightly, that I am a fool." + +Wratislaw looked worried. "That is one of my complaints. The other is +that on certain occasions you cannot hold yourself in check. Do you +know you have been blackguarded in the papers lately, and that there is +a violent article against you in the Critic, and all on account of some +unwise utterances?" + +Lewis flushed deeply. "That is the worst thing I have done, and I feel +horribly penitent. It was the act of a cad and a silly schoolboy. But +I had some provocation, Tommy. I had spoken at length amid many +interruptions, and I was getting cross. It was at Gledfoot, and the +meeting was entirely against me. Then a man got up to tackle me, not a +native, but some wretched London agitator. As I looked at him--a little +chap with fiery eyes and receding brow--and heard his cockney patter, my +temper went utterly. I made a fool of him, and I abused the whole +assembly, and, funnily enough, I carried them with me. People say I +helped my cause immensely." + +"It is possible," said Wratislaw dryly. "The Scot has a sense of humour +and has no objection to seeing his prophets put to shame. But you are +getting a nice reputation elsewhere. When I read some of your sayings, +I laughed of course, but I thought ruefully of your chances." + +It was a penitent and desponding man who followed Wratislaw into the +snuggery at Etterick. But light and food, the gleam of silver and +vellum and the sweet fragrance of tobacco consoled him; for in most +matters he was half-hearted, and politics sat lightly on his affections. + + +II + +To Alice the weeks of the contest were filled with dire unpleasantness. +Lewis, naturally, kept far from Glenavelin, while of Mr. Stocks she was +never free. She followed Lady Manorwater's lead and canvassed +vigorously, hoping to find distraction in the excitement of the fight. +But her efforts did not prosper. On one occasion she found herself in a +cottage on the Gledsmuir road, her hands filled with election +literature. A hale old man was sitting at his meal, who greeted her +cordially, and made her sit down while she stumbled through the usual +questions and exhortations. "Are ye no' bidin' at Glenavelin?" he +asked. "And have I no seen ye walking on the hill wi' Maister Lewie?" +When the girl assented, he asked, with the indignation of the +privileged, "Then what for are ye sac keen this body Stocks should win +in? If Maister Lewie's fond o' ye, wad it no be wiser--like to wark for +him? Poalitics! What should a woman's poalitics be but just the same +as her lad's? I hae nae opeenion o' this clash about weemen's +eddication." And with flaming cheeks the poor girl had risen and fled +from the old reactionary. + +The incident burned into her mind, and she was wretched with the anomaly +of her position. A dawning respect for her rejected lover began to rise +in her heart. The first of his meetings which she attended had +impressed her with his skill in his own vocation. He had held those +people interested. He had spoken bluntly, strongly, honestly. To few +women is it given to distinguish the subtle shades of sincerity in +speech, and to the rule Alice was no exception. The rhetoric and the +cheers which followed had roused the speaker to a new life. His face +became keen, almost attractive, without question full of power. He was +an orator beyond doubt, and when he concluded in a riot of applause, +Alice sat with small hands clenched and eyes shining with delight. He +had spoken the main articles of her creed, but with what force and +freshness! She was convinced, satisfied, delighted; though somewhere in +her thought lurked her old dislike of the man and the memory of another. + +As ill-luck would have it, the next night she went to hear Lewis in +Gledsmuir, when that young gentleman was at his worst. She went +unattended, being a fearless young woman, and consequently found herself +in the very back of the hall crowded among some vehement politicians. +The audience, to begin with, was not unkind. Lewis was greeted with +applause, and at the first heard with patience. But his speech was +vague, incoherent, and tactless. To her unquiet eyes he seemed to be +afraid of the men before him. Every phrase was guarded with a proviso, +and "possiblys" bristled in every sentence. The politicians at the back +grew restless, and Alice was compelled to listen to their short, +scathing criticisms. Soon the meeting was hopelessly out of hand. Men +rose and rudely marched to the door. Catcalls were frequent from the +corners, and the back of the hall became aggressive. The girl had sat +with white, pained face, understanding little save that Lewis was +talking nonsense and losing all grip on his hearers. In spite of +herself she was contrasting this fiasco with the pithy words of Mr. +Stocks. When the meeting became unruly she looked for some display of +character, some proof of power. Mr. Stocks would have fiercely cowed +the opposition, or at least have spoken the last word in any quarrel. +Lewis's conduct was different. He shrugged his shoulders, made some +laughing remark to a friend on the platform, and with all the +nonchalance in the world asked the meeting if they wished to hear any +more. A claque of his supporters replied with feigned enthusiasm, but a +malcontent at Alice's side rose and stamped to the door. "I came to +hear sense," he cried, "and no this bairn's-blethers!" + +The poor girl was in despair. She had fancied him a man of power and +ambition, a doer, a man of action. But he was no more than a creature +of words and sentiment, graceful manners, and an engaging appearance. +The despised Mr. Stocks was the real worker. She had laughed at his +incessant solemnity as the badge of a fool, and adored Lewis's +light-heartedness as the true air of the great. But she had been +mistaken. Things were what they seemed. The light-hearted was the +half-hearted, "the wandering dilettante," Mr. Stocks had called him, +"the worst type of the pseudo-culture of our universities." She told +herself she hated the whole affectation of breeding and chivalry. Those +men--Lewis and his friends--were always kind and soft-spoken to her and +her sex. Her soul hated it; she cried aloud for equal treatment, for a +share of the iron and rigour of life. Their manners were a mere cloak +for contempt. If they could only be rude to a woman, it would be a +welcome relief from this facile condescension. What had she or any +woman with brains to do in that galley? They despised her kind, with +the scorn of sultans who chose their women-folk for looks and graces. +The thought was degrading, and a bitterness filled her heart against the +whole clique of easy aristocrats. Mr. Stocks was her true ally. To +him she was a woman, an equal; to them she was an engaging child, a +delicate toy. + +So far she went in her heresy, but no farther. It is a true saying that +you will find twenty heroic women before you may meet one generous one; +but Alice was not wholly without this rarest of qualities. The memory +of a frank voice, very honest grey eyes, and a robust cheerfulness +brought back some affection for the erring Lewis. The problem was +beyond her reconciling efforts, so the poor girl, torn between common +sense and feeling, and recognizing with painful clearness the complexity +of life, found refuge in secret tears. + +III + +The honours of the contest, so far as Lewis's party was concerned, fell +to George Winterham, and this was the fashion of the event. He had been +dragged reluctantly into the thing, foreseeing dire disaster for +himself, for he knew little and cared less about matters political, +though he was ready enough at a pinch to place his ignorance at his +friend's disposal. So he had been set to the dreary work of +committee-rooms; and then, since his manners were not unpleasing, +dispatched as aide-de-camp to any chance orator who enlivened the +county. But at last a crisis arrived in which other use was made of +him. A speaker of some pretensions had been announced for a certain +night at the considerable village of Allerfoot. The great man failed, +and as it was the very eve of the election none could be found for his +place. Lewis was in despair, till he thought of George. It was a +desperate chance, but the necessity was urgent, so, shutting himself up +for an hour, he wrote the better part of a speech which he entrusted to +his friend to prepare. George, having a good memory, laboriously +learned it by heart, and clutching the friendly paper and +whole-heartedly abusing his chief, he set out grimly to his fate. + +Promptly at the hour of eight he was deposited at the door of the +Masonic Hail in Allerfoot. The place seemed full, and a nervous +chairman was hovering around the gate. News of the great man's +defection had already been received, and he was in the extremes of +nervousness. He greeted George as a saviour, and led him inside, where +some three hundred people crowded a small whitewashed building. The +village of Allerfoot itself is a little place, but it is the centre of a +wide pastoral district, and the folk assembled were brown-faced herds +and keepers from the hills, plough-men from the flats of Glen Aller, a +few fishermen from the near sea-coast, as well as the normal inhabitants +of the village. + +George was wretchedly nervous and sat in a cold sweat while the chairman +explained that the great Mr. S---- deeply regretted that at the last +moment he was unfortunately compelled to break so important an +engagement, but that he had sent in his stead Mr. George Winterham, +whose name was well known as a distinguished Oxford scholar and a rising +barrister. George, who had been ploughed twice for Smalls and had +eventually taken a pass degree, and to whom the law courts were nearly +as unknown as the Pyramids, groaned inwardly at the astounding news. +The audience might have been a turnip field for all the personality it +possessed for him. He heard their applause as the chairman sat down +mopping his brow, and he rose to his feet conscious that he was smiling +like an idiot. He made some introductory remarks of his own--that "he +was sorry the other chap hadn't turned up, that he was happy to have the +privilege of expounding to them his views on this great subject "--and +then with an ominous sinking of heart plucked forth his papers and +launched into the unknown. + +The better part of the speech was wiped clean from his memory at the +start, so he had to lean heavily on the written word. He read rapidly +but without intelligence. Now and again a faint cheer would break the +even flow, and he would look up for a moment with startled eyes, only to +go off again with quickened speed. He found himself talking neat +paradoxes which he did not understand, and speaking glibly of names +which to him were no more than echoes. Eventually he came to an end at +least twenty minutes before a normal political speech should close, and +sat down, hot and perplexed, with a horrible sense of having made a fool +of himself. + +The chairman, no less perplexed, made the usual remarks and then called +for questions, for the time had to be filled in somehow. The words left +George aghast. The wretched man looked forward to raw public shame. +His ignorance would be exposed, his presumption laid bare, his pride +thrown in the dust. He nerved himself for a despairing effort. He +would brazen things out as far as possible; afterwards, let the heavens +fall. + +An old minister rose and asked in a thin ancient voice what the +Government had done for the protection of missionaries in +Khass-Kotannun. Was he, Mr. Winterham, aware that our missionaries in +that distant land had been compelled to wear native dress by the +arrogant chiefs, and so fallen victims to numerous chills and epidemics? + +George replied that he considered the treatment abominable, believed +that the matter occupied the mind of the Foreign Office night and day, +and would be glad personally to subscribe to any relief fund. The good +man declared himself satisfied, and St. Sebastian breathed freely +again. + +A sturdy man in homespun rose to discover the Government's intention on +Church matters. Did the speaker ken that on his small holding he paid +ten pound sterling in tithes, though he himself did not hold with the +Establishment, being a Reformed Presbyterian? The Laodicean George said +he did not understand the differences, but that it seemed to him a +confounded shame, and he would undertake that Mr. Haystoun, if +returned, would take immediate steps in the matter. + +So far he had done well, but with the next question he betrayed his +ignorance. A good man arose, also hot on Church affairs, to discourse +on some disabilities, and casually described himself as a U.P. George's +wits busied themselves in guessing at the mystic sign. At last to his +delight he seemed to achieve it, and, in replying, electrified his +audience by assuming that the two letters stood for Unreformed +Presbyterian. + +But the meeting was in good humour in spite of his incomprehensible +address and unsatisfying answers, till a small section of the young +bloods of the opposite party, who had come to disturb, felt that this +peace must be put an end to. Mr. Samuel M'Turk, lawyer's clerk, who +hailed from the west country and betrayed his origin in his speech, rose +amid some applause from his admirers to discomfit George. He was a +young man with a long, sallow face, carefully oiled and parted hair, and +a resonant taste in dress. A bundle of papers graced his hand, and his +air was parliamentary. + +"Wis Mister Winterham aware that Mister Haystoun had contradicted +himself on two occasions lately, as he would proceed to show?" + +George heard him patiently, said that now he was aware of the fact, but +couldn't for the life of him see what the deuce it mattered. + +"After Mister Winterham's ignoring of my pint," went on the young man, +"I proceed to show ..." and with all the calmness in the world he +displayed to his own satisfaction how Mr. Lewis Haystoun was no fit +person to represent the constituency. He profaned the Sabbath, which +this gentleman professed to hold dear, he was notorious for drunkenness, +and his conduct abroad had not been above suspicion. + +George was on his feet in a moment, his confusion gone, his face very +red, and his shoulders squared for a fight. The man saw the effect of +his words, and promptly sat down. + +"Get up," said George abruptly. + +The man's face whitened and he shrank back among his friends. + +"Get up; up higher--on the top of the seat, that everybody may see and +hear you! Now repeat very carefully all that over again." + +The man's confidence had deserted him. He stammered something about +meaning no harm. + +"You called my friend a drunken blackguard. I am going to hear the +accusation in detail." George stood up to his full height, a terrible +figure to the shrinking clerk, who repeated his former words with a +faltering tongue. + +He heard him out quietly, and then stared coolly down on the people. He +felt himself master of the situation. The enemy had played into his +hands, and in the shape of a sweating clerk sat waiting on his action. + +"You have heard what this man has to tell you. I ask you as men, as +folk of this countryside, if it is true?" + +It was the real speech of the evening, which was all along waiting to be +delivered instead of the frigid pedantries on the paper. A man was +speaking simply, valiantly, on behalf of his friend. It was cunningly +done, with the natural tact which rarely deserts the truly honest man in +his hour of extremity. He spoke of Lewis as he had known him, at school +and college and in many wild sporting expeditions in desert places, and +slowly the people kindled and listened. Then, so to speak, he kicked +away the scaffolding of his erection. He ceased to be the apologist, +and became the frank eulogist. He stood squarely on the edge of the +platform, gathering the eyes of his hearers, smiling pleasantly, arms +akimbo, a man at his ease and possibly at his pleasure. + +"Some of you are herds," he cried, "and some are fishers, and some are +farmers, and some are labourers. Also some of you call yourselves +Radicals or Tories or Socialists. But you are all of you far more than +these things. You are men--men of this great countryside, with blood in +your veins and vigour in that blood. If you were a set of pale-faced +mechanics, I should not be speaking to you, for I should not understand +you. But I know you all, and I like you, and I am going to prevent you +from making godless fools of yourselves. There are two men before you. +One is a very clever man, whom I don't know anything about, nor you +either. The other is my best friend, and known to all of you. Many of +you have shot or sailed with him, many of you were born on his and his +fathers' lands. I have told you of his abilities and quoted better +judges than myself. I don't need to tell you that he is the best of +men, a sportsman, a kind master, a very good fellow indeed. You can +make up your mind between the two. Opinions matter very little, but +good men are too scarce to be neglected. Why, you fools," he cried with +boisterous good humour, "I should back Lewis if he were a Mohammedan or +an Anarchist. The man is sound metal, I tell you, and that's all I +ask." + +It was a very young man's confession of faith, but it was enough. The +meeting went with him almost to a man. A roar of applause greeted the +smiling orator, and when he sat down with flushed face, bright eyes, and +a consciousness of having done his duty, John Sanderson, herd in Nether +Callowa, rose to move a vote of confidence: + +"That this assembly is of opinion that Maister Lewis Haystoun is a guid +man, and sae is our friend Maister Winterham, and we'll send Lewie back +to Parliament or be--" + +It was duly seconded and carried with acclamation. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE PRIDE BEFORE A FALL + + +The result of the election was announced in Gledsmuir on the next +Wednesday evening, and carried surprise to all save Lewis's nearer +friends. For Mr. Albert Stocks was duly returned member for the +constituency by a majority of seventy votes. The defeated candidate +received the news with great composure, addressed some good-humoured +words to the people, had a generous greeting for his opponent, and met +his committee with a smiling face. But his heart was sick within him, +and as soon as he decently might he escaped from the turmoil, found his +horse, and set off up Glenavelin for his own dwelling. + +He had been defeated, and the fact, however confidently looked for, +comes with a bitter freshness to every man. He had lost a seat for his +party--that in itself was bad. But he had proved himself incompetent, +unadaptable, a stick, a pedantic incapable. A dozen stings rankled in +his soul. Alice would be justified of her suspicions. Where would his +place be now in that small imperious heart? His own people had forsaken +him for a gross and unlikely substitute, and he had been wrong in his +estimate alike of ally and enemy. Above all came that cruelest +stab--what would Wratislaw think of it? He had disgraced himself in the +eyes of his friend. He who had made a fetish of competence had +manifestly proved wanting; he who had loved to think of himself as the +bold, opportune man, had shown himself formal and hidebound. + +As he passed Glenavelin among the trees the thought of Alice was a sharp +pang of regret. He could never more lift his eyes in that young and +radiant presence. He pictured the successful Stocks welcomed by her, +and words of praise for which he would have given his immortal soul, +meted out lavishly to that owl-like being. It was a dismal business, +and ruefully, but half-humorously, he caught at the paradox of his fate. + +Through the swiftly failing darkness the inn of Etterick rose before +him, a place a little apart from the village street. A noise of talk +floated from the kitchen and made him halt at the door and dismount. +The place would be full of folk discussing the election, and he would go +in among them and learn the worst opinion which men might have of him. +After all, they were his own people, who had known him in his power as +they now saw him in his weakness. If he had failed he was not wholly +foolish; they knew his few redeeming virtues, and they would be +generous. + +The talk stopped short as he entered, and he saw through the tobacco +reek half a dozen lengthy faces wearing the air of solemnity which the +hillman adopts in his pleasures. They were all his own herds and +keepers, save two whom he knew for foresters from Glenavelin. He was +recognized at once, and with a general nervous shuffling they began to +make room for the laird at the table. He cried a hasty greeting to all, +and sat down between a black-bearded giant, whose clothes smelt of +sheep, and a red-haired man from one of the remoter glens. The notion +of the thing pleased him, and he ordered drinks for each with a lavish +carelessness. He asked for a match for his pipe, and the man who gave +it wore a decent melancholy on his face and shook his head with unction. + +"This is a bad job, Lewie," he said, using the privileged name of the +ancient servant. "Whae would have ettled sic a calaamity to happen in +your ain countryside? We a' thocht it would be a grand pioy for ye, for +ye would settle down here and hae nae mair foreign stravaigins. And +then this tailor body steps in and spoils a'. It's maist vexaatious." + +"It was a good fight, and he beat me fairly; but we'll drop the matter. +I'm sick--tired of politics, Adam. If I had been a better man they +might have made a herd of me, and I should have been happy." + +"Wheesht, Lewie," said the man, grinning. "A herd's job is no for the +likes o' you. But there's better wark waiting for ye than poalitics. +It's a beggar's trade after a', and far better left to bagman bodies +like yon Stocks. It's a puir thing for sac proper a man as you." + +"But what can I do?" cried Lewis in despair. "I have no profession. I +am useless." + +"Useless! Ye are a grand judge o' sheep and nowt, and ye ken a horse +better than ony couper. Ye can ride like a jockey and drive like a +Jehu, and there's no your equal in these parts with a gun or a +fishing-rod. Forbye, I would rather walk ae mile on the hill wi' ye +than twae, for ye gang up a brae-face like a mawkin! God! There's no a +single man's trade that ye're no brawly fitted for. And then ye've a +heap o' book-lear that folk learned ye away about England, though I +cannot speak muckle on that, no being a jidge." + +Lewis grinned at the portraiture. "You do me proud. But let's talk +about serious things. You were on sheep when I came in. Get back to +them and give me your mind on Cheviots. The lamb sales promise well." + +For twenty minutes the room hummed with technicalities. One man might +support the conversation on alien matters, but on sheep the humblest +found a voice: Lewis watched the ring of faces with a sharp delight. +The election had made him sick of his fellows--fellows who chattered and +wrangled and wallowed in the sentimental. But now every line of these +brown faces, the keen blue eyes, the tawny, tangled beards, and the +inimitable soft-sounding southern speech, seemed an earnest of a real +and strenuous life. He began to find a new savour in existence. The +sense of his flat incompetence left him, and he found himself speaking +heartily and laughing with zest. + +"It's as I say," said the herd of the Redswirebead. "I'm getting an +auld man and a verra wise ane, and the graund owercome for the world is +just 'Pay no attention.' Ye'll has heard how the word cam' to be. It +was Jock Linklater o' the Caulds wha was glen notice to quit by the +laird, and a' the countryside was vexed to pairt wi' Jock, for he was a +popular character. But about a year after a friend meets him at +Gledsmuir merkit as crouse as ever. 'Lodsake, Jock, man, I thocht ye +were awa',' says he. 'No,' says Jock, 'no. I'm here as ye see.' 'But +how did ye manage it?' he asked. 'Fine,' says Jock. 'They sent me a +letter tellin' me I must gang; but I just payed no attention. Syne they +sent me a blue letter frae the lawyer's, but I payed no attention. Syne +the factor cam' to see me.' 'Ay, and what did ye do then, Jock?' says +he. 'Oh, I payed no attention. Syne the laird cam' himsel.' 'Ay, that +would fricht ye,' he says. 'No, no a grain,' said Jock, verra calm. 'I +just payed no attention, and here I am.'" + +Lewis laughed, but the rest of the audience suffered no change of +feature. The gloaming had darkened, and the little small-paned window +was a fretted sheet of dark and lucent blue. Grateful odours of food +and drink and tobacco hung in the air, though tar and homespun and the +far-carried fragrance of peat fought stoutly for the mastery. + +One man fell to telling of a fox-hunt, when he lay on the hill for the +night and shot five of the destroyers of his flock before the morning, +it was the sign--and the hour--for stories of many kinds--tales of +weather and adventure, humorous lowland escapades and dismal mountain +realities. Or stranger still, there would come the odd, half-believed +legends of the glen, told shamefully yet with the realism of men for +whom each word had a power and meaning far above fiction. Lewis +listened entranced, marking his interest now by an exclamation, and +again by a question. + +The herd of Farawa told of the salmon, the king of the Aller salmon, who +swam to the head of Aller and then crossed the spit of land to the head +of Callowa to meet the king of the Callowa fish. It was a humorous +story, and was capped there and then by his cousin of the Dreichill, who +told a ghastly tale of a murder in the wilds. Then a lonely man, Simon +o' the Heid o' the Hope, glorified his powers on a January night when he +swung himself on a flood-gate over the Aller while the thing quivered +beneath him, and the water roared redly above his thighs. + +"And that yett broke when I was three pairts ower, and I went down the +river with my feet tangled in the bars and nae room for sweemin'. But I +gripped an oak-ritt and stelled mysel' for an hour till the water +knockit the yett to sawdust. It broke baith my ankles, and though I'm a +mortal strong man in my arms, thae twisted kitts keepit me helpless. +When a man's feet are broke he has nae strength in his wrist." + +"I know," said Lewis, with excitement. "I have found the same myself." + +"Where?" asked the man, without rudeness. + +"Once on the Skifso when I was after salmon, and once in the Doorab +hills above Abjela." + +"Were ye sick when they rescued ye? I was. I had twae muscles sprung +on my arm, but that was naething to the retching and dizziness when they +laid me on the heather. Jock Jeffrey was bending ower me, and though he +wasna touching me I began to suffocate, and yet I was ower weak to cry +out and had to thole it." + +"I know. If you hang up in the void for a little and get the feeling of +great space burned on your mind, you nearly die of choking when you are +pulled up. Fancy you knowing about that." + +"Have you suffered it, Maister Lewie?" said the man. + +"Once. There was a gully in the Doorabs just like the Scarts o' the +Muneraw, only twenty times deeper, and there was a bridge of tree-trunks +bound with ropes across it. We all got over except one mule and a +couple of men. They were just getting off when a trunk slipped and +dangled down into the abyss with one end held up by the ropes. The poor +animal went plumb to the bottom; we heard it first thud on a jag of rock +and then, an age after, splash in the water. One of the men went with +it, but the other got his legs caught between the ropes and the tree and +managed to hang on. The poor beggar was helpless with fright; and he +squealed--great heavens! how he did squeal!" + +"And what did ye dae?" asked a breathless audience. + +"I went down after him. I had to, for I was his master, and besides, I +was a bit of an athlete then. I cried to him to hang on and not look +down. I clambered down the swaying trunk while my people held the ropes +at the top, and when I got near the man I saw what had happened. + +"He had twisted his ankles in the fall, and though he had got them out +of the ropes, yet they hung loose and quite obviously broken. I got as +near him as I could, and leaned over, and I remember seeing through +below his armpits the blue of the stream six hundred feet down. It made +me rather sick with my job, and when I called him to pull himself up a +bit till I could grip him I thought he was helpless with the same +fright. But it turned out that I had misjudged him. He had no power in +his arms, simply the dead strength to hang on. I was in a nice fix, for +I could lower myself no farther without slipping into space. Then I +thought of a dodge. I got a good grip of the rope and let my legs +dangle down till they were level with his hands. I told him to try and +change his grip and catch my ankles. He did it, somehow or other, and +by George! the first shock of his weight nearly ended me, for he was a +heavy man. However, I managed to pull myself up a yard or two and then +I could reach down and catch his arms. We both got up somehow or other, +but it took a devilish time, and when they laid us both on the ground +and came round like fools with brandy I thought I should choke and had +scarcely strength to swear at them to get out." + +The assembly had listened intently, catching its breath with a sharp +_risp_ as all outdoor folks will do when they hear of an escapade which +strikes their fancy. One man--a stranger--hammered his empty pipe-bowl +on the table in applause. + +"Whae was the man, d'ye say?" he asked. "A neeger?" + +Lewis laughed. "Not a nigger most certainly, though he had a brown +face." + +"And ye risked your life for a black o' some kind? Man, ye must be +awfu' fond o' your fellow men. Wad ye dae the same for the likes o' us? + +"Surely. For one of my own folk! But it was really a very small +thing." + +"Then I have just ae thing to say," said the brown-bearded man. "I am +what ye cal a Raadical, and yestreen I recorded my vote for yon man +Stocks. He crackit a lot about the rights o' man--as man, and I was wi' +him. But I tell ye that you yoursel' have a better notion o' human +kindness than ony Stocks, and though ye're no o' my party, yet I +herewith propose a vote o' confidence in Maister Lewis Haystoun." + +The health was drunk solemnly yet with gusto, and under cover of it +Lewis fled out of doors. His despondency had passed, and a fit of +fierce exhilaration had seized him. Men still swore by his name; he was +still loved by his own folk; small matter to him if a townsman had +defeated him. He was no vain talker, but a doer, a sportsman, an +adventurer. This was his true career. Let others have the applause of +excited indoor folk or dull visionaries; for him a man's path, a man's +work, and a man's commendation. + +The moon was up, riding high in a shoreless sea of blue, and in the +still weather the streams called to each other from the mountain sides, +as in some fantastic cosmic harmony. High on the ridge shoulder the +lights of Etterick twinkled starlike amid the fretted veil of trees. A +sense of extraordinary and crazy exhilaration, the recoil from the +constraint of weeks, laid hold on his spirit. He hummed a dozen +fragments of song, and at times would laugh with the pure pleasure of +life. The quixotic, the generous, the hopeless, the successful; +laughter and tears; death and birth; the warm hearth and the open +road--all seemed blent for the moment into one great zest for living. +"I'll to Lochiel and Appin and kneel to them," he was humming aloud, +when suddenly his bridle was caught and a man's hand was at his knee. + +"Lewie," cried Wratislaw, "gracious, man! have you been drinking?" And +then seeing the truth, he let go the bridle, put an arm through the +stirrup leathers, and walked by the horse's side. "So that's the way +you take it, old chap? Do you know that you are a discredited and +defeated man? and yet I find you whistling like a boy. I have hopes +for you, Lewie. You have the Buoyant Heart, and with that nothing can +much matter. But, confound it! you are hours late for dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY + + +The news of the election, brought to Glenavelin by a couple of ragged +runners, had a different result from that forecast by Lewis. Alice +heard it with a heart unquickened; and when, an hour after, the flushed, +triumphant Mr. Stocks arrived in person to claim the meed of success, +he was greeted with a painful carelessness. Lady Manorwater had been +loud in her laments for her nephew, but to Mr. Stocks she gave the +honest praise which a warm-hearted woman cannot withhold from the +fighter. + +"Our principles have won," she cried. "Now who will call the place a +Tory stronghold? Oh, Mr. Stocks, you have done wonderfully, and I am +very glad. I'm not a bit sorry for Lewis, for he well deserved his +beating." + +But with Alice there could be neither pleasure nor its simulation. Her +terrible honesty forbade her the easy path of false congratulations. +She bit her lip till tears filled her eyes. What was this wretched +position into which she had strayed? Lewis was all she had feared, but +he was Lewis, and far more than any bundle of perfections. A hot, +passionate craving for his presence was blinding her to reason. And +this man who had won--this, the fortunate politician--she cared for him +not a straw. A strong dislike began to grow in her heart to the +blameless Mr. Stocks. + +Dinner that night was a weary meal to the girl. Lady Manorwater +prattled about the day's events, and Lord Manorwater, hopelessly bored, +ate his food in silence. The lively Bertha had gone to bed with a +headache, and the younger Miss Afflint was the receptacle for the moment +of her hostess's confidences. Alice sat between Mr. Stocks and Arthur, +facing a tall man with a small head and immaculate hair who had ridden +over to dine and sleep. One of the two had the wisdom to see her humour +and keep silent, though the thought plunged him into a sea of ugly +reflections. It would be hard if, now that things were going well with +him, the lady alone should prove obdurate. For in all this politician's +daydreams a dainty figure walked by his side, sat at his table's head, +received his friends, fascinated austere ministers, and filled his pipe +of an evening at home. + +Arthur was silent, and to him the lady turned in vain. He treated her +with an elaborate politeness which sat ill on his brusque manners, and +for the most part showed no desire to enliven the prevailing dulness. +But after dinner he carried her off to the gardens on the plea of fresh +air and a fine sunset, and the girl, who liked the boy, went gladly. +Then the reason of his silence was made plain. He dismayed her by +becoming lovesick. + +"Tell me your age, Alice," he implored. + +"I am twenty at Christmas time," said the girl, amazed at the question. + +"And I am seventeen or very nearly that. Men sometimes marry women +older than themselves, and I don't see why I shouldn't. Oh, Alice, +promise that you will marry me. I never met a girl I liked so much, and +I am sure we should be happy." + +"I am sure we should," said the girl, laughing. "You silly boy! what +put such nonsense in your head? I am far too old for you, and though I +like you very much, I don't in the least want to marry you." She seemed +to herself to have got out of a sober world into a sort of Mad +Tea-party, where people behaved like pantaloons and spoke in conundrums. + +The boy flushed and his eyes grew cross. "Is it somebody else?" he +asked; at which the girl, with a memory of Mr. Stocks, reflected on the +dreadful monotony of men's ways. + +A solution flashed upon his brain. "Are you going to marry Lewie +Haystoun?" he cried in a more cheerful voice. After all, Lewis was his +cousin, and a worthy rival. + +Alice grew hotly uncomfortable. "I am not going to marry Mr. Lewis +Haystoun, and I am not going to talk to you any more." And she turned +round with a flaming face to the cool depths of the wood. + +"Then it is that fellow Stocks. Oh, Lord!" groaned Arthur, irritated +into bad manners. "You can't mean it, Alice. He's not fit to black +your boots." + +Some foolish impulse roused the girl to reply. She defended the very +man against whom all the evening she had been unreasonably bitter. "You +have no right to abuse him. He is your people's guest and a very +distinguished man, and you are only a foolish boy." + +He paled below his sunburn. Now he believed the truth of the horrid +suspicion which had been fastening on his mind. "But--but," he +stammered, "the chap isn't a gentleman, you know." + +The words quickened her vexation. A gentleman! The cant word, the +fetish of this ring of idle aristocrats--she knew the hollowness of the +whole farce. The democrat in her made her walk off with erect head and +bright eyes, leaving a penitent boy behind; while all the time a sick, +longing heart drove her to the edge of tears. + + * * * * * + +The days dragged slowly for the girl. The brightness had gone out of +the wide, airy landscape, and the warm August days seemed chill. She +hated herself for the wrong impression she had left on the boy Arthur's +mind, but she was too proud to seek to erase it; she could but trust to +his honour for silence. If Lewis heard--the thought was too terrible to +face! He would resign himself to the inevitable; she knew the temper of +the man. Good form was his divinity, and never by word or look would he +attempt to win another man's betrothed. She must see him and learn the +truth: but he came no more to Glenavelin, and Etterick was a far cry for +a girl's fancy. Besides, the Twelfth had come and the noise of guns on +every hill spoke of other interests for the party at Etterick. Lewis +had forgotten his misfortunes, she told herself, and in the easy way of +the half-hearted found in bodily fatigue a drug for a mind but little in +need of it. + + * * * * * + +One afternoon Lady Manorwater came over the lawn waving a letter. "Do +you want to go and picnic to-morrow, Alice?" she cried. "Lewis is to +be shooting on the moors at the head of the Avelin, and he wants us to +come and lunch at the Pool of Ness. He wants the whole party to come, +particularly Mr. Stocks, and he wants to know if you have forgiven him. +What can the boy mean?" + +As the cheerful little lady paused, Alice's heart beat till she feared +betrayal. A sudden fierce pleasure burned in her veins. Did he still +seek her good opinion? Was he, as well as herself, miserable alone? +And then came like a stab the thought that he had joined her with +Stocks. Did he class her with that alien world of prigs and dullards? +She ceased to think, and avoiding her hostess and tea, ran over the +wooden bridge to the slope of hill and climbed up among the red heather. + +A month ago she had been heart-whole and young, a simple child. The +same prejudices and generous beliefs had been hers, but held loosely +with a child's comprehension. But now this old world had been awakened +to arms against a dazzling new world of love and pleasure. She was led +captive by emotion, but the cold rook of scruple remained. She had read +of women surrendering all for love, but she felt dismally that this +happy gift had been denied her. Criticism, a fierce, vulgar antagonism, +impervious to sentiment, not to be exorcised by generous impulse--such +was her unlovely inheritance. + +As she leaned over a pool of clear brown water in a little burn, where +scented ferns dipped and great rocks of brake and heather shadowed, she +saw her face and figure mirrored in every colour and line. Her +extraordinary prettiness delighted her, and then she laughed at her own +vanity. A lady of the pools, with the dark eyes and red-gold hair of +the north, surely a creature of dawn and the blue sky, and born for no +dreary self-communings. She returned, with her eyes clear and something +like laughter in her heart. To-morrow she should see him, to-morrow! + + * * * * * + +It was the utter burning silence of midday, when the man who toils loses +the skin of his face, and the man who rests tastes the joys of deep +leisure. The blue, airless sky, the level hilltops, the straight lines +of glen, the treeless horizon of the moors--no sharp ridge or cliff +caught the tired eye, only an even, sleep-lulled harmony. Five very +hungry, thirsty, and wearied men lay in the shadow above the Pool of +Ness, and prayed heaven for luncheon. + +Lewis and George, Wratislaw and Arthur Mordaunt were there, and Doctor +Gracey, who loved a day on the hills. The keepers sat farther up the +slope smoking their master's tobacco--sure sign of a well-spent morning. +For the party had been on the moors by eight, and for five burning hours +had tramped the heather. All wore light and airy shooting-clothes save +the doctor, who had merely buckled gaiters over his professional black +trousers. All were burned to a tawny brown, and all lay in different +attitudes of gasping ease. Few things so clearly proclaim a man's past +as his posture when lounging. Arthur and Wratislaw lay, like townsmen, +prone on their faces with limbs rigidly straight. Lewis and George--old +campaigners both--lay a little on the side, arms lying loosely, and +knees a little bent. But one and all gasped, and swore softly at the +weather. + +"Turn round, Tommy," said George, glancing up, "or you'll get sunstroke +at the back of the neck. I've had it twice, so I ought to know. You +want to wet your handkerchief and put it below your cap. Why don't you +wear a deer-stalker instead of that hideous jockey thing? Feugh, I am +warm and cross and thirsty. Lewis, I'll give your aunt five minutes, +and then I shall go down and drink that pool dry." + +Lewis sat up and watched the narrow ribbon of road which coiled up the +glen to the pool's edge. He only saw some hundreds of yards down it, +but the prospect served to convince him that his erratic aunt was late. + +"If my wishes had any effect," said George, "at this moment I should be +having iced champagne." And he cast a longing eye to the hampers. + +"You won't get any," said Lewis. "We are not sybarites in this +glen, and our drinks are the drinks of simple folk. Do you +remember Cranstoun? I once went stalking with him, and we had +_pate-de-foie-gras_ for luncheon away up on the side of a rugged +mountain. That sort of thing sets my teeth on edge." + +"Honest man!" cried George. "But here are your friends, and you had +better stir yourself and make them welcome." + +Five very cool and leisurely beings were coming up the hill-path, for, +having driven to above the village, they had had an easy walk of +scarcely half a mile. Lewis's eye sought out a slight figure behind the +others, a mere gleam of pink and white. As she stepped out from the +path to the heather his eye was quick to seize her exquisite grace. +Other women arrayed themselves in loose and floating raiment, ribbons +and what not; but here was one who knew her daintiness, and made no +effort to cloak it. Trim, cool, and sweet, the coils of bright hair +above the white frock catching the noon sun--surely a lady to pray for +and toil for, one made for no facile wooing or easy conquest. + +Lewis advanced to Mr. Stocks as soon as he had welcomed his aunt, and +shook hands cordially. "We seem to have lost sight of each other during +the last few days. I never congratulated you enough, but you probably +understood that my head was full of other things. You fought +splendidly, and I can't say I regret the issue. You will do much better +than I ever could." + +Mr. Stocks smiled happily. The wheel of his fortunes was bringing him +very near the top. All the way up he had had Alice for a companion; and +that young woman, happy from a wholly different cause, had been +wonderfully gracious. He felt himself on Mr. Lewis Haystoun's level at +last, and the baffling sense of being on a different plane, which he had +always experienced in his company, was gone, he hoped, for ever. So he +became frank and confidential, forgot the pomp of his talk and his +inevitable principles, and assisted in laying lunch. + +Lady Manorwater drove her nephew into a corner. + +"Where have you been, Lewis, all these days? If you had been anybody +else, I should have said you were sulking. I must speak to you +seriously. Do you know that Alice has been breaking her heart for you? +I won't have the poor child made miserable, and though I don't in the +least want you to marry her, yet; I cannot have you playing with her." + +Lewis had grown suddenly very red. + +"I think you are mistaken," he said stiffly. "Miss Wishart does not +care a straw for me. If she is in love with anybody, it is with +Stocks." + +"I am much older than you, my dear, and I should know better. I may as +well confess that I hoped it would be Mr. Stocks, but I can't +disbelieve my own eyes. The child becomes wretched whenever she hears +your name." + +"You are making me miserably unhappy, because I can't believe a word of +it. I have made a howling fool of myself lately, and I can't be blind +to what she thinks of me." + +Lady Manorwater looked pathetic. "Is the great Lewis ashamed of +himself?" + +"Not a bit. I would do it again, for it is my nature to, as the hymn +says. I am cut all the wrong way, and my mind is my mind, you know. +But I can't expect Miss Wishart to take that point of view." + +His aunt shook a hopeless head. "Your moral nature is warped, my dear. +It has always been the same since you were a very small boy at +Glenavelin, and read the Holy War on the hearthrug. You could never be +made to admire Emmanuel and his captains, but you set your heart on the +reprobates Jolly and Griggish. But get away and look after your guests, +sir." + +Lunch came just in time to save five hungry men from an undignified end. +The Glenavelin party looked on with amusement as the ravenous appetites +were satisfied. Mr. Stocks, in a huge good humour, talked discursively +of sport. He inquired concerning the morning's bag, and called up +reminiscences of friends who had equalled or exceeded it. Lewis was +uncomfortable, for he felt that in common civility Mr. Stocks should +have been asked to shoot. He could not excuse himself with the plea of +an unintentional omission, for he had heard reports of the gentleman's +wonderful awkwardness with a gun, and he had not found it in his heart +to spoil the sport of five keen and competent hands. + +He dared not look at Alice, for his aunt's words had set his pulses +beating hotly. For the last week he had wrestled with himself, telling +his heart that this lady was beyond his ken for ever and a day, for he +belonged by nature to the clan of despondent lovers. Before, she had +had all the icy reserve, he all the fervours. The hint of some spark of +fire behind the snows of her demeanour filled him with a delirious joy. +Every movement of her body pleased him, every word which she spoke, the +blitheness of her air and the ready kindness. The pale, pretty Afflint +girls, with their wit and their confidence, seemed old and womanly +compared with Alice. Let simplicity be his goddess +henceforth--simplicity and youth. + +The Pool of Ness is a great, black cauldron of clear water, with berries +above and berries below, and high crags red with heather. There you may +find shade in summer, and great blaeberries and ripening rowans in the +wane of August. These last were the snare for Alice, who was ever an +adventurer. For the moment she was the schoolgirl again, and all sordid +elderly cares were tossed to the wind. She teased Doctor Gracey to that +worthy's delight, and she bade George and Arthur fetch and carry in a +way that made them her slaves for life. Then she unbent to Mr. Stocks +and made him follow her out on a peninsula of rock, above which hung a +great cluster of fruit. The unfortunate politician was not built for +this kind of exercise, and slipped and clung despairingly to every root +and cleft. Lewis followed aimlessly: her gaiety did not fit with his +mood; and he longed to have her to himself and know his fortune. + +He passed the panting Stocks and came up with the errant lady. + +"For heaven's sake be careful, Miss Wishart," he cried in alarm. +"That's an ugly black swirl down there." + +The girl laughed in his face. + +"Isn't the place glorious!" she cried. "It's as cool as winter, and +oh! the colours of that hillside. I'm going up to that birk-tree to +sit. Do you think I can do it?" + +"I am coming up after you," said Lewis. + +She stopped and regarded it with serious eyes. "It's hard, but I'm +going to try. It's harder than the Midburn that I climbed up on the +day I saw you fishing." + +She remembered! Joy caught at his heart, and he laughed so gladly that +Alice turned round to look at him. Something in his eyes made her turn +her head away and scan the birk-tree again. + +Then suddenly there was a slip of soil, a helpless clutch at fern and +heather, a cry of terror, and he was alone on the headland. The black +swirl was closing over the girl's head. + +He had been standing rapt in a happy fancy, his thoughts far in a world +of their own, and his eyes vacant of any purpose. Startled to +alertness, he still saw vaguely, and for a second stood irresolute and +wondering. Then came another splash, and a heavy body flung itself into +the pool from lower down the rock. He knew the black head and the round +shoulders of Mr. Stocks. + +The man caught the girl as she struggled to get out of the swirl and +with strong ugly strokes began to make for shore. Lewis stood with a +sick heart, slow to realize the horror which had overtaken him. She was +out of danger, though the man was swimming badly; dismally he noted the +fact of his atrocious swimming. But this was the hero; he had stood +irresolute. The thought burned him like a hot iron. + +Half a dozen pairs of hands relieved the swimmer of his burden. Alice +was little the worse, a trifle pale, very draggled and unhappy, and +utterly tired. Lady Manorwater wept over her and kissed her, and hailed +the dripping Stocks as her preserver. Lewis alone stood back. He +satisfied himself that she was unhurt, and then, on the plea of getting +the carriage, set off down the glen with a very grey, quivering face. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE PLEASURES OF A CONSCIENCE + + +It was half-way down the glen that the full ignominy of his position +came on Lewis with the shock of a thunder-clap. A hateful bitterness +against her preserver and the tricks of fate had been his solitary +feeling, till suddenly he realized the part he had played, and saw +himself for a naked coward. Coward he called himself--without +reflection; for in such a moment the mind thinks in crude colours and +bold lines of division. He set his teeth in his lip, and with a heart +sinking at the shameful thought stalked into the farm stables where the +Glenavelin servants were. + +He could not return to the Pool. Alice was little hurt, so anxiety was +needless; better let him leave Mr. Stocks to enjoy his heroics in +peace. He would find an excuse; meanwhile, give him quiet and solitude +to digest his bitterness. He cursed himself for the unworthiness of his +thoughts. What a pass had he come to when he grudged a little _kudos_ +to a rival, grudged it churlishly, childishly. He flung from him the +self-reproach. Other people would wonder at his ungenerousness, and his +sulky ill-nature. They would explain by the first easy discreditable +reason. What cared he for their opinion when he knew the far greater +shame in his heart? + +For as he strode up the woodland path to Etterick the wrappings of +surface passion fell off from his view of the past hour, and he saw the +bald and naked ribs of his own incapacity. It was a trivial incident to +the world, but to himself a momentous self-revelation. He was a +dreamer, a weakling, a fool. He had hesitated in a crisis, and another +had taken his place. A thousand incidents of ready courage in past +sport and travel were forgotten, and on this single slip the terrible +indictment was founded. And the reason is at hand; this weakness had at +last drawn near to his life's great passion. + +He found a deserted house, but its solitude was too noisy for his +unrest. Bidding the butler tell his friends that he had gone up the +hill, he crossed the sloping lawns and plunged into the thicket of +rhododendrons. Soon he was out on the heather, with the great slopes, +scorched with the heat, lying still and fragrant before him. He felt +sick and tired, and flung himself down amid the soft brackens. + +It was the man's first taste of bitter mental anguish. Hitherto his +life had been equable and pleasant; his friends had adored him; the +world had flattered him; he had been at peace with his own soul. He had +known his failings, but laughed at them cavalierly; he stood on a +different platform from the struggling, conscience-stricken herd. Now +he had in very truth been flung neck and crop from the pedestal of his +self-esteem; and he lay groaning in the dust of abasement. + +Wratislaw guessed with a friend's instinct his friend's disquietude, and +turned his steps to the hill when he had heard the butler's message. He +had known something of Lewis's imaginary self-upbraidings, and he was +prepared for them, but he was not prepared for the grey and wretched +face in the lee of the pinewood. A sudden suspicion that Lewis had been +guilty of some real dishonour flashed across his mind for the moment, +only to be driven out with scorn. + +"Lewie, my son, what the deuce is wrong with you?" he cried. + +The other looked at him with miserable eyes. + +"I am beginning to find out my rottenness." + +Wratislaw laughed in spite of himself. "What a fool to go making +psychological discoveries on such a day! Is it all over the little +misfortune at the pool?" + +Tragedy grew in Lewis's eyes. "Don't laugh, old chap. You don't know +what I did. I let her fall into the water, and then I stood staring and +let another man--the other man--save her." + +"Well, and what about that? He had a better chance than you. You +shouldn't grudge him his good fortune." + +"Good Lord, man, you don't think it's that that's troubling me! I felt +murderous, but it wasn't on his account." + +"Why not?" asked the older man drily. "You love the girl, and he's in +the running with you. What more?" + +Lewis groaned. "How can I talk about loving her when my love is such a +trifling thing that it doesn't nerve me to action? I tell you I love +her body and soul. I live for her. The whole world is full of her. +She is never a second out of my thoughts. And yet I am so little of a +man that I let her come near death and never try to save her." + +"But, confound it, man, it may have been mere absence of mind. You were +always an extraordinarily plucky chap." Wratislaw spoke irritably, for +it seemed to him sheer folly. + +Lewis looked at him imploringly. "Can you not understand?" he cried. + +Wratislaw did understand, and suddenly. The problem was subtler than he +had thought. Weakness was at the core of it, weakness revealed in +self-deception and self-accusation alike, the weakness of the finical +dreamer, the man with the unrobust conscience. But the weakness which +Lewis arraigned himself on was the very obvious failing of the diffident +and the irresolute. Wratislaw tried the path of boisterous +encouragement. + +"Get up, you old fool, and come down to the house. You a coward! You +are simply a romancer with an unfortunate knack of tragedy." The man +must be laughed out of this folly. If he were not he would show the +self-accusing front to the world, and the Manorwaters, Alice, +Stocks--all save his chosen intimates--would credit him with a cowardice +of which he had no taint. + +Arthur and George, resigned now to the inevitable lady, had seen in the +incident only the anxiety of a man for his beloved, and just a hint of +the ungenerous in his treatment of Mr. Stocks. They were not prepared +for the silent tragic figure which Wratislaw brought with him. + +Arthur had a glint of the truth, but the obtuse George saw nothing. "Do +you know that you are going to have the Wisharts for neighbours for a +couple of months yet? Old Wishart has taken Glenavelin from the end of +August." + +This would have been pleasant hearing at another time, but now it simply +drove home the nail of his bitter reflections. Alice would be near him, +a terrible reproach--she, the devotee of strength and competence. He +could not win her, and it is characteristic of the man that he had +ceased to think of Mr. Stocks as his rival. He would lose her to no +rival; to his ragged incapacity alone would his ill fortune be due. + +He struggled to act the part of the cheerful host, and Wratislaw watched +his efforts grimly. He ate little at dinner, showed no desire to smoke, +and played billiards so badly that Wratislaw, an execrable player, won +the first and last game of his life. The victor took him out of doors +thereafter to walk on the moonlit, fragrant lawn. + +"You are taking things to heart," said he. + +"And I'm blessed if I can understand you. To me it's sheer mania." + +"And to me it's the last link in a chain. I have suspected myself for +long, now I know myself and--ugh! the knowledge is a hideous thing." + +Wratislaw stood regarding his companion seriously. "I wonder what will +happen to you, Lewie. Life is serious enough without inventing a +crotchety virtue to make it miserable." + +"Can't you understand me, Tommy? It isn't that I'm a cad, it's that I +am a coward. I couldn't be a cad supposing I tried. These things are a +matter chiefly of blood and bone, and I am not made that way. But God +help me! I am a coward. I can't fight worth twopence. Look at my +performance a fortnight ago. The ordinary gardener's boy can beat me at +making love. I am full of generous impulses and sentiments, but what's +the use of them? Everything grows cold and I am a dumb icicle when it +comes to action. I knew all this before, but I thought I had kept my +bodily courage. I've had a good enough training, and I used to have +pluck." + +"But you don't mean to tell me that it was funk that kept you out of the +pool to-day?" cried the impatient Wratislaw. + +"How do I know that it wasn't?" came the wretched answer. + +Wratislaw turned on his heel and made to go back. + +"You're an infernal idiot, Lewie, and an infernal child. Thank heaven! +your friends know you better than you know yourself." + +The next morning it was a different man who came down to breakfast. He +had lost his haggard air, and seemed to have forgotten the night's +episode. + +"Was I very rude to everybody last night?" he asked. "I have a vague +recollection of playing the fool." + +"You were particularly rude about yourself," said Wratislaw. + +The young man laughed. "It's a way I have sometimes. It's an awkward +thing when a man's foes are of his own household." + +The others seemed to see a catch in his mirth, a ring as of something +hollow. He opened some letters, and looked up from one with a twitching +face and a curious droop of the eyelids. "Miss Wishart is all right," +he said. "My aunt says that she is none the worse, but that Stocks has +caught a tremendous cold. An unromantic ending!" + +The meal ended, they wandered out to the lawn to smoke, and Wratislaw +found himself standing with a hand on his host's shoulder. He noticed +something distraught in his glance and air. + +"Are you fit again to-day?" he asked. + +"Quite fit, thanks," said Lewis, but his face belied him. He had +forgiven himself the incident of yesterday, but no proof of a non +sequitur could make him relinquish his dismal verdict. The wide morning +landscape lay green and soothing at his feet. Down in the glen men were +winning the bog-hay; up on the hill slopes they were driving lambs; the +Avelin hurried to the Gled, and beyond was the great ocean and the +infinite works of man. The whole brave bustling world was astir, little +and great ships hasting out of port, the soldier scaling the breach, the +adventurer travelling the deserts. And he, the fool, had no share in +this braggart heritage. He could not dare to look a man straight in the +face, for like the king in the old fable he had lost his soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A GENTLEMAN IN STRAITS + + +The fall of the leaf found Etterick very full of people, and new +dwellers in Glenavelin. The invitations were of old standing, but Lewis +found their fulfilment a pleasant trick of Fortune's. To keep a +bustling household in good spirits leaves small room for brooding, and +he was famous for his hospitality. The partridges were plentiful that +year, and a rainless autumn had come on the heels of a fine summer. So +life went pleasantly with all, and the master of the place cloaked a +very sick heart under a ready good-humour. + +His thoughts were always on Glenavelin, and when he happened to be near +it he used to look with anxious eyes for a slim figure which was rarely +out of his fancy. He had not seen Alice since the accident, save for +one short minute, when riding from Gledsmuir he had passed her one +afternoon at the Glenavelin gates. He had earnestly desired to stop, +but his curious cowardice had made him pass with a lifted hat and a +hasty smile. Could he have looked back, he might have seen the girl +watching him out of sight with tearful eyes. To himself he was the +hopeless lover, and she the scornful lady, while she in her own eyes was +the unhappy girl for whom the soldier in the song shakes his bridle +reins and cries an eternal adieu. + +Matters did not improve when the Manorwaters left and Mr. Wishart +himself came down, bringing with him Stocks, a certain Mr. Andrews and +his wife, and an excellent young man called Thompson. All were pleasant +people, with the manners which the world calls hearty, well-groomed, +presentable folk, who enjoyed this life and looked forward to a better. + +Mr. Wishart explored the place thoroughly the first evening, and +explained that he was thankful indeed that he had been led to take it. +He was a handsome man with a worn, elderly face, a square jaw and +somewhat weary eyes. It is given to few men to make a great fortune and +not bear the signs of it on their persons. + +"I expect you enjoyed staying with Lady Manorwater, Alice?" Mrs. +Andrews declared at dinner. "They are very plain people, aren't they, +to be such great aristocrats? + +"I suppose so," said the girl listlessly. + +"I once met Lady Manorwater at Mrs. Cookson's at afternoon tea. I +thought she was badly dressed. You know Manorwater, don't you, George?" +said the lady to her husband, with the boldness which comes from the use +of a peer's name without the handle. + +"Oh yes, I know him well. I have met him at the Liberal Club dinners, +and I was his chairman once when he spoke on Irish affairs. A +delightful man!" + +"I suppose they would have a pleasant house-party when you were here, my +dear?" asked the lady. "And of course you had the election. What fun! +And what a victory for you, Mr. Stocks! I hear you beat the greatest +landowner in the district." + +Mr. Stocks smiled and glanced at Alice. The girl flushed; she could +not help it; and she hated Mr. Stocks for his look. + +Her father spoke for the first time. "What is the young man like, Mr. +Stocks? I hear he is very proud and foolish, the sort of over-educated +type which the world has no use for." + +"I like him," said Mr. Stocks dishonestly. "He fought like a +gentleman." + +"These people are so rarely gentlemen," said Mrs. Andrews, proud of her +high attitude. "I suppose his father made his money in coal and bought +the land from some poor dear old aristocrat. It is so sad to think of +it. And that sort of person is always over-educated, for you see they +have not the spirit of the old families and they bury themselves in +books." Mrs. Andrews's father had kept a crockery shop, but his +daughter had buried the memory. + +Mr. Wishart frowned. The lady had been asked down for her husband's +sake, and he did not approve of this chatter about family. Mr. Stocks, +who was about to explain the Haystoun pedigree, caught his host's eye +and left the dangerous subject untouched. + +"You said in your letters that they had been kind to you at this young +man's place. We must ask him down here to dinner, Alice. Oh, and that +reminds me I found a letter from him to-day asking me to shoot. I don't +go in for that sort of thing, but you young fellows had better try it." + +Mr. Stocks declined, said he had given it up. Mr. Thompson said, +"Upon my word I should like to," and privately vowed to forget the +invitation. He distrusted his prowess with a gun. + +"By the by, was he not at the picnic when you saved my daughter's life? +I can never thank you enough, Stocks. What should I have done without +my small girl?" + +"Yes, he was there. In fact he was with Miss Alice at the moment she +slipped." + +He may not have meant it, but the imputation was clear, and it stirred +one fiery expostulation. "Oh, but he hadn't time before Mr. Stocks +came after me," she began, and then feeling it ungracious towards that +gentleman to make him share a possibility of heroism with another, she +was silent. More, a lurking fear which had never grown large enough for +a suspicion, began to catch at her heart. Was it possible that Lewis +had held back? + +For a moment the candle-lit room vanished from her eyes. She saw the +warm ledge of rock with the rowan berries above. She saw his flushed, +eager face--it was her last memory before she had fallen. Surely +never--never was there cowardice in those eyes! + +Mrs. Andrews's vulgarities and her husband's vain repetitions began to +pall upon the anxious girl. The young Mr. Thompson talked shrewdly +enough on things of business, and Mr. Stocks abated something of his +pomposity and was honestly amiable. These were her own people, the +workers for whom she had craved. And yet--were they so desirable? Her +father's grave, keen face pleased her always, but what of the others? +The radiant gentlewomen whom she had met with the Manorwaters seemed to +belong to another world than this of petty social struggling and awkward +ostentation. And the men! Doubtless they were foolish, dilettanti, +barbarians of sport, half-hearted and unpractical! And she shut her +heart to any voice which would defend them. + +Lewis drove over to dine some four days later with dismal presentiments. +The same hopeless self-contempt which had hung over him for weeks was +still weighing on his soul. He dreaded the verdict of Alice's eyes, and +in a heart which held only kindness he looked for a cold criticism. It +was this despair which made his position hopeless. He would never take +his chance; there could be no opportunity for the truth to become clear +to both; for in his plate-armour of despair he was shielded against the +world. Such was his condition to the eyes of a friend; to himself he +was the common hopeless lover who sighed for a stony mistress. + +He noticed changes in Glenavelin. Businesslike leather pouches stood in +the hall, and an unwontedly large pile of letters lay on a table. The +drawing-room was the same as ever, but in the dining-room an escritoire +had been established which groaned under a burden of papers. Mr. +Wishart puzzled and repelled him. It was a strong face, but a cold and +a stupid one, and his eyes had the glassy hardness of the man without +vision. He was bidden welcome, and thanked in a tactless way for his +kindness to Mr. Wishart's daughter. Then he was presented to Mrs. +Andrews, and his courage sank as he bowed to her. + +At table the lady twitted him with graceful badinage. "Alice and you +must have had a gay time, Mr. Haystoun. Why, you've been seeing each +other constantly for months. Have you become great friends?" She +exerted herself, for, though he might be a parvenu, he was undeniably +handsome. + +Mr. Stocks explained that Mr. Haystoun had organized wonderful picnic +parties. The lady clapped her many-ringed hands, and declared that he +must repeat the experiment. "For I love picnics," she said, "I love the +simplicity and the fresh air and the rippling streams. And washing up +is fun, and it is such a great chance for you young men." And she cast a +coy glance over her shoulder. + +"Do you live far off, Mr. Haystoun?" she asked repeatedly. "Four +miles? Oh, that's next door. We shall come and see you some day. We +have just been staying with the Marshams--Mr. Marsham, you know, the +big cotton people. Very vulgar, but the house is charming. It was so +exciting, for the elections were on, and the Hestons, who are the great +people in that part of the country, were always calling. Dear Lady +Julia is so clever. Did you ever meet Mr. Marsham, by any chance?" + +"Not that I remember. I know the Hestons of course. Julia is my +cousin." + +The lady was silenced. "But I thought," she murmured. "I thought--they +were--" She broke off with a cough. + +"Yes, I spent a good many of my school holidays at Heston." + +Alice broke in with a question about the Manorwaters. The youthful Mr. +Thompson, who, apart from his solicitor's profession, was a devotee of +cricket, asked in a lofty way if Mr. Haystoun cared for the game. + +"I do rather. I'm not very good, but we raised an eleven this year in +the glen which beat Gledsmuir." + +The notion pleased the gentleman. If a second match could be arranged +he might play and show his prowess. In all likelihood this solemn and +bookish laird, presumably brought up at home, would be a poor enough +player. + +"I played a lot at school," he said. "In fact I was in the Eleven for +two years and I played in the Authentics match, and once against the +Eton Ramblers. A strong lot they were." + +"Let me see. Was that about seven years ago? I seem to remember." + +"Seven years ago," said Mr. Thompson. "But why? Did you see the +match?" + +"No, I wasn't in the match; I had twisted my ankle, jumping. But I +captained the Ramblers that season, so I remember it." + +Respect grew large in Mr. Thompson's eyes. Here were modesty and +distinction equally mated. The picture of the shy student had gone from +his memory. + +"If you like to come up to Etterick we might get up a match from the +village," said Lewis courteously. "Ourselves with the foresters and +keepers against the villagers wouldn't be a bad arrangement." + +To Alice the whole conversation struck a jarring note. His eye kindled +and he talked freely on sport. Was it not but a new token of his +incurable levity? Mr. Wishart, who had understood little of the talk, +found in this young man strange stuff to shape to a politician's ends. +Contrasted with the gravity of Mr. Stocks, it was a schoolboy beside a +master. + +"I have been reading," he said slowly, "reading a speech of the new +Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I cannot understand the temper of +mind which it illustrates. He talks of the Bosnian war, and a brave +people struggling for freedom, as if it were merely a move in some +hideous diplomatists' game. A man of that sort cannot understand a +moral purpose." + +"Tommy--I mean to say Mr. Wratislaw--doesn't believe in Bosnian +freedom, but you know he is a most ardent moralist." + +"I do not understand," said Mr. Wishart drily. + +"I mean that personally he is a Puritan, a man who tries every action of +his life by a moral standard. But he believes that moral standards vary +with circumstances." + +"Pernicious stuff, sir. There is one moral law. There is one Table of +Commandments." + +"But surely you must translate the Commandments into the language of the +occasion. You do not believe that 'Thou shalt not kill' is absolute in +every case?" + +"I mean that except in the God-appointed necessity of war, and in the +serving of criminal justice, killing is murder." + +"Suppose a man goes travelling," said Lewis with abstracted eyes, "and +has a lot of native servants. They mutiny, and he shoots down one or +two. He saves his life, he serves, probably, the ends of civilization. +Do you call that murder?" + +"Assuredly. Better, far better that he should perish in the wilderness +than that he should take the law into his own hands and kill one of +God's creatures." + +"But law, you know, is not an absolute word." + +Mr. Wishart scented danger. "I can't argue against your subtleties, +but my mind is clear; and I can respect no man who could think +otherwise." + +Lewis reddened and looked appealingly at Alice. She, too, was +uncomfortable. Her opinions sounded less convincing when stated +dogmatically by her father. + +Mr. Stocks saw his chance and took it. + +"Did you ever happen to be in such a crisis as you speak of, Mr. +Haystoun? You have travelled a great deal." + +"I have never had occasion to put a man to death," said Lewis, seeing +the snare and scorning to avoid it. + +"But you have had difficulties?" + +"Once I had to flog a couple of men. It was not pleasant, and worst of +all it did no good." + +"Irrational violence seldom does," grunted Mr. Wishart. + +"No, for, as I was going to say, it was a clear case where the men +should have been put to death. They had deserved it, for they had +disobeyed me, and by their disobedience caused the death of several +innocent people. They decamped shortly afterwards, and all but managed +to block our path. I blame myself still for not hanging them." + +A deep silence hung over the table. Mr. Wishart and the Andrews stared +with uncomprehending faces. Mr. Stocks studied his plate, and Alice +looked on the speaker with eyes in which unwilling respect strove with +consternation. + +Only the culprit was at his ease. The discomfort of these good people +for a moment amused him. Then the sight of Alice's face, which he +wholly misread, brought him back to decent manners. + +"I am afraid I have shocked you," he said simply. "If one knocks about +the world one gets a different point of view." + +Mr. Wishart restrained a flood of indignation with an effort. "We +won't speak on the subject," he said. "I confess I have my prejudices." + +Mr. Stocks assented with a smile and a sigh. In the drawing-room +afterwards Lewis was presented with the olive-branch of peace. He had +to attend Mrs. Andrews to the piano and listen to her singing of a +sentimental ballad with the face of a man in the process of enjoyment. +Soon he pleaded the four miles of distance and the dark night, and took +his leave. His spirits had in a measure returned. Alice had not been +gracious, but she had shown no scorn. And her spell at the first sight +of her was woven a thousand-fold over his heart. + +He found her alone for one moment in the hall. + +"Alice--Miss Wishart, may I come and see you? It is a pity such near +neighbours should see so little of each other." + +His hesitation made him cloak a despairing request in the garb of a +conventional farewell. + +The girl had the sense to pierce the disguise. "You may come and see +us, if you like, Mr. Haystoun. We shall be at home all next week." + +"I shall come very soon," he cried, and he was whirled away from the +light; with the girl's face framed in the arch of the doorway making a +picture for his memory. + + * * * * * + +When the others had gone to bed, Stocks and Mr. Wishart sat up over a +last pipe by the smoking-room fire. + +The younger man moved uneasily in his chair. He had something to say +which had long lain on his mind, and he was uncertain of its reception. + +"You have been for a long time my friend, Mr. Wishart," he began. "You +have done me a thousand kindnesses, and I only hope I have not proved +myself unworthy of them." + +Mr. Wishart raised his eyebrows at the peculiar words. "Certainly you +have not," he said. "I regard you as the most promising by far of the +younger men of my acquaintance, and any little services I may have +rendered have been amply repaid me." + +The younger man bowed and looked into the fire. + +"It is very kind of you to speak so," he said. "I have been wondering +whether I might not ask for a further kindness, the greatest favour +which you could confer upon me. Have you made any plans for your +daughter's future?" + +Mr. Wishart sat up stiffly on the instant. "You mean?" he said. + +"I mean that I love Alice ... your daughter ... and I wish to make +her my wife. If you will give me your consent, I will ask her." + +"But--but," said the old man, stammering. "Does the girl know anything +of this?" + +"She knows that I love her, and I think she will not be unkind." + +"I don't know that I object," said Mr. Wishart after a long pause. "In +fact I am very willing, and I am very glad that you had the good manners +to speak to me first. Yes, upon my word, sir, I am pleased. You have +had a creditable career, and your future promises well. My girl will +help you, for though I say it, she will not be ill-provided for. I +respect your character and I admire your principles, and I give you my +heartiest good wishes." + +Mr. Stocks rose and held out his hand. He felt that the interview +could not be prolonged in the present fervour of gratitude. + +"Had it been that young Haystoun now," said Mr. Wishart, "I should +never have given my consent. I resolved long ago that my daughter +should never marry an idle man. I am a plain man, and I care nothing +for social distinctions." + +But as Mr. Stocks left the room the plain man glanced after him, and +sitting back suffered a moment's reflection. The form of this worker +contrasted in his mind with the figure of the idler who had that evening +graced his table. A fool, doubtless, but a fool with an air and a +manner! And for one second he allowed himself to regret that he was to +acquire so unromantic a son-in-law. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE NEMESIS OF A COWARD + + +Two days later the Andrews drove up the glen to Etterick, taking with +them the unwilling Mr. Wishart. Alice had escaped the ordeal with some +feigned excuse, and the unfortunate Mr. Thompson, deeply grieving, had +been summoned by telegram from cricket to law. The lady had chattered +all the way up the winding moorland road, crying out banalities about +the pretty landscape, or questioning her very ignorant companions about +the dwellers in Etterick. She was full of praises for the house when it +came in view; it was "quaint," it was "charming," it was everything +inappropriate. But the amiable woman's prattle deserted her when she +found herself in the cold stone hall with the great portraits and the +lack of all modern frippery. It was so plainly a man's house, so +clearly a place of tradition, that her pert modern speech seemed for one +moment a fatuity. + +It was an off-day for the shooters, and so for a miracle there were men +in the drawing-room at tea-time. The hostess for the time was an aunt +of Lewis's, a certain Mrs. Alderson, whose husband (the famous big-game +hunter) had but recently returned from the jaws of a Zambesi lion. +George's sister, Lady Clanroyden, a tall, handsome girl in a white +frock, was arranging flowers in a bowl, and on the sill of the open +window two men were basking in the sun. From the inner drawing-room +there came an echo of voices and laughter. The whole scene was sunny +and cheerful, youth and age, gay frocks and pleasant faces amid the old +tapestry and mahogany of a moorland house. + +Mr. Andrews sat down solemnly to talk of the weather with the two men, +who found him a little dismal. One--he of the Zambesi lion episode--was +grizzled, phlegmatic, and patient, and in no way critical of his +company. So soon he was embarked on extracts from his own experience to +which Mr. Andrews, who had shares in some company in the neighbourhood, +listened with flattering attention. Mrs. Alderson set herself to +entertain Mr. Wishart, and being a kindly, simple person, found the +task easy. They were soon engaged in an earnest discussion of +unsectarian charities. + +Lady Clanroyden, with an unwilling sense of duty, devoted herself to +Mrs. Andrews. That simpering matron fell into a vein of confidences +and in five brief minutes had laid bare her heart. Then came the +narrative of her recent visit to the Marshams, and the inevitable +mention of the Hestons. + +"Oh, you know the Hestons?" said Lady Clanroyden, brightening. + +"Very well indeed." The lady smiled, looking round to make sure that +Lewis was not in the room. + +"Julia is here, you know. Julia, come and speak to your friends." + +A dark girl in mourning came forward to meet the expansive smile of Mrs. +Andrews. Earnestly the lady hoped that she remembered the single brief +meeting on which she had built a fictitious acquaintance, and was +reassured when the newcomer shook hands with her pleasantly. Truth to +tell, Lady Julia had no remembrance of her face, but was too +good-natured to be honest. + +"And how is your dear mother? I was so sorry to hear from a mutual +friend that she had been unwell." How thankful she was that she read +each week various papers which reported people's doings! + +A sense of bewilderment lurked in her heart. Who was this Lewis +Haystoun who owned such a house and such a kindred? The hypothesis of +money made in coal seemed insufficient, and with much curiosity she set +herself to solve the problem. + +"Is Mr. Haystoun coming back to tea?" she asked by way of a preface. + +"No, he has had to go to Gledsmuir. We are all idle this afternoon, but +he has a landowner's responsibilities." + +"Have his family been here long? I seem never to have heard the name." + +Lady Clanroyden looked a little surprised. "Yes, they have been rather +a while. I forget how many centuries, but a good many. It was about +this place, you know, that the old ballad of 'The Riding of Etterick' +was made, and a Haystoun was the hero." + +Mrs. Andrews knew nothing about old ballads, but she feigned a happy +reminiscence. + +"It is so sad his being beaten by Mr. Stocks," she declared. "Of +course an old county family should provide the members for a district. +They have the hearts of the people with them." + +"Then the hearts of the people have a funny way of revealing +themselves," Lady Clanroyden laughed. "I'm not at all sorry that Lewie +was beaten. He is the best man in the world, but one wants to shake him +up. His motto is 'Thole,' and he gets too few opportunities of +'tholing.'" + +"You all call him 'Lewie,'" commented the lady. "How popular he must +be!" + +Mabel Clanroyden laughed. "I have known him ever since I was a small +girl in a short frock and straight-brushed hair. He was never anything +else than Lewie to his friends. Oh, here is my wandering brother and my +only son returned," and she rose to catch up a small, self-possessed boy +of some six years, who led the flushed and reluctant George in tow. + +The small boy was very dirty, ruddy and cheerful. He had torn his +blouse, and scratched his brow, and the crown of his straw hat had +parted company with the brim. + +"George," said his sister severely, "have you been corrupting the +manners of my son? Where have you been?" + +The boy--he rejoiced in the sounding name of Archibald--slapped a small +leg with a miniature whip, and counterfeited with great skill the pose +of the stable-yard. He slowly unclenched a smutty fist and revealed +three separate shillings. + +"I won um myself," he explained. + +"Is it highway robbery?" asked his mother with horrified eyes. +"Archibald, have you stopped a coach, or held up a bus or anything of +the kind?" + +The child unclenched his hand again, beamed on his prize, smiled +knowingly at the world, and shut it. + +"What has the dreadful boy been after? Oh, tell me, George, please. I +will try to bear it." + +"We fell in with a Sunday-school picnic along in the glen, and Archie +made me take him there. And he had tea--I hope the little chap won't be +ill, by the by. And he made a speech or a recitation or something of +the sort. Nobody understood it, but it went down like anything." + +"And do you mean to say that the people gave him money, and you allowed +him to take it?" asked an outraged mother. + +"He won it," said George. "Won it in fair fight. He was second in the +race under twelve, and first in the race under ten. They gave him a +decent handicap, and he simply romped home. That chap can run, Mabel. +He tried the sack race, too, but the first time he slipped altogether +inside the thing and had to be taken out, yelling. But he stuck to it +like a Trojan, and at the second shot he got started all right, and +would have won it if he hadn't lost his head and rolled down a bank. He +isn't scratched much, considering he fell among whins. That also +explains the state of his hat." + +"George, you shall never, never, as long as I live, take my son out with +you again. It is a wonder the poor child escaped with his life. You +have not a scrap of feeling. I must take the boy away or he will shame +me before everybody. Come and talk to Mrs. Andrews, George. May I +introduce my brother, Mr. Winterham?" + +George, who wanted to smoke, sat down unwillingly in the chair which his +sister had left. The lady, whose airs and graces were all for men, put +on her most bewitching manner. + +"Your sister and I have just been talking about this exquisite place, +Mr. Winterham. It must be delightful to live in such a centre of old +romance. That lovely 'Riding of Etterick' has been running in my head +all the way up." + +George privately wondered at the confession. The peculiarly tragic and +ghastly fragments which made up "The Riding of Etterick," seemed +scarcely suited to haunt a lady's memory. + +"Had you a long drive?" he asked in despair for a topic. + +"Only from Glenavelin." + +He awoke to interest. "Are you staying at Glenavelin just now? The +Wisharts are in it, are they not? We were a great deal about the place +when the Manorwaters were there." + +"Oh yes. I have heard about Lady Manorwater from Alice Wishart. She +must be a charming woman; Alice cannot speak enough about her." + +George's face brightened. "Miss Wishart is a great friend of mine, and +a most awfully good sort." + +"And as you are a great friend of hers I think I may tell you a great +secret," and the lady patted him playfully. "Our pretty Alice is going +to be married." + +George was thoroughly roused to attention. "Who is the man?" he asked +sharply. + +"I think I may tell you," said Mrs. Andrews, enjoying her sense of +importance. "It is Mr. Stocks, the new member." + +George restrained with difficulty a very natural oath. Then he looked +at his informant and saw in her face only silliness and truth. For the +good woman had indeed persuaded herself of the verity of her fancy. Mr. +Stocks had told her that he had her father's consent and good wishes, +and misinterpreting the girl's manner she had considered the affair +settled. + +It was unfortunate that Mr. Wishart at this moment showed such obvious +signs of restlessness that the lady rose to take her leave, otherwise +George might have learned the truth. After the Glenavelin party had +gone he wandered out to the lawn, pulling his moustache in vast +perplexity and cursing the twisted world. He had no guess at Lewis's +manner of wooing; to him it had seemed the simple, straightforward love +which he thought beyond resistance. And now, when he learned of this +melancholy issue, he was sore at heart for his friend. + +He was awakened from his reverie by Lewis himself, who, having ridden +straight to the stables, was now sauntering towards the house. A trim +man looks at his best in riding clothes, and Lewis was no exception. He +was flushed with sun and motion, his spirits were high, for all the +journey he had been dreaming of a coming meeting with Alice, and the +hope which had suddenly increased a thousand-fold. George marked his +mood, and with a regret at his new role caught him by the arm and +checked him. + +"I say, old man, don't go in just yet. I want to tell you something, +and I think you had better hear it now." + +Lewis turned obediently, amazed by the gravity of his friend's face. + +"Some people came up from Glenavelin this afternoon and among them a +Mrs. Andrews, whom I had a talk to. She told me that Al--Miss Wishart +is engaged to that fellow Stocks." + +Lewis's face whitened and he turned away his eyes. He could not credit +it. Two days ago she had been free; he could swear it; he remembered +her eyes at parting. Then came the thought of his blindness, and in a +great horror of self-mistrust he seemed to see throughout it all his +criminal folly. He, poor fool, had been pleasing himself with dreams of +a meeting, when all the while the other man had been the real lover. +She had despised him, spared not a thought for him save as a pleasing +idler; and he--that he should ever have ventured for one second to hope! +Curiously enough, for the first time he thought of Stocks with respect; +to have won the girl seemed in itself the proof of dignity and worth. + +"Thanks very much for telling me. I am glad I know. No, I don't think +I'll go into the house yet." + + * * * * * + +The days passed and Alice waited with anxious heart for the coming of +the very laggard Lewis. To-day he will come, she said each morning; and +evening found her--poor heart!--still expectant. She told herself a +thousand times that it was sheer folly. He meant nothing, it was a mere +fashion of speech; and then her heart would revolt and bid common sense +be silent. He came indeed with some of the Etterick party on a formal +call, but this was clearly not the fulfilment of his promise. So the +girl waited and despaired, while the truant at Etterick was breaking his +heart for the unattainable. + +Mr. Stocks, having won the official consent, conducted his suit with +commendable discretion. Suit is the word for the performance, so full +was it of elaborate punctilios. He never intruded upon her unhappiness. +A studied courtesy, a distant thoughtfulness were his only compliments. +But when he found her gayer, then would he strive with subtle delicacies +of manner to make clear the part he desired to play. + +The girl saw his kindness and was grateful. In the revulsion against +the Andrews he seemed a link with the more pleasant sides of life, and +soon in her despair and anger his modest merits took heroic proportions +in her eyes. She forgot her past dislike; she thought only of this, the +simple good man, contrasted with the showy and fickle-hearted--true +metal against glittering tinsel. His very weaknesses seemed homely and +venial. He was of her own world, akin to the things which deep down in +her soul she knew she must love to the last. It is to the credit of the +man's insight that he saw the mood and took pains to foster it. + +Twice he asked her to marry him. The first time her heart was still +sore with disappointment and she refused--yet half-heartedly. + +He waited his time and when the natural cheerfulness of her temper was +beginning to rise, he again tried his fortune. + +"I cannot," she cried. "I cannot. I like you very much, but oh, it is +too much to ask me to marry you." + +"But I love you with all my heart, Alice." And the honesty of his tone +and the distant thought of a very different hope brought the tears to +her eyes. + +He had forgotten all pompous dreams and the stilted prospects with which +he had aforetime hoped to beguile his wife. The man was plain and +simple now, a being very much on fire with an honest passion. He may +have left her love-cold, but he touched the sympathy which in a true +woman is love's nearest neighbour. Before she knew herself she had +promised, and had been kissed respectfully and tenderly by her delighted +lover. For a moment she felt something like joy, and then, with a +dreadful thought of the baselessness of her pleasure, walked slowly +homewards by his side. + + * * * * * + +The next morning Alice rose with a dreary sense of the irrevocable. A +door seemed to have closed behind her, and the future stretched before +her in a straight dusty path with few nooks and shadows. This was not +the blithe morning of betrothal she had looked for. The rapturous +outlook on life which she had dreamed of was replaced by a cold and +business-like calculation of profits. The rose garden of the "god +unconquered in battle" was exchanged for a very shoddy and huckstering +paradise. + +Mrs. Andrews claimed her company all the morning, and with the +pertinacity of her kind soon guessed the very obvious secret. Her +gushing congratulations drove the girl distracted. She praised the good +Stocks, and Alice drank in the comfort of such words with greedy ears. +From one young man she passed to another, and hung lovingly over the +perfections of Mr. Haystoun. "He has the real distinction, dear," she +cried, "which you can never mistake. It only belongs to old blood and +it is quite inimitable. His friends are so charming, too, and you can +always tell a man by his people. It is so pleasant to fall in with old +acquaintances again. That dear Lady Clanroyden promised to come over +soon. I quite long to see her, for I feel as if I had known her for +ages." + +After lunch Alice fled the house and sought her old refuge--the hills. +There she would find the deep solitude for thought. She was not +broken-hearted, though she grieved now and again with a blind longing of +regret. But she was confused and shaken; the landmarks of her vision +seemed to have been removed, and she had to face the grim narrowing-down +of hopes which is the sternest trial for poor mortality. + +Autumn's hand was lying heavy on the hillsides. Bracken was yellowing, +heather passing from bloom, and the clumps of wild-wood taking the soft +russet and purple of decline. Faint odours of wood smoke seemed to flit +over the moor, and the sharp lines of the hill fastnesses were drawn as +with a graving-tool against the sky. She resolved to go to the Midburn +and climb up the cleft, for the place was still a centre of memory. So +she kept for a mile to the Etterick road, till she came in view of the +little stone bridge where the highway spans the moorland waters. + +There had been intruders in Paradise before her. Broken bottles and +scraps of paper were defacing the hill turf, and when she turned to get +to the water's edge she found the rushy coverts trampled on every side. +From somewhere among the trees came the sound of singing--a silly +music-hall catch. It was a sharp surprise, and the girl, in horror at +the profanation, was turning in all haste to leave. + +But the Fates had prepared an adventure. Three half-tipsy men came +swinging down the slope, their arms linked together, and bowlers set +rakishly on the backs of their heads. They kept up the chorus of the +song which was being sung elsewhere, and they suited their rolling gait +to the measure. + +"For it ain't Maria," came the tender melody; and the reassuring phrase +was repeated a dozen times. Then by ill-luck they caught sight of the +astonished Alice, and dropping their musical efforts they hailed her +familiarly. Clearly they were the stragglers of some picnic from the +town, the engaging type of gentleman who on such occasions is drunk by +midday. They were dressed in ill-fitting Sunday clothes, great flowers +beamed from their button-holes, and after the fashion of their kind +their waistcoats were unbuttoned for comfort. The girl tried to go back +by the way she had come, but to her horror she found that she was +intercepted. The three gentlemen commanded her retreat. + +They seemed comparatively sober, so she tried entreaty. "Please, let me +pass," she said pleasantly. "I find I have taken the wrong road." + +"No, you haven't, dearie," said one of the men, who from a superior +neatness of apparel might have been a clerk. "You've come the right +road, for you've met us. And now you're not going away." And he came +forward with a protecting arm. + +Alice, genuinely frightened, tried to cross the stream and escape by the +other side. But the crossing was difficult, and she slipped at the +outset and wet her ankles. One of the three lurched into the water +after her, and withdrew with sundry oaths. + +The poor girl was in sad perplexity. Before was an ugly rush of water +and a leap beyond her strength; behind, three drunken men, their mouths +full of endearment and scurrility. She looked despairingly to the level +white road for the Perseus who should deliver her. + +And to her joy the deliverer was not wanting. In the thick of the idiot +shouting of the trio there came the clink-clank of a horse's feet and a +young man came over the bridge. He saw the picture at a glance and its +meaning; and it took him short time to be on his feet and then over the +broken stone wall to the waterside. Suddenly to the girl's delight +there appeared at the back of the roughs the inquiring, sunburnt face of +Lewis. + +The men turned and stared with hanging jaws. "Now, what the dickens is +this?" he cried, and catching two of their necks he pulled their heads +together and then flung them apart. + +The three seemed sobered by the apparition. "And what the h-ll is your +business?" they cried conjointly; and one, a dark-browed fellow, doubled +his fists and advanced. + +Lewis stood regarding them with a smiling face and very bright, cross +eyes. "Are you by way of insulting this lady? If you weren't drunk, +I'd teach you manners. Get out of this in case I forget myself." + +For answer the foremost of the men hit out. A glance convinced Lewis +that there was enough sobriety to make a fight of it. "Miss +Wishart ... Alice," he cried, "come back and go down to the road +and see to my horse, please. I'll be down in a second." + +The girl obeyed, and so it fell out that there was no witness to that +burn-side encounter. It was a complex fight and it lasted for more than +a second. Two of the men had the grace to feel ashamed of themselves +half-way through, and retired from the contest with shaky limbs and +aching faces. The third had to be assisted to his feet in the end by +his antagonist. It was not a good fight, for the three were +pasty-faced, overgrown young men, in no training and stupid with liquor. +But they pressed hard on Lewis for a little, till he was compelled in +self-defence to treat them as fair opponents. + +He came down the road in a quarter of an hour with a huge rent in his +coat-sleeve and a small cut on his forehead. He was warm and +breathless, still righteously indignant at the event, and half-ashamed +of so degrading an encounter. He found the girl standing statue-like, +holding the bridle-rein, and looking into the distance with vacant eyes. + +"Are you going back to Glenavelin, Miss Wishart?" he asked. "I think I +had better go with you if you will allow me." + +Alice mutely assented and walked beside him while he led his horse. He +could think of nothing to say. The whole world lay between them now, +and there was no single word which either could speak without showing +some trace of the tragic separation. + +It was the girl who first broke the silence. + +"I want to thank you with all my heart," she stammered. And then by an +awkward intuition she looked in his face and saw written there all the +hopelessness and longing which he was striving to conceal. For one +moment she saw clearly, and then the crooked perplexities of the world +seemed to stare cruelly in her eyes. A sob caught her voice, and before +she was conscious of her action she laid a hand on Lewis's arm and burst +into tears. + +The sight was so unexpected that it deprived him of all power of action. +Then came the fatally easy solution that it was but reaction of +over-strained nerves. Always ill at ease in a woman's presence, a +woman's tears reduced him to despair. He stroked her hair gently as he +would have quieted a favourite horse. + +"I am so sorry that these brutes have frightened you. But here we are +at Glenavelin gates." + +And all the while his heart was crying out to him to clasp her in his +arms, and the words which trembled on his tongue were the passionate +consolations of a lover. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A MOVEMENT OF THE POWERS + + +At Mrs. Montrayner's dinner parties a world of silent men is sandwiched +between a _monde_ of chattering women. The hostess has a taste for busy +celebrities who eat their dinner without thought of the cookery, and +regard their fair neighbours much as the diners think of the band in a +restaurant. She chose her company with care, and if at her table there +was not the busy clack of a fluent conversation, there was always the +possibility of _bons mots_ and the off-chance of a State secret. So to +have dined with the Montrayners became a boast in a small social set, +and to the unilluminate the Montrayner banquets seemed scarce less +momentous than Cabinet meetings. + +Wratislaw found himself staring dully at a snowy bank of flowers and +looking listlessly at the faces beyond. He was extremely worried, and +his grey face and sunken eyes showed the labour he had been passing +through. The country was approaching the throes of a crisis, and as yet +the future was a blind alley to him. There was an autumn session, and +he had been badgered all the afternoon in the Commons; his even temper +had been perilously near its limits, and he had been betrayed +unconsciously into certain ineptitudes which he knew would grin in his +face on the morrow from a dozen leading articles. The Continent seemed +on the edge of an outbreak; in the East especially, Russia by a score of +petty acts had seemed to foreshadow an incomprehensible policy. It was +a powder-barrel waiting for the spark; and he felt dismally that the +spark might come at any moment from some unlooked-for quarter of the +globe. He ran over in his mind the position of foreign affairs. All +seemed vaguely safe; and yet he was conscious that all was vaguely +unsettled. The world was on the eve of one of its cyclic changes, and +unrest seemed to make the air murky. + +He tried to be polite and listened attentively to the lady on his right, +who was telling him the latest gossip about a certain famous marriage. +But his air was so manifestly artificial that she turned to the +presumably more attractive topic of his doings. + +"You look ill," she said--she was one who adopted the motherly air +towards young men, which only a pretty woman can use. "Are they +over-working you in the House?" + +"Pretty fair," and he smiled grimly. "But really I can't complain. I +have had eight hours' sleep in the last four days, and I don't think +Beauregard could say as much. Some day I shall break loose and go to a +quiet place and sleep for a week. Brittany would do--or Scotland." + +"I was in Scotland last week," she said. "I didn't find it quiet. It +was at one of those theatrical Highland houses where they pipe you to +sleep and pipe you to breakfast. I used to have to sit up all night by +the fire and read Marius the Epicurean, to compose myself. Did you ever +try the specific?" + +"No," he said, laughing. "I always soothe my nerves with Blue-books." + +She made a mouth at the thought. "And do you know I met such a nice man +up there, who said you were a great friend of his? His name was +Haystoun." + +"Do you remember his Christian name?" he asked. + +"Lewis," she said without hesitation. + +He laughed. "He is a man who should only have one name and that his +Christian one. I never heard him called 'Haystoun' in my life. How is +he?" + +"He seemed well, but he struck me as being at rather a loose end. What +is wrong with him? You know him well and can tell me. He seems to have +nothing to do; to have fallen out of his niche, you know. And he looks +so extraordinarily clever." + +"He _is_ extraordinarily clever. But if I undertook to tell you what +was wrong with Lewie Haystoun, I should never get to the House to-night. +The vitality of a great family has run to a close in him. He is strong +and able, and yet, unless the miracle of miracles happens, he will never +do anything. Two hundred years ago he might have led some mad Jacobite +plot to success. Three hundred and he might have been another Raleigh. +Six hundred, and there would have been a new crusade. But as it is, he +is out of harmony with his times; life is too easy and mannered; the +field for a man's courage is in petty and recondite things, and Lewie is +not fitted to understand it. And all this, you see, spells a kind of +cowardice: and if you have a friend who is a hero out of joint, a great +man smothered in the wrong sort of civilization, and all the while one +who is building up for himself with the world and in his own heart the +reputation of a coward, you naturally grow hot and bitter." + +The lady looked curiously at the speaker. She had never heard the +silent politician speak so earnestly before. + +"It seems to me a clear case of _chercher la femme_," said she. + +"That," said Wratislaw with emphasis, "is the needle-point of the whole +business. He has fallen in love with just the wrong sort of woman. +Very pretty, very good, a demure puritanical little Pharisee, clever +enough, too, to see Lewie's merits, too weak to hope to remedy them, and +too full of prejudice to accept them. There you have the makings of a +very pretty tragedy." + +"I am so sorry," said the lady. She was touched by this man's anxiety +for his friend, and Mr. Lewis Haystoun, whom she was never likely to +meet again, became a figure of interest in her eyes. She turned to say +something more, but Wratislaw, having unburdened his soul to some one, +and feeling a little relieved, was watching his chief's face further +down the table. That nobleman, hopelessly ill at ease, had given up the +pretence of amiability and was now making frantic endeavours to send +mute signals across the flowers to his under secretary. + +The Montrayner guests seldom linger. Within half an hour after the +ladies left the table Beauregard and Wratislaw were taking leave and +hurrying into their greatcoats. + +"You are going down to the House," said the elder man, "and I'll come +too. I want to have some talk with you. I tried to catch your eye at +dinner to get you to come round and deliver me from old Montrayner, for +I had to sit on his right hand and couldn't come round to you. +Heigho-ho! I wish I was a Trappist." + +The cab had turned out of Piccadilly into St. James's Street before +either man spoke again. The tossing lights of a windy autumn evening +were shimmering on the wet pavement, and faces looked spectral white in +the morris-dance of shine and shadow. Wratislaw, whose soul was sick +for high, clean winds and the great spaces of the moors, was thinking of +Glenavelin and Lewis and the strong, quickening north. His companion +was furrowing his brow over some knotty problem in his duties. + +In Pall Mall there was a lull in the noise, but neither seemed disposed +to talk. + +"We had better wait till we get to the House," said Beauregard. "We +must have peace, for I have got the most vexatious business to speak +about." And again he wrinkled his anxious brows and stared in front of +him. + +They entered a private room where the fire had burned itself out, and +the lights fell on heavy furniture and cheerless solitude. Beauregard +spread himself out in an arm-chair, and stared at the ceiling. +Wratislaw, knowing his chief's manners, stood before the blackened grate +and waited. + +"Fetch me an atlas--that big one, and find the map of the Indian +frontier." Wratislaw obeyed and stretched the huge folio on the table. + +The elder man ran his forefinger in a circle. + +"There--that wretched radius is the plague of my life. Our reports stop +short at that line, and reliable information begins again some hundreds +of miles north. Meanwhile--between?" And he shrugged his shoulders. + +"I got news to-day in a roundabout way from Taghati. That's the town +just within the Russian frontier there. It seems that the whole country +is in a ferment. The hill tribes are out and the Russian frontier line +is threatened. So they say. I have the actual names of the people who +are making the row. Russian troops are being massed along the line +there. The whole place, you know, has been for long a military beehive +and absurdly over-garrisoned, so there is no difficulty about the +massing. The difficulty lies in the reason. Three thousand square +miles or so of mountain cannot be so dangerous. One would think that +the whole Afghan nation was meditating a descent on the Amu Daria." He +glanced up at his companion, and the two men saw the same anxiety in +each other's eyes. + +"Anything more of Marka?" asked Wratislaw. + +"Nothing definite. He is somewhere in the Pamirs, up to some devilry or +other. Oh, by the by, there is something I have forgotten. I found out +the other day that our gentleman had been down quite recently in +south-west Kashmir. He was Arthur Marker at the time, the son of a +German count and a Scotch mother, you understand. Immensely popular, +too, among natives and Europeans alike. He went south from Bardur, and +apparently returned north by the Punjab. At Bardur, Logan and Thwaite +were immensely fascinated, Gribton remained doubtful. Now the good +Gribton is coming home, and so he will have the place for a happy +hunting-ground." + +Wratislaw was puffing his under-lip in deep thought. "It is a sweet +business," he said. "But what can we do? Only wait?" + +"Yes, one could wait if Marka were the only disquieting feature. But +what about Taghati and the Russian activity? What on earth is going on +or about to go on in this square inch of mountain land to make all the +pother? If it is a tribal war on a first-class scale then we must know +about it, for it is in the highest degree our concern too. If it is +anything else, things look more than doubtful. All the rest I don't +mind. It's open and obvious, and we are on the alert. But that little +bit of frontier there is so little known and apparently so remote that I +begin to be afraid of trouble in that direction. What do you think?" + +Wratislaw shook his head. He had no opinion to offer. + +"At any rate, you need fear no awkward questions in the House, for this +sort of thing cannot be public for months." + +"I am wondering whether somebody should not go out. Somebody quite +unofficial and sufficiently clever." + +"My thought too," said Beauregard. "The pinch is where to get our man +from. I have been casting up possibilities all day, and this one is too +clever, another too dull, another too timid, and another too +hare-brained." + +Wratislaw seemed sunk in a brown study. + +"Do you remember my telling you once about my friend Lewis Haystoun?" he +asked. + +"I remember perfectly. What made him get so badly beaten? He ought to +have won." + +"That's part of my point," said the other. "If I knew him less well +than I do I should say he was the man cut out by Providence for the +work. He has been to the place, he knows the ropes of travelling, he is +exceedingly well-informed, and he is uncommonly clever. But he is badly +off colour. The thing might be the saving of him, or the ruin--in which +case, of course, he would also be the ruin of the thing." + +"As risky as that?" Beauregard asked. "I have heard something of him, +but I thought it merely his youth. What's wrong with him?" + +"Oh, I can't tell. A thousand things, but all might be done away with +by a single chance like this. I tell you what I'll do. After to-night +I can be spared for a couple of days. I feel rather hipped myself, so I +shall get up to the north and see my man. I know the circumstances and +I know Lewis. If the two are likely to suit each other I have your +authority to give him your message?" + +"Certainly, my dear Wratislaw. I have all the confidence in the world +in your judgment. You will be back the day after to-morrow?" + +"I shall only be out of the House one night, and I think the game worth +it. I need not tell you that I am infernally anxious both about the +business and my friend. It is just on the cards that one might be the +solution of the other." + +"You understand everything?" + +"Everything. I promise you I shall be exacting enough. And now I had +better be looking after my own work." + +Beauregard stared after him as he went out of the room and remained for +a few minutes in deep thought. Then he deliberately wrote out a foreign +telegram form and rang the bell. + +"I fancy I know the man," he said to himself. "He will go. Meantime I +can prepare things for his passage." The telegram was to the fugitive +Gribton at Florence, asking him to meet a certain Mr. Haystoun at the +Embassy in Paris within a week for the discussion of a particular +question. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE BRINK OF THE RUBICON + + +The next evening Wratislaw drove in a hired dogcart up Glenavelin from +Gledsmuir just as a stormy autumn twilight was setting in over the bare +fields. A wild back-end had followed on the tracks of a marvellous +summer. Though it was still October the leaves lay heaped beneath the +hedgerows, the bracken had yellowed to a dismal hue of decay, and the +heather had turned from the purple of its flower to the grey-blue of its +passing. Rain had fallen, and the long road-side pools were fired by +the westering sun. Glenavelin looked crooked and fantastic in the +falling shadows, and two miles farther the high lights of Etterick rose +like a star in the bosom of the hills. Seen after many weeks' work in +the bustle and confinement of town, the solitary, shadow-haunted world +soothed and comforted. + +He found Lewis in his room alone. The place was quite dark for no lamp +was lit, and only a merry fire showed the occupant. He welcomed his +friend with crazy vehemence, pushing him into a great armchair, offering +a dozen varieties of refreshment, and leaving the butler aghast with +contradictory messages about dinner. + +"Oh, Tommy, upon my soul, it is good to see you here! I was getting as +dull as an owl." + +"Are you alone?" Wratislaw asked. + +"George is staying here, but he has gone over to Glenaller to a big +shoot. I didn't care much about it, so I stayed at home. He will be +back to-morrow." + +Lewis's face in the firelight seemed cheerful and wholesome enough, but +his words belied it. Wratislaw wondered why this man, who had been wont +to travel to the ends of the earth for good shooting, should deny +himself the famous Glenaller coverts. + +At dinner the lamplight showed him more clearly, and the worried look in +his eyes could not be hidden. He was listless, too, his kindly, +boisterous manner seemed to have forsaken him, and he had acquired a +great habit of abstracted silence. He asked about recent events in the +House, commenting shrewdly enough, but without interest. When Wratislaw +in turn questioned him on his doings, he had none of the ready +enthusiasm which had been used to accompany his talk on sport. He gave +bare figures and was silent. + +Afterwards in his own sanctum, with drawn curtains and a leaping fire, +he became more cheerful. It was hard to be moody in that pleasant room, +with the light glancing from silver and vellum and dark oak, and a +thousand memories about it of the clean, outdoor life. Wratislaw +stretched his legs to the blaze and watched the coils of blue smoke +mounting from his pipe with a feeling of keen pleasure. His errand was +out of the focus of his thoughts. + +It was Lewis himself who recalled him to the business. + +"I thought of coming down to town," he said. "I have been getting out +of spirits up here, and I wanted to be near you." + +"Then it was an excellent chance which brought me up to-night. But why +are you dull? I thought you were the sort of man who is sufficient unto +himself, you know." + +"I am not," he said sharply. "I never realized my gross insufficiency +so bitterly." + +"Ah!" said Wratislaw, sitting up, "love?" + +"Did you happen to see Miss Wishart's engagement in the papers?" + +"I never read the papers. But I have heard about this: in fact, I +believe I have congratulated Stocks." + +"Do you know that she ought to have married me?" Lewis cried almost +shrilly. "I swear she loved me. It was only my hideous folly that +drove her from me." + +"Folly?" said Wratislaw, smiling. "Folly? Well you might call it +that. I have come up 'ane's errand,' as your people hereabouts say, to +talk to you like a schoolmaster, Lewie. Do you mind a good talking-to?" + +"I need it," he said. "Only it won't do any good, because I have been +talking to myself for a month without effect. Do you know what I am, +Tommy?" + +"I am prepared to hear," said the other. + +"A coward! It sounds nice, doesn't it? I am a shirker, a man who would +be drummed out of any regiment." + +"Rot!" said Wratislaw. "In that sort of thing you have the courage of +your kind. You are the wrong sort of breed for common shirking cowards. +Why, man, you might get the Victoria Cross ten times over with ease, as +far as that goes. Only you wouldn't, for you are something much more +subtle and recondite than a coward." + +It was Lewis's turn for the request. "I am prepared to hear," he said. + +"A fool! An arrant, extraordinary fool! A fool of quality and parts, a +fool who is the best fellow in the world and who has every virtue a man +can wish, but at the same time a conspicuous monument of folly. And it +is this that I have come to speak about." + +Lewis sat back in his chair with his eyes fixed on the glowing coal. + +"I want you to make it all plain," he said slowly. "I know it all +already; I have got the dull, dead consciousness of it in my heart, but +I want to hear it put into words." And he set his lips like a man in +pain. + +"It is hard," said Wratislaw, "devilish hard, but I've got to try." He +knocked out the ashes from his pipe and leaned forward. + +"What would you call the highest happiness, Lewie?" he asked. + +"The sense of competence," was the answer, given without hesitation. + +"Right. And what do we mean by competence? Not success! God knows it +is something very different from success! Any fool may be successful, +if the gods wish to hurt him. Competence means that splendid joy in +your own powers and the approval of your own heart, which great men feel +always and lesser men now and again at favoured intervals. There are a +certain number of things in the world to be done, and we have got to do +them. We may fail--it doesn't in the least matter. We may get killed +in the attempt--it matters still less. The things may not altogether be +worth doing--it is of very little importance. It is ourselves we have +got to judge by. If we are playing our part well, and know it, then we +can thank God and go on. That is what I call happiness." + +"And I," said Lewis. + +"And how are you to get happiness? Not by thinking about it. The great +things of the world have all been done by men who didn't stop to reflect +on them. If a man comes to a halt and analyses his motives and +distrusts the value of the thing he strives for, then the odds are that +his halt is final. You strive to strive and not to attain. A man must +have that direct practical virtue which forgets itself and sees only its +work. Parsons will tell you that all virtue is self-sacrifice, and they +are right, though not in the way they mean. It may all seem a tissue of +contradictions. You must not pitch on too fanciful a goal, nor, on the +other hand, must you think on yourself. And it is a contradiction which +only resolves itself in practice, one of those anomalies on which the +world is built up." + +Lewis nodded his head. + +"And the moral of it all is that there are two sorts of people who will +never do any good on this planet. One is the class which makes formulas +and shallow little ideals its gods and has no glimpse of human needs and +the plain issues of life. The other is the egotist whose eye is always +filled with his own figure, who investigates his motives, and hesitates +and finicks, till Death knocks him on the head and there is an end of +him. Of the two give me the second, for even a narrow little +egotistical self is better than a formula. But I pray to be delivered +from both." + +"'Then who shall stand if Thou, O Lord, dost mark iniquity?'" Lewis +quoted. + +"There are two men only who will not be ashamed to look their work in +the face in the end--the brazen opportunist and the rigid Puritan. +Suppose you had some desperate frontier work to get through with and a +body of men to pick for it, whom would you take? Not the ordinary, +colourless, respectable being, and still less academic nonentities! If +I had my pick, my companions should either be the narrowest religionists +or frank, unashamed blackguards. I should go to the Calvinists and the +fanatics for choice, but if I could not get them then I should have the +rankers. For, don't you see, the first would have the fear of God in +them, and that somehow keeps a man from fearing anything else. They +would do their work because they believed it to be their duty. And the +second would have the love of the sport in them, and they should also be +made to dwell in the fear of me. They would do their work because they +liked it, and liked me, and I told them to do it." + +"I agree with you absolutely," said Lewis. "I never thought otherwise." + +"Good," said Wratislaw. "Now for my application. You've had the +misfortune to fall between the two stools, Lewie. You're too clever for +a Puritan and too good for a ranker. You're too finicking and +high-strung and fanciful for a prosaic world. You think yourself the +laughing philosopher with an infinite appreciation of everything, and +yet you have not the humour to stand aside and laugh at yourself." + +"I am a coward, as I have told you," said the other dourly. + +"No, you are not. But you can't bring yourself down to the world of +compromises, which is the world of action. You have lost the practical +touch. You muddled your fight with Stocks because you couldn't get out +of touch with your own little world in practice, however you might +manage it in theory. You can't be single-hearted. Twenty impulses are +always pulling different ways with you, and the result is that you +become an unhappy, self-conscious waverer." + +Lewis was staring into the fire, and the older man leaned forward and +put his hand very tenderly on his shoulder. + +"I don't want to speak about the thing which gives you most pain, old +chap; but I think you have spoiled your chances in the same way in +another matter--the most important matter a man can have to do with, +though it ill becomes a cynical bachelor like myself to say it." + +"I know," said Lewis dismally. + +"You see it is the Nemesis of your race which has overtaken you. The +rich, strong blood of you Haystouns must be given room or it sours into +moodiness. It is either a spoon or a spoiled horn with you. You are +capable of the big virtues, and just because of it you are +extraordinarily apt to go to the devil. Not the ordinary devil, of +course, but to a very effective substitute. You want to be braced and +pulled together. A war might do it, if you were a soldier. A religious +enthusiasm would do it, if that were possible for you. As it is, I have +something else, which I came up to propose to you." + +Lewis faced round in an attitude of polite attention. But his eyes had +no interest in them. + +"You know Bardur and the country about there pretty well?" + +Lewis nodded. + +"Also I once talked to you about a man called Marka. Do you remember?" + +"Yes, of course I do. The man who went north from Bardur the week +before I turned up there?" + +"Well, there's trouble brewing thereabouts. You know the Taghati +country up beyond the Russian line. Things are in a ferment there, +great military preparations and all the rest of it, and the reason, they +say, is that the hill-tribes in the intervening No-man's-land are at +their old games. Things look very ugly abroad just now, and we can't +afford to neglect anything when a crisis may be at the door. So we want +a man to go out there and find out the truth." + +Lewis had straightened himself and was on his feet before Wratislaw had +done. "Upon my word," he cried, "if it isn't what I expected! We have +been far too sure of the safety of that Kashmir frontier. You mean, of +course, that there may be a chance of an invasion?" + +"I mean nothing. But things look ugly enough in Europe just now, and +Asia would naturally be the starting-point." + +Lewis made some rapid calculations in his head which he jotted on the +wood of the fireplace. "It would take a week to get from Bardur to +Taghati by the ordinary Kashmir rate of travelling, but of course the +place is unknown and it might take months. One would have to try it?" + +"I can only give you the bare facts. If you decide to go, Beauregard +will give you particulars in town." + +"When would he want to know?" + +"At once. I go back to-morrow morning, and I must have your answer +within three days. You would be required to start within a week. You +can take time and quiet to make up your mind." + +"It's a great chance," said Lewis. "Does Beauregard think it +important?" + +"Of the highest importance. Also, of course it is dangerous. The +travelling is hard, and you may be knocked on the head at any moment as +a spy." + +"I don't mind that," said the other, flushing. "I've been through the +same thing before." + +"I need not say the work will be very difficult. Remember that your +errand will not be official, so in case of failure or trouble we could +not support you. We might even have to disclaim all responsibility. In +the event of success, on the other hand, your fortune is something more +than made." + +"Would you go?" came the question. + +"No," said Wratislaw, "I shouldn't." + +"But if you were in my place?" + +"I should hope that I would, but then I might not have the courage. I +am giving you the brave man's choice, Lewie. You will be going out to +uncertainty and difficulty and extreme danger. On the other hand, I +believe in my soul it will harden you into the man you ought to be. +Lord knows I would rather have you stay at home!" + +The younger man looked up for a second and saw something in Wratislaw's +face which made him turn away his eyes. The look of honest regret cut +him to the heart. Those friends of his, of whom he was in nowise +worthy, made the burden of his self-distrust doubly heavy. + +"I will tell you within three days," he said hoarsely. "God bless you, +Tommy. I don't deserve to have a man like you troubling himself about +me." + +It was his one spoken tribute to their friendship; and both, with the +nervousness of honest men in the presence of emotion, hastened to change +the subject. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE FURTHER BRINK + + +Wratislaw left betimes the next morning, and a long day faced Lewis with +every hour clamouring for a decision. George would be back by noon, and +before his return he must seek quiet and the chances of reflection. He +was happy with a miserable fluctuating happiness. Of a sudden his +horizon was enlarged, but as he gazed it seemed to narrow again. His +mind was still unplumbed; somewhere in its depths might lie the +shrinking and unwillingness which would bind him to the dreary present. + +He went out to the autumn hills and sought the ridge which runs for +miles on the lip of the glen. It was a grey day, with snow waiting in +cloud-banks in the north sky and a thin wind whistling through the +pines. The scene matched his humour. He was in love for the moment +with the stony and stormy in life. He hungered morbidly for +ill-fortune, something to stamp out the ease in his soul, and weld him +into the form of a man. + +He had got his chance and the rest lay with himself. It was a chance of +high adventure, a great mission, a limitless future. At the thought the +old fever began to rise in his blood. The hot, clear smell of rock and +sand, the brown depths of the waters, the far white peaks running up +among the stars, all spoke to him with the long-remembered call. Once +more he should taste life, and, alert in mind and body, hold up his chin +among his fellows. It would be a contest of wits, and for all his +cowardice this was not the contest he shrank from. + +And then there came back on him, like a flood, the dumb misery of +incompetence which had weighed on heart and brain. The hatred of the +whole struggling, sordid crew, all the cant and ugliness and ignorance +of a mad world, his weakness in the face of it, his fall from common +virtue, his nerveless indolence--all stung him like needle points, till +he cried out in agony. Anything to deliver his soul from such a +bondage, and in his extreme bitterness his mind closed with Wratislaw's +offer. + +He felt--and it is a proof of his weakness--a certain nameless feeling +of content when he had once forced himself into the resolution. Now at +least he had found a helm and a port to strain to. As his fancy dwelt +upon the mission and drew airy pictures of the land, he found to his +delight a boyish enthusiasm arising. Old simple pleasures seemed for +the moment dear. There was a zest for toils and discomforts, a +tolerance of failure, which had been aforetime his chief traveller's +heritage. + +And then as he came to the ridge where the road passes from Glenavelin +to Glen Adler, he stopped as in duty bound to look at the famous +prospect. You stand at the shedding of two streams; behind, the green +and woodland spaces of the pastoral Avelin; at the feet, a land of +stones and dwarf junipers and naked rifts in the hills, with +white-falling waters and dark shadows even at midday. And then, beyond +and afar, the lines of hill-land crowd upon each other till the eye is +lost in a mystery of grey rock and brown heather and single bald peaks +rising sentinel-like in the waste. The grey heavens lent a chill +eeriness to the dim grey distances; the sharp winds, the forerunners of +snow, blew over the moors like blasts from a primeval night. + +By an odd vagary of temper the love of these bleak hills blazed up +fiercely in his heart. Never before had he felt so keenly the nameless +glamour of his own heritage. He had not been back six months and yet he +had come to accept all things as matters of course, the beauty of the +place, its sport, its memories. Rarely had he felt that intimate joy in +it which lies at the bottom of all true souls. There is a sentiment +which old poets have made into songs and called the "Lilt of the +Heather," and which is knit closer to man's heart than love of wife or +kin or his own fair fortune. It had not come to him in the time of the +hills' glory, but now on the brink of winter the far-off melancholy of +the place and its infinite fascination seemed to clutch at his +heart-strings. It was his own land, the place of his fathers; and now +he must sever himself from it and carry only a barren memory. + +And yet he felt no melancholy. Rather it was the immortal gaiety of the +wanderer, to whom the homeland is dearest as a memory, who pitches his +camp by waters of Babylon and yet as ever the old word on his lip, the +old song in his ear, and the kindly picture in his heart. Strange that +it is the little races who wander farthest and yet have the eternal +home-sickness! And yet not strange, for to the little peoples, their +land, bare and uncouth and unfriendly for the needs of life, must be +more the ideal, the dream, than the satisfaction. The lush countries +give corn and wine for their folks, the little bare places afford no +more than a spiritual heritage. Yet spiritual it is, and for two men +who in the moment of their extremity will think on meadow, woodland, or +placid village, a score will figure the windy hill, the grey lochan, and +the mournful sea. + +For the moment he felt a self-pity which he cast from him. To this +degradation at least he should never come. But as the thought of Alice +came up ever and again, his longing for her seemed to be changed from +hot pain to a chastened regret. The red hearth-fire was no more in his +fancy. The hunger for domesticity had gone, and the girl was now less +the wife he had desired than the dream of love he had vainly followed. +As he came back across the moors, for the first time for weeks his +jealous love left him at peace. His had been a fanciful Sylvia, "holy, +fair, and wise"; and what if mortal Sylvia were unkind, there was yet +comfort in this elusive lady of his memories. + + * * * * * + +He found George at the end of a second breakfast, a very ruddy, happy +young man hunting high and low for a lost tobacco-jar. + +"Oh, first-class," he said in answer to Lewis's question. "Out and out +the best day's shooting I've had in my life. You were an ass not to +come, you know. A lot of your friends there, tremendously disappointed +too, and entrusted me with a lot of messages for you which I have +forgotten." + +His companion's high spirits infected Lewis and he fell into cheery +gossip. Then he could contain the news no more. + +"I had Tommy up last night on a flying visit. He says that Beauregard +wants me to go out to Kashmir again. There has been some threatening of +a row up there, and he thinks that as I know the place I might be able +to get good information." + +"Official?" asked George. + +"Practically, yes; but in theory it's quite off my own bat, and they are +good enough to tell me that they will not acknowledge responsibility. +However, it's a great chance and I am going." + +"Good," said the other, and his face and voice had settled into gravity. +"Pretty fair sport up in those parts, isn't there?" + +"Pretty fair? it's about the best in the world. Your ordinary man who +goes the grand tour comes home raving about the sport in the Himalayan +foothills, and it's not to be named with this." + +"Good chance too of a first-rate row, isn't there? Natives troublesome, +and Russia near, and that sort of thing?" George's manner showed a +growing enthusiasm. + +"A rather good chance. It is about that I'm going, you know." + +"Then if you don't mind, I am coming with you." + +Lewis stared, incredulous. + +"It's quite true. I am serious enough. I am doing nothing at the Bar, +and I want to travel, proper travelling, where you are not coddled with +railways and hotels." + +"But it's hideously risky, and probably very arduous and thankless. You +will tire of it in a week." + +"I won't," said George, "and in any case I'll make my book for that. +You must let me come, Lewie. I simply couldn't stand your going off +alone." + +"But I may have to leave you. There are places where one can go when +two can't." + +"When you come to that sort of place I'll stay behind. I'll be quite +under your orders." + +"Well, at any rate take some time to think over it." + +"Bless you, I don't want time to think over it," cried George. "I know +my own mind. It's the chance I've been waiting on for years." + +"Thanks tremendously then, my dear chap," said Lewis, very ill at ease. +"It's very good of you. I must wire at once to Tommy." + +"I'll take it down, if you like. I want to try that new mare of yours +in the dog-cart." + +When his host had left the room George forgot to light his pipe, but +walked instead to the window and whistled solemnly. "Poor old man," he +said softly to himself, "it had to come to this, but I'm hanged if he +doesn't take it like a Trojan." And he added certain striking comments +on the ways of womankind and the afflictions of life, which, being +expressed in Mr. Winterham's curious phraseology, need not be set down. + + * * * * * + +Alice had gone out after lunch to walk to Gledsmuir, seeking in the +bitter cold and the dawning storm the freshness which comes from +conflict. All the way down the glen the north wind had stung her cheeks +to crimson and blown stray curls about her ears; but when she left the +little market-place to return she found a fine snow powdering the earth, +and a haze creeping over the hills which threatened storm. A mile of +the weather delighted her, but after that she grew weary. When the fall +thickened she sought the shelter of a way-side cottage, with the purpose +of either sending to Glenavelin for a carriage or waiting for the +off-chance of a farmer's gig. + +By four o'clock the snow showed no sign of clearing, but fell in the +same steady, noiseless drift. The mistress of the place made the girl +tea and dispatched her son to Glenavelin. But the errand would take +time, for the boy was small, and Alice, ever impatient, stood drumming +on the panes, watching the dreary weather with a dreary heart. The +goodwife was standing at the door on the look-out for a passing gig, and +her cry brought the girl to attention. + +"I see a machine comin'! I think it's the Etterick dowg-cairt. Ye'll +get a drive in it." + +Alice had gone to the door, and lo! through the thick fall a dog-cart +came into view driven by a tall young man. He recognized her at once, +and drew up. + +"Hullo, Miss Wishart! Storm-stayed? Can I help you?" + +The girl looked distrustfully at the very restless horse and he caught +her diffidence. + +"Don't be afraid. 'What I don't know about 'oases ain't worth +knowin','" he quoted with a laugh; and leaning forward he prepared to +assist her to mount. + +There was nothing for it but to accept, and the next minute she found +herself in the high seat beside him. Her wraps, sufficient for walking, +were scarcely sufficient for a snowy drive, and this, to his credit, the +young man saw. He unbuttoned his tweed shooting-cape, and gravely put +it round her. A curious dainty figure she made with her face all bright +with wind, framed in the great grey cloak. + +The horse jibbed for a second and then swung along the wild road with +the vigorous ease of good blood skilfully handled. George was puzzling +his brain all the while as to how he should tell his companion something +which she ought to know. The strong drift and the turns of the road +claimed much of his attention, so it is possible that he blurted out his +news somewhat baldly. + +"Do you know, Miss Wishart, that Lewis Haystoun and I are going off next +week? Abroad, you know." + +The girl, who had been enjoying the ecstasy of swift motion through the +bitter weather, glanced up at him with pain in her eyes. + +"Where?" she asked. + +"To the Indian frontier. We are going to be special unpaid unofficial +members of the Intelligence Department." + +She asked the old, timid woman's question about danger. + +"It's where Lewis was before. Only, you see, things have got into a +mess thereabouts, and the Foreign Office has asked him to go out again. +By the by, you mustn't tell any one about this, for it's in strict +confidence." + +The words were meaningless, and yet they sent a pang through her heart. +Had he no guess at her inmost feelings? Could he think that she would +talk to Mr. Stocks of a thing which was bound up for her with all the +sorrow and ecstasy of life? + +He looked down and saw that her face had paled and that her mouth was +drawn with some emotion. A sudden gleam of light seemed to break in +upon him. + +"Are you sorry?" he asked half-unwittingly. + +For answer the girl turned her tragic eyes upon him, tried to speak, and +faltered. He cursed himself for a fool and a brute, and whipped up an +already over-active horse, till it was all but unmanageable. It was a +wise move, for it absorbed his attention and gave the poor child at his +side a chance to recover her composure. + +They came to Glenavelin gates and George turned in. "I had better drive +you to the door, in this charming weather," he said. The sight of the +pale little face had moved him to deep pity. He cursed his blindness, +the blindness of a whole world of fools, and at the same time, with the +impotence of the honest man, he could only wait and be silent. + +At the door he stopped to unbutton his cape from her neck, and even in +his nervousness he felt the trembling of her body. She spoke rapidly +and painfully. + +"I want you to take a message from me to--to--Lewis. Tell him I must +see him. Tell him to come to the Midburn foot, to-morrow in the +afternoon. Oh, I am ashamed to ask you, but you must tell him." And +then without thanks or good-bye she fled into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE BRIDGE OF BROKEN HEARTS + + +Listless leaves were tossing in the light wind or borne downward in the +swirl of the flooded Midburn, to the weary shallows where they lay, +beached high and sodden, till the frost nipped and shrivelled their +rottenness into dust. A bleak, thin wind it was, like a fine sour wine, +searching the marrow and bringing no bloom to the cheek. A light snow +powdered the earth, the grey forerunner of storms. + +Alice stood back in the shelter of the broken parapet. The highway with +its modern crossing-place was some hundreds of yards up stream, but +here, at the burn mouth, where the turbid current joined with the cold, +glittering Avelin, there was a grass-grown track, and an ancient, +broken-backed bridge. There were few passers on the high-road, none on +this deserted way; but the girl in all her loneliness shrank back into +the shadow. In these minutes she endured the bitter mistrust, the sore +hesitancy, of awaiting on a certain but unknown grief. + +She had not long to wait, for Lewis came down the Avelin side by a +bypath from Etterick village. His alert gait covered his very real +confusion, but to the girl he seemed one who belonged to an alien world +of cheerfulness. He could not know her grief, and she regretted her +coming. + +His manners were the same courteous formalities. The man was torn with +emotion, and yet he greeted her with a conventional ease. + +"It was so good of you, Miss Wishart, to give me a chance to come and +say good-bye. My going is such a sudden affair, that I might have had +no time to come to Glenavelin, but I could not have left without seeing +you." + +The girl murmured some indistinct words. "I hope you will have a good +time and come back safely," she said, and then she was tongue-tied. + +The two stood before each other, awkward and silent--two between whom no +word of love had ever been spoken, but whose hearts were clamouring at +the iron gates of speech. + +Alice's face and neck were dyed crimson, as the impossible position +dawned on her mind. No word could break down the palisade, of form. +Lewis, his soul a volcano, struggled for the most calm and inept words. +He spoke of the weather, of her father, of his aunt's messages. + +Then the girl held out her hand. + +"Good-bye," she said, looking away from him. + +He held it for a second. "Good-bye, Miss Wishart," he said hoarsely. +Was this the consummation of his brief ecstasy, the end of months of +longing? The steel hand of fate was on him and he turned to leave. + +He turned when he had gone three paces and came back. The girl was +still standing by the parapet, but she had averted her face towards the +wintry waters. His step seemed to fall on deaf ears, and he stood +beside her before she looked towards him. + +Passion had broken down his awkwardness. He asked the old question with +a shaking voice. "Alice," he said, "have I vexed you?" + +She turned to him a pale, distraught face, her eyes brimming over with +the sorrow of love, the passionate adventurous longing which claims true +hearts for ever. + +He caught her in his arms, his heart in a glory of joy. + +"Oh, Alice, darling," he cried. "What has happened to us? I love you, +I love you, and you have never given me a chance to say it." + +She lay passive in his arms for one brief minute and then feebly drew +back. + +"Sweetheart," he cried. "Sweetheart! For I will call you sweetheart, +though we never meet again. You are mine, Alice. We cannot help +ourselves." + +The girl stood as in a trance, her eyes caught and held by his face. + +"Oh, the misery of things," she said half-sobbing. "I have given my +soul to another, and I knew it was not mine to give. Why, oh why, did +you not speak to me sooner? I have been hungering for you and you never +came." + +A sense of his folly choked him. + +"And I have made you suffer, poor darling! And the whole world is out +of joint for us!" + +The hopeless feeling of loss, forgotten for a moment, came back to him. +The girl was gone from him for ever, though a bridge of hearts should +always cross the chasm of their severance. + +"I am going away," he said, "to make reparation. I have my repentance +to work out, and it will be bitterer than yours, little woman. Ours +must be an austere love." + +She looked at him till her pale face flushed and a sad exultation woke +in her eyes. + +"You will never forget?" she asked wistfully, confident of the answer. + +"Forget!" he cried. "It is my only happiness to remember. I am going +away to be knocked about, dear. Wild, rough work, but with a man's +chances!" + +For a moment she let another thought find harbour in her mind. Was the +past irretrievable, the future predetermined? A woman's word had an old +right to be broken. If she went to him, would not he welcome her +gladly, and the future might yet be a heritage for both? + +The thought endured but a moment, for she saw how little simple was the +crux of her destiny. The two of them had been set apart by the fates; +each had salvation to work out alone; no facile union would ever join +them. For him there was the shaping of a man's path; for her the +illumination which only sorrows and parting can bring. And with the +thought she thought kindly of the man to whom she had pledged her word. +It was but a little corner of her heart he could ever possess; but +doubtless in such matters he was not ambitious. + +Lewis walked by her side down the by-path towards Glenavelin. Tragedy +muffled in the garments of convention was there, not the old picturesque +Tragic with sword and cloak and steel for the enemy, but the silent +Tragic which pulls at the heart-strings. + +"The summer is over," she said. "It has been a cruel summer, but very +bright." + +"Romance with the jarring modern note which haunts us all to-day," he +said. "This upland country is confused with bustling politics, and +pastoral has been worried to death by sickness of heart. You cannot +find the old peaceful life without." + +"And within?" she asked. + +"That is for you and me to determine, dear. God grant it. I have found +my princess, like the man in the fairy-tale, but I may not enter the +kingdom." + +"And the poor princess must sit and mope in her high stone tower? It is +a hard world for princesses." + +"Hard for the knights, too, for they cannot come back and carry off +their ladies. In the old days it used to be so, but then simplicity has +gone out of life." + +"And the princess waits and watches and cries herself to sleep?" + +"And the knight goes off to the World's End and never forgets." + +They were at Glenavelin gates now, and stood silent against the moment +of parting. She flew to his arms, for a second his kisses were on her +lips, and then came the sundering. A storm of tears was in her heart, +but with dry eyes she said the words of good-bye. Meanwhile from the +hills came a drift of snow, and a dreary wind sang in the pines the +dirge of the dead summer, the plaint of long farewells. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE EASTERN ROAD + + +If you travel abroad in certain seasons you will find that a type +predominates among the travellers. From Dover to Calais, from Calais to +Paris, there is an unnatural eagerness on faces, an unrest in gait, a +disorder in dress which argues worry and haste. And if you inquire +further, being of a speculative turn, you will find that there is +something in the air. The papers, French and English, have ugly +headlines and mystic leaders. Disquiet is in the atmosphere, each man +has a solution or a secret, and far at the back sits some body of men +who know that a crisis is near and square their backs for it. The +journalist is sick with work and fancied importance; the diplomat's hair +whitens with the game which he cannot understand; the statesman, if he +be wise, is in fear, knowing the meaning of such movements, while, if he +be foolish, he chirps optimistically in his speeches and is applauded in +the press. There are grey faces at the seats of the money-changers, for +war, the scourge of small cords, seems preparing for the overturning of +their tables, and the castigation of their persons. + +Lewis and George rang the bell in the Faubourg St. Honoré on a Monday +afternoon, and asked for Lord Rideaux. His lordship was out, but, if +they were the English gentlemen who had the appointment with M. Gribton, +Monsieur would be with them speedily. + +Lewis looked about the heavily furnished ante-room with its pale yellow +walls and thick, green curtains, with the air of a man trying to recall +a memory. "I came over here with John Lambert, when his father had the +place. That was just after I left Oxford. Gad, I was a happy man then. +I thought I could do anything. They put me next to Madame de Ravignet +because of my French, and because old Ankerville declared that I ought +to know the cleverest woman in Europe. Séry, the man who was Premier +last year, came and wrung my hand afterwards, said my fortune was +assured because I had impressed the Ravignet, and no one had ever done +it before except Bismarck. Ugh, the place is full of ghosts. Poor old +John died a year after, and here am I, far enough, God knows, from my +good intentions." + +A servant announced "Monsieur Gribton," and a little grizzled man +hobbled in, leaning heavily on a stick. He wore a short beard, and in +his tanned face two clever grey eyes twinkled sedately. He shook hands +gravely when Lewis introduced George, but his eyes immediately returned +to the former's face. + +"You look a fit pair," he said. "I am instructed to give you all the +help in my power, but I should like to know your game. It isn't sport +this time, is it, Haystoun? Logan is still talking about his week with +you. Well, well, we can do things at our leisure. I have letters to +write, and then it will be dinner-time, when we can talk. Come to the +club at eight, 'Cercle des Voyageurs,' corner of Rue Neuve de St. +Michel. I expect you belong, Haystoun; and anyway I'll be there." + +He bowed them out with his staccato apologies, and the two returned to +their hotel to dress. Two hours later they found Gribton warming his +hands in the smoking-room of the Cercle, a fussy and garrulous +gentleman, eager for his dinner. He pointed out such people as he knew, +and was consumed with curiosity about the others. Lewis wandered about +the room before he sat down, shaking hands with several and nodding to +many. + +"You seem to know the whole earth," said Gribton. + +"I suppose that a world of acquaintance is the only reward of +slackness," Lewis said, laughing. "It's a trick I have. I never forget +a face and I honestly like to see people again." + +George pulled his long moustache. "It's simply hideous the way one is +forgotten. It's all right for the busy people, for they shift their +sets with their fortune, but for drones like me it's the saddest thing +in life. Before we came away, Lewie, I went up for a day to Oxford to +see about some things, and stopped a night there. I haven't been down +long, and yet I knew nobody at the club except the treasurer, and he had +nothing to say to me except to ask after you. I went to dinner with the +dons at the high table, and I nearly perished of the blues. Little +Riddell chirped about my profession, and that bounder Jackson, who was +of our year, pretended that he had been your bosom friend. I got so +bored that I left early and wandered back to the club. Somebody was +making a racket in our old rooms in the High, windows open, you know, +and singing. I stopped to look at them, and then they started, 'Willie +brewed a peck o' maut,' and, 'pon my soul, I had to come away. Couldn't +stand it. It reminded me so badly of you and Arthur and old John +Lambert, and all the honest men that used to be there. It was +infernally absurd that I should have got so sentimental, but that wasn't +the worst of it. For I met Tony and he made me come round to a dinner, +and there I found people I didn't know from Adam drinking the old toasts +we started. Gad, they had them all. 'Las Palmas,' 'The Old Guard,' +'The Wandering Scot,' and all the others. It made me feel as low as an +owl, and when I got back to the club and saw poor old John's photograph +on the wall, I tell you I went to bed in the most wretched melancholy." + +Lewis stared open-mouthed at George, the irrepressible, in this new +attitude. He, as the hardened traveller, had had little more than a +decent pang of home-sickness. His regret was far deeper and more real +than the sentimental article of commerce, and he could afford to be +almost gay while George sat in the depths. + +"I'm coming home, and I'm not happy; you young men are going out, and +you have got the blues. There's no pleasing weak humanity. I say, +Haystoun, who's that old man?" Gribton's jovial looks belied his words. + +Lewis mentioned a name for his host's benefit. The room was emptying +rapidly, for the Cercle dined early. + +"Now for business," said Gribton, when a waiter had brought the game +course, and they sat in the midst of a desert of linen and velvet. "I +have given the thing up, but I spent twenty of my best years at Bardur. +So, as I am instructed to do all in my power to aid you, I am ready. +First, is it sport? + +"Partly," said George, but Lewis's head gave denial. + +"Because, if it is, I am not the best man. Well, then, is it +geographical? For if it is, there is much to be done." + +"Partly," said Lewis. + +"Then I take it that the residue is political. You are following the +popular avenue to polities, I suppose. Leave the 'Varsity very raw, +knock about in an unintelligent way for three or four years on some +frontier, then come home, go into the House, and pose as a specialist in +foreign affairs. I should have thought you had too much humour for +that." + +"Only, you see, I have been there before. I am merely going back upon +my tracks to make sure. I go purely as an adventurer, hoping to pick up +some valuable knowledge, but prepared to fail." + +Gribton helped himself to champagne. "That's better. Now I know your +attitude, we can talk like friends. Better come to the small +smoking-room. They've got a '51 brandy here which is beyond words. +Have some for a liqueur." + +In the smoking-room Gribton fussed about coffee and cigars for many +minutes ere he settled down. Then, when he could gaze around and see +his two guests in deep armchairs, each smoking and comfortable, he +returned to his business. + +"I don't mind telling you a secret," he said, "or rather it's only a +secret here, for once you get out there you will find 'Gribton's view,' +as they call it, well enough known and very much laughed at. I've +always been held up to ridicule as an alarmist about that Kashmir +frontier, and especially about that Bardur country. Take the whole +province. It's well garrisoned on the north, but below that it is all +empty and open. The way into the Punjab is as clear as daylight for a +swift force, and the way to the Punjab is the way to India." + +Lewis rose and went to a rack on the wall. "Do you mind if I get down +maps? These French ones are very good." He spread a sheet of canvas on +the table, thereby confounding all Gribton's hospitable manoeuvring. + +"There," said Gribton, his eyes now free from drowsiness, and clear and +bright, "that's the road I fear." + +"But these three inches are unknown," said Lewis. "I have been myself +as far as these hills." + +Gribton looked sharply up. "You don't know the place as I know it. +I've never been so far, but I know the sheep-skinned devils who come +across from Turkestan. I tell you that place isn't the impenetrable +craggy desert that the Government of India thinks it. There's a road +there of some sort, and if you're worth your salt you'll find it out." + +"I know," said Lewis. "I am going to try." + +"There's another thing. For the last three years all that north part of +Kashmir, and right away south-west to the Punjab borders, has been +honoured with visits from plausible Russian gentlemen who may come down +by the ordinary caravan routes, or, on the other hand, may not. They +turn up quite suddenly with tooth-brushes and dressing-cases, and they +can't have come from the south. They fool around in Bardur, and then go +down to Gilgit, and, I suppose, on to the Punjab. They've got excellent +manners, and they hang about the clubs and give dinners and charm the +whole neighbourhood. Logan is their bosom friend, and Thwaite declares +that their society reconciles him to the place. Then they go away, and +the place keeps on the randan for weeks after." + +"Do you know a man called Marker by any chance?" Lewis asked. + +Gribton looked curiously at the speaker. "Have you actually heard about +him? Yes, I know him, but not very well, and I can't say I ever cared +for him. However, he is easily the most popular man in Bardur, and I +daresay is a very good fellow. But you don't call him Russian. I +thought he was sort of half a Scotsman." + +"Very likely he is," said Lewis. "I happen to have heard a good deal +about him. But what ails you at him?" + +"Oh, small things," and the man laughed. "You know I am getting elderly +and cranky, and I like a man to be very fair and four-square. I confess +I never got to the bottom of the chap. He was a capital sportsman, good +bridge-player, head like a rock for liquor, and all that; but I'm hanged +if he didn't seem to me to be playing some sort of game. Another thing, +he seemed to me a terribly cold-blooded devil. He was always slapping +people on the back and calling them 'dear old fellows,' but I happened +to see a small interview once between him and one of his servants. +Perhaps I ought not to mention it, but the thing struck me unpleasantly. +It was below the club verandah, and nobody happened to be about except +myself, who was dozing after lunch. Marker was rating a servant in some +Border tongue--Chil, it sounded like; and I remember wondering how he +could have picked it up. I saw the whole thing through a chink in the +floor, and I noticed that the servant's face was as grey as a brown +hillman's can be. Then the fellow suddenly caught his arm and twisted +it round, the man's face working with pain, though he did not dare to +utter a sound. It was an ugly sight, and when I caught a glimpse of +Marker's face, 'pon my soul, those straight black eyebrows of his gave +him a most devilish look." + +"What's he like to look at?" George asked. + +"Oh, he's rather tall, very straight, with a sort of military carriage, +and he has one of those perfect oval faces that you sometimes see. He +has most remarkable black eyes and very neat, thin eyebrows. He is the +sort of man you'd turn round to look at if you once passed him in the +street; and if you once saw him smile you'd begin to like him. It's the +prettiest thing I've ever seen." + +"I expect I'll run across him somewhere," said Lewis, "and I want badly +to know him. Would you mind giving me an introduction?" + +"Charmed!" said Gribton. "Shall I write it now?" And sitting down at a +table he scribbled a few lines, put them in an envelope, and gave it to +Lewis. + +"You are pretty certain to know him when you see him, so you can give +him that line. You might run across him anywhere from Hyderabad to +Rawal Pinch, and in any case you'll hear word of him in Bardur. He's +the man for your purpose; only, as I say, I never liked him. I suspect +a loop somewhere." + +"What are Logan and Thwaite like?" Lewis asked. + +"Easy-going, good fellows. Believe in God and the British Government, +and the inherent goodness of man. I am rather the other way, so they +call me a cynic and an alarmist." + +"But what do you fear?" said George. "The place is well garrisoned." + +"I fear four inches in that map of unknown country," said Gribton +shortly. "The people up there call it a 'God-given rock-wall,' and of +course there is no force to speak of just near it. But a tribe of +devils incarnate, who call themselves the Bada-Mawidi, live on its +skirts, and there must be a road through it. It isn't the caravan +route, which goes much farther east and is plain enough. But I know +enough of the place to know that every man who comes over the frontier +to Bardur does not come by the high-road." + +"But what could happen? Surely Bardur is strongly garrisoned enough to +block any secret raid." + +"It isn't bad in its way, if the people were not so slack and easy. +They might rise to scratch, but, on the other hand, they might not, and +once past Bardur you have the open road to India, if you march quick +enough." + +"Then you have no man sufficiently adventurous there to do a little +exploring?" + +"None. They care only about shooting, and there happens to be little in +those rocks. Besides, they trust in God and the Government of India. I +didn't, so I became unpopular, and was voted a bore. But the work is +waiting for you young men." + +Gribton rose, yawned, and stretched himself. "Shall I tell you any +more?" + +"I don't think so," said Lewis, smiling; "I fancy I understand, and I am +sure we are obliged to you. Hadn't we better have a game?" + +They went to the billiard-room and played two games of a hundred up, +both of which George, who had the idler's knack in such matters, won +with ease. Gribton played so well that he became excessively +good-humoured. + +"I almost wish I was going out again if I had you two as company. We +don't get the right sort out there. Our globe-trotters all want to show +their cleverness, or else they are merely fools. You will find it +miserably dull. Nothing but bad claret and cheap champagne at the +clubs, a cliquey set of English residents, and the sort of stock sport +of which you tire in a month. That's what you may expect our frontier +towns to be like." + +"And the neighbourhood?" said Lewis, with lifted eyebrows. + +"Oh, the neighbourhood is wonderful enough; but our people there are too +slack and stale to take advantage of it. It is a peaceful frontier, you +know, and men get into a rut as easily there as elsewhere. The +country's too fat and wealthy, and people begin to forget the skeleton +up among the rocks in the north." + +"What are the garrisons like?" + +"Good people, but far too few for a serious row, and just sufficiently +large to have time hang on their hands. Our friends the Bada-Mawidi now +and then wake them up. I see from the _Temps_ that a great stirring of +the tribes in the Southern Pamirs is reported. I expect that news came +overland through Russia. It's the sort of canard these gentry are +always getting up to justify a massing of troops on the Amu Daria in +order that some new governor may show his strategic skill. I daresay +you may find things a little livelier than I found them." + +As they went towards the Faubourg St. Honoré a bitter Paris +north-easter had begun to drift a fine powdered snow in their eyes. +Gribton shivered and turned up the collar of his fur coat. "Ugh, I +can't stand this. It makes me sick to be back. Thank your stars that +you are going to the sun and heat, and out of this hideous grey +weather." + +They left him at the Embassy, and turned back to their hotel. + +"He's a useful man," said Lewis, "he has given us a cue; life will be +pretty well varied out there for you and me, I fancy." + +Then, as they entered a boulevard, and the real sweep of the wind met +their faces, both men fell strangely silent. To George it was the last +word of the north which they were leaving, and his recent home-sickness +came back and silenced him. But to Lewis, his mind already busy with +his errand, this sting of wind was the harsh disturber which carried him +back to a lonely home in a cold, upland valley. It was the wintry +weather which was his own, and Alice's face, framed in a cloak, as he +had seen it at the Broken Bridge, rose in the gallery of his heart. In +a moment he was disillusioned. Success, enterprise, new lands and faces +seemed the most dismal vexation of spirit. With a very bitter heart he +walked home, and, after the fashion of his silent kind, gave no sign of +his mood save by a premature and unreasonable retirement to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS + + +All around was stone and scrub, rising in terraces to the foot of sheer +cliffs which opened up here and there in nullahs and gave a glimpse of +great snow hills behind them. On one of the flat ridge-tops a little +village of stunted, slaty houses squatted like an ape, with a vigilant +eye on twenty gorges. Thin, twisting paths led up to it, and before, on +the more clement slopes, some fields of grain were tilled as our Aryan +forefathers tilled the soil on the plains of Turkestan. The place was +at least 8,000 feet above the sea, so the air was highland, clear and +pleasant, save for the dryness which the great stone deserts forced upon +the soft south winds. You will not find the place marked in any map, +for it is a little beyond even the most recent geographer's ken, but it +is none the less a highly important place, for the nameless village is +one of the seats of that most active and excellent race of men, the +Bada-Mawidi, who are so old that they can afford to look down on their +neighbours from a vantage-ground of some thousands of years. It is well +known that when God created the earth He first fashioned this tangle of +hill land, and set thereon a primitive Bada-Mawidi, the first of the +clan, who was the ancestor, in the thousandth degree, of the excellent +Fazir Khan, the present father of the tribe. + +The houses clustered on the scarp and enclosed a piece of well-beaten +ground and one huge cedar tree. Sounds came from the near houses, but +around the tree itself the more privileged sat in solemn conclave. Food +and wine were going the round, for the Maulai Mohammedans have no taboos +in eating and drinking. Fazir Khan sat smoking next the tree trunk, a +short, sinewy man with a square, Aryan face, clear-cut and cruel. His +chiefs were around him, all men of the same type, showing curiously fair +skins against their oiled black hair. A mullah sat cross-legged, his +straggling beard in his lap, repeating some crazy charm to himself and +looking every now and again with anxious eyes to the guest who sat on +the chief's right hand. + +The guest was a long, thin man, clad in the Cossacks' fur lined military +cloak, under which his untanned riding-boots showed red in the +moonlight. He was still busy eating goat's flesh, cheese and fruits, +and drinking deeply from the sweet Hunza wine, like a man who had come +far and fast. He ate with the utmost disregard of his company. He +might have been a hunter supping alone in the solitary hills for all the +notice he took of the fifty odd men around him. + +By and by he finished, pulled forth a little silver toothpick from an +inner pocket, and reached a hand for the long cherry-wood pipe which had +been placed beside him. He lit it, and blew a few clouds into the calm +air. + +"Now, Fazir Khan," he said, "I am a new man, and we shall talk. First, +have you done my bidding?" + +"Thy bidding has been done," said the great man sulkily. "See, I am +here with my chiefs. All the twenty villages of my tribe have been +warned, and arms have been got from the fools at Bardur. Also, I have +the Yarkand powder I was told of, to give the signals on the hills. The +Nazri Pass road, which we alone know, has been widened. What more could +man do?" + +"That is well," said the other. "It is well for you and your people +that you have done this. Your service shall not be forgotten. +Otherwise--" + +"Otherwise?" said the Fazir Khan, his hand travelling to his belt at the +sound of a threat. + +The man laughed. "You know the tale," he said. "Doubtless your mother +told you it when you clutched at her breast. Some day a great white +people from the north will come down and swallow up the disobedient. +That day is now at hand. You have been wise in time. Therefore I say +it is well." + +The stranger spoke with perfect coolness. He looked round curiously at +the circle of dark faces and laughed quietly to himself. The chief +stole one look at him and then said something to a follower. + +"I need not speak of the reward," said the stranger. "You are our +servants, and duty is duty. But I have authority for saying that we +shall hold your work in mind when we have settled our business." + +"What would ye be without us?" said the chief in sudden temper. "What +do ye know of the Nazri gates or the hill country? What is this talk of +duty, when ye cannot stir a foot without our aid?" + +"You are our servants, as I said before," said the man curtly. "You +have taken our gold and our food. Where would you be, outlaws, vagrants +that you are, hated of God and man, but for our help? Your bodies would +have rotted long ago on the hills. The kites would be feeding on your +sons; your women would be in the Bokhara market. We have saved you a +dozen times from the vengeance of the English. When they wished to come +up and burn you out, we have put them past the project with smooth +words. We have fed you in famine, we have killed your enemies, we have +given you life. You are freemen indeed in the face of the world, but +you are our servants." + +Fazir Khan made a gesture of impatience. "That is as God may direct +it," he said. "Who are ye but a people of yesterday, while the +Bada-Mawidi is as old as the rocks. The English were here before you, +and we before the English. It is right that youth should reverence +age." + +"That is one proverb," said the man, "but there are others, and in +especial one to the effect that the man without a sword should bow +before his brother who has one. In this game we are the people with the +sword, my friends." + +The hillman shrugged his shoulders. His men looked on darkly, as if +little in love with the stranger's manner of speech. + +"It is ill working in the dark," he said at length. "Ye speak of this +attack and the aid you expect from us, but we have heard this talk +before. One of your people came down with some followers in my father's +time, and his words were the same, but lo! nothing has yet happened." + +"Since your father's time things have changed, my brother. Then the +English were very much on the watch, now they sleep. Then there were no +roads, or very bad ones, and before an army could reach the plains the +whole empire would have been wakened. Now, for their own undoing, they +have made roads up to the very foot of yon mountains, and there is a new +railway down the Indus through Kohistan waiting to carry us into the +heart of the Punjab. They seek out inventions for others to enjoy, as +the Koran says, and in this case we are to be the enjoyers." + +"But what if ye fail?" said the chief. "Ye will be penned up in that +Hunza valley like sheep, and I, Fazir Khan, shall be unable to unlock +the door of that sheepfold." + +"We shall not fail. This is no war of rock-pigeons, my brothers. Our +agents are in every town and village from Bardur to Lahore. The +frontier tribes, you among the rest, are rising in our favour. There is +nothing to stop us but isolated garrisons of Gurkhas and Pathans, with a +few overworked English officers at their head. In a week we shall +command the north of India, and if we hold the north, in another week we +shall hold Calcutta and Bombay." + +The chief nodded his head. Such far-off schemes pleased his fancy, but +only remotely touched his interest. Calcutta was beyond his ken, but he +knew Bardur and Gilgit. + +"I have little love for the race," he said. "They hanged two of my +servants who ventured too near the rifle-room, and they shot my son in +the back when we raided the Chitralis. If ye and your friends cross the +border I will be with you. But meantime, till that day, what is my +duty?" + +"To wait in patience, and above all things to let the garrisons alone. +If we stir up the hive in the valleys they may come and see things too +soon for our success. We must win by secrecy and surprise. All is lost +if we cannot reach the railway before the Punjab is stirring." + +The mullah had ceased muttering to himself. He scrambled to his feet, +shaking down his rags over his knees, a lean, crazy apparition of a man +with deep-set, smouldering eyes. + +"I will speak," he cried. "Ye listen to the man's words and ye are +silent, believing all things. Ye are silent, my children, because ye +know not. But I am old and I have seen many things, and these are my +words. Ye speak of pushing out the English from the land. Allah knows +I love not the breed! I spit upon it, I thirst for the heart of every +man, woman, and child, that I might burn them in the sight of all of +you. But I have heard this talk before. When I was a young priest at +Kufaz, there was word of this pushing out of the foreigner, and I +rejoiced, being unwise. Then there was much fighting, and at the end +more English came up the valleys and, before we knew, we were paying +tribute. Since then many of our people have gone down from the +mountains with the same thought, and they have never returned. Only the +English and the troops have crept nearer. Now this stranger talks of +his Tsar and how an army will come through the passes, and foreigner +will fight with foreigner. This talk, too, I have heard. Once there +came a man with a red beard who spoke thus, and he went down to Bardur, +and lo! our men told me that they saw him hanged there for a warning. +Let foreigner war on foreigner if they please, but what have we to do in +the quarrel, my children? Ye owe nothing to either." + +The stranger regarded the speaker with calm eyes of amusement. + +"Nothing," said he, "except that we have fed you and armed you. By your +own acts you are the servants of my master." + +The mullah was rapidly working himself into a frenzy. He swung his long +bony arms across his breast and turned his face skywards. "Ye hear +that, my children. The free people, the Bada-Mawidi, of whose loins +sprang Abraham the prophet, are the servants of some foreign dog in the +north. If ye were like your fathers, ye would have long ago ere this +wiped out the taunt in blood." + +The man sat perfectly composed, save that his right hand had grasped a +revolver. He was playing a bold game, but he had played it before. And +he knew the man he had to deal with. + +"I say again, you are my master's servants by your own confession. I +did not say his slaves. You are a free people, but you will serve a +greater in this affair. As for this dog who blasphemes, when we have +settled more important matters we will attend to him." + +The mullah was scarcely a popular member of his tribe, for no one +stirred at the call. The stranger sat watching him with very bright, +eager eyes. Suddenly the priest ceased his genuflexions, there was a +gleam of steel among his rags, then something bright flashed in the air. +It fell short, because at the very moment of throwing, a revolver had +cracked out in the silence, and a bullet had broken two of his fingers. +The man flung himself writhing on the ground, howling forth +imprecations. + +The stranger looked half apologetically at the chief, whose glum +demeanour had never relaxed. "Sorry," he said; "it had to be done in +self-defence. But I ask your pardon for it." + +Fazir Khan nodded carelessly. "He is a disturber of peace, and to one +who cannot fight a hand matters little. But, by Allah, ye northerners +shoot quick." + +The stranger relinquished the cherry-wood pipe and filled a meerschaum +from a pouch which he carried in the pocket of his cloak. He took a +long drink from the loving-cup of mulled wine which was passing round. + +"Your mad priest has method in his folly," he said. "It is true that we +are attacking a great people; therefore the more need of wariness for +you and me, Fazir Khan. If we fail there will be the devil to pay for +you. The English will shift their frontier-line beyond the mountains, +and there will be no more lifting of women and driving of cattle for the +Bada-Mawidi. You will all be sent to school, and your guns will be +taken from you." + +The chief compressed his attractive features into a savage scowl. "That +may not be in my lifetime," he said. "Besides, are there no mountains +all around? In five hours I shall be in China, and in a little more I +might be beyond the Amu. But why talk of this? The accursed English +shall not escape us, I swear by the hilt of my sword and the hearts of +my fathers." + +A subdued murmur of applause ran around the circle. + +"You are men after my own heart," said the stranger. "Meanwhile, a word +in your own ear, Fazir Khan. Dare you come to Bardur with me?" + +The chief made a gesture of repugnance. "I hate that place of mud and +lime. The blood of my people cries on me when I enter the gates. But +if it is your counsel I will come with you." + +"I wish to assure myself that the place is quiet. Our success depends +upon the whole country being unsuspicious and asleep. Now if word has +got to the south, and worse still to England, there will be questions +asked and vague instructions sent up to the frontier. We shall find a +stir among the garrisons, and perhaps some visitors in the place. And +at the very worst we might find some fool inquiring about the Nazri +Pass. There was once a man in Bardur who did, but people laughed at him +and he has gone." + +"Where?" asked the chief. + +"To England. But he was a harmless man, and he is too old to have any +vigour." + +As the darkness grew over the hills the fires were brightened and the +curious game of _khoti_ was played in groups of six. The women came to +the house-doors to sit and gossip, and listened to the harsh laughter of +their lords from beside the fires. A little after midnight, when the +stars were picked out in the deep, velvet sky, Fazir Khan and the +stranger, both muffled to the ears, stole beyond the street and +scrambled down the perilous path-ways to the south. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE OUTPOSTS + + +Towards the close of a wet afternoon two tongas discharged Lewis, +George, two native servants, and a collection of gun-cases in the +court-yard of the one hotel in Bardur. They had made a record journey +up country, stopping to present no letters of introduction, which are +the thieves of time. Now, as Lewis found himself in the strait valley, +with the eternal snows where the sky should be, and sniffed the dry air +from the granite walls, he glowed with the pleasure of recollection. + +The place was the same as ever. The same medley of races perambulated +the streets. Sheep-skinned Central Asians and Mongolian merchants from +Yarkand still displayed their wares and their cunning; Hunza tribesmen, +half-clad Chitralis, wild-eyed savages from Yagistan mingled in the +narrow stone streets with the civilized Persian and Turcoman from beyond +the mountains. Kashmir sepoys, an untidy race, still took their ease in +the sun, and soldiers of South India from the Imperial Service Troops +showed their odd accoutrements and queer race mixtures. The place +looked and smelled like a kind of home, and Lewis, with one eye on the +gun-cases and one on the great hills, forgot his heart-sickness and had +leisure for the plain joys of expectation. + +"I am going to get to work at once," he said, when he had washed the +dust out of his eyes and throat. "I shall go and call on the Logans +this very minute, and I expect we shall see Thwaite and some of the +soldiers at the club to-night." So George, much against his will, was +compelled to don a fresh suit and suffer himself to be conducted to the +bungalow of the British Resident. + +The Sahib was from home, at Gilgit, but Madame would receive the +strangers. So the two found themselves in a drawing-room aggressively +English in its air, shaking hands with a small woman with kind eyes and +a washed-out complexion. + +Mrs. Logan was unaffectedly glad to see them. She had that trick of +dominating her surroundings which English ladies seem to bear to the +uttermost ends of the globe. There, in that land of snows and rock, +with savage tribesmen not thirty miles away, and the British +frontier-line something less than fifty, she gave them tea and talked +small talk with the ease and gusto of an English country home. + +"It's the most unfortunate thing in the world," she cried. "If you had +only wired, Gilbert would have stayed, but as it is he has gone down to +Gilgit about some polo ponies, and won't be back for two days. Things +are so humdrum and easy-going up here that one loses interest in one's +profession. Gilbert has nothing to do except arrange with the foreman +of the coolies who are making roads, and hold stupid courts, and consult +with Captain Thwaite and the garrison people. The result is that the +poor man has become crazy about golf, and wastes all his spare money on +polo ponies. You can have no idea what a godsend a new face is to us +poor people. It is simply delightful to see you again, Mr. Haystoun. +You left us about sixteen months ago, didn't you? Did you enjoy going +back?" + +Lewis said yes, with an absurd sense of the humour of the question. The +lady talked as if home had been merely an interlude, instead of the +crisis of his life. + +"And what did you do? And whom did you see? Please tell me, for I am +dying for a gossip." + +"I have been home in Scotland, you know. Looking after my affairs and +idling. I stood for Parliament and got beaten." + +"Really! How exciting! Where is your home in Scotland, Mr. Haystoun? +You told me once, but I have forgotten. You know I have no end of +Scotch relatives." + +"It's in rather a remote part, a place called Etterick, in Glenavelin." + +"Glenavelin, Glenavelin," the lady repeated. "That's where the +Manorwaters live, isn't it?" + +"My uncle," said Lewis. + +"I had a letter from a friend who was staying there in the summer. I +wonder if you ever met her. A Miss Wishart. Alice Wishart?" + +Lewis strove to keep any extraordinary interest out of his eyes. This +voice from another world had broken rudely in upon his new composure. + +"I knew her," he said, and his tone was of such studied carelessness +that Mrs. Logan looked up at him curiously. + +"I hope you liked her, for her mother was a relation of my husband, and +when I have been home the small Alice has always been a great friend of +mine. I wonder if she has grown pretty. Gilbert and I used to bet +about it on different sides. I said she would be very beautiful some +day." + +"She is very beautiful," said Lewis in a level voice, and George, +feeling the thin ice, came to his friend's rescue. He could at least +talk naturally of Miss Wishart. + +"The Wisharts took the place, you know, Mrs. Logan, so we saw a lot of +them. The girl was delightful, good sportswoman and all that sort of +thing, and capital company. I wonder she never told us about you. She +knew we were coming out here, for I told her, and she was very +interested." + +"Yes, it's odd, for I suppose she had read Mr. Haystoun's book, where +my husband comes in a good deal. I shall tell her about seeing you in +my next letter. And now tell me your plans." + +Lewis's face had begun to burn in a most compromising way. Those last +days in Glenavelin had risen again before the eye of his mind and old +wounds were reopened. The thought that Alice was not yet wholly out of +his life, that the new world was not utterly severed from the old, +affected him with a miserable delight. Mrs. Logan became invested with +an extraordinary interest. He pulled himself together to answer her +question. + +"Oh, our errand is much the same as last time. We want to get all the +sport we can, and if possible to cross the mountains into Turkestan. I +am rather keen on geographical work just now, and there's a bit of land +up here which wants exploring." + +The lady laughed. "That sounds like poor dear Mr. Gribton. I suppose +you remember him? He left here in the summer, but when he lived in +Bardur he had got that northern frontier-line on the brain. He was a +horrible bore, for he would always work the conversation round to it +sooner or later. I think it was really Mr. Gribton who made people +often lose interest in these questions. They had to assume an indolent +attitude in pure opposition to his fussiness." + +"When will your husband be home?" Lewis asked. + +"In two days, or possibly three. I am so sorry about it. I'll wire at +once, but it's a slow journey, especially if he is bringing ponies. Of +course you want to see him before you start. It's such a pity, but +Bardur is fearfully empty of men just now. Captain Thwaite has gone off +after ibex, and though I think he will be back to-morrow, I am afraid he +will be too late for my dance. Oh, really, this is lucky. I had +forgotten all about it. Of course you two will come. That will make +two more men, and we shall be quite a respectable party. We are having +a dance to-morrow night, and as the English people here are so few and +uncertain in their movements we can't afford to miss a chance. You +_must_ come. I've got the Thwaites and the Beresfords and the Waltons, +and some of the garrison people who are down on leave. Oh, and there's +a man coming whom you must know. A Mr. Marker, a most delightful +person. I don't think you met him before, but you must have heard my +husband talk about him. He is the very man for your purpose. Gilbert +says he knows the hills better than any of the Hunza tribesmen, and that +he is the best sportsman he ever met. Besides, he is such an +interesting person, very much a man of the world, you know, who has been +everywhere and knows everybody." + +Lewis congratulated himself on his luck. "I should like very much to +come to the dance, and I especially want to meet Mr. Marker." + +"He is half Scotch, too," said the lady. "His mother was a Kirkpatrick +or some name like that, and he actually seems to talk English with a +kind of Scotch accent. Of course that may be the German part of him. +He is a Pomeranian count or something of the sort, and very rich. You +might get him to go with you into the hills." + +"I wish we could," said Lewis falsely. His curiosity was keenly +excited. + +"Why does he come up here such a lot?" George asked. + +"I suppose because he likes to 'knock about,' as you call it. He is a +tremendous traveller. He has been into Tibet and all over Turkestan and +Persia. Gilbert says that he is the wonder of the age." + +"Is he here just now?" + +"No, I don't think so. I know he is coming to-morrow, because he wrote +me about it, and promised to come to my dance. But he is a very busy +man, so I don't suppose he will arrive till just before. He wrote me +from Gilgit, so he may find Gilbert there and bring him up with him." + +Marker, Marker. The air seemed full of the strange name. Lewis saw +again Wratislaw's wrinkled face when he talked of him, and remembered +his words. "You were within an ace of meeting one of the cleverest men +living, a cheerful being in whom the Foreign Office is more interested +than in any one else in the world." Wratislaw had never been in the +habit of talking without good authority. This Marker must be indeed a +gentleman of parts. + +Then conversation dwindled. Lewis, his mind torn between bitter +memories and the pressing necessities of his mission, lent a stupid ear +to Mrs. Logan's mild complaints, her gossip about Bardur, her eager +questions about home. George manfully took his place, and by a +fortunate clumsiness steered the flow of the lady's talk from Glenavelin +and the Wisharts. Lewis spoke now and then, when appealed to, but he +was busy thinking out his own problem. On the morrow night he should +meet Marker, and his work would reveal itself. Meanwhile he was in the +dark, the flimsiest adventurer on the wildest of errands. This easy, +settled place, these Englishmen whose minds held fast by polo and games, +these English ladies who had no thought beyond little social devices to +relieve the monotony of the frontier, all seemed to make a mockery of +his task. He had fondly imagined himself going to a certainty of toil +and danger; to his vexation this certainty seemed to be changing into +the most conventional of visits to the most normal of places. But +to-morrow he should see Marker; and his hope revived at the prospect. + +"It is so pleasant seeing two fresh fellow-countrymen," Mrs. Logan was +saying. "Do you know, you two people look quite different from our men +up here. They are all so dried up and tired out. Our complexions are +all gone, and our eyes have got that weariness of the sun in them which +never goes away even when we go home again. But you two look quite keen +and fresh and enthusiastic. You mustn't mind compliments from an old +woman, but I wish our own people looked as nice as you. You will make +us all homesick." + +A native servant entered, more noiseless and more dignified than any +English footman, and announced another visitor. Lewis lifted his head, +and saw the lady rise, smiling, to greet a tall man who had come in with +the frankness of a privileged acquaintance. "How do you do, Mr. +Marker?" he heard. "I am so glad to see you. We didn't dare to expect +you till to-morrow. May I introduce two English friends, Mr. Haystoun +and Mr. Winterham?" + +And so the meeting came about in the simplest way. Lewis found himself +shaking hands cordially with a man who stood upright, quite in the +English fashion, and smiled genially on the two strangers. Then he took +the vacant chair by Mrs. Logan, and answered the lady's questions with +the ease and kindliness of one who knows and likes his fellow-creatures. +He deplored Logan's absence, grew enthusiastic about the dance, and +produced from a pocket certain sweetmeats, not made in Kashmir, for the +two children. Then he turned to George and asked pleasantly about the +journey. How did they find the roads from Gilgit? He hoped they would +get good sport, and if he could be of any service, would they command +him? He had heard of Lewis's former visit, and, of course, he had read +his book. The most striking book of travel he had seen for long. Of +course he didn't agree with certain things, but each man for his own +view; and he should like to talk over the matter with Mr. Haystoun. +Were they staying long? At Galetti's of course? By good luck that was +also his headquarters. And so he talked pleasingly, in the style of a +lady's drawing-room, while Lewis, his mind consumed with interest, sat +puzzling out the discords in his face. + +"Do you know, Mr. Marker, we were talking about you before you came in. +I was telling Mr. Haystoun that I thought you were half Scotch. Mr. +Haystoun, you know, lives in Scotland." + +"Do you really? Then I am a thousand times delighted to meet you, for I +have many connections with Scotland. My grandmother was a Scotswoman, +and though I have never been in your beautiful land, yet I have known +many of your people. And, indeed, I have heard of one of your name who +was a friend of my father's--a certain Mr. Haystoun of Etterick." + +"My father," said Lewis. + +"Ah, I am so pleased to hear. My father and he met often in Paris, when +they were attached to their different embassies. My father was in the +German service." + +"Your mother was Russian, was she not?" Lewis asked tactlessly, impelled +by he knew not what motive. + +"Ah, how did you know?" Mr. Marker smiled in reply, with the slightest +raising of the eyebrows. "I have indeed the blood of many nationalities +in my veins. Would that I were equally familiar with all nations, for I +know less of Russia than I know of Scotland. We in Germany are their +near neighbours, and love them, as you do here, something less than +ourselves." + +He talked English with that pleasing sincerity which seems inseparable +from the speech of foreigners, who use a purer and more formal idiom +than ourselves. George looked anxiously towards Lewis, with a question +in his eyes, but finding his companion abstracted, he spoke himself. + +"I have just arrived," said the other simply; "but it was from a +different direction. I have been shooting in the hills, getting cool +air into my lungs after the valleys. Why, Mrs. Logan, I have been down +to Rawal Pindi since I saw you last, and have been choked with the sun. +We northerners do not take kindly to glare and dust." + +"But you are an old hand here, they tell me. I wish you'd show me the +ropes, you know. I'm very keen, but as ignorant as a babe. What sort +of rifles do they use here? I wish you'd come and look at my +ironmongery." And George plunged into technicalities. + +When Lewis rose to leave, following unwillingly the convention which +forbids a guest to stay more than five minutes after a new visitor has +arrived, Marker crossed the room with them. "If you're not engaged for +to-night, Mr. Haystoun, will you do me the honour to dine with me? I +am alone, and I think we might manage to find things to talk about." +Lewis accepted gladly, and with one of his sweetest smiles the gentleman +returned to Mrs. Logan's side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DINNER AT GALETTI'S + + +"I have heard of you so much," Mr. Marker said, "and it was a lucky +chance which brought me to Bardur to meet you." They had taken their +cigars out to the verandah, and were drinking the strong Persian coffee, +with a prospect before them of twinkling town lights, and a mountain +line of rock and snow. Their host had put on evening clothes and wore a +braided dinner-jacket which gave the faintest touch of the foreigner to +his appearance. At dinner he had talked well of a score of things. He +had answered George's questions on sport with the readiness of an +expert; he had told a dozen good stories, and in an easy, pleasant way +he had gossiped of books and places, people and politics. His knowledge +struck both men as uncanny. Persons of minute significance in +Parliament were not unknown to him, and he was ready with a theory or an +explanation on the most recondite matters. But coffee and cigars found +him a different man. He ceased to be the enthusiast, the omnivorous and +versatile inquirer, and relapsed into the ordinary good fellow, who is +no cleverer than his neighbours. + +"We're confoundedly obliged to you," said George. "Haystoun is keen +enough, but when he was out last time he seems to have been very slack +about the sport." + +"Sort of student of frontier peoples and politics, as the newspapers +call it. I fancy that game is, what you say, 'played out' a little +nowadays. It is always a good cry for alarmist newspapers to send up +their circulation by, but you and I, my friend, who have mixed with +serious politicians, know its value." + +George nodded. He liked to be considered a person of importance, and he +wanted the conversation to get back to ibex. + +"I speak as of a different nation," Marker said, looking towards Lewis. +"But I find the curse of modern times is this mock-seriousness. Some +centuries ago men and women were serious about honour and love and +religion. Nowadays we are frivolous and sceptical about these things, +but we are deadly in earnest about fads. Plans to abolish war, schemes +to reform criminals, and raise the condition of woman, and supply the +Bada-Mawidi with tooth-picks are sure of the most respectful treatment +and august patronage." + +"I agree," said Lewis. "The Bada-Mawidi live there?" And he pointed to +the hill line. + +Marker nodded. He had used the name inadvertently as an illustration, +and he had no wish to answer questions on the subject. + +"A troublesome tribe, rather?" asked Lewis, noticing the momentary +hesitation. + +"In the past. Now they are quiet enough." + +"But I understood that there was a ferment in the Pamirs. The other +side threatened, you know." He had almost said "your side," but checked +himself. + +"Ah yes, there are rumours of a rising, but that is further west. The +Bada-Mawidi are too poor to raise two swords in the whole tribe. You +will come across them if you go north, and I can recommend them as +excellent beaters." + +"Is the north the best shooting quarter?" asked Lewis with sharp eyes. +"I am just a little keen on some geographical work, and if I can join +both I shall be glad. Due north is the Russian frontier? + +"Due north after some scores of the most precipitous miles in the world. +It is a preposterous country. I myself have been on the verge of it, +and know it as well as most. The geographical importance, too, is +absurdly exaggerated. It has never been mapped because there is nothing +about it to map, no passes, no river, no conspicuous mountain, nothing +but desolate, unvaried rock. The pass to Yarkand goes to the east, and +the Afghan routes are to the west. But to the north you come to a wall, +and if you have wings you may get beyond it. The Bada-Mawidi live in +some of the wretched nullahs. There is sport, of course, of a kind, but +not perhaps the best. I should recommend you to try the more easterly +hills." + +The speaker's manner was destitute of all attempt to dissuade, and yet +Lewis felt in some remote way that this man was trying to dissuade him. +The rock-wall, the Bada-Mawidi, whatever it was, something existed +between Bardur and the Russian frontier which this pleasant gentleman +did not wish him to see. + +"Our plans are all vague," he said, "and of course we are glad of your +advice." + +"And I am glad to give it, though in many ways you know the place better +than I do. Your book is the work of a very clever and observant man, if +you will excuse my saying so. I was thankful to find that you were not +the ordinary embryo-publicist who looks at the frontier hills from +Bardur, and then rushes home and talks about invasion." + +"You think there is no danger, then?" + +"On the contrary, I honestly think that there is danger, but from a +different direction. Britain is getting sick, and when she is sick +enough, some people who are less sick will overwhelm her. My own +opinion is that Russia will be the people." + +"But is not that one of the old cries that you object to?" and Lewis +smiled. + +"It was; now it is ceasing to be a cry, and passing into a fact, or as +much a fact as that erroneous form of gratuity, prophecy, can be. Look +at Western Europe and you cannot disbelieve the evidence of your own +eyes. In France you have anarchy, the vulgarest frivolity and the +cheapest scepticism, joined with a sort of dull capacity for routine +work. Germany, the very heart of it eaten out with sentiment, either +the cheap military or the vague socialist brand. Spain and Italy +shadows, Denmark and Sweden farces, Turkey a sinful anachronism." + +"And Britain?" George asked. + +"My Scotch blood gives me the right to speak my mind," said the man, +laughing. "Honestly I don't find things much better in Britain. You +were always famous for a dogged common sense which was never tricked +with catch-words, and yet the British people seem to be growing nervous +and ingenuous. The cult of abstract ideals, which has been the curse of +the world since Adam, is as strong with you as elsewhere. The +philosophy of 'gush' is good enough in its place, but it is the devil in +politics." + +"That is true enough," said Lewis solemnly. "And then you are losing +grip. A belief in sentiment means a disbelief in competence and +strength, and that is the last and fatalest heresy. And a belief in +sentiment means a foolish scepticism towards the great things of life. +There is none of the blood and bone left for honest belief. You hold +your religion half-heartedly. Honest fanaticism is a thing intolerable +to you. You are all mild, rational sentimentalists, and I would not +give a ton of it for an ounce of good prejudice." George and Lewis +laughed. + +"And Russia?" they asked. + +"Ah, there I have hope. You have a great people, uneducated and +unspoiled. They are physically strong, and they have been trained by +centuries of serfdom to discipline and hardships. Also, there is fire +smouldering somewhere. You must remember that Russia is the +stepdaughter of the East. The people are northern in the truest sense, +but they have a little of Eastern superstition. A rational, sentimental +people live in towns or market gardens, like your English country, but +great lonely plains and forests somehow do not agree with that sort of +creed. That slow people can still believe freshly and simply, and some +day when the leader arrives they will push beyond their boundaries and +sweep down on Western Europe, as their ancestors did thirteen hundred +years ago. And you have no walls of Rome to resist them, and I do not +think you will find a Charlemagne. Good heavens! What can your +latter-day philosophic person, who weighs every action and believes only +in himself, do against an unwearied people with the fear of God in their +hearts? When that day comes, my masters, we shall have a new empire, +the Holy Eastern Empire, and this rotten surface civilization of ours +will be swept off. It is always the way. Men get into the habit of +believing that they can settle everything by talk, and fancy themselves +the arbiters of the world, and then suddenly the great man arrives, your +Caesar or Cromwell, and clears out the talkers." + +"I've heard something like that before. In fact, on occasions I have +said it myself. It's a pretty idea. How long do you give this +_Volkerwanderung_ to get started?" + +"It will not be in our time," said the man sadly. "I confess I am +rather anxious for it to come off. Europe is a dull place at present, +given up to Jews and old women. But I am an irreclaimable wanderer, and +it is some time since I have been home. Things may be already +changing." + +"Scarcely," said Lewis. "And meantime where is this Slav invasion going +to begin? I suppose they will start with us here, before they cross the +Channel?" + +"Undoubtedly. But Britain is the least sick of the crew, so she may be +left in peace till the confirmed invalids are destroyed. At the best it +will be a difficult work. Our countrymen, you will permit the name, my +friends, have unexpected possibilities in their blood. And even this +India will be a hard nut to crack. It is assumed that Russia has but to +find Britain napping, buy a passage from the more northerly tribes, and +sweep down on the Punjab. I need not tell you how impossible such a +land invasion is. It is my opinion that when the time comes the attack +will be by sea from some naval base on the Persian Gulf. It is a mere +matter of time till Persia is the Tsar's territory, and then they may +begin to think about invasion." + +"You think the northern road impossible! I suppose you ought to know." + +"I do, and I have some reason for my opinion. I know Afghanistan and +Chitral as few Europeans know it." + +"But what about Bardur, and this Kashmir frontier? I can understand the +difficulties of the Khyber, but this Kashmir road looks promising." + +Marker laughed a great, good-humoured, tolerant, incredulous laugh. "My +dear sir, that's the most utter nonsense. How are you to bring an army +over a rock wall which a chamois hunter could scarcely climb? An +invading army is not a collection of winged fowl. I grant you Bardur is +a good starting-point if it were once reached. But you might as well +think of a Chinese as of a Russian invasion from the north. It would be +a good deal more possible, for there is a road to Yarkand, and +respectable passes to the north-east. But here we are shut off from the +Oxus by as difficult a barrier as the Elburz. Go up and see. There is +some shooting to be had, and you will see for yourself the sort of +country between here and Taghati." + +"But people come over here sometimes." + +"Yes, from the south, or by Afghanistan." + +"Not always. What about the Korabaut Pass into Chitral? Ianoff and the +Cossacks came through it." + +"That's true," said the man, as if in deep thought. "I had forgotten, +but the band was small and the thing was a real adventure." + +"And then you have Gromchevtsky. He brought his people right down +through the Pamirs." + +For a second the man's laughing ease deserted him. He leaned his head +forward and peered keenly into Lewis's face. Then, as if to cover his +discomposure, he fell into the extreme of bluff amusement. The +exaggeration was plain to both his hearers. + +"Oh yes, there was poor old Gromchevtsky. But then you know he was what +you call 'daft,' and one never knew how much to believe. He had hatred +of the English on the brain, and he went about the northern valleys +making all sorts of wild promises on the part of the Tsar. A great +Russian army was soon to come down from the hills and restore the +valleys to their former owners. And then, after he had talked all this +nonsense, and actually managed to create some small excitement among the +tribesmen, the good fellow disappeared. No man knows where he went. +The odd thing is that I believe he has never been heard of again in +Russia to this day. Of course his mission, as he loved to call it, was +perfectly unauthorized, and the man himself was a creature of farce. He +probably came either by the Khyber or the Korabaut Pass, possibly even +by the ordinary caravan-route from Yarkand, but felt it necessary for +his mission's sake to pretend he had found some way through the rock +barrier. I am afraid I cannot allow him to be taken seriously." + +Lewis yawned and reached out his hand for the cigars. "In any case it +is merely a question of speculative interest. We shall not fall just +yet, though you think so badly of us." + +"You will not fall just yet," said Marker slowly, "but that is not your +fault. You British have sold your souls for something less than the +conventional mess of pottage. You are ruled in the first place by +money-bags, and the faddists whom they support to blind your eyes. If I +were a young man in your country with my future to make, do you know +what I would do? I would slave in the Stock Exchange. I would spend my +days and nights in the pursuit of fortune, and, by heaven, I would get +it. Then I would rule the market and break, crush, quietly and +ruthlessly, the whole gang of Jew speculators and vulgarians who would +corrupt a great country. Money is power with you, and I should attain +it, and use it to crush the leeches who suck our blood." + +"Good man," said George, laughing. "That's my way of thinking. Never +heard it better put." + +"I have felt the same," said Lewis. "When I read of 'rings' and +'corners' and 'trusts' and the misery and vulgarity of it all, I have +often wished to have a try myself, and see whether average brains and +clean blood could not beat these fellows on their own ground." + +"Then why did you not?" asked Marker. "You were rich enough to make a +proper beginning." + +"I expect I was too slack. I wanted to try the thing, but there was so +much that was repulsive that I never quite got the length of trying. +Besides, I have a bad habit of seeing both sides of a question. The +ordinary arguments seemed to me weak, and it was too much fag to work +out an attitude for oneself." + +Marker looked sharply at Lewis, and George for a moment saw and +contrasted the two faces. Lewis's keen, kindly, humorous, cultured, +with strong lines ending weakly, a face over-bred, brave and finical; +the other's sharp, eager, with the hungry wolf-like air of ambition, +every line graven in steel, and the whole transfused, as it were, by the +fire of the eyes into the living presentment of human vigour. + +It was the eternal contrast of qualities, and for a moment in George's +mind there rose a delight that two such goodly pieces of manhood should +have found a meeting-ground. + +"I think, you know, that we are not quite so bad as you make out," said +Lewis quietly. "To an outsider we must appear on the brink of +incapacity, but then it is not the first time we have produced that +impression. You will still find men who in all their spiritual sickness +have kept something of that restless, hard-bitten northern energy, and +that fierce hunger for righteousness, which is hard to fight with. +Scores of people, who can see no truth in the world and are sick with +doubt and introspection and all the latter-day devils, have yet +something of pride and honour in their souls which will make them show +well at the last. If we are going to fall our end will not be quite +inglorious." + +Marker laughed and rose. "I am afraid I must leave you now. I have to +see my servant, for I am off to-morrow. This has been a delightful +meeting. I propose that we drink to its speedy repetition." + +They drank, clinking glasses in continental fashion, and the host shook +hands and departed. + +"Good chap," was George's comment. "Put us up to a wrinkle or two, and +seemed pretty sound in his politics. I wish I could get him to come and +stop with me at home. Do you think we shall run across him again?" + +Lewis was looking at the fast vanishing lights of the town. "I should +think it highly probable," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE TACTICS OF A CHIEF + + +There is another quarter in Bardur besides the English one. Down by the +stream side there are narrow streets built on the scarp of the rock, +hovels with deep rock cellars, and a wonderful amount of cubic space +beneath the brushwood thatch. There the trader from Yarkand who has +contraband wares to dispose of may hold a safe market. And if you were +to go at nightfall into this quarter, where the foot of the Kashmir +policeman rarely penetrates, you might find shaggy tribesmen who have +been all their lives outlaws, walking unmolested to visit their friends, +and certain Jewish gentlemen, members of the great family who have +conquered the world, engaged in the pursuit of their unlawful calling. + +Marker speedily left the broader streets of the European quarter, and +plunged down a steep alley which led to the stream. Half way down there +was a lane to the left in the line of hovels, and, after stopping a +moment to consider, he entered this. It was narrow and dark, but smelt +cleanly enough of the dry granite sand. There were little dark +apertures in the huts, which might have been either doors or windows, +and at one of these he stopped, lit a match, and examined it closely. +The result was satisfactory; for the man, who had hitherto been +crouching, straightened himself up and knocked. The door opened +instantaneously, and he bowed his tall head to enter a narrow passage. +This brought him into a miniature courtyard, about thirty feet across, +above which gleamed a patch of violet sky, sown with stars. Below a +door on the right a light shone, and this he pushed open, and entered a +little room. + +The place was richly furnished, with low couches and Persian tables, and +on the floor a bright matting. The short, square-set man sitting +smoking on the divan we have already met at a certain village in the +mountains. Fazir Khan, descendant of Abraham, and father and chief of +the Bada-Mawidi, has a nervous eye and an uneasy face to-night, for it +is a hard thing for a mountaineer, an inhabitant of great spaces, to sit +with composure in a trap-like room in the citadel of a foe who has many +acts of rape and murder to avenge on his body. To do Fazir Khan justice +he strove to conceal his restlessness under the usual impassive calm of +his race. He turned his head slightly as Marker entered, nodded gravely +over the bowl of his pipe, and pointed to the seat at the far end of the +divan. + +"It is a dark night," he said. "I heard you stumbling on the causeway +before you entered. And I have many miles to cover before dawn." + +Marker nodded. "Then you must make haste, my friend. You must be in +the hills by daybreak, for I have some errands I want you to do for me. +I have to-night been dining with two strangers, who have come up from +the south." + +The chief's eyes sparkled. "Do they suspect?" + +"Nothing in particular, everything in general. They are English. One +was here before and got far up into your mountains. He wrote a clever +book when he returned, which made people think. They say their errand +is sport, and it may be. On the other hand I have a doubt. One has not +the air of the common sportsman. He thinks too much, and his eyes have +a haggard look. It is possible that they are in their Government's +services and have come to reconnoitre." + +"Then we are lost," said Fazir Khan sourly. "It was always a fool's +plan, at the mercy of any wandering Englishman." + +"Not so," said Marker. "Nothing is lost, and nothing will be lost. But +I fear these two men. They do not bluster and talk at random like the +others. They are so very quiet that they may mean danger." + +"They must remain here," said the chief. "Give me the word, and I will +send one of my men to hough their horses and, if need be, cripple +themselves." + +Marker laughed. "You are an honest fool, Fazir Khan. That sort of +thing is past now. We live in the wrong times and places for it. We +cannot keep them here, but we must send them on a goose-chase. Do you +understand?" + +"I understand nothing. I am a simple man and my ways are simple, and +not as yours." + +"Then attend to my words, my friend. Our expedition must be changed and +made two days sooner. That will give these two Englishmen three days +only to checkmate it. Besides, they are ignorant, and to-morrow is lost +to them, for they go to a ball at the Logan woman's. Still, I fear them +with two days to work in. If they go north, they are clever and +suspicious, and they may see or fancy enough to wreck our plans. They +may have the way barred, and we know how little would bar the way." + +"Ten resolute men," said the chief. "Nay, I myself, with my two sons, +would hold a force at bay there." + +"If that is true, how much need is there to be wary beforehand! Since +we cannot prevent these men from meddling, we can give them rope to +meddle in small matters. Let us assume that they have been sent out by +their Government. They are the common make of Englishmen, worshipping a +god which they call their honour. They will do their duty if they can +find it out. Now there is but one plan, to create a duty for them which +will take them out of the way." + +The chief was listening with half-closed eyes. He saw new trouble for +himself and was not cheerful. + +"Do you know how many men Holm has with him at the Forza camp?" + +"A score and a half. Some of my people passed that way yesterday, when +the soldiers were parading." + +"And there are two more camps? + +"There are two beyond the Nazri Pass, on the fringe of the Doorab hills. +We call the places Khautmi-sa and Khautmi-bana, but the English have +their own names for them." + +Marker nodded. + +"I know the places. They are Gurkha camps. The officers are called +Mitchinson and St. John. They will give us little trouble. But the +Forza garrison is too near the pass for safety, and yet far enough away +for my plans." And for a moment the man's eyes were abstracted, as if in +deep thought. + +"I have another thing to tell of the Forza camp," the chief interrupted. +"The captain, the man whom they call Holm, is sick, so sick that he +cannot remain there. He went out shooting and came too near to +dangerous places, so a bullet of one of my people's guns found his leg. +He will be coming to Bardur to-morrow. Is it your wish that he be +prevented? + +"Let him come," said Marker. "He will suit my purpose. Now I will tell +you your task, Fazir Khan, for it is time that you took the road. You +will take a hundred of the Bada-Mawidi and put them in the rocks round +the Forza camp. Let them fire a few shots but do no great damage, lest +this man Holm dare not leave. If I know the man at all, he will only +hurry the quicker when he hears word of trouble, for he has no stomach +for danger, if he can get out of it creditably. So he will come down +here to-morrow with a tale of the Bada-Mawidi in arms, and find no men +in the place to speak of, except these two strangers. I will have +already warned them of this intended rising, and if, as I believe, they +serve the Government, they will let no grass grow below their feet till +they get to Forza. Then on the day after let your tribesmen attack the +place, not so as to take it, but so as to make a good show of fight and +keep the garrison employed. This will keep these young men quiet; they +will think that all rumours they may have heard culminate in this rising +of yours, and they will be content, and satisfied that they have done +their duty. Then, the day after, while they are idling at Forza, we +will slip through the passes, and after that there will be no need for +ruses." + +The chief rose and pulled himself up to his full height. "After that," +he said, "there will be work for men. God! We shall harry the valleys +as our forefathers harried them, and we shall suck the juicy plains dry. +You will give us a free hand, my lord?" + +"Your hand shall be free enough," said Marker. "But see that every word +of my bidding is done. We fail utterly unless all is secret and swift. +It is the lion attacking the village. If he crosses the trap gate safely +he may ravage at his pleasure, but there is first the trap to cross. And +now it is your time to leave." + +The mountaineer tightened his girdle, and exchanged his slippers for +deer-hide boots. He bowed gravely to the other and slipped out into the +darkness of the court. Marker drew forth some plans and writing +materials from his great-coat pocket and spread them before him on the +table. It was a thing he had done a hundred times within the last week, +and as he made his calculations again and traced his route anew, his +action showed the tinge of nervousness to which the strongest natures at +times must yield. Then he wrote a letter, and, yawning deeply, he shut +up the place and returned to Galetti's. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MRS. LOGAN'S BALL + + +When Lewis had finished breakfast next morning, and was sitting idly on +the verandah watching the busy life of the bazaar at his feet, a letter +was brought him by a hotel servant. "It was left for you by Marker +Sahib, when he went away this morning. He sent his compliments to the +sahibs and regretted that he had to leave too early to speak with them, +but he left this note." Lewis broke the envelope and read: + +/# + DEAR MR. HAYSTOUN, + + When I was thinking over our conversation last night, chance put a + piece of information in my way which you may think fit to use. You + know that I am more intimate than most people with the hill tribes. + Well, let this be the guarantee of my news, but do not ask how I + got it, for I cannot betray friends. Some of these, the Bada-Mawidi + to wit, are meditating mischief. The Forza camp, which I think you + have visited--a place some twenty miles off--is too near those + villages to be safe. So to-morrow at latest they have planned to + make a general attack upon it, and, unless the garrison were + prepared, I should fear for the result, for they are the most + cunning scoundrels in the world. What puzzles me is how they have + ever screwed up the courage for such a move, for lately they were + very much in fear of the Government. It appears as if they looked + for backing from over the frontier. You will say that this proves + your theory; but to me it merely seems as if some maniac of the + Gromchevtsky type had got among them. In any case I wish something + could be done. My duties take me away at once, and in a very + different direction, but perhaps you could find some means of + putting the camp on their guard. I should be sorry to hear of a + tragedy; also I should be sorry to see the Bada-Mawidi get into + trouble. They are foolish blackguards, but amusing. + + Yours most sincerely, + + ARTHUR MARKER. +#/ + +Lewis read the strange letter several times through, then passed it to +George. George read it with difficulty, not being accustomed to a +flowing frontier hand. "Jolly decent of him, I call it," was his +remark. + +"I would give a lot to know what to make of it. The man is playing some +game, but what the deuce it is I can't fathom." + +"I suppose we had better get up to that Forza place as soon as we can." + +"I think not," said Lewis. + +"The man's honest, surely?" + +"But he is also clever. Remember who he is. He may wish to get us out +of the way. I don't suppose that he can possibly fear us, but he may +want the coast clear from suspicious spectators. Besides, I don't see +the good of Forza. It is not the part of the hills I want to explore. +There can be no frontier danger there, and at the worst there can be +nothing more than a little tribal disturbance. Now what on earth would +Russia gain by moving the tribes there, except as a blind?" + +"Still, you know, the man admits all that in his letter. And if the +people up there are going to be in trouble we ought to go and give them +notice." + +"I'll take an hour to think over it, and then I'll go and see Thwaite. +He was to be back this morning." + +Lewis spread the letter before him. It was a simple, friendly note, +giving him a chance of doing a good turn to friends. His clear course +was to lay it before Thwaite and shift the responsibility for action to +his shoulders. But he felt all the while that this letter had a +personal application which he could not conceal. It would have been as +easy for Marker to send the note to Thwaite, whom he had long known. +But he had chosen to warn him privately. It might be a ruse, but he had +no glimpse of the meaning. Or, again, it might be a piece of pure +friendliness, a chance of unofficial adventure given by one wanderer to +another. He puzzled it out, lamenting that he was so deep in the dark, +and cursing his indecision. Another man would have made up his mind +long ago; it was a ruse, therefore let it be neglected and remain in +Bardur with open eyes; it was good faith and a good chance, therefore +let him go at once. But to Lewis the possibilities seemed endless, and +he could find no solution save the old one of the waverer, to wait for +further light. + +He found Thwaite at breakfast, just returned from his travels. + +"Hullo, Haystoun. I heard you were here. Awfully glad to see you. Sit +down, won't you, and have some breakfast." The officer was a long man, +with a thin, long face, a reddish moustache, and small, blue eyes. + +"I came to ask you questions, if you don't mind. I have the regular +globe-trotter's trick of wanting information. What's the Forza camp +like? Do you think that the Bada-Mawidi, supposing they stir again, +would be likely to attack it?" + +"Not a bit of it. That was the sort of thing that Gribton was always +croaking about. Why, man, the Bada-Mawidi haven't a kick in them. +Besides, they are very nearly twenty miles off and the garrison's a very +fit lot. They're all right. Trust them to look after themselves." + +"But I have been hearing stories of Bada-Mawidi risings which are to +come off soon." + +"Oh, you'll always hear stories of that sort. All the old women in the +neighbourhood purvey them." + +"Who are in charge at Forza?" + +"Holm and Andover. Don't care much for Holm, but Andy is a good chap. +But what's this new interest of yours? Are you going up there? + +"I'm out here to shoot and explore, you know, so Forza comes into my +beat. Thanks very much. See you to-night, I suppose." + +Lewis went away dispirited and out of temper. He had been pitchforked +among easy-going people, when all the while mysterious things, dangerous +things, seemed to hang in the air. He had not the material for even the +first stages of comprehension. No one suspected, every one was +satisfied; and at the same time came those broken hints of other things. +He felt choked and muffled, wrapped in the cotton-wool of this easy +life; and all the afternoon he chafed at his own impotence and the +world's stupidity. + +When the two travellers presented themselves at the Logans' house that +evening, they were immediately seized upon by the hostess and compelled, +to their amusement, to do her bidding. They were her discoveries, her +new young men, and as such, they had their responsibilities. George, +who liked dancing, obeyed meekly; but Lewis, being out of temper and +seeing before him an endless succession of wearisome partners, soon +broke loose, and accompanied Thwaite to the verandah for a cigar. + +The man was ill at ease, and the sight of young faces and the sound of +laughter vexed him with a sense of his eccentricity. He could never, +like George, take the world as he found it. At home he was the slave of +his own incapacity; now he was the slave of memories. He had come out +on an errand, with a chance to recover his lost self-respect, and lo! +he was as far as ever from attainment. His lost capacity for action was +not to be found here, in the midst of this petty diplomacy and +inglorious ease. + +From the verandah a broad belt of lawn ran down to the edge of the north +road. It lay shining in the moonlight like a field of snow with the +highway a dark ribbon beyond it. Thwaite and Lewis walked down to the +gate talking casually, and at the gate they stopped and looked down on +the town. It lay a little to the left, the fort rising black before it, +and the road ending in a patch of shade which was the old town gate. +The night was very still, cool airs blew noiselessly from the hills, and +a jackal barked hoarsely in some far-off thicket. + +The men hung listlessly on the gate, drinking in the cool air and +watching the blue cigar smoke wreathe and fade. Suddenly down the road +there came the sound of wheels. + +"That's a tonga," said Thwaite. "Wonder who it is." + +"Do tongas travel this road?" Lewis asked. + +"Oh yes, they go ten miles up to the foot of the rocks. We use them for +sending up odds and ends to the garrisons. After that coolies are the +only conveyance. Gad, I believe this thing is going to stop." + +The thing in question, which was driven by a sepoy in bright yellow +pyjamas, stopped at the Logans' gate. A peevish voice was heard giving +directions from within. + +"It sounds like Holm," said Thwaite, walking up to it, "and upon my soul +it is Holm. What on earth are you doing here, my dear fellow?" + +"Is that you, Thwaite?" said the voice. "I wish you'd help me out. I +want Logan to give me a bed for the night. I'm infernally ill." + +Lewis looked within and saw a pale face and bloodshot eyes which did not +belie the words. + +"What is it?" said Thwaite. "Fever or anything smashed?" + +"I've got a bullet in my leg which has got to be cut out. Got it two +days ago when I was out shooting. Some natives up in the rocks did it, +I fancy. Lord, how it hurts." And the unhappy man groaned as he tried +to move. + +"That's bad," said Thwaite sympathetically. "The Logans have got a +dance on, but we'll look after you all right. How did you leave things +in Forza?" + +"Bad. I oughtn't to be here, but Andy insisted. He said I would only +get worse and crock entirely. Things look a bit wild up there just now. +There has been a confounded lot of rifle-stealing, and the Bada-Mawidi +are troublesome. However, I hope it's only their fun." + +"I hope so," said Thwaite. "You know Haystoun, don't you?" + +"Glad to meet you," said the man. "Heard of you. Coming up our way? I +hope you will after I get this beastly leg of mine better." + +"Thwaite will tell you I have been cross-examining him about your place. +I wanted badly to ask you about it, for I got a letter this morning from +a man called Marker with some news for you." + +"What did he say?" asked Holm sharply. + +"He said that he had heard privately that the Bada-Mawidi were planning +an attack on you to-morrow or the day after." + +"The deuce they are," said Holm peevishly, and Thwaite's face +lengthened. + +"And he told me to find some way of letting you know." + +"Then why didn't you tell me earlier?" said Thwaite. "Marker should +know if anybody does. We should have kept Holm up there. Now it's +almost too late. Oh, this is the devil!" + +Lewis held his peace. He had forgotten the solidity of Marker's +reputation. + +"What's the chances of the place?" Thwaite was asking. "I know your +numbers and all that, but are they anything like prepared?" + +"I don't know," said Holm miserably. "They might get on all right, but +everybody is pretty slack just now. Andy has a touch of fever, and some +of the men may get leave for shooting. I must get back at once." + +"You can't. Why, man, you couldn't get half way. And what's more, I +can't go. This place wants all the looking after it can get. A row in +the hills means a very good possibility of a row in Bardur, and that is +too dangerous a game. And besides myself there is scarcely a man in the +place who counts. Logan has gone to Gilgit, and there's nobody left but +boys." + +"If you don't mind I should like to go," said Lewis shamefacedly. + +"You," they cried. "Do you know the road?" + +"I've been there before, and I remember it more or less. Besides, it is +really my show this time. I got the warning, and I want the credit." +And he smiled. + +"The road's bound to be risky," said Thwaite thoughtfully. "I don't +feel inclined to let you run your neck into danger like this." + +Lewis was busy turning over the problem in his mind. The presence of +the man Holm seemed the one link of proof he needed. He had his word +that there were signs of trouble in the place, and that the Bada-Mawidi +were ill at ease. Whatever game Marker was playing, on this matter he +seemed to have spoken in good faith. Here was a clear piece of work for +him. And even if it was fruitless it would bring him nearer to the +frontier; his expedition to the north would be begun. + +"Let me go," he said. "I came out here to explore the hills and I take +all risks on my own head. I can give them Marker's message as well as +anybody else." + +Thwaite looked at Holm. "I don't see why he shouldn't. You're a wreck, +and I can't leave my own place." + +"Tell Andy you saw me," cried Holm. "He'll be anxious. And tell him to +mind the north gate. If the fools knew how to use dynamite they might +have it down at once. If they attack it can't last long, but then they +can't last long either, for they are hard up for arms, and unless they +have changed since last week they have no ammunition to speak of." + +"Marker said it looked as if they were being put up to the job from over +the frontier." + +"Gad, then it's my turn to look out," said Thwaite. "If it's the +gentlemen from over the frontier they won't stop at Forza. Lord, I hate +this border business, it's so hideously in the dark. But I think that's +all rot. Any tribal row here is sure to be set down to Russian +influence. We don't understand the joint possession of an artificial +frontier," he added, with an air of quoting from some book. + +"Did you get that from Marker?" Holm asked crossly. "He once said the +same thing to me." His temper had suffered badly among the hills. + +"We'd better get you to bed, my dear fellow," said Thwaite, looking down +at him. "You look remarkably cheap. Would you mind going in and trying +to find Mrs. Logan, Haystoun? I'll carry this chap in. Stop a minute, +though. Perhaps he's got something to say to you." + +"Mind the north gate ... tell Andy I'm all right and make him look +after himself ... he's overworking ... if you want to send a +message to the other people you'd better send by Nazri ... if the +Badas mean business they'll shut up the road you go by. That's all. +Good luck and thanks very much." + +Lewis found Mrs. Logan making a final inspection of the supper-room. +She ran to the garden, to find the invalid Holm in Thwaite's arms at the +steps of the verandah. The sick warrior pulled off an imaginary cap and +smiled feebly. + +"Oh, Mr. Holm, I'm so sorry. Of course we can have you. I'll put you in +the other end of the house where you won't be so much troubled with the +noise. You must have had a dreadful journey." And so forth, with the +easy condolences of a kind woman. + +When Thwaite had laid down his burden, he turned to Lewis. + +"I wish we had another man, Haystoun. What about your friend Winterham? +One's enough to do your work, but if the thing turns out to be serious, +there ought to be some means of sending word. Andover will want you to +stay, for they are short-handed enough." + +"I'll get Winterham to go and wait for me somewhere. If I don't turn up +by a certain time, he can come and look for me." + +"That will do," said Thwaite, "though it's a stale job for him. Well, +good-bye and good luck to you. I expect there won't be much trouble, +but I wish you had told us in the morning." + +Lewis turned to go and find George. "What a chance I had almost +missed," was the word in his heart. The errand might be futile, the +message a blind, but it was at least movement, action, a possibility. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +FRIEND TO FRIEND + + +He found George sitting down in the verandah after waltzing. His +partner was a sister of Logan's, a dark girl whose husband was Resident +somewhere in Lower Kashmir. The lady gave her hand to Lewis and he took +the vacant seat on the other side. + +He apologized for carrying off her companion, escorted her back to the +ballroom, and then returned to satisfy the amazed George. + +"I want to talk to you. Excuse my rudeness, but I have explained to +Mrs. Tracy. I have a good many things I want to say to you." + +"Where on earth have you been all night, Lewis? I call it confoundedly +mean to go off and leave me to do all the heavy work. I've never been +so busy in my life. Lots of girls and far too few men. This is the +first breathing space I've had. What is it that you want?" + +"I am going off this very moment up into the hills. That letter Marker +sent me this morning has been confirmed. Holm, who commands up at the +Forza fort, has just come down very sick, and he says that the +Bada-Mawidi are looking ugly, and that we should take Marker's word. He +wanted to go back himself but he is too ill, and Thwaite can't leave +here, so I am going. I don't expect there will be much risk, but in +case the rising should be serious I want you to do me a favour." + +"I suppose I can't come with you," said George ruefully. "I know I +promised to let you go your own way before we came out, but I wish you +would let me stick by you. What do you want me to do?" + +"Nothing desperate," said Lewis, laughing. "You can stay on here and +dance till sunrise if you like. But to-morrow I want you to come up to +a certain place at the foot of the hills which I will tell you about, +and wait there. It's about half distance between Forza and the two +Khautmi forts. If the rising turns out to be a simple affair I'll join +you there to-morrow night and we can start our shooting. But if I +don't, I want you to go up to the Khautmi forts and rouse St. John and +Mitchinson and get them to send to Forza. Do you see?" + +Lewis had taken out a pencil and began to sketch a rough plan on +George's shirt cuff. "This will give you an idea of the place. You can +look up a bigger map in the hotel, and Thwaite or any one will give you +directions about the road. There's Forza, and there are the Khautmis +about twenty miles west. Half-way between the two is that long Nazri +valley, and at the top is a tableland strewn with boulders where you +shoot mountain sheep. I've been there, and the road between Khautmi and +Forza passes over it. I expect it is a very bad road, but apparently +you can get a little Kashmir pony to travel it. To the north of that +plateau there is said to be nothing but rock and snow for twenty miles +to the frontier. That may be so, but if this thing turns out all right +we'll look into the matter. Anyway, you have got to pitch your tent +to-morrow on that tableland just above the head of the Nazri gully. +With luck I should be able to get to you some time in the afternoon. If +I don't turn up, you go off to Khautmi next morning at daybreak and give +them my message. If I can't come myself I'll find a way to send word; +but if you don't hear from me it will be fairly serious, for it will +mean that the rising is a formidable thing after all. And that, of +course, will mean trouble for everybody all round. In that case you'd +better do what St. John and Mitchinson tell you. You're sure to be +wanted." + +George's face cleared. "That sounds rather sport. I'd better bring up +the servants. They might turn out useful. And I suppose I'll bring a +couple of rifles for you, in case it's all a fraud and we want to go +shooting. I thought the place was going to be stale, but it promises +pretty well now." And he studied the plan on his shirt cuff. Then an +idea came to him. + +"Suppose you find no rising. That will mean that Marker's letter was a +blind of some sort. He wanted to get you out of the way or something. +What will you do then? Come back here?" + +"N--o," said Lewis hesitatingly. "I think Thwaite is good enough, and I +should be no manner of use. You and I will wait up there in the hills +on the off-chance of picking up some news. I swear I won't come back +here to hang about and try and discover things. It's enough to drive a +man crazy." + +"It is rather a ghastly place. Wonder how the Logans thrive here. Odd +mixture this. Strauss and hill tribes not twenty miles apart." + +Lewis laughed. "I think I prefer the hill tribes. I am not in the +humour for Strauss just now. I shall have to be off in an hour, so I am +going to change. See you to-morrow, old man." + +George retired to the ballroom, where he had to endure the reproaches of +Mrs. Logan. He was an abstracted and silent partner, and in the +intervals of dancing he studied his cuff. Miss A talked to him of polo, +and Miss B of home; Miss C discovered that they had common friends, and +Miss D that she had known his sister. Miss E, who was more observant, +saw the cause of his distraction and asked, "What queer hieroglyphics +have you got on your cuff, Mr. Winterham?" + +George looked down in a bewildered way at his sleeve. "Where on earth +have I been?" he asked in wonder. "That's the worst of being an +absent-minded fellow. I've been scribbling on my cuff with my programme +pencil." + +Soon he escaped, and made his way down to the garden gate, where Thwaite +was standing smoking. A _sais_ held a saddled pony by the road-side. +Lewis, in rough shooting clothes, was preparing to mount. From indoors +came the jigging of a waltz tune and the sound of laughter, while far in +the north the cliffs of the pass framed a dark blue cleft where the +stars shone. George drew in great draughts of the cool, fresh air. "I +wish I was coming with you," he said wistfully. + +"You'll be in time enough to-morrow," said Lewis. "I wish you'd give +him all the information you can about the place, Thwaite. He's an +ignorant beggar. See that he remembers to bring food and matches. The +guns are the only things I can promise he won't forget." + +Then he rode off, the little beast bucking excitedly at the patches of +moonlight, and the two men walked back to the house. + +"Hope he comes back all right," said Thwaite. "He's too good a man to +throw away." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE ROAD TO FORZA + + +The road ran in a straight line through the valley of dry rocks, a dull, +modern road, engineered and macadamized up to the edge of the hills. +The click of hoofs raised echoes in the silence, for in all the great +valley, in the chain of pools in the channel, the acres of sun-dried +stone, the granite rocks, the tangle of mountain scrub, there seemed no +life of bird or beast. It was a strange, deathly stillness, and +overhead the purple sky, sown with a million globes of light, seemed so +near and imminent that the glen for the moment was but a vast jewel-lit +cavern, and the sky a fretted roof which spanned the mountains. + +For the first time Lewis felt the East. Hitherto he had been unable to +see anything in his errand but its futility. A stupider man, with a +sharp, practical brain, would have taken himself seriously and come to +Bardur with an intent and satisfied mind. He would have assumed the air +of a diplomatist, have felt the dignity of his mission, and in success +and failure have borne himself with self-confidence. But to Lewis the +business which loomed serious in England, at Bardur took on the colour +of comedy. He felt his impotence, he was touched insensibly by the easy +content of the place. Frontier difficulties seemed matters for romance +and comic opera; and Bardur resolved itself into an English suburb, all +tea-parties and tennis. But at times an austere conscience jogged him +to remembrance, and in one such fitful craving for action and enterprise +he had found this errand. Now at last, astride the little Kashmir pony, +with his face to the polestar and the hills, he felt the mystery of a +strange world, and his work assumed a tinge of the adventurer. This was +new, he told himself; this was romance. He had his eyes turned to a new +land, and the smell of dry mountain sand and scrub, and the vault-like, +imperial sky were the earnest of his inheritance. This was the East, +the gorgeous, the impenetrable. Before him were the hill deserts, and +then the great, warm plains, and the wide rivers, and then on and on to +the cold north, the steppes, the icy streams, the untrodden forests. To +the west and beyond the mountains were holy mosques, "shady cities of +palm trees," great walled towns to which north and west and south +brought their merchandise. And to the east were latitudes more +wonderful, the uplands of the world, the impassable borders of the +oldest of human cultures. Names rang in his head like tunes--Khiva, +Bokhara, Samarkand, the goal of many boyish dreams born of clandestine +suppers and the Arabian Nights. It was an old fierce world he was on +the brink of, and the nervous frontier civilization fell a thousand +miles behind him. + +The white road turned to the right with the valley, and the hills crept +down to the distance of a gun-shot. The mounting tiers of stone and +brawling water caught the moonlight in waves, and now he was in a cold +pit of shadow and now in a patch of radiant moonshine. It was a world +of fantasy, a rousing world of wintry hill winds and sudden gleams of +summer. His spirits rose high, and he forgot all else in plain +enjoyment. Now at last he had found life, rich, wild, girt with +marvels. He was beginning to whistle some air when his pony shied +violently and fell back, and at the same moment a pistol-shot cracked +out of a patch of thorn. + +He turned the beast and rode straight at the thicket, which was a very +little one. The ball had wandered somewhere into the void, and no harm +was done, but he was curious about its owner. Up on the hillside he +seemed to see a dark figure scrambling among the cliffs in the fretted +moonlight. + +It is unpleasant to be shot at in the dark from the wayside, but at the +moment the thing pleased this strange young man. It seemed a token that +at last he was getting to work. He found a rope stretched taut across +the road, which accounted for the pony's stumble. Laughing heartily, he +cut it with his knife, and continued, cheerful as before, but somewhat +less fantastic. Now he kept a sharp eye on all wayside patches. + +At the head of the valley the waters of the stream forked into two +torrents, one flowing from the east in an open glen up which ran the +road to Yarkand, the other descending from the northern hills in a wild +gully. At the foot stood a little hut with an apology for stabling, +where an old and dirty gentleman of the Hunza race pursued his calling +till such time as he should attract the notice of his friends up in the +hills and go to paradise with a slit throat. + +Lewis roused the man with a violent knocking at the door. The old +ruffian appeared with a sputtering lamp which might have belonged to a +cave man, and a head of matted grey hair which suggested the same +origin. He was old and suspicious, but at Lewis's bidding he hobbled +forth and pointed out the stabling. + +"The pony is to stay here till it is called for. Do you hear? And if +Holm Sahib returns and finds that it is not fed he will pay you nothing. +So good night, father. Sound sleep and a good conscience." + +He turned to the twisting hill road which ran up from the light into the +gloom of the cleft with all the vigour of an old mountaineer who has +been long forced to dwell among lowlands. Once a man acquires the art +of hill walking he will always find flat country something of a burden, +and the mere ascent of a slope will have a tonic's power. The path was +good, but perilous at the best, and the proximity of yawning precipices +gave a zest to the travel. The road would fringe a pit of shade, black +but for the gleam of mica and the scattered foam of the stream. It was +no longer a silent world. Hawks screamed at times from the cliffs, and +a multitude of bats and owls flickered in the depths. A continuous +falling of waters, an infinite sighing of night winds, the swaying and +tossing which is always heard in the midmost mountain solitudes, the +crumbling of hill gravel and the bleat of a goat on some hill-side, all +made a cheerful accompaniment to the scraping of his boots on the rocky +road. + +He remembered the way as if he had travelled it yesterday. Soon the +gorge would narrow and he would be almost at the water's edge. Then the +path turned to the right and wound into the heart of a side nullah, +which at length brought it out on a little plateau of rocks. There the +road climbed a long ridge till at last it reached the great plateau, +where Forza, set on a small hilltop, watched thirty miles of primeval +desert. The air was growing chilly, for the road climbed steeply and +already it was many thousand feet above the sea. The curious salt smell +which comes from snow and rock was beginning to greet his nostrils. The +blood flowed more freely in his veins, and insensibly he squared his +shoulders to drink in the cold hill air. It was of the mountains and +yet strangely foreign, an air with something woody and alpine in the +heart of it, an air born of scrub and snow-clad rock, and not of his own +free spaces of heather. But it was hill-born, and this contented him; +it was night-born, and it refreshed him. In a little the road turned +down to the stream side, and he was on the edge of a long dark pool. + +The river, which made a poor show in the broad channel at Bardur, was +now, in this straitened place, a full lipping torrent of clear, green +water. Lewis bathed his flushed face and drank, and it was as cold as +snow. It stung his face to burning, and as he walked the heartsome glow +of great physical content began to rise in his heart. He felt fit and +ready for any work. Life was quick in his sinews, his brain was a +weathercock, his strength was tireless. At last he had found a man's +life. He had never had a chance before. Life had been too easy and +sheltered; he had been coddled like a child; he had never roughed it +except for his own pleasure. Now he was outside this backbone of the +world with a task before him, and only his wits for his servant. Eton +and Oxford, Eton and Oxford--so it had been for generations--an +education sufficient to damn a race. Stocks was right, and he had all +along been wrong; but now he was in a fair way to taste the world's iron +and salt, and he exulted at the prospect. + +It was hard walking in the nullah. In and out of great crevices the +road wound itself, on the brink of stupendous waterfalls, or in the +heart of a brushwood tangle. Soon a clear vault of sky replaced the +out-jutting crags, and he came out on a little plateau where a very cold +wind was blowing. The smell of snow was in the air, a raw smell like +salt when carried on a north wind over miles of granite crags. But on +the little tableland the moon was shining clearly. It was green with +small cloud-berries and dwarf juniper, and the rooty fragrance was for +all the world like an English bolt or a Highland pasture. Lewis flung +himself prone and buried his face among the small green leaves. Then, +still on the ground, he scanned the endless yellow distance. Mountains, +serrated and cleft as in some giant's play, rose on every hand, while +through the hollows gleamed the farther snow-peaks. This little bare +plateau must be naked to any eye on any hill-side, and at the thought he +got to his feet and advanced. + +At first sight the place had looked not a mile long, but before he got +to the farther slope he found that it was nearer two. The mountain air +had given him extraordinary lightness, and he ran the distance, finding +the hard, sandy soil like a track under his feet. The slope, when he +had reached it, proved to be abrupt and boulder-strewn, and the path had +an ugly trick of avoiding steepness by skirting horrible precipices. +Luckily the moon was bright, and the man was an old mountaineer; +otherwise he might have found a grave in the crevices which seamed the +hill. + +He had not gone far when he began to realize that he was not the only +occupant of the mountain side. A whistle which was not a bird's seemed +to catch his ear at times, and once, as he shrank back into the lee of a +boulder, there was the sound of naked feet on the road before him. This +was news indeed, and he crept very cautiously up the rugged path. Once, +when in shelter, he looked out, and for a second, in a patch of +moonlight, he saw a man with the loose breeches and tightened girdle of +the hillmen. He was running swiftly as if to some arranged place of +meeting. + +The sight put all doubts out of his head. An attack on Forza was +imminent, and this was the side from which least danger would be +expected. If the enemy got there before him they would find an easy +entrance. The thought made him quicken his pace. These scattered +tribesmen must meet before they attacked, and there might still be time +for him to get in front. His ears were sharp as a deer's to the +slightest sound. A great joy in the game possessed him. When he +crouched in the shelter of a granite boulder or sprawled among the scrub +while the light footsteps of a tribesman passed on the road he felt that +one point was scored to him in a game in which he had no advantages. He +blessed his senses trained by years of sport to a keenness beyond a +townsman's; his eye, which could see distances clear even in the misty +moonlight; his ear, which could judge the proximity of sounds with a +nice exactness. Twice he was on the brink of discovery. A twig snapped +as he lay in cover, and he heard footsteps pause, and he knew that a +pair of very keen eyes were scanning the brushwood. He blessed his +lucky choice in clothes which had made him bring a suit so near the hue +of his hiding-place. Then he felt that the eyes were averted, the +footsteps died away, and he was safe. Again, as he turned a corner +swiftly, he almost came on the back of a man who was stepping along +leisurely before him. For a second he stopped, and then he was back +round the corner, and had swung himself up to a patch of shadow on the +crag-side. He looked down and saw his enemy clearly in the moonlight; a +long, ferret-faced fellow, with a rifle hung on his back and an ugly +crooked knife in his hand. The man looked round, sniffing the air like +a stag, and then, satisfied that there was nothing to fear, turned and +went on. Lewis, who had been sitting on a sharp jag of rock, swung an +aching body to the ground and advanced circumspectly. + +In an hour or two he came to the top of the slope and the beginning of +the second tableland. A grey dimness was taking the place of the dark, +and it had suddenly grown bitterly cold. Dawn in such high latitudes is +not a thing of violent changes, but of slow and subtle gradations of +light, of sudden, coy flushes of colour, of thin winds and bright +fleeting hazes. He lay for a minute in the scrub of cloud-berries, the +collar of his coat buttoned round his throat, and the morning wind, +fresh from leagues of snow, blowing chill on his face. Behind was the +slope alive with men who at any moment might emerge on the plateau. He +waited for the sight of a figure, but none came; clearly the muster was +not yet complete. A thought grew in his brain, and a sudden clearness +in the air translated it into action; for in the hazy distance across +the tableland he saw the walls of Forza fort. + +The place could not be two miles off, and between it and him there was +the smooth benty plateau. He might make a rush for it and cross +unobserved. Even now the early sun was beginning to strike it. The +yellow-grey walls stood out clear against the far line of mountains, and +the wisp of colour which fluttered in the wind was clearly the British +flag. The exceeding glory of the morning gave him a new vigour. Why +should not he run with any tribesman of the lot? If he could but avoid +the risk of a rifle bullet at the outset, he would have no fear of the +issue. + +He glanced behind him. The place seemed still, though far down there +was a tinkle as of little stones falling. He stood up, straightened +himself for one moment till he had filled his lungs with the clean air. +Then he started to run quickly towards the fort. + +The full orb of the sun topped the mountains and the dazzle was in his +eyes from the first. If he covered the first half-mile unpursued he +would be safe; otherwise he might expect a bullet. It was a comic +feeling--the wide green heath, the fresh air, the easy vigour in his +stride, the flush of the morning sun, and that awkward, nervous weakness +in the small of his back where a bullet might be expected to find a +lodgment. + +He never looked back till he had gone what seemed to him the proper +distance, and then he glanced hurriedly over his shoulder. + +Two men had emerged from the scrub and stood on the edge of the slope. +They were gazing intently at him, and suddenly one lifted a Snider to +his shoulder and fired. The bullet burrowed in the sand to the right of +him. Again he looked back and there they were--five of them now--crying +out to him. Then with one accord they followed over the plateau. + +It was now a clear race for life. He must keep beyond reasonable +rifle-shot; otherwise a broken leg might bring him to a standstill. He +cursed the deceptive clearness of the hill air which made it impossible +for his unpractised eye to judge distances. The fort stood clear in +every stone, but it might be miles off though it looked scarcely a +thousand yards. Apparently it was still asleep, for no smoke was +rising, and, strain his ears as he might, he could hear no sound of a +sentry's walk. This looked awkward indeed for him. If the people were +not awake to receive him, he would be potted against its wall as surely +as a rat in a corner. He grew acutely nervous, and as he drew nearer he +made the air hideous with shouts to wake the garrison. A clear race in +the open he did not mind; but he had no stomach for a game of +hide-and-seek around an unscalable wall with an active enemy. + +Apparently the gentry behind him were growing despondent. Two rifle +bullets, fired by running men, sang unsteadily in his wake. He was now +so near that he could see the rough wooden gate and the pyramidal nails +with which it was studded. He could guess the number of paces between +him and safety. He was out of breath and a little tired, for the +scramble up the nullah had not been a light one. Again he yelled +frantically to the dead walls, beseeching their inmates to get out of +bed and save his life. + +There was still no sound from the sleeping fortress. He was barely a +hundred yards off, and he saw now that the walls were too high to climb +and that nothing remained but the gate. He picked up a stone and flung +it against the woodwork. The din echoed through the empty place, but +there was no sound of life. Just at the threshold there was a patch of +shadow. It was his one way of escape, and as he reached the door and +kicked and hammered at the wood, he cowered down in the shade, praying +that his friends behind might be something less than sharpshooters. + +The pursuit saw its chance, and running forward to get within easy +range, proceeded to target practice. Lewis, kicking diligently at the +door, was trying to draw himself into the smallest space, and his mind +was far from comfortable. It needs good nerves to fill the position of +a target with equanimity, and he was too tired to take it in good part. +A disagreeable cold sweat stood on his brow, and his heart beat +violently. Then a bullet did what all his knocking had failed to do, +for it crashed into the woodwork and woke the garrison. He heard feet +hurrying across a yard, and then it seemed to him that men were +reconnoitring from the top of the wall. A second later--when the third +bullet had buried itself in dust a foot beyond his head--the heavy gate +was half opened and a man's hand assisted him to crawl inside. + +He looked up to see a tall figure in pyjamas standing over him. "Now I +wonder who the deuce you are?" it was saying. + +"My name's Haystoun. H-a-y-s;" then he broke off and laughed. He had +fallen into his old trick of spelling his name to the Oxford tradesmen +when he was young and hated to have it garbled. + +He looked up at the questioner again. "Bless me, Andy, so it's you." + +The man gave a yell of delight. "Lewis, upon my soul. Who'd have +thought it? It is a Providence. By Gad, I believe I'm just in time to +save your life." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE HILL-FORT + + +Lewis got to his feet and blinked at the morning sun across the yard. + +"That was a near shave. Phew, I hate being a target for sharpshooting! +These devils are your friends the Bada-Mawidi." + +"The deuce they are," said Andover lugubriously. "I always knew it. +I've told Holm a hundred times, and now here is the beggar away sick and +I am left to pay the piper." + +"I know. I met him in Bardur, and that's why I'm here. He told me to +tell you to mind the north gate." + +"More easily said than done. We're too few by half here if things get +nasty. How was the chap looking?" + +"Pretty miserable. Thwaite and I put him to bed. Then they sent me off +here, for I've got news for you. You know a man called Marker?" + +Andover nodded. + +"I was dining with him the day before yesterday, and yesterday morning I +got a note from him. He says that he has heard from some private source +that the Bada-Mawidi were arming and proposed an attack on Forza to-day. +He thinks they may have got their arms from the other side, you know. +At any rate he asked me to try to let you hear, and when I saw Holm last +night and heard that such a thing was possible, I came off at once. I +suppose Marker is the sort of man who should know." + +"What did Thwaite say?" + +"He was keen that I should come at once. Do you think that it's a false +alarm?" + +"Oh, it will be genuine enough on Marker's part, but he may have been +misinformed. What beats me is the attack by day. I know the Badas as I +know my own name, and they're too few at the best to have any chance of +rushing the place. Besides, they are poor fighters in the open. On the +other hand they are devils incarnate in a night attack, as we used to +find to our cost. You are sure he said to-day?" + +"Sure. Some time this morning." + +"Wonder what their game is. However, he ought to be right if anybody +is, and we are much obliged to you for your trouble. You had a pretty +hard time in the open, but how on earth did you get up the hill?" + +"Deerstalking style. It was good sport. But for heaven's sake, Andy, +give me breakfast, and tell me what you want me to do. I am under your +orders now." + +"You'd better feed and then sleep for a bit. If you don't mind I'll +leave you, for I've got to be very busy. And poor old Holm looked +pretty sick, did he? Well, I am glad he has been saved this affair +anyhow." + +A Sikh orderly brought Lewis breakfast. Beyond the tent door there was +stir in the garrison. Men were deployed in the yard, Gurkhas mainly, +with a few Kashmir sepoys, and the loud harsh voice of Andover was +raised to give orders. It was a hot still morning, with something +thunderous in the air. Hot sulphurous clouds were massing on the +western horizon, and the cool early breeze had gone. The whole place +smelt of powder. + +Half-way through the meal Andover returned, his lean face red with +exertion. "I've got things more or less in order. They may easily +starve us out, for we are wretchedly provisioned, but I don't think +they'll get us with a rush. I wonder when the show is to commence." He +drank some coffee, and then filled a pipe. + +"I left a man at Nazri. If the thing turns out to be a small affair I +am to meet him there to-night; but if I don't come he is to know that it +is serious and go and warn the Khautmi people. You haven't a connection +by any chance?" + +"No. Wish we had. The heliograph is no good, and the telegraph is +still under the consideration of some engineer man. But how do you +propose to get to Nazri? It's only twelve miles, but they are mostly up +on end." + +"I did it when I was here before. It's easy enough if you have done any +rock-climbing, and I can leave with the light. Besides, there's a +moon." + +Andover laughed. "You've turned over a new leaf, Lewis. Your energy +puts us all to shame. I wish I had your physical gifts, my son. The +worst of being long and lanky in a place like this is that you're always +as stiff as a poker. I shall die of sciatica before I am forty. But +upon my word it is queer meeting you here in the loneliest spot in +creation. When I saw you in town before I came out, you were going into +Parliament or some game of that kind. Then I heard that you had been +out here, and gone back; and now for no earthly reason I waken up one +fine morning to find you being potted at before my gate. You're as +sudden as Marker, and a long chalk more mysterious." + +Lewis looked grave. "I wish Marker were only as simple as me, or I as +sudden as him. It's a gift not learned in a day. Anyhow I'm here, and +we've got a day's sport before us. Hullo, the ball seems about to open." +Little puffs of smoke and dust were rising from beyond the wall, and on +the heavy air came the faint ping-ping of rifles. + +Andover stretched himself elaborately. "Lord alive, but this is absurd. +What do these beggars expect to do? They can't shell a fort with stolen +expresses." + +The two men went up to the edge of the wall and looked over the plateau. +A hundred yards off stood a group of tribesmen formed in some semblance +of military order, each with a smoking rifle in his hand. It was like a +parody of a formation, and Andover after rubbing his eyes burst into a +roar of laughter. + +"The beggars must be mad. What in heaven's name do they expect to do, +standing there like mummies and potting at a stone wall? There's two +more companies of them over there. It isn't war, it's comic opera." And +he sat down, still laughing, on the edge of a gun-case to put on the +boots which his orderly had brought. + +It was comic opera, but the tinge of melodrama was not absent. When a +sufficient number of rounds had been fired, the tribesmen, as if acting +on half-understood instructions from some prehistoric manual, slung +their rifles on their shoulders and came on. The fire from the fort did +not stop them, though it broke their line. In a minute they were +clutching at every hand-grip and foothold on the wall, and Andover with +a beaming face directed the disposition of his men. + +Forza is built of great, rough stones, with ends projecting in places +cyclopean-wise, which to an active man might give a foothold. The +little garrison was at its posts, and picked the men off with carbines +and revolvers, and in emergencies gave a brown chest the straight +bayonet-thrust home. The tribesmen fought like fiends, scrambling up +silently with long knives between their teeth, till a shot found them +and they rolled back to die on the sand at the foot. Now and again +a man would reach the parapet and spring down into the courtyard. Then +it was the turn of Andover and Lewis to account for him, and they did +not miss. One man with matted hair and beard was at Lewis's back before +he saw him. A crooked knife had nearly found that young man's neck, but +a lucky twisting aside saved him. He dodged his adversary up and down +the yard till he got his pistol from his inner pocket. Then it was his +turn to face about. The man never stopped and a ball took him between +the eyes. He dropped dead as a stone, and his knife flying from his +hand skidded along the sand till it stopped with a clatter on the +stones. The sound in the hot sulphurous air grated horribly, and Lewis +clapped his hands to his ears to find that he too had not come off +scathless. The knife had cut the lobe, and, bleeding like a pig, he +went in search of water. + +The assailants seemed prepared to find paradise speedily, for they were +not sparing with their lives. The attacking party was small, and +apparently there was no reserve, for in all the wide landscape there was +no sign of man. Then for no earthly reason the assault was at an end. +One by one the men dropped back and disappeared from the plateau. There +was no overt signal, no sound; but in a little the annoyed garrison were +looking at vacancy and one another. + +"This is the devil's own business," said Andover, rubbing his eyes. The +men, too astonished to pick off stragglers, allowed the enemy to melt +into space; then they set themselves down with rifles cuddled up to +their chins, and stared at Andover. + +"It beats me," said that disturbed man. "How many killed?" + +"Seven," said a sergeant. "About five more wounded. None of us +touched, barring a bullet in my boot, and two Johnnies slashed on the +cheek. Seems to me as if the gen'lman, Mr. 'Aystoun, was 'it, though." + +At the word Andover ran for his quarters, where he found his servant +dressing Lewis's wounded ear. That young man with a face of great +despair was inclining his head over a basin. + +"What's the matter, Andy? Don't tell me the show has stopped. I +thought they were game to go on for hours, and I was just coming to join +you." + +"They've gone, every mother's son of them. I told you it was comic +opera all along. Seven of them have found the part too much for them, +but the rest have cleared out like smoke. I give it up." + +Lewis stared at the speaker, his brain busy with a problem. For a +moment before the fight, and for a little during its progress he had +been serenely happy. He had done something hard and perilous; he had +risked bullets; he had brought authentic news of a real danger. He was +happily at peace with himself; the bland quiet of conscience which he +had not felt for months had given him the vision of a new life. But the +danger had faded away in smoke; and here was Andover with a mystified +face asking its meaning. + +"I swear that those fellows never had the least intention of beating us. +There were far too few of them for one thing. They looked like +criminals fighting under sentence, you know, like the Persian fellows. +It was more like some religious ceremony than a fight. The whole thing +is beyond me, but I think no harm's done. Hang it, I wish Holm were +here. He's a depressing beggar, but he takes responsibility off my +shoulders." + +The dead men were buried as quickly and decently as the place allowed +of. Things were generally cleaned up, and by noon the little fort was +as spick as if the sound of a rifle had never been heard within its +walls. Lewis and Andover had the midday meal in a sort of gun-room +which looked over the edge of the plateau to a valley in the hills. It +had been arranged and furnished by a former commandant who found in the +view a repetition of the one in a much-loved Highland shooting-box. +Accordingly it was comfortable and homelike beyond the average of +frontier dwellings. Outside a dripping mist had clouded the hills and +chilled the hot air. + +The two men smoked silently, knocking out their ashes and refilling with +the regularity of clockwork. Lewis was thinking hard, thinking of the +bitterness of dashed hopes, of self-confidence clutched at and lost. He +saw as if in an inspiration the trend of Marker's plans. He had been +given a paltry fictitious errand, like a bone to a dog, to quiet him. +Some devilry was afoot and he must be got out of the road. For a second +the thought pleased him, the thought that at least one man held him +worthy of attention, and went out of his way to circumvent him. But the +gleam of satisfaction was gone in a moment. He could not even be sure +that there was guile at the back of it. It might be all foolish +honesty, and to a man cursed with a sense of weakness the thought of +such a pedestrian failure was trebly intolerable. + +But honesty was inconceivable. He and he alone in all the frontier +country knew Marker and his ways. To Andover, sucking his pipe dismally +beside him, the thing appeared clear as the daylight. Marker, the best +man alive, had word of some Bada-Mawidi doings and had given a friendly +hint. It was not his blame if the thing had fizzled out like damp +powder. But to Lewis, Marker was a man of uncanny powers and +intelligence beyond others, the iron will of the true adventurer. There +must be devilry behind it all, and to the eye of suspicion there was +doubt in every detail. And meantime he had fallen an easy victim. +Marooned in this frontier fort, the world might be turned topsy-turvy at +Bardur, and he not a word the wiser. Things were slipping from his +grasp again. He had an intense desire to shut his eyes and let all +drift. He had done enough. He had come up here at the risk of his +neck; fate had fought against him, and he must succumb. The fatal +wisdom of proverbs was all on his side. + +But once again conscience assailed him. Why had he believed Marker, +knowing what he knew? He had been led by the nose like a crude +school-boy. It was nothing to him that he had to believe or remain idle +in Bardur. Another proof of his folly! This importunate sense of +weakness was the weakest of all qualities. It made him a nervous and +awkward follower of strength, only to plunge deeper into the mud of +incapacity. + +Andover looked at him curiously. His annoyance was of a different +stamp--a little disappointment, intense boredom, and the ever-present +frontier anxiety. But such were homely complaints to be forgotten over +a pipe and in sleep. It struck him that his companion's eyes betrayed +something more, and he kicked him on the shins into attention. + +"Been seedy lately? Have some quinine. Or if you can't sleep I can +tell you a dodge. But you know you are looking a bit cheap, old man." + +"I'm pretty fit," said Lewis, and he raised his brown face to a glass. +"Why I'm tanned like a nigger and my eye's perfectly clear." + +"Then you're in love," said the mysterious Andover. "Trust me for +knowing. When a man keeps as quiet as you for so long, he's either in +love or seedy. Up here people don't fall in love, so I thought it must +be the other thing." + +"Rot," said Lewis. "I'm going out of doors. I must be off pretty soon, +if I'm to get to Nazri by sundown. I wish you'd come out and show me +the sort of lie of the land. There are three landmarks, but I can't +remember their order." + +An hour later the two men returned, and Lewis sat down to an early +dinner. He ate quickly, and made up sandwiches which he stuffed into +his pocket. Then he rose and gripped his host's hand. + +"Good-bye, Andy. This has been a pleasant meeting. Wish it could have +been longer." + +"Good-bye, old chap. Glad to have seen you. My love to George, if you +get to Nazri. Give you three to one in half-crowns you won't get there +to-night." + +"Done," said Lewis. "You shall pay when I see you next." And in the +most approved style of the hero of melodrama he lit a short pipe and +went off into Immensity. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE WAY TO NAZRI + + +Our traveller did not reach Nazri that night for many reasons, of which +the chief shall be told. The way to Nazri is long and the way to Nazri +is exceedingly rough. Leaving the table-land you plunge down a +trackless gully into the dry bed of a stream. Thence it is an hour's +uneasy walking among stagnant pools and granite boulders to the foot of +another nullah which runs up to the heart of the hills. From this you +pick your way along the precipitous side of a mountain, and if your head +is good and your feet sure, may come eventually to a place like the roof +of the house, beyond which lies a thicket of thorn-bushes and the Nazri +gully. At first sight the thing seems impossible, but by a bold man it +can be crossed either in the untanned Kashmir shoes or with the naked +feet. + +Lewis had not gone a mile and had barely reached the dry watercourse, +when the weather broke utterly in a storm of mist and fine rain. At +other times this chill weather would have been a comfort, but here in +these lonely altitudes, with a difficult path before him, its result was +to confound confusion. So long as he stuck to the stream he had some +guidance; it was hard, even when the air was like a damp blanket, to +mistake the chaos of boulder and shingle which meant the channel. But +the mist was close to him and wrapped him in like a quilt, and he looked +in vain for the foot of the nullah he must climb. He tried keeping by +the edge and feeling his way, but it only landed him in a ditch of +stagnant slime. The thing was too vexatious, and his temper went; and +with his temper his last chance of finding his road. When he had +stumbled for what seemed hours he sat down on a boulder and whistled +dismally. The stream belonged to another watershed. If he followed it, +assuming that he did not break his neck over a dry cataract, he would be +through the mountains and near Taghati quicker than he intended. +Meantime the miserable George would wait at Nazri, would rouse the +Khautmi garrison on a false alarm, and would find himself irretrievably +separated from his friend. The thought was so full of irritation, that +he resolved not to stir one step further. He would spend the night if +need be in this place and wait till the mist lifted. + +He found a hollow among the boulders, and improvidently ate half his +store of sandwiches. Then, finding his throat dry, he got up to hunt +for water. A trickle afar off in the rocks led him on, and sure enough +he found water; but when he tried to retrace his steps to his former +resting place he found that he had forgotten the way. This new place +was conspicuously less sheltered, but he sat down on the wet gravel, lit +a pipe with difficulty, and with his knees close to his chin strove to +possess his soul in patience. + +He was tired, for he had slept little for two days, and the closer air +of the ravine made him drowsy. He had lost any sense of discomfort from +the wet, and was in the numb condition of the utterly drenched. He +could not spend the night like this, so he roused himself and stood +staring, pipe in teeth, into the drizzle. The mist seemed clearer. He +was a little stupid, so he did not hear the sound of feet on stones till +they were almost on him. Then through the haze he saw a procession of +figures moving athwart the channel. They were not his countrymen, for +they walked with the stoop forward which no Englishman can ever quite +master in his hill-climbing. Lewis turned to flee, but in his numbness +of mind and body missed footing, and fell sprawling over a bank of +shingle. He scrambled to his feet only to find hands at his throat, and +himself a miserable prisoner. + +The scene had shifted with a vengeance, and his first and sole impulse +was to laugh. It is possible that if the scarf of a brawny tribesman +had not been so tight across his chest he would have astonished his +captors with hysterical laughter. But the jolt as he was dragged up +hill, tied close to a horse's side, was unfavourable to merriment, and +raw despondency filled his soul. This was the end of his fine doings. +The prisoner of unknown bandits, hurried he knew not whence, a pretty +pass for an adventurer. This was the seal on his ineffectiveness. Shot +against a rock, held up to some sordid ransom, he was as impotent for +good or ill as if he had stayed at home. For a second he longed to pull +horse and captor with one wrench over the brink to the kindly gulf where +all was quiet. + +The bitterest ill-humour possessed this meekest of men. Normally he +would have been afraid, for he was an imaginative being who feared +horrors and had little relish for them. But there is a certain perfect +bad temper which casteth out fear, and this held him in its grip. He +cursed the mountain solitude and he cursed the Bada-Mawidi with awful +directness. Then he chose silence as the easier part, and trudged like +a stolid criminal till, half in a daze of weariness and sleep, he found +that the cavalcade had halted. + +The place was the edge of a little tableland where in a hollow among +rocks lay a collection of mud-walled huts. A fire, in spite of the damp +weather, blazed cheerfully in the midst of the clearing. There was +commotion in the huts, every door was opened, and evil-smelling people +poured forth with cries and questions. The leader of the newly arrived +party bowed himself before a short, square man whom we have met before, +and spoke something in his ear. Fazir Khan looked up sharply at Lewis, +then laughed, and spoke something to his men in his own tongue. + +Lewis comprehended barely a few words of Chil, the Bada tongue, and he +knew little of the frontier speeches. But to his amazement the chief +addressed him in tolerable, if halting, English. It was not for nothing +that Fazir Khan had harried the Border and sojourned incognito in every +town in North India. + +"Allah has given thee to us, my son," he said sweetly. "It is vain to +fight against God. I have heard of thee as the Englishman who would +know more than is good for man to know. You were at Forza to-day." + +Lewis's temper was at its worst. "I was at Forza to-day, and I watched +your people running. Had they waited a little longer we should have +slain them all, and then have come for you." + +The chief smiled unpleasantly. "My people did not fight at Forza +to-day. That was but the sport to draw on fools. Soon we shall fight +in earnest, but in a different place, and thou shalt not see." + +"I am your prisoner," said Lewis grimly, "and it is in your power to do +with me as you please. But remember that for every hair of my head my +people will take the lives of four of your cattle-lifters." + +"That is an old story," said Fazir Khan wearily, "and I have heard it +many times before. You speak boldly like a man, and because you are not +afraid I will tell you the truth. In a very little there will be not +one of your people in the land, only the Bada-Mawidi, and others whom I +do not name." + +"That is a still older story. I have heard it since I was in my +mother's arms. Do you think to frighten me by such a tale?" + +"Let us not talk of fear," said the chief with some politeness. "There +are two races in your people, one which talks and allies itself with +Bengalis and swine, and one which lives in hard places and follows war. +The second I love, and had it been possible, I would have allied myself +with it and driven the others into the sea." This petty chieftain spoke +with the pride of one who ruled the destinies of the earth. + +Lewis was unimpressed. "I am tired of your riddles," he said. "If you +would kill me have done with it. If you would keep me prisoner, give me +food and a place to sleep. But if you would be merciful, let me go and +show me the way to Bardur. Life is too short for waiting." + +Fazir Khan laughed loudly, and spoke something to his people. + +"You shall join in our company for the night," he said. "I have eaten +of the salt of your people and I do not murder without cause. Also I +love a bold man." + +Lewis was led into the largest of the huts and given food and warm Hunza +wine. The place was hot to suffocation; large beads of moisture stood +on the mud walls, and the smell of uncleanly clothing and sweating limbs +was difficult to stand. But the man's complexion was hard, and he made +an excellent supper. Thereafter he became utterly drowsy. He had it in +his mind to question this Fazir Khan about his dark sayings, but his +eyes closed as if drawn by a magnet and his head nodded. It may have +been something in the wine; it may have been merely the vigil of the +last night, and the toil of the past hours. At any rate his mind was +soon a blank, and when a servant pointed out a heap of skins in a +corner, he flung himself on them and was at once asleep. He was utterly +at their mercy, but his course, had he known it, was the wisest. Even a +Bada's treachery has its limits, and he will not knife a confident +guest. The men talked and wrangled, ate and drank, and finally snored +around him, but he slept through it all like a sleeper of Ephesus. + +When he woke the hut was cleared. The village slept late but he had +slept later, for the sun was piercing the unglazed windows and making +pattern-work on the earth floor. He had slept soundly a sleep haunted +with nightmares, and he was still dazed as he peered out into the square +where men were passing. He saw a sentry at the door of his hut, which +reminded him of his condition. All the long night he had been far away, +fishing, it seemed to him, in a curious place which was Glenavelin, and +yet was ever changing to a stranger glen. It was moonlight, still, +bright and warm on all the green hill shoulders. He remembered that he +caught nothing, but had been deliriously happy. People seemed passing +on the bank, Arthur and Wratislaw and Julia Heston, and all his +boyhood's companions. He talked to them pleasantly, and all the while +he was moving up the glen which lay so soft in the moonlight. He +remembered looking everywhere for Alice Wishart, but her face was +wanting. Then suddenly the place seemed to change. The sleeping glen +changed to a black sword-cut among rocks, his friends disappeared, and +only George was left. He remembered that George cried out something and +pointed to the gorge, and he knew--though how he knew it he could not +tell--that the lost Alice was somewhere there before him in the darkness +and he must go towards her. Then he had wakened shivering, for in that +darkness there was terror as well as joy. + +He went to the door, only to find himself turned back by the sheep-skin +sentry, who half unsheathed for his benefit an ugly knife. He found +that his revolver, his sole weapon, had been taken while he slept. +Escape was impossible till his captors should return. + +A day of burning sun had followed on the storm. Out of doors in the +scorching glare from the rock there seemed an extraordinary bustle. It +was like the preparations for a march, save that there seemed no method +in the activity. One man burnished a knife, a dozen were cleaning +rifles, and all wore the evil-smelling finery with which the hillman +decks his person for war. Their long oiled hair was tied in a sort of +rude knot, new and fuller turbans adorned the head, and on the feet were +stout slippers of Bokhara make. Lewis had keen eyesight, and he strove +to read the marks on the boxes of cartridges which stood in a corner. +It was not the well-known Government mark which usually brands stolen +ammunition. The three crosses with the crescent above--he had seen them +before, but his memory failed him. It might have been at Bardur in the +inn; it might have been at home in the house of some great traveller. +At any rate the sight boded no good to himself or the border peace. He +thought of George waiting alone at Nazri, and then obediently warning +the people at Khautmi. By this time Andover would know he was missing, +and men would be out on a very hopeless search. At any rate he had done +some good, for if the Badas meant marching they would find the garrisons +prepared. + +About noon there was a bustle in the square and Fazir Khan with a dozen +of his tail swaggered in. He came straight to the hut, and two men +entered and brought out the prisoner. Lewis stiffened his back and +prepared not reluctantly for a change in the situation. He had no +special fear of this smiling, sinister chieftain. So far he had been +spared, and now it seemed unlikely that in the midst of this bustle of +war there would be room for the torture which alone he dreaded. So he +met the chief's look squarely, and at the moment he thanked the lot +which had given him two more inches of height. + +"I have sent for thee, my son," said Fazir Khan, "that you may see how +great my people is." + +"I have seen," said Lewis, looking round. "You have a large collection +of jackals, but you will not bring many back." + +The notion tickled Fazir Khan and he laughed with great good-humour. +"So, so," he cried. "Behold how great is the wisdom of youth. I will +tell you a secret, my son. In a little the Bada-Mawidi, my people, will +be in Bardur and a little later in the fat corn lands of the south, and +I, Fazir Khan, will sit in King's palaces." He looked contemptuously +round at his mud walls, his heart swelling with pride. + +"What the devil do you mean?" Lewis asked with rising suspicion. This +was not the common talk of a Border cateran. + +"I mean what I mean," said the other. "In a little all the world shall +see. But because I have a liking for a bold cockerel like thee, I will +speak unwisely. The days of your people are numbered. This very night +there are those coming from the north who will set their foot on your +necks." + +Lewis went sick at heart. A thousand half-forgotten suspicions called +clamorously. This was the secret of the burlesque at Forza, and the new +valour of the Badas. He saw Marker's game with the fatal clearness of +one who is too late. He had been given a chance of a little piece of +service to avert his suspicions. Marker had fathomed him well as one +who must satisfy a restless conscience but had no stomach for anything +beyond. Doubtless he thought that now he would be enjoying the rest +after labour at Forza, flattering himself on saving a garrison, when all +the while the force poured down which was to destroy an empire. An army +from the north, backed and guided by every Border half-breed and +outlaw--what hope of help in God's name was to be found in the sleepy +forts and the unsuspecting Bardur? + +And the Kashmir and the Punjab? A train laid in every town and village. +Supplies in readiness, communications waiting to be held, railways ready +for capture. Europe was on the edge of a volcano. He saw an outbreak +there which would keep Britain employed at home, while the great power +with her endless forces and bottomless purse poured her men over the +frontier. But at the thought of the frontier he checked himself. There +was no road by which an army could march; if there was any it could be +blocked by a handful. A week's, a day's delay would save the north, and +the north would save the empire. + +His voice came out of his throat with a crack in it like an old man's. + +"There is no road through the mountains. I have been there before and I +know." + +Again Fazir Khan smiled. "I use no secrecy to my friends. There is a +way, though all men do not know it. From Nazri there is a valley +running towards the sunrise. At the head there is a little ridge easily +crossed, and from that there is a dry channel between high precipices. +It is not the width of a man's stature, so even the sharp eyes of my +brother might miss it. Beyond that there is a sandy tableland, and then +another valley, and then plains." + +The plan of the place was clear in Lewis's brain. He remembered each +detail. The long nullah on which he had looked from the hill-tops had, +then, an outlet, and did not end, as he had guessed, in a dead wall of +rock. Fool and blind! to have missed so glorious a chance! + +He stood staring dumbly around him, unconscious that he was the +laughingstock of all. Then he looked at the chief. + +"Am I your prisoner?" he asked hoarsely. + +"Nay," said the other good-humouredly, "thou art free. We have +over-much work on hand to-day to be saddled with captives." + +"Then where is Nazri?" he asked. + +The chief laughed a loud laugh of tolerant amusement. "Hear to the bold +one," he cried. "He will not miss the great spectacle. See, I will +show you the road," and he pointed out certain landmarks. "For one of +my own people it is a journey of four hours; for thee it will be +something more. But hurry, and haply the game will not have begun. If +the northern men take thee I will buy thy life." + +Four hours; the words rang in his brain like a sentence. He had no +hope, but a wild craving to attempt the hopeless. George might have +returned to Nazri to wait; it was the sort of docile thing that George +would do. In any case not five miles from Nazri was the end of the +north road and a little telegraph hut used by the Khautmi forts. The +night would be full moonlight; and by night the army would come. His +watch had been stolen, but he guessed by the heavens that it was some +two hours after noon. Five hours would bring him to Nazri at six, in +another he might be at the hut before the wires were severed. It was a +crazy chance, but it was his all, and meanwhile these grinning tribesmen +were watching him like some curious animal. They had talked to him +freely to mock his feebleness. His dominant wish was to escape from +their sight. + +He turned to the descent. "I am going to Nazri," he said. + +The chief held out his pistol. "Take your little weapon. We have no +need of such things when great matters are on hand. Allah speed you, +brother! A sure foot and a keen eye may bring you there in time for the +sport." And, still laughing, he turned to enter the hut. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +EVENING IN THE HILLS + + +The airless heat of afternoon lay on the rocks and dry pastures. The +far snow-peaks, seen for a moment through a rift in the hills, shimmered +in the glassy stillness. No cheerful sound of running water filled the +hollows, for all was parched and bare with the violence of intemperate +suns and storms. Soon he was out of sight and hearing of the village, +travelling in a network of empty watercourses, till at length he came to +the long side of mountain which he knew of old as the first landmark of +the way. A thin ray of hope began to break up his despair. He knew now +the exact distance he had to travel, for his gift had always been an +infallible instinct for the lie of a countryside. The sun was still +high in the heavens; with any luck he should be at Nazri by six o'clock. + +He was still sore with wounded pride. That Marker should have divined +his weakness and left open to him a task in which he might rest with a +cheap satisfaction was bitter to his vanity. The candour of his mind +made him grant its truth, but his new-born confidence was sadly +dissipated. And he felt, too, the futility of his efforts. That one +man alone in this precipitous wilderness should hope to wake the Border +seemed a mere nightmare of presumption. But it was possible, he said to +himself. Time only was needed. If he could wake Bardur and the north, +and the forts on the passes, there would be delay enough to wake India. +If George were at Nazri there would be two for the task; if not, there +would be one at least willing and able. + +It was characteristic of the man that the invasion was bounded for him +by Nazri and Bardur. He had no ears for ultimate issues and the ruin of +an empire. Another's fancy would have been busy on the future; Lewis +saw only that pass at Nazri and the telegraph-hut beyond. He must get +there and wake the Border; then the world might look after itself. As +he ran, half-stumbling, along the stony hillside he was hard at work +recounting to himself the frontier defences. The Forza and Khautmi +garrisons might hold the pass for an hour if they could be summoned. It +meant annihilation, but that was in the bargain. Thwaite was strong +enough in Bardur, but the town might give him trouble of itself, and he +was not a man of resources. After Bardur there was no need of thought. +Two hours after the telegraph clicked in the Nazri hut, the north of +India would have heard the news and be bestirring itself for work. In +five hours all would be safe, unless Bardur could be taken and the wires +cut. There might be treason in the town, but that again was not his +affair. Let him but send the message before sunset, and he would still +have time to get to Khautmi, and with good luck hold the defile for +sixty minutes. The thought excited him wildly. His face dripped with +sweat, his boots were cut with rock till the leather hung in shreds, and +a bleeding arm showed through the rents in his sleeve. But he felt no +physical discomfort, only the exhilaration of a rock climber with the +summit in sight, or a polo player with a clear dribble before him to the +goal. At last he was playing a true game of hazard, and the chance gave +him the keenest joy. + +All the hot afternoon he scrambled till he came to the edge of a new +valley. Nazri must lie beyond, he reasoned, and he kept to the higher +ground. But soon he was mazed among precipitous shelves which needed +all his skill. He had to bring his long stride down to a very slow and +cautious pace, and, since he was too old a climber to venture rashly, he +must needs curb his impatience. He suffered the dull recoil of his +earlier vigour. While he was creeping on this accursed cliff the +minutes were passing, and every second lessening his chances. He was in +a fever of unrest, and only a happy fortune kept him from death. But at +length the place was passed, and the mountain shelved down to a plateau. +A wide view lay open to the eye, and Lewis blinked and hesitated. He +had thought Nazri lay below him, and lo! there was nothing but a tangle +of black watercourses. + +The sun had begun to decline over the farther peak, and the man's heart +failed him utterly. These unkind stony hills had been his ruin. He was +lost in the most formidable country on God's earth, lost! when his +whole soul cried out for hurry. He could have wept with misery, and +with a drawn face he sat down and forced himself to think. + +Suddenly a long, narrow black cleft in the farther tableland caught his +eye. He took the direction from the sun and looked again. This must be +the Nazri Pass, which he had never before that day heard of. He saw +where it ended in a stony valley. Once there he had but to follow the +nullah and cross the little ridge to come to Nazri. + +Weariness was beginning to grow on him, but the next miles were the +quickest of the day. He seemed to have the foot of a chamois. Down the +rocky hillside, across the chaos of boulders, and up into the dark +nullah he ran like a maniac. His mouth was parched with thirst, and he +stopped for a moment in the valley bottom to swallow some rain-water. +At last he found himself in the Nazri valley, with the thin sword-cut +showing dark in the yellow evening. Another mile and he would be at the +camping-place, and in five more at the hut. + +He kept high up on the ridge, for the light had almost gone and the +valley was perilous. It must be hideously late, eight o'clock or more, +he thought, and his despair made him hurry his very weary limbs. +Suddenly in the distant hollow he saw the gleam of a fire. He stopped +abruptly and then quickened with a cry of joy. It must be the faithful +George still waiting in the place appointed. Now there would be two to +the task. But it was too late, he bitterly reflected. In a little the +moon would rise, and then at any moment the van of the invader might +emerge from the defile. He might warn Bardur, but before anything could +be done the enemy would be upon them. And then there would be a +southward march upon a doubtful and half-awakened country, and then--he +knew not. + +But there was one other way. It had not occurred to him before, for it +is not an expedient which comes often to men nowadays, save to such as +are fools and outcasts. We are a wise and provident age, mercantile in +our heroics, seeking a solid profit for every sacrifice. But this +man--a child of the latter day--had not the new self-confidence, and he +was at the best high-strung, unwise, and unworldly. Besides, he was +broken with toil and excited with adventure. The last dying rays of the +sun were resting on the far snow walls, and the great heart of the west +burned in one murky riot of flame. But to the north, whence came +danger, there was a sea of yellow light, islanded with faint roseate +clouds like some distant happy country. The air of dusk was thin and +chill but stirring as wine to the blood, and all the bare land was for +the moment a fairy realm, mystic, intangible and untrodden. The +frontier line ran below the camping place; here he was over the border, +beyond the culture of his kind. He was alone, for in this adventure +George would not share. He would earn nothing, in all likelihood he +would achieve nothing; but by the grace of God he might gain some +minutes' respite. He would be killed; but that, again, was no business +of his. At least he could but try, for this was his one shred of hope +remaining. + +The thought, once conceived, could not be rejected. He was no coward or +sophist to argue himself out of danger. He laid no flattering unction +to his soul that he had done his best while another way remained +untried. For this type of man may be half-hearted and a coward in +little matters, but he never deceives himself. We have all our own +virtues and their defects. I am a well-equipped and confident person, +walking bluffly through the world, looking through and down upon my +neighbours, the incarnation of honesty; but I can find excuses for +myself when I desire them, I hug my personal esteem too close, and a +thousand to one I am too great a coward at heart to tell myself the +naked truth. You, on the other hand, are vacillating and ill at your +ease. You shrink from the hards of life which I steer happily through. +But you have no delusions with yourself, and the odds are that when the +time comes you may choose the "high that proved too high" and achieve +the impossibly heroic. + +A tired man with an odd gleam in his eye came out of the shadows to the +firelight and called George by name. + +"My God, Lewis, I am glad to see you! I thought you were lost. Food?" +and he displayed the resources of his larder. + +Lewis hunted for the water-bottle and quenched his thirst. Then he ate +ravenously of the cold wild-fowl and oatcake which George had provided. +He was silent and incurious till he had satisfied his wants; then he +looked up to meet George's questions. + +"Where on earth have you been? Andover said you started out to come +here last night. I did as you told me, you know, and when you didn't +come I roused the Khautmi people. They swore a good deal but turned +out, and after an infernal long climb we got to Forza. We roused up +Andover after a lot of trouble, and he took us in and gave us supper. +He said you had gone off hours ago, and that the Bada-Mawidi business +had been more or less of a fraud. So I slept there and came back here +in the morning in case you should turn up. Been shooting all day, but +it was lonely work and I didn't get the right hang of the country. +These beggars there are jolly little use," and he jerked his head in the +direction of the native servants. "What _have_ you been after?" + +"I? Oh, I've been in queer places. I fell into the hands of the Badas +a couple of hours after I left Forza. There was a storm up there and I +got lost in the mist. They took me up to a village and kept me there +all night. And then I heard news--my God, such news! They let me go +because they thought I could do no harm and I ran most of the way here. +Marker has scored this time, old man. You know how he has been going +about all North India for the last year or two getting things much his +own way. Well, to-night when the moon rises the great blow is to be +struck. It seems there is a pass to the north of this; I knew the place +but I didn't know of the road. There is an army coming down that place +in an hour or so. It is the devil's own business, but it has got to be +faced. We must warn Bardur, and trust to God that Bardur may warn the +south. You know the telegraph hut at the end of the road, when you +begin to climb up the ravine to the place? You must get down there at +once, for every moment is precious." + +George had listened with staring eyes to the tale. "I can't believe +it," he managed to ejaculate. "God, man! it's invasion, an unheard-of +thing!" + +"It's the most desperate truth, unheard-of or no. The whole thing lies +in our hands. They cannot come till after midnight, and by that time +Thwaite may be ready in Bardur, and the Khautmi men may be holding the +road. That would delay them for a little, and by the time they took +Bardur they might find the south in arms. It wouldn't matter a straw if +it were an ordinary filibustering business. But I tell you it's a great +army, and everything is prepared for it. Marker has been busy for +months. There will be outbreaks in every town in the north. The +railways and arsenals will be captured before ever the enemy appears. +There will be a native rising. That was to be bargained for. But God +only knows how the native troops have been tampered with. That man was +as clever as they make, and he has had a free hand. Oh the blind +fools!" + +George had turned, and was buttoning the top button of his shooting-coat +against the chilly night wind. "What shall I say to Thwaite?" he +asked. + +"Oh, anything. Tell him it's life or death. Tell him the facts, and +don't spare. You'll have to impress on the telegraph clerk its +importance first and that will take time. Tell him to send to Gilgit +and Srinagar, and then to the Indus Valley. He must send into Chitral +too and warn Armstrong. Above all things the Kohistan railway must be +watched, because it must be their main card. Lord! I wish I understood +the game better. Heaven knows it isn't my profession. But Thwaite will +understand if you scare him enough. Tell him that Bardur must be held +ready for siege at any moment. You understand how to work the thing?" + +George nodded. "There'll be nobody there, so I suppose I'll have to +break the door open. I think I remember the trick of the business. +_Then_, what do I do?" + +"Get up to Khautmi as fast as you can shin it. Better take the servants +and send them before you while you work the telegraph. I suppose +they're trustworthy. Get them to warn Mitchinson and St. John. They +must light the fires on the hills and collect all the men they can spare +to hold the road. Of course it's a desperate venture. We'll probably +all be knocked on the head, but we must risk it. If we can stop the +beggars for one half-hour we'll give Thwaite a better chance to set his +house in order. How I'd sell my soul to see a strong man in Bardur! +That will be the key of the position. If the place is uncaptured +to-morrow morning, and your wires have gone right, the chief danger on +this side will be past. There will be little risings of wasps' nests up +and down the shop, but we can account for them if this army from the +north is stopped." + +"I wonder how many of us will see to-morrow morning," said George +dismally. He was not afraid of death, but he loved the pleasant world. + +"Good-bye," said Lewis abruptly, holding out his hand. + +The action made George realize for the first time the meaning of his +errand. + +"But, I say, Lewie, hold on. What the deuce are you going to do?" + +"I am dog-tired," said the impostor. "I must wait here and rest. I +should only delay you." And always, as if to belie his fatigue, his eyes +were turning keenly to the north. At any moment while he stood there +bandying words there might come the sound of marching, and the van of +the invaders issue from the defile. + +"But, hang it, you know. I can't allow this. The Khautmi men mayn't +reach you in time, and I'm dashed if I am going to leave you here to be +chawed up by Marker. You're coming with me." + +"Don't be an ass," said Lewis kindly. This parting, one in ignorance, +the other in too certain knowledge, was very bitter. "They can't be here +before midnight. They were to start at moonrise, and the moon is only +just up. You'll be back in heaps of time, and, besides, we'll soon all +be in the same box." + +It was a false card to play, for George grew obstinate at once. "Then +I'm going to be in the same box as you from the beginning. Do you +really think I am going to desert you? Hang it, you're more important +than Bardur." + +"Oh, for God's sake, listen to reason," Lewis cried in despair. "You +must go at once. I can't or I would. It's our only chance. It's a +jolly good chance of death anyway, but it's a naked certainty unless you +do this. Think of the women and children and the people at home. You +may as well talk about letting the whole thing slip and getting back to +Bardur with safe skins. We must work the telegraph and then try to hold +the road with the Khautmi men, or be cowards for evermore. We're +gentlemen, and we are responsible." + +"I didn't mean it that way," said George dismally. "But I want you to +come with me. I can't bear the thought of your being butchered here +alone, supposing the beggars come before we get back. You're sure there +is time?" + +"You've three hours before you, but every moment is important. This is +the frontier line, and this fire will do for one of the signals. You'll +find me here. I haven't slept for days." And he yawned with feigned +drowsiness. + +"Then--good-bye," said George solemnly, holding out his hand a second +time. "Remember, I'm devilish anxious about you. It's a pretty hot job +for us all; but, gad! if we pull through you get the credit." + +Then with a single backward glance he led the way down the narrow track, +two mystified servants at his heels. + +Lewis watched him disappear, and then turned sadly to his proper +business. This was the end of a very old song, and his heart cried out +at the thought. He heaped more wood on the blaze from the little pile +collected, and soon a roaring, boisterous fire burned in the glen, while +giant shadows danced on the sombre hills. Then he rummaged in the tent +till he found the rifles, carefully cleaned and laid aside. He selected +two express 400 bores, a Metford express and a smooth-bore Winchester +repeater. Then he filled his pockets with cartridges, and from a small +box took a handful for his revolver. All this he did in a sort of +sobbing haste, turning nervous eyes always to the mouth of the cañon. +He filled his flask from a case in the tent, and, being still ravenously +hungry, crammed the remnants of supper into a capacious game-pocket. +Then, all preparations being made, he looked for a moment down the road +where his best friend had just gone out of his ken for ever. The +thought was so dreary that he did not dare to delay longer, but with a +bundle of ironmongery below his arms began to scramble up the glen to +where the north star burned between two peaks of hill. + +He did the journey in an hour, for he was in a pitiable state of +anxiety. Every moment he looked to hear the tramp of an army before +him, and know his errand of no avail. Over the little barrier ridge he +scrambled, and then up the straight gully to the little black rift which +was the gate of an empire. His unquiet mind peopled the wilderness with +voices, but when, breathless and sore, he came into the jaws of the +pass, all was still, silent as the grave, save for an eagle which +croaked from some eyrie in the cliffs. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +EVENTS SOUTH OF THE BORDER + + +Thwaite was finishing a solitary dinner and attempting to find interest +in a novel when his butler came with news that the telephone bell was +ringing in the gun-room. Thwaite, being tired and cross, told him to +answer it himself, expecting some frivolous message about supplies. The +man returned in a little with word that he could not understand it. +Then Thwaite arose, blessing him, and went to see. The telegraph office +proper was on the other side of the river, on the edge of the native +town, but a telephone had been established to the garrison. + +Thwaite's first impulse was to suspect a gigantic hoax. A scared native +clerk was trying to tell him a most appalling tale. George had not +spared energy in his message, and the Oriental imagination as a medium +had considerably increased it. The telegrams came in a confused order, +hard to piece together, but two facts seemed to stand out from the +confusion. One was that there was an unknown pass in the hills beyond +Nazri through which danger was expected at any moment that night; the +other was that treason was suspected throughout the whole north. Then +came the name of Marker, which gave Thwaite acute uneasiness. Finally +came George's two words of advice--keep strict watch on the native town +and hold Bardur in readiness for a siege; and wire the same directions +to Yasin, Gilgit, Chitral, Chilas, and throughout Kashmir and the +Punjab. Above all, wire to the chief places on the new Indus Valley +railway, for in case of success in Bardur, the railway would be the +first object of the invader. + +Thwaite put down the ear-trumpet, his face very white and perspiring. +He looked at his watch; it was just on nine o'clock. The moon had +arisen and the telegram said "moonrise." He could not doubt the +genuineness of the message when he had heard at the end the names +Winterham and Haystoun. Already Marker might be through the pass, and +little the Khautmi people could do against him. He must be checked at +Bardur, though it cost every life in the garrison. Four hours' delay +would arm the north to adequate resistance. + +He telephoned to the telegraph office to shut and lock the doors and +admit no one till word came from him. Then he summoned his Sikh +orderly, his English servant, and the native officers of the garrison. +He had one detachment of Imperial Service troops officered by Punjabis, +and a certain force of Kashmir Sepoys who made ineffective policemen, +and as soldiers were worse than useless. And with them he had to defend +the valley, and hold the native town, which might give trouble on his +flank. This was the most vexatious part of the business. If Marker had +organized the thing, then nothing could be unexpected, and treachery was +sure to be thick around them. + +The men came, saluted, and waited in silence. Thwaite sat down at a +table and pulled a sheaf of telegraph forms to pieces. First he wired +to Ladcock at Gilgit, beseeching reinforcements. From Bardur to the +south there is only one choice of ways--by Yasin and Yagistan to the +Indus Valley, or by Gilgit and South Kashmir. Once beyond Gilgit there +was small hope of checking an advance, but in case the shorter way to +the Indus by the Astor Valley was tried there might be hope of a delay. +So he besought Ladcock to post men on the Mazeno Pass if the time was +given him. Then he sent a like message to Yasin, though on the high +passes and the unsettled country there was small chance of the wires +remaining uncut. A force in Yasin might take on the flank any invasion +from Afghanistan and in any case command the Chitral district. Then +came a series of frantic wires at random--to Rawal Pindi, to the Punjabi +centres, to South Kashmir. He had small confidence in these messages. +If the local risings were serious, as he believed them to be, they would +be too late, and in any case they were beyond the country where +strategical points were of advantage against an invader. There remained +the stations on the Indus Valley railway, which must be +the earliest point of attack. The terminus at Boonji was held by a +certain Jackson, a wise man who inspired terror in a mixed force of +irregulars, Afridis, Pathans, Punjabis, Swats, and a dozen other +varieties of tribesmen. To him he sent the most lengthy and urgent +messages, for he held the key of a great telegraphic system with which +he might awake Abbotabad and the Punjab. Then, perspiring with heat and +anxiety, he gave the bundle into the hands of his English servant, and +told off an officer and twenty men to hold the telegraph office. A blue +light was to be lit in the window if the native town should prove +troublesome and reinforcements be needed. + +Soon the force of the garrison was assembled in the yard, all but a few +who had been sent on messages to the more isolated houses of the English +residents. Thwaite addressed them briefly: "Men, there's the devil's +own sweet row up the north, and it's moving down to us. This very night +we may have to fight. And, remember, it's not the old game with the +hillmen, but an army of white men, servants of the Tsar, come to fight +the servants of the Empress. Therefore, it is your duty to kill them +all like locusts, else they will swallow up you and your cattle and your +wives and your children, and, speaking generally, the whole bally show. +We may be killed, but if we keep them back even for a little God will +bless us. So be steady at your posts." + +The garrison was soon dispersed, the guns in readiness, pointing up the +valley. It was ten o'clock by Thwaite's watch ere the last click of the +loaders told that Bardur was awaiting an enemy. The town behind was in +an uproar, men clamouring at the gates, and seeking passports to flee to +the south. Chinese and Turcoman traders from Leh and Lhassa, Yarkand +and Bokhara, with scared faces, were getting their goods together and +invoking their mysterious gods. Logan, who had returned from Gilgit +that very day, rode breathless into the yard, clamouring for Thwaite. +He received the tale in half a dozen sentences, whistled, and turned to +go, for he had his own work to do. One question he asked: + +"Who sent the telegrams?" + +"Haystoun and Winterham." + +"Then they're alone at Nazri?" + +"Except for the Khautmi men." + +"Will they try to hold it?" + +"I should think so. They're all sportsmen. Gad, there won't be a soul +left alive." + +Logan galloped off with a long face. It would be a great ending, but +what a waste of heroic stuff! And as he remembered Lewis's frank +good-fellowship he shut his lips, as if in pain. + +The telegrams were sent, and reply messages began to pour in, which kept +one man at the end of the telephone. About half-past ten a blue light +burned in the window across the river. There seemed something to do in +the native town of narrow streets and evil-smelling lanes, for the sound +of shouting and desultory firing rose above the stir of the fort. The +telegraph office abutted on the far end of the bridge, and Thwaite had +taken the precaution of bidding the native officer he had sent across +keep his men posted around the end of the passage. Now he himself took +thirty men, for the native town was the most dangerous point he had to +fear. The wires must not be cut till the last moment, and, as they +passed over the bridge and then through the English quarter, there was +small danger if the office was held. He found, as he expected, that the +place was being maintained against considerable odds. A huge mixed +crowd, drawn in the main from the navvies who had been employed on the +new road, armed with knives and a few rifles, and encouraged by certain +wild, dancing figures which had the look of priests, was surging around +the gate. The fighting stuff was Afridi or Chitrali, but there was +abundance of yelling from this rabble of fakirs and beggars who +accompanied them. Order there was none, and it was clear to Thwaite +that this rising had been arranged for but not organized. His men had +small difficulty in forcing a way to the office, where they served to +complete the cordon of defence and the garrison of the bridge-end. Two +men had been killed and some half-dozen of the rioters. He pushed into +the building, and found a terrified Kashmir clerk sternly watched by his +servant and the Sikh orderly. The man, with tears streaming down his +face, was attempting to read the messages which the wires brought. + +Thwaite picked up and read the latest, which was a scrawl in quavering +characters over three telegraph forms. It was from Ladcock at Gilgit, +saying that he was having a row of his own with the navvies there, and +that he could send no reinforcements at present. If he quieted the +trouble in time he would try and hold the Mazeno Pass, and meanwhile he +had done his best to wake the Punjab. As the wires would be probably +cut within the next hour there would be no more communications, but he +besought Thwaite to keep the invader in the passes, as the whole south +country was a magazine waiting for a spark to explode. The message ran +in short violent words, and Thwaite had a vision of Ladcock, short, +ruddy, and utterly out of temper, stirred up from his easy life to hold +a frontier. + +There was no word from Yasin, as indeed he had expected, for the tribes +on the highlands about Hunza and Punial were the most disaffected on the +Border, and doubtless the first to be tampered with. Probably his own +message had never gone, and he could only pray that the men there might +by the grace of God have eyes in their heads to read the signs of the +times. There was a brief word from Jackson at Boonji. There attacks +had been made on the terminus and the engine-sheds since sunset, which +his men had luckily had time to repulse. A large amount of +rolling-stock was lying there, as five freight trains had brought up +material for the new bridge the day before. Of this the enemy had +probably had word. Anyhow, he hoped to quiet all local disturbances, +and he would undertake to see that every station on the line was warned. +He would receive reinforcements from Abbotabad by the afternoon of the +next day; if Bardur and Gilgit, or Yasin as it might be, could delay the +attack till then everything might be safe--unless, indeed, the whole +nexus of hill-tribes rose as one man. In which case there would be the +devil to pay, and he had no advice to give. + +Thwaite read and laughed grimly. It was not a question of a day's +delay, but of an hour's, and the hill-tribes, if he judged Marker's +cleverness rightly, would act just as Jackson feared. The business had +begun among the navvies at Bardur and Gilgit and Boonji. In a little +they would have news of real tribal war--Hunzas, Pathans, Chitralis, +Punialis, and Chils, tribes whom England had fought a dozen times before +and knew the mettle of; now would be the time for their innings. Well +supplied with money and arms--this would have been part of Marker's +business--they would be the forerunners of the great army. First savage +war, then scientific annihilation by civilized hands--a sweet prospect +for a peaceful man in the prime of life! + +He returned to the fort to find all quiet and in order. It commanded +the north road, but though the eye might weary itself with looking on +the moonlit sandy valley and the opaque blue hills, there was no sight +or sound of men. The stars were burning hard and cold in the vault of +sky, and looking down somewhere on the march of an army. It was now +close on midnight; in five hours dawn would break in the east and the +night of attack would be gone. But death waited between this midnight +hour and the morning. What were Haystoun and the men from Khautmi +doing? Fighting or beyond all fighting? Well, he would soon know. He +was not afraid, but this cursed waiting took the heart out of a man! +And he looked at his watch and found it half-past twelve. + + * * * * * + +At Yasin there was the most severe fighting. It lasted for three days, +and in effect amounted to a little tribal war. A man called Mackintosh +commanded, and he had the advantage of having regulars with him, Gurkhas +for the most part, who were old campaigners. The place had seemed +unquiet for some days, and certain precautions had been taken, so that +when the rioting broke out at sunset it was easy to get the town under +subjection and prepare for external attack. The Chiling Pass into +Chitral had given trouble of old, but Mackintosh was scarcely prepared +for the systematic assaults of Punialis and Tangiris from the east and +south. Having always been famous as an alarmist he put the right +interpretation on the business, and settled down to what he half hoped, +half feared, might be a great frontier war. The place was strong only +on the north side, and the defence was as much a question of engineering +as of war. His Sepoys toiled gallantly at the incomplete defences, +while the rest fought hand to hand--bayonet against knife, Metford +against Enfield--to cover their labour. He lost many men, but on the +evening of the next day he had the satisfaction of seeing the +fortifications complete, and he awaited a siege with equanimity, as he +was well victualled. + +On the second night the enemy again attacked, but the moon was bright, +and they were no match for his sharpshooters. About two in the morning +they fell back, and for the next day it looked as if they proposed to +invest the garrison. But by the third evening they began to melt away, +taking with them such small plunder as they had won. Mackintosh, who +was a man of enterprise, told off a detachment for pursuit, and cursed +bitterly the fate which had broken his ankle with a rifle-bullet. + +In the south along the railway the warnings came in good time. At Rawal +Pindi there was some small difficulty with native officials, a large +body of whom seemed to have unaccountably disappeared. This delayed for +some time the sending of a freight-train to Abbotabad, but by and by +substitutes were found, and the works left under guard. The telegram to +Peshawur found things in readiness there, for memories of old trouble +still linger, and people sleep lightly on that frontier. Word came of +native riots in the south, at Lahore and Amritsar, and the line of towns +which mark the way to Delhi. In some places extraordinary accidents +were reported. Certain officers had gone off on holiday and had not +returned; odd and unintelligible commands had come to perplex the minds +of others; whole camps were reported sick where sickness was least +expected. A little rising of certain obscure rivers had broken up an +important highway by destroying all the bridges save the one which +carried the railway. The whole north was on the brink of a sudden +disorganization, but the brink had still to be passed. It lay with its +masters to avert calamity; and its masters, going about with haggard +faces, prayed for daylight and a few hours to prepare. + + * * * * * + +George had sent his men to Khautmi before he entered the telegraph hut, +and he followed himself in twenty minutes. Somewhere upon the hill-road +he met St. John with a dozen men, who abused him roundly and besought +details. + +"Are you sure?" he cried. "For God's sake, say you're mistaken. For, +if you're not, upon my soul it's the last hour for all of us." + +George was in little mood for jest. He told Lewis's tale in a few +words. + +"A pass beyond Nazri," the man cried. "Why, I was there shooting buck +last week. Up the nullah and over the ridge, and then a cleft at the +top of the next valley? Does he say there's a pass there? Maybe, but +I'll be hanged if an army could get through. If we get there we can +hold it." + +"We haven't time. They may be here at any moment. Send men to Forza +and get them to light the fires. Oh, for God's sake, be quick! I've +left Haystoun down there. The obstinate beggar was too tired to move." + +Over all the twenty odd miles between Forza and Khautmi there is a chain +of fires which can be used for signals in the Border wars. On this +night Khautmi was to take the west side of the Nazri gully and Forza the +east, and the two quickest runners in the place were sent off to Andover +with the news. He was to come towards them, leaving men at the +different signal-posts in case of scattered assaults, and if he came in +time the two forces would join in holding the Nazri pass. But should +the invader come before, then it fell on the Khautmi men to stand alone. +It was a smooth green hollow in the stony hills, some hundred yards +wide, and at the most they might hope to make a fight of thirty minutes. +St. John and George, with their men, ran down the stony road till the +sweat dripped from their brows, though the night was chilly. Mitchinson +was to follow with the rest and light the fires; meantime, they must get +to Nazri, in case the march should forestall them. St. John was +cursing his ill-luck. Two hours earlier and they might have held the +distant cleft in the hills, and, if they were doomed to perish, have +perished to some purpose. But the holding of the easy Nazri pass was +sheer idle mania, and yet it was the only chance of gaining some paltry +minutes. As for George, he had forgotten his vexatious. His one +anxiety was for Lewis; that he should be in time to have his friend at +his side. And when at last they came down on the pass and saw the +camp-fire blazing fiercely and no trace of the enemy, he experienced a +sense of vast relief. Lewis was making himself comfortable, cool beggar +that he was, and now was probably sleeping. He should be left alone; so +he persuaded St. John that the best point to take their stand on was on +a shoulder of hill beyond the fire. It gave him honest pleasure to +think that at last he had stolen a march on his friend. He should at +least have his sleep in peace before the inevitable end. + +He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past eleven. + +"Haystoun said they'd be here at midnight," he whispered to his +companion. "We haven't long. When do you suppose Andover will come?" + +"Not for an hour and a half at the earliest. Afraid this is going to be +our own private show. Where's Haystoun?" + +George nodded back to the fire in the hollow, and the tent beside it. +"There, I expect, sleeping. He's dog-tired, and he always was a very +cool hand in a row. He'll be wakened soon enough, poor chap." + +"You're sure he can't tell us anything?" + +"Nothing. He told me all. Better let him be." Mitchinson came up with +the rearguard. Living all but alone in the wilds had made him a silent +man compared to whom the taciturn St. John was garrulous. He nodded to +George and sat down. + +"How many are we?" George asked. + +"Forty-three, counting the three of us. Not enough for a good stand. +Wonder how it'll turn out. Never had to do such a thing before." + +St. John, whose soul longed for Maxims, posted his men as best he +could. There was no time to throw up earthworks, but a rough cairn of +stone which stood in the middle of the hollow gave at least a central +rallying-ground. Then they waited, watching the fleecy night vapours +blow across the peaks and straining their ears for the first sound of +men. + +George grew impatient. "It can't be more than five miles to the pass. +Shouldn't some of us try to get there? It would make all the +difference." + +St. John declined sharply. "We've taken our place and we must stick to +it. We can't afford to straggle. Hullo! it's just on twelve. Thwaite +has had three hours to prepare, and he's bound to have wakened the +south. I fancy the business won't quite come off this time." + +Suddenly in the chilly silence there rose something like the faint and +distant sound of rifles. It was no more than the sound of stone +dropping on a rock ledge, for, still and clear and cold though the night +was, the narrowness of the valley and the height of the cliffs dulled +all distant sounds. But each man had the ear of the old hunter, and +waited with head bent forward. + +Again the drip-drip; then a scattering noise as when one lets peas fall +on the floor. + +"God! That's carbines. Who the devil are they fighting with?" +Mitchinson's eye had lost its lethargy. His scraggy neck was craned +forward, and his grim mouth had relaxed into a grimmer smile. + +"It's them, sure enough," said St. John, and spoke something to his +servant. + +"I'm going forward," said George. "It may be somebody else making a +stand, and we're bound to help." + +"You're bound not to be an ass," said St. John. "Who in the Lord's +name could it be? It may be the Badas polishing off some hereditary +foes, and it may be Marker getting rid of some wandering hillmen. Man, +we're miles beyond the pale. Who's to make a stand but ourselves?" + +Again came the patter of little sounds, and then a long calm. + +"They're through now," said St. John. "The next thing to listen for is +the sound of their feet. When that comes I pass the word along. We're +all safe for heaven, so keep your minds easy." + +But the sound of feet was long in coming. Only the soft night airs, and +at rare intervals an eagle's cry, or the bleat of a doe from the valley +bottom. The first half-hour of waiting was a cruel strain. In such +moments a man's sins rise up large before him. When his future life is +narrowed down to an hour's compass, he sees with cruel distinctness the +follies of his past. A thousand things he had done or left undone +loomed on George's mental horizon. His slackness, his self-indulgence, +his unkindness--he went over the whole innocent tale of his sins. To +the happy man who lives in the open and meets the world with a square +front this forced final hour of introspection has peculiar terrors. +Meantime Lewis was sleeping peacefully in the tent by the still cheerful +fire. Thank God, he was spared this hideous waiting! + +About two Andover turned up with fifteen men, hot and desperate. He +listened to St. John's story in silence. + +"Thank God, I'm in time. Who found out this? Haystoun? Good man, +Lewis! I wonder who has been firing out there. They can't have been +stopped? It's getting devilish late for them anyhow, and I believe +there's a little hope. It would be too risky to leave this pass, but I +vote we send a scout." + +A man was chosen and dispatched. Two hours later he returned to the +mystified watchers at Nazri. He had been on the hill-shoulder and +looked into the cleft. There was no sign of men there, but he had heard +the sound of men, though where he could not tell. Far down the cleft +there was a gleam of fire, but no man near it. + +"That's a Bada dodge," said Andover promptly. "Now I wonder if Marker +trusted too much to these gentry, and they have done us the excellent +service of misleading him. They hate us like hell, and they'd sell +their souls any day for a dozen cartridges; so it can't have been done +on purpose. Seems to me there has been a slip in his plans somewhere." + +But the sound of voices! The man was questioned closely, and he was +strong on its truth. He was a hillman from the west of the Khyber, and +he swore that he knew the sound of human speech in the hills many miles +off, though he could not distinguish the words. + +"In thirty minutes it will be morning," said George. "Lord, such a +night, and Lewis to have missed it all!" His spirits were rising, and he +lit a pipe. The north was safe whatever happened, and, as the inertness +of midnight passed off, he felt satisfaction in any prospect, however +hazardous. He sat down beneath a boulder and smoked, while Andover +talked with the others. They were the frontier soldiers, and this was +their profession; he was the amateur to whom technicalities were +unmeaning. + +Suddenly he sprang up and touched St. John on the shoulder. A great +chill seemed to have passed over the world, and on the hill-tops there +was a faint light. Both men looked to the east, and there, beyond the +Forza hills, was the red foreglow spreading over the grey. It was dawn, +and with the dawn came safety. The fires had burned low, and the +vagrant morning winds were beginning to scatter the white ashes. Now +was the hour for bravado, since the time for silence had gone. St. +John gave the word, and it was passed like a roll-call to left and +right, the farthest man shouting it along the ribs of mountain to the +next watch-fire. The air had grown clear and thin, and far off the dim +repetition was heard, which told of sentries at their place, and the +line of posts which rimmed the frontier. + +Mitchinson moistened his dry lips and filled his lungs with the cold, +fresh air. "That," he said slowly, "is the morning report of the last +outpost of the Empire, and by the grace of God it's 'All's well.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE BLESSING OF GAD + + +"Gad--a troop shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the last." + +Lewis peered into the gorge and saw only a thin darkness. The high +walls made pits of shade at the foot, but above there was a misty column +of light which showed the spectres of rock and bush in the nullah +beyond. It was all but dark, and the stars were coming out like the +lights on a sea-wall, hard and cold and gleaming. Just in the throat of +the pass a huge boulder had fallen and left a passage not two yards +wide. Beyond there was a sharp descent of a dozen feet to the gravelled +bottom which fell away in easier stages to the other watershed. Here +was a place made by nature for his plans. With immense pains he rolled +the biggest stones he could move to the passage, so that they were +poised above the slope. He tried the great boulder, too, with his +shoulders, and it seemed to quiver. In the last resort this mass of +rock might be sent crashing down the incline, and by the blessing of God +it should account for its man. + +He brought his rifles forward to the stones, loaded them and felt the +cartridges easy in his pocket. They were for the thirty-yards range; +his pistol would be kept for closer quarters. He tried one after the +other, cuddling the stocks to his cheek. They were all dear-loved +weapons, used in deer-stalking at home and on many a wilder beat. He +knew the tricks of each, and he had little pet devices laughed at by his +friends. This one had clattered down fifty feet of rock in Ross-shire +as the scars on the stock bore witness, and another had his initials +burned in the wood, the relic of a winter's night in a Finnish camp. A +thousand old pleasant memories came back to him, the sights and scents +and sounds of forgotten places, the zest of toil and escapade, the joy +of food and warmth and rest. Well! he had lived, had tasted to the +full the joys of the old earth, the kindly mother of her children. He +had faced death thoughtlessly many times, and now the Ancient Enemy was +on his heels and he was waiting to give him greeting. A phrase ran in +his head, some trophy from his aimless wanderings among books, which +spoke of death coming easily to one "who has walked steadfastly in the +direction of his dreams." It was a comforting thought to a creature of +moods and fancies. He had failed, doubtless, but he had ever kept some +select fanciful aim unforgotten. In all his weakness he had never +betrayed this ultimate Desire of the Heart. + +Some few feet up the cliff was a little thicket of withered thorns. The +air was chilly and the cleft was growing very black. Why should not he +make a fire behind the great boulder? He gathered some armfuls and +heaped them in a space of dry sand. They were a little wet, so they +burned slowly with a great smoke, which the rising night wind blew +behind him. He was still hungry, so he ate the food he had brought in +his pockets; and then he lit his pipe. How oddly the tobacco tasted in +this moment of high excitement! It was as if the essence of all the +pipes he had ever smoked was concentrated into this last one. The smoke +blew back, and as he sniffed its old homely fragrance he seemed to feel +the smell of peat and heather, of drenched homespun in the snowy bogs, +and the glory of a bright wood fire and the moorland cottage. In a +second his thoughts were many thousand miles away. The night wind +cooled his brow, and he looked into the dark gap and saw his own past. + +The first picture was a cold place on a low western island. Snow was +drifting sparsely, and a dull grey Atlantic swell was grumbling on the +reefs. He was crouching among the withered rushes, where seaweed and +shells had been blown, and snow lay in dirty patches. He felt the thick +collar of his shooting-coat tight about his neck, while the December +evening grew darker and colder. A gillie, who had no English, was lying +at his right hand, and far out at sea a string of squattering geese were +slowly drifting shorewards with the wind. He saw the scene clear in +every line, and he remembered the moment as if it had been yesterday. It +had been one of his periods of great exultation. He had just left +Oxford, and had fled northward after some weeks in Paris to wash out the +taste of civilization from his mouth among the island north-westers. He +had had a great day among the woodcock, and now was finishing with a +stalk after wild geese. He was furiously hungry, chilled and soaked to +the bone, but riotously happy. His future seemed to stretch before him, +a brighter continuation of a bright past, a time for high achievement, +bold work, and yet no surcease of pleasure. He had been master of +himself in that hour, his body firm and strong, his soul clear, his mind +a tempered weapon awaiting his hands. + +And then the scene changed to a June evening in his own countryside. He +was deep in the very heart of the hills beside a little loch, whose +clear waves lapped on beaches of milky sand, it was just on twilight, +and an infinite sighing of soft winds was around him, a far-away +ineffable brightness of sunset, and the good scents of dusk among thyme +and heather. He had fished all the afternoon, and his catch lay on the +bent beside him. He was to sleep the night in his plaid, and already a +fire of heather-roots behind him was prepared for supper. He had been +for a swim, and his hair was still wet on his forehead. Just across a +conical hill rose into the golden air, the highest hill in all the +countryside, but here but a little thing, for the loch was as high as +many a hill-top. Just on its face was a scaur, and there a raven--a +speck--was wheeling slowly. Among the little islands broods of mallard +were swimming, and trout in a bay were splashing with wide circles. The +whole place had seemed caught up into an ecstasy, a riot of gold and +crimson and far-off haunting shades and scents and voices. And yet it +was no wild spectacle; it was the delicate comfort of it all which had +charmed him. Life seemed one glorious holiday, the world a garden of +the gods. There was his home across the hills, with its cool chambers, +its books and pictures, its gardens and memories. There were his +friends up and down the earth. There was the earth itself waiting for +his conquest. And, meantime, there was this airy land around him, his +own by the earliest form of occupation. + +The fire died down to embers and a sudden scattering of ashes woke him +out of his dreaming. The old Scots land was many thousand miles away. +His past was wiped out behind him. He was alone in a very strange +place, cut off by a great gulf from youth and home and pleasure. For an +instant the extreme loneliness of an exile's death smote him, but the +next second he comforted himself. The heritage of his land and his +people was his in this ultimate moment a hundredfold more than ever. +The sounding tale of his people's wars--one against a host, a foray in +the mist, a last stand among the mountain snows--sang in his heart like +a tune. The fierce, northern exultation, which glories in hardships and +the forlorn, came upon him with such keenness and delight that, as he +looked into the night and the black unknown, he felt the joy of a +greater kinship. He was kin to men lordlier than himself, the +true-hearted who had ridden the King's path and trampled a little world +under foot. To the old fighters in the Border wars, the religionists of +the South, the Highland gentlemen of the Cause, he cried greeting over +the abyss of time. He had lost no inch of his inheritance. Where, +indeed, was the true Scotland? Not in the little barren acres he had +left, the few thousands of city-folk, or the contentions of unlovely +creeds and vain philosophies. The elect of his race had ever been the +wanderers. No more than Hellas had his land a paltry local unity. +Wherever the English flag was planted anew, wherever men did their duty +faithfully and without hope of little reward--there was the fatherland +of the true patriot. + +The time was passing, and still the world was quiet. The hour must be +close on midnight, and still there was no sign of men. For the first +time he dared to hope for success. Before, an hour's delay was all that +he had sought. To give the north time for a little preparation, to make +defence possible, had been his aim; now with the delay he seemed to see +a chance for victory. Bardur would be alarmed hours ago; men would be +on the watch all over Kashmir and the Punjab; the railways would be +guarded. The invader would find at the least no easy conquest. When +they had trodden his life out in the defile they would find stronger men +to bar their path, and he would not have died in vain. It was a slender +satisfaction for vanity, for what share would he have in the defence? +Unknown, unwept, he would perish utterly, and to others would be the +glory. He did not care, nay, he rejoiced in the brave obscurity. He +had never sought so vulgar a thing as fame. He was going out of life +like a snuffed candle. George, if George survived, would know nothing +of his death. He was miles beyond the frontier, and if George, after +months of war, should make his way to this fatal cleft, what trace would +he find of him? And all his friends, Wratislaw, Arthur Mordaunt, the +folk of Glenavelin--no word would ever come to them to tell them of his +end. + +But Alice--and in one wave there returned to him the story which he had +striven to put out of his heart. She had known him in his weakness, but +she would never think of him in his strength. The whimsical fate +pleased him. The last meeting on that grey autumn afternoon at the +Broken Bridge had heartened him for his travellings. It had been a +compact between them; and now he was redeeming the promise of the tryst. +And she would never know it, would only know that somewhere and somehow +he had ceased to struggle with an inborn weakness. Well-a-day! It was +no world of rounded corners and complete achievements. It was enough if +a hint, a striving, a beginning were found in the scheme of man's +frailty. He had no clear-cut conception of a future--that was the happy +lot of the strong-hearted--but he had a generous intolerance of little +success. He did not ask rewards, but he prayed for the hope of a good +beginning or a gallant failure. The odd romance which lies in the +wanderer's brain welcomed the paradox. Alice and her bright hair +floated dim on the horizon of his vision, something exquisite and dear, +a memory, a voice, a note of tenderness in this last exhilaration. A +sentimental passion was beyond him; he was too critical of folly to +worship any lost lady; and he had no love for vain reminiscences. But +the girl had become the embodied type of the past. A year ago he had +not seen her, now she was home and childhood and friends to him. For a +moment there was the old heart-hunger, but the pain had gone. The +ineffectual longing which had galled him had perished at the advent of +his new strength. + +For in this ultimate moment he at last seemed to have come to his own. +The vulgar little fears, which, like foxes, gnaw at the roots of the +heart, had gone, even the greater perils of faint hope and a halting +energy. The half-hearted had become the stout-hearted. The resistless +vigour of the strong and the simple was his. He stood in the dark gully +peering into the night, his muscles stiff from heel to neck. The +weariness of the day had gone: only the wound in his ear, got the day +before, had begun to bleed afresh. He wiped the blood away with his +handkerchief, and laughed at the thought of this little care. In a few +minutes he would be facing death, and now he was staunching a pin-prick. + +He wondered idly how soon death would come. It would be speedy, at +least, and final. And then the glory of the utter loss. His bones +whitening among the stones, the suns of summer beating on them and the +winter snowdrifts decently covering them with a white sepulchre. No man +could seek a lordlier burial. It was the death he had always craved. +From murder, fire, and sudden death, why should we call on the Lord to +deliver us? A broken neck in a hunting-field, a slip on rocky +mountains, a wounded animal at bay--such was the environment of death +for which he had ever prayed. But this--this was beyond his dreams. + +And with it all a great humility fell upon him. His battles were all +unfought. His life had been careless and gay; and the noble +commonplaces of faith and duty had been things of small meaning. He had +lived within the confines of a little aristocracy of birth and wealth +and talent, and the great melancholy world scourged by the winds of God +had seemed to him but a phrase of rhetoric. His creeds and his +arguments seemed meaningless now in this solemn hour; the truth had been +his no more than his crude opponent's! Had he his days to live over +again he would look on the world with different eyes. No man any more +should call him a dreamer. It pleased him to think that, half-hearted +and sceptical as he had been, a humorist, a laughing philosopher, he was +now dying for one of the catchwords of the crowd. He had returned to +the homely paths of the commonplace, and young, unformed, untried, he +was caught up by kind fate to the place of the wise and the heroic. + + * * * * * + +Suddenly on his thoughts there broke in a dull tread of men, a sound of +slipping stones and feet upon dry gravel. He broke into the cold sweat +of tense nerves, and waited, half hidden, with his rifle ready. Then +came the light of dull lanterns which showed a thin, endless column +beneath the rock walls. They advanced with wonderful quietness, the +sound of feet broken only by a soft word of command. He calculated the +distance--now it was three hundred yards, now two, now a bare eighty. +At fifty his rifle flew to his shoulder and he fired. His nerves were +bad, for one bullet clicked on the rock, while the second took the dust +a yard before the enemy's feet. Instantly there was a halt and the +sound of speech. + +The failure had steadied him. The second pair of shots killed their +men. He heard the quick cry of pain and shivered. He was new to this +work and the cry hurt him. But he picked up his express and fired +again, and again there was a cry and a fall. Then he heard a word of +command and the sound of men creeping in the side of the nullah. Eye +and ear were marvelously acute at the moment, for he picked out the +scouts and killed them. Then he loaded his rifles and waited. + +He saw a man in the half-light not five yards below him. He fired and +the man dropped, but he had used his rifle and the great spattering of +earth showed his whereabouts. Now was the time for keen eye and steady +arm. The enemy had halted thirty yards off and beneath the slope there +was a patch of darkness. He kept one eye on this, for it might contain +a man. He fixed his attention on a ray of moonlight which fell across +the floor of the gully. When a man crept past this he shot, and he +rarely failed. + +Then a command was given and the column came forward at the double. He +fired two shots, but the advance continued. They passed the ray of +light and he saw the whites of their eyes and the gleam of teeth and +steel. They paused a second to fire a volley, and a storm of shot +rattled about him. He had stepped back into his shelter, and was +unscathed, but when he looked out he saw the enemy at the foot of the +slope. His weapons were all loaded except the express, and in mad haste +he sent shot after shot into the ranks. The fire halted them, and for a +second they were on the edge of a panic. This unknown destruction +coming out of the darkness was terrifying to the stoutest hearts. All +the while there was wrath behind them. This stopping of the advance +column was throwing the whole force into confusion. Angry messages came +up from the centre, and distracted officers cursed their native guides. + +Meanwhile Lewis was something wholly unlike himself, a maddened creature +with every sense on the alert, drinking in the glory of the fight. He +husbanded the chances of his life with generous parsimony. Every chance +meant some minutes' delay and every delay a new link of safety for the +north. His cartridges were getting near an end, but there still +remained the stones and his pistol and the power of his arm hand to +hand. + +Suddenly came a second volley which all but killed him, bullets glancing +on all sides of him and scraping the rocks with a horrid message of +death. Then on the heels of it came a charge up the slope. The turn +had come for the last expedient. He rushed to the stone and with the +strength of madness rooted it from its foundations. It wavered for a +second, and then with a cloud of earth and gravel it plunged downwards. +A second and it had ploughed its way with a sickening grinding sound +into the ranks of the men below. There was one wild scream of terror, +and then a retreat, a flight, almost a panic. + +Down in the hollow was a babel of sound, men yelping with fright, +officers calming and cursing them, and the shouting of the forces +behind. For Lewis the last moment was approaching. The neck of the +pass was now bare and wide and half of the slope was gone. He had lost +his weapons in the fall, all but his express, and the loosening of the +stone had crushed his foot so that he could scarcely stand. Then order +seemed to be restored, for another volley rang out, which passed over +his head as he crouched on the ground. The enemy were advancing slowly, +resolutely. He knew that now there was something different in their +tread. + +He was calm and quiet. The mad exhilaration was ebbing and he was +calculating chances as dispassionately as a scientist in his study. Two +shots, the six chambers of his pistol, and then he would be ground to +powder. The moon rode over the top of the cleft and a sudden wave of +light fell on the slope, the writhing dead, and below, the advancing +column. It gave him a chance for fair shooting, and he did not miss. +But the men were maddened with anger and taunts, and they would have +charged a battery. They came up on the slope with a fierce rush, +cursing in gutturals. He slipped behind the old friendly jag of rock +and waited till they were abreast. Then began a strange pistol +practice. Crouching in the darkness he selected his men and shot them, +making no mistake. The front ranks of the column turned to the right +and lunged with their bayonets into the gloom. But the man knew his +purpose. He climbed farther back till he was above their heads, looking +down on ranks of white inhuman faces mad with slaughter and the courage +which is next door to fear. They were still advancing, but with an +uncertain air. He saw his chance and took it. Crying out he knew not +what, he leapt among them with clutched rifle, striking madly to right +and left. There was a roar of fright, and for a moment a space was +cleared around him. He fought like a maniac, stumbling with his crushed +foot and leaving two men stunned at his feet. But it was only for a +moment. A bayonet entered his side and his rifle snapped at the stock. +He grappled with the nearest man and pulled him to the ground, for he +could stand no longer. Then there came a wild surge around, a dozen +bayonets pierced him, and in the article of death he was conscious of a +great press which ground him into the earth. The next moment the column +was marching over his body. + + * * * * * + +Dawn came with light and sweet airs to the dark cleft in the hills. +Just at that moment, when the red east was breaking into spires and +clouds of colour, and the little morning winds were beginning to flutter +among the crags, two men were standing in the throat of the pass. The +ground about them was ploughed up as if by a battery, the rock seamed +and broken, and red stains of blood were on the dry gravel. From the +north, in the direction of the plain, came the confused sound of an army +in camp. But to the south there was a glimpse through an aperture of +hill of a far side of mountain, and on it a gleam as of fire. + +Marka, clad in the uniform of a captain of Cossacks, looked fiercely at +his companion and then at the beacon. + +"Look," he said, "look and listen!" And sure enough in the morning +stillness came the sound as of a watchword cried from post to post. + +"That," said he, "is the morning signal of an awakened empire and the +final proof of our failure." + +"It was no fault of mine," said Fazir Khan sourly. "I did as I was +commanded, and lo! when I come I find an army in confusion and the +frontier guarded." The chief spoke with composure, but he had in his +heart an uneasy consciousness that he had had some share in this +undoing. + +Marka looked down at a body which lay wrinkled across the path. It was +trodden all but shapeless, the poor face was unrecognizable, the legs +were scrawled like a child's letters. Only one hand with a broken gold +signet-ring remained to tell of the poor inmate of the clay. + +The Cossack looked down on the dead with a scowling face. "Curse +him--curse him eternally. Who would have guessed that this fool, this +phrasing fool, would have spoiled our plans? Curse his conscience and +his honour, and God pity him for a fool! I must return to my troops, +for this is no place to linger in." The man saw his work of years +spoiled in a night, and all by the agency of a single adventurer. He +saw his career blighted, his reputation gone. It is not to be wondered +at if he was bitter. + +He turned to go, and in leaving pushed the dead man over with his foot. +He saw the hand and the broken ring. + +"This thing was once a gentleman," he said, and he went down the pass. + +But Fazir Khan remained by the body. He remembered his guest of two +days before, and he cursed himself for underrating this wandering +Englishman. He saw himself in evil case. His chances of spoil and +glory had departed. He foresaw expeditions of reprisal, and the +Bada-Mawidi hunted like partridges upon the mountains. He had staked his +all on a desperate chance, and this one man had been his ruin. For a +moment the barbarian came out, and in a sudden ferocity he kicked the +dead. + +But as he looked again he was moved to a juster appreciation. + +"This thing was a man," he said. + +Then stooping he dipped his finger in blood and touched his forehead. +"This man," he said, "was of the race of kings." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-HEARTED*** + + +******* This file should be named 17047-8.txt or 17047-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17047 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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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 www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: The Half-Hearted + +Author: John Buchan + +Release Date: October 13, 2012 [EBook #17047] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-HEARTED *** + + + + +Produced by MRK +HTML version by Chuck Greif + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h1>THE HALF-HEARTED</h1> + +<p class="cb">by</p> + +<h2>JOHN BUCHAN</h2> + +<h2>NOTE</h2> + +<div class="letra"> +<p class="c">For the convenience of the reader it may +be stated that the period of this tale is the +closing years of the 19th Century.</p> +</div> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary="" +style="border:none;"> +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><a href="#PART_I">PART I</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td><td align="left">EVENING IN GLENAVELIN</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td><td align="left">LADY MANORWATER’S GUESTS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td><td align="left">UPLAND WATER</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td><td align="left">AFTERNOON IN A GARDEN</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td><td align="left">A CONFERENCE OF THE POWERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td><td align="left">PASTORAL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td><td align="left">THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td><td align="left">MR. WRATISLAW’S ADVENT</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td><td align="left">THE EPISODES OF A DAY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td><td align="left">HOME TRUTHS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td><td align="left">THE PRIDE BEFORE A FALL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td><td align="left">PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td><td align="left">THE PLEASURES OF A CONSCIENCE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td><td align="left">A GENTLEMAN IN STRAITS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td><td align="left">THE NEMESIS OF A COWARD</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td><td align="left">A MOVEMENT OF THE POWERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td><td align="left">THE BRINK OF THE RUBICON</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td><td align="left">THE FURTHER BRINK</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td><td align="left">THE BRIDGE OF BROKEN HEARTS</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><a href="#PART_II">PART II</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td><td align="left">THE EASTERN ROAD</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td><td align="left">IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td><td align="left">THE OUTPOSTS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td><td align="left">THE DINNER AT GALETTI’S</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV.</a></td><td align="left">THE TACTICS OP A CHIEF</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">XXV.</a></td><td align="left">MRS. LOGAN’S BALL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">XXVI.</a></td><td align="left">FRIEND TO FRIEND</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">XXVII.</a></td><td align="left">THE ROAD TO FORZA</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">XXVIII.</a></td><td align="left">THE HILL-FORT</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">XXIX.</a></td><td align="left">THE WAY TO NAZRI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">XXX.</a></td><td align="left">EVENING IN THE HILLS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">XXXI.</a></td><td align="left">EVENTS SOUTH OF THE BORDER</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">XXXII.</a></td><td align="left">THE BLESSING OF GAD</td></tr> +</table> + +<h1>THE HALF-HEARTED</h1> + +<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I</h2> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /><br /> +<small>EVENING IN GLENAVELIN</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">F<small>ROM</small> the heart of a great hill land Glenavelin stretches west and south +to the wider Gled valley, where its stream joins with the greater water +in its seaward course. Its head is far inland in a place of mountain +solitudes, but its mouth is all but on the lip of the sea, and salt +breezes fight with the flying winds of the hills. It is a land of green +meadows on the brink of heather, of far-stretching fir woods that climb +to the edge of the uplands and sink to the fringe of corn. Nowhere is +there any march between art and nature, for the place is in the main for +sheep, and the single road which threads the glen is little troubled +with cart and crop-laden wagon. Midway there is a stretch of wood and +garden around the House of Glenavelin, the one great dwelling-place in +the vale. But it is a dwelling and a little more, for the home of the +real lords of the land is many miles farther up the stream, in the +moorland house of Etterick, where the Avelin is a burn, and the hills +hang sharply over its source. To a stranger in an afternoon it seems a +very vale of content, basking in sun and shadow, green, deep, and +silent. But it is also a place of storms, for its name means the “glen +of white waters,†and mist and snow are commoner in its confines than +summer heats.</p> + +<p>On a very wet evening in June a young man in a high dogcart was driving +up the glen. A deer-stalker’s cap was tied down over his ears, and the +collar of a great white waterproof defended his neck. A cheerful +bronzed face was shadowed by the peak of his cap, and two very keen grey +eyes peered out into the mist. He was driving with tight rein, for the +mare was fresh and the road had awkward slopes and corners; but none the +less he was dreaming, thinking pleasant thoughts, and now and then +looking cheerily at the ribs of hill which at times were cleared of +mist. His clean-shaven face was wet and shining with the drizzle, pools +formed on the floor of the cart, and the mare’s flanks were plastered +with the weather.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he drew up sharp at the sight of a figure by the roadside.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Doctor Gracey,†he cried, “where on earth have you come from? +Come in and I’ll give you a lift.â€</p> + +<p>The figure advanced and scrambled into the vacant seat. It was a little +old man in a big topcoat with a quaint-fashioned wide-awake hat on his +head. In ill weather all distinctions are swept away. The stranger +might have been a statesman or a tramp.</p> + +<p>“It is a pleasure to see you, Doctor,†and the young man grasped a +mittened hand and looked into his companion’s face. There was something +both kindly and mirthful in his grey eyes.</p> + +<p>The old man arranged his seat comfortably, buttoned another button at +the neck of the coat, and then scrutinised the driver. “It’s four +years—four years in October since I last cast eyes on you, Lewie, my +boy,†he said. “I heard you were coming, so I refused a lift from +Haystounslacks and the minister. Haystounslacks was driving from +Gledsmuir, and unless the Lord protects him he will be in Avelin water +ere he gets home. Whisky and a Glenavelin road never agree, Lewie, as I +who have mended the fool’s head a dozen times should know. But I +thought you would never come, and was prepared to ride in the next +baker’s van.†The Doctor spoke with the pure English and high northern +voice of an old school of professional men, whose tongue, save in +telling a story, knew not the vernacular, and yet in its pitch and +accent inevitably betrayed their birthplace. Precise in speech and +dress, uncommonly skilful, a mild humorist, and old in the world’s +wisdom, he had gone down the evening way of life with the heart of a +boy.</p> + +<p>“I was delayed—I could not help it, though I was all afternoon at the +job,†said the young man. “I’ve seen a dozen and more tenants and I +talked sheep and drains till I got out of my depth and was gravely +corrected. It’s the most hospitable place on earth, this, but I thought +it a pity to waste a really fine hunger on the inevitable ham and eggs, +so I waited for dinner. Lord, I have an appetite! Come and dine, +Doctor. I am in solitary state just now, and long, wet evenings are +dreary.â€</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid I must excuse myself, Lewie,†was the formal answer, with +just a touch of reproof. Dinner to Doctor Gracey was a serious +ceremony, and invitations should not be scattered rashly. “My +housekeeper’s wrath is not to be trifled with, as you should know.â€</p> + +<p>“I do,†said the young man in a tone of decent melancholy. “She once +cuffed my ears the month I stayed with you for falling in the burn. +Does she beat you, Doctor?â€</p> + +<p>“Indeed, no,†said the little old gentleman; “not as yet. But +physically she is my superior and I live in terror.†Then abruptly, “For +heaven’s sake, Lewie, mind the mare.â€</p> + +<p>“It’s all right,†said the driver, as the dogcart swung neatly round an +ugly turn. “There’s the mist going off the top of Etterick Law, +and—why, that’s the end of the Dreichill?â€</p> + +<p>“It’s the Dreichill, and beyond it is the Little Muneraw. Are you glad +to be home, Lewie?â€</p> + +<p>“Rather,†said the young man gravely. “This is my own countryside, and +I fancy it’s the last place a man forgets.â€</p> + +<p>“I fancy so—with right-thinking people. By the way, I have much to +congratulate you on. We old fogies in this desert place have been often +seeing your name in the newspapers lately. You are a most experienced +traveller.â€</p> + +<p>“Fair. But people made a great deal more of that than it deserved. It +was very simple, and I had every chance. Some day I will go out and do +the same thing again with no advantages, and if I come back you may +praise me then.â€</p> + +<p>“Right, Lewie. A bare game and no chances is the rule of war. And now, +what will you do?â€</p> + +<p>“Settle down,†said the young man with mock pathos, “which in my case +means settling up also. I suppose it is what you would call the crucial +moment in my life. I am going in for politics, as I always intended, +and for the rest I shall live a quiet country life at Etterick. I’ve a +wonderful talent for rusticity.â€</p> + +<p>The Doctor shot an inquiring glance from beneath the flaps of his hat. +“I never can make up my mind about you, Lewie.â€</p> + +<p>“I daresay not. It is long since I gave up trying to make up my mind +about myself.â€</p> + +<p>“When you were a very small and very bad boy I made the usual prophecy +that you would make a spoon or spoil a horn. Later I declared you would +make the spoon. I still keep to that opinion, but I wish to goodness I +knew what shape your spoon would take.â€</p> + +<p>“Ornamental, Doctor, some odd fancy spoon, but not useful. I feel an +inner lack of usefulness.â€</p> + +<p>“Humph! Then things are serious, Lewie, and I, as your elder, should +give advice; but confound it, my dear, I cannot think what it should be. +Life has been too easy for you, a great deal too easy. You want a +little of the salt and iron of the world. You are too clever ever to be +conceited, and you are too good a fellow ever to be a fool, but apart +from these sad alternatives there are numerous middle stages which are +not very happy.â€</p> + +<p>The young man’s face lengthened, as it always did either in repose or +reflection.</p> + +<p>“You are old and wise, Doctor. Have you any cure for a man with +sufficient money and no immediate profession to prevent stagnation?â€</p> + +<p>“None,†said the Doctor; “but the man himself can find many. The chief +is that he be conscious of his danger, and on the watch against it. As +a last expedient I should recommend a second course of travel.â€</p> + +<p>“But am I to be barred from my home because of this bogey of yours?â€</p> + +<p>“No, Lewie lad, but you must be kept, as you say, ‘up to scratch,’†and +the old face smiled. “You are too good to waste. You Haystouns are +high-strung, finicking people, on whom idleness sits badly. Also you +are the last of your race and have responsibilities. You must remember +I was your father’s friend, and knew you all well.â€</p> + +<p>At the mention of his father the young man’s interest quickened.</p> + +<p>“I must have been only about six years old when he died. I find so few +people who remember him well and can tell me about him.â€</p> + +<p>“You are very like him, Lewie. He began nearly as well as you; but he +settled down into a quiet life, which was the very thing for which he +was least fitted. I do not know if he had altogether a happy time. He +lost interest in things, and grew shy and rather irritable. He +quarrelled with most of his neighbours, and got into a trick of +magnifying little troubles till he shrank from the slightest +discomfort.â€</p> + +<p>“And my mother?â€</p> + +<p>“Ah, your mother was different—a cheery, brave woman. While she lived +she kept him in some measure of self-confidence, but you know she died +at your birth, Lewie, and after that he grew morose and retiring. I +speak about these things from the point of view of my profession, and I +fancy it is the special disease which lies in your blood. You have all +been over-cultured and enervated; as I say, you want some of the salt +and iron of life.â€</p> + +<p>The young man’s brow was furrowed in a deep frown which in no way broke +the good-humour of his face. They were nearing a cluster of houses, the +last clachan of sorts in the glen, where a kirk steeple in a grove of +trees proclaimed civilization. A shepherd passed them with a couple of +dogs, striding with masterful step towards home and comfort. The cheery +glow of firelight from the windows pleased both men as they were whirled +through the raw weather.</p> + +<p>“There, you see,†said the Doctor, nodding his head towards the +retreating figure; “there’s a man who in his own way knows the secret of +life. Most of his days are spent in dreary, monotonous toil. He is for +ever wrestling with the weather and getting scorched and frozen, and the +result is that the sparse enjoyments of his life are relished with a +rare gusto. He sucks his pipe of an evening with a zest which the man +who lies on his back all day smoking knows nothing about. So, too, the +labourer who hoes turnips for one and sixpence the day. They know the +arduousness of life, which is a lesson we must all learn sooner or +later. You people who have been coddled and petted must learn it, too; +and for you it is harder to learn, but pleasanter in the learning, +because you stand above the bare need of things, and have leisure for +the adornments. We must all be fighters and strugglers, Lewie, and it +is better to wear out than to rust out. It is bad to let choice things +become easily familiar; for, you know, familiarity is apt to beget a +proverbial offspring.â€</p> + +<p>The young man had listened attentively, but suddenly he leaned from the +seat and with a dexterous twitch of his whip curled it round the leg of +a boy of sixteen who stood before a cottage.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Jock,†he cried. “When are you coming up to see me? Bring your +brother some day and we’ll go and fish the Midburn.†The urchin pulled +off a ragged cap and grinned with pleasure.</p> + +<p>“That’s the boy you pulled out of the Avelin?†asked the Doctor. “I had +heard of that performance. It was a good introduction to your +home-coming.â€</p> + +<p>“It was nothing,†said the young man, flushing slightly. “I was +crossing the ford and the stream was up a bit. The boy was fishing, +wading pretty deep, and in turning round to stare at me he slipped and +was carried down. I merely rode my horse out and collared him. There +was no danger.â€</p> + +<p>“And the Black Linn just below,†said the Doctor, incredulously. “You +have got the usual modesty of the brave man, Lewie.â€</p> + +<p>“It was a very small thing. My horse knew its business—that was all.†+And he flicked nervously with the whip.</p> + +<p>A grey house among trees rose on the left with a quaint gateway of +unhewn stone. The dogcart pulled up, and the Doctor scrambled down and +stood shaking the rain from his hat and collar. He watched the young +man till, with a skilful turn, he had entered Etterick gates, and then +with a more meditative face than is usual in a hungry man he went +through the trees to his own dwelling.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /><br /> +<small>LADY MANORWATER’S GUESTS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">W<small>HEN</small> the afternoon train from the south drew into Gledsmuir station, a +girl who had been devouring the landscape for the last hour with eager +eyes, rose nervously to prepare for exit. To Alice Wishart the country +was a novel one, and the prospect before her an unexplored realm of +guesses. The daughter of a great merchant, she had lived most of her +days in the ugly environs of a city, save for such time as she had spent +at the conventional schools. She had never travelled; the world of men +and things was merely a name to her, and a girlhood, lonely and +brightened chiefly by the companionship of books, had not given her +self-confidence. She had casually met Lady Manorwater at some political +meeting in her father’s house, and the elder woman had taken a strong +liking to the quiet, abstracted child. Then came an invitation to +Glenavelin, accepted gladly yet with much fear and searching of heart. +Now, as she looked out on the shining mountain land, she was full of +delight that she was about to dwell in the heart of it. Something of +pride, too, was present, that she was to be the guest of a great lady, +and see something of a life which seemed infinitely remote to her +provincial thoughts. But when her journey drew near its end she was +foolishly nervous, and scanned the platform with anxious eye.</p> + +<p>The sight of her hostess reassured her. Lady Manorwater was a small +middle-aged woman, with a thin classical face, large colourless eyes, +and untidy fair hair. She was very plainly dressed, and as she darted +forward to greet the girl with entire frankness and kindness, Alice +forgot her fears and kissed her heartily. A languid young woman was +introduced as Miss Afflint, and in a few minutes the three were in the +Glenavelin carriage with the wide glen opening in front.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, I hope you will enjoy your visit. We are quite a small +party, for Jack says Glenavelin is far too small to entertain in. You +are fond of the country, aren’t you? And of course the place is very +pretty. There is tennis and golf and fishing; but perhaps you don’t +like these things? We are not very well off for neighbours, but we are +large enough in number to be sufficient to ourselves. Don’t you think +so, Bertha?†And Lady Manorwater smiled at the third member of the +group.</p> + +<p>Miss Afflint, a silent girl, smiled back and said nothing. She had been +engaged in a secret study of Alice’s face, and whenever the object of +the study raised her eyes she found a pair of steady blue ones beaming +on her. It was a little disconcerting, and Alice gazed out at the +landscape with a fictitious curiosity.</p> + +<p>They passed out of the Gled valley into the narrower strath of Avelin, +and soon, leaving the meadows behind, went deep into the recesses of +woods. At a narrow glen bridged by the road and bright with the spray +of cascades and the fresh green of ferns, Alice cried out in delight, +“Oh, I must come back here some day and sketch it. What a Paradise of a +place!â€</p> + +<p>“Then you had better ask Lewie’s permission.†And Lady Manorwater +laughed.</p> + +<p>“Who is Lewie?†asked the girl, anticipating some gamekeeper or +shepherd.</p> + +<p>“Lewie is my nephew. He lives at Etterick, up at the head of the glen.â€</p> + +<p>Miss Afflint spoke for the first time. “A very good man. You should +know Lewie, Miss Wishart. I’m sure you would like him. He is a great +traveller, you know, and has written a famous book. Lewis Haystoun is +his full name.â€</p> + +<p>“Why, I have read it,†cried Alice. “You mean the book about Kashmir. +But I thought the author was an old man.â€</p> + +<p>“Lewie is not very old,†said his aunt; “but I haven’t seen him for +years, so he may be decrepit by this time. He is coming home soon, he +says, but he never writes. I know two of his friends who pay a Private +Inquiry Office to send them news of him.â€</p> + +<p>Alice laughed and became silent. What merry haphazard people were these +she had fallen among! At home everything was docketed and ordered. +Meals were immovable feasts, the hour for bed and the hour for rising +were more regular than the sun’s. Her father was full of proverbs on +the virtue of regularity, and was wont to attribute every vice and +misfortune to its absence. And yet here were men and women who got on +very well without it. She did not wholly like it. The little +doctrinaire in her revolted and she was pleased to be censorious.</p> + +<p>“You are a very learned young woman, aren’t you?†said Lady Manorwater, +after a short silence. “I have heard wonderful stories about your +learning. Then I hope you will talk to Mr. Stocks, for I am afraid he +is shocked at Bertha’s frivolity. He asked her if she was in favour of +the Prisons Regulation Bill, and she was very rude.â€</p> + +<p>“I only said,†broke in Miss Afflint, “that owing to my lack of definite +local knowledge I was not in a position to give an answer commensurate +with the gravity of the subject.†She spoke in a perfect imitation of +the tone of a pompous man.</p> + +<p>“Bertha, I do not approve of you,†said Lady Manorwater. “I forbid you +to mimic Mr. Stocks. He is very clever, and very much in earnest over +everything. I don’t wonder that a butterfly like you should laugh, but +I hope Miss Wishart will be kind to him.â€</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I am very ignorant,†said Alice hastily, “and I am very +useless. I never did any work of any sort in my life, and when I think +of you I am ashamed.â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear child, please don’t think me a paragon,†cried her hostess +in horror. “I am a creature of vague enthusiasms and I have the sense +to know it. Sometimes I fancy I am a woman of business, and then I take +up half a dozen things till Jack has to interfere to prevent financial +ruin. I dabble in politics and I dabble in philanthropy; I write review +articles which nobody reads, and I make speeches which are a horror to +myself and a misery to my hearers. Only by the possession of a sense of +humour am I saved from insignificance.â€</p> + +<p>To Alice the speech was the breaking of idols. Competence, +responsibility were words she had been taught to revere, and to hear +them light-heartedly disavowed seemed an upturning of the foundation of +things. You will perceive that her education had not included that +valuable art, the appreciation of the flippant.</p> + +<p>By this time the carriage was entering the gates of the park, and the +thick wood cleared and revealed long vistas of short hill grass, rising +and falling like moorland, and studded with solitary clumps of firs. +Then a turn in the drive brought them once more into shadow, this time +beneath a heath-clad knoll where beeches and hazels made a pleasant +tangle. All this was new, not three years old; but soon they were in +the ancient part of the policy which had surrounded the old house of +Glenavelin. Here the grass was lusher, the trees antique oaks and +beeches, and grey walls showed the boundary of an old pleasure-ground. +Here in the soft sunlit afternoon sleep hung like a cloud, and the peace +of centuries dwelt in the long avenues and golden pastures. Another +turning and the house came in sight, at first glance a jumble of grey +towers and ivied walls. Wings had been built to the original square +keep, and even now it was not large, a mere moorland dwelling. But the +whitewashed walls, the crow-step gables, and the quaint Scots baronial +turrets gave it a perfection to the eye like a house in a dream. To +Alice, accustomed to the vulgarity of suburban villas with Italian +campaniles, a florid lodge a stone’s throw from the house, darkened too +with smoke and tawdry with paint, this old-world dwelling was a patch of +wonderland. Her eyes drank in the beauty of the place—the great blue +backs of hill beyond, the acres of sweet pasture, the primeval woods.</p> + +<p>“Is this Glenavelin?†she cried. “Oh, what a place to live in!â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s very pretty, dear.†And Lady Manorwater, who possessed half a +dozen houses up and down the land, patted her guest’s arm and looked +with pleasure on the flushed girlish face.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two hours later, Alice, having completed dressing, leaned out of her +bedroom window to drink in the soft air of evening. She had not brought +a maid, and had refused her hostess’s offer to lend her her own on the +ground that maids were a superfluity. It was her desire to be a very +practical young person, a scorner of modes and trivialities, and yet she +had taken unusual care with her toilet this evening, and had spent many +minutes before the glass. Looking at herself carefully, a growing +conviction began to be confirmed—that she was really rather pretty. +She had reddish-brown hair and—a rare conjunction—dark eyes and +eyebrows and a delicate colour. As a small girl she had lamented +bitterly the fate that had not given her the orthodox beauty of the dark +or fair maiden, and in her school days she had passed for plain. Now it +began to dawn on her that she had beauty of a kind—the charm of +strangeness; and her slim strong figure had the grace which a wholesome +life alone can give. She was in high spirits, curious, interested, and +generous. The people amused her, the place was a fairyland and outside +the golden weather lay still and fragrant among the hills.</p> + +<p>When she came down to the drawing-room she found the whole party +assembled. A tall man with a brown beard and a slight stoop ceased to +assault the handle of a firescreen and came over to greet her. He had +only come back half an hour ago, he explained, and so had missed her +arrival. The face attracted and soothed her. Abundant kindness lurked +in the humorous brown eyes, and a queer pucker on the brow gave him the +air of a benevolent despot. If this was Lord Manorwater, she had no +further dread of the great ones of the earth. There were four other +men, two of them mild, spectacled people, who had the air of students +and a precise affected mode of talk, and one a boy cousin of whom no one +took the slightest notice. The fourth was a striking figure, a man of +about forty in appearance, tall and a little stout, with a rugged face +which in some way suggested a picture of a prehistoric animal in an old +natural history she had owned. The high cheek-bones, large nose, and +slightly protruding eyes had an unfinished air about them, as if their +owner had escaped prematurely from a mould. A quantity of bushy black +hair—which he wore longer than most men—enhanced the dramatic air of his +appearance. It was a face full of vigour and a kind of strength, +shrewd, a little coarse, and solemn almost to the farcical. He was +introduced in a rush of words by the hostess, but beyond the fact that +it was a monosyllable, Alice did not catch his name.</p> + +<p>Lord Manorwater took in Miss Afflint, and Alice fell to the dark man +with the monosyllabic name. He had a way of bowing over his hand which +slightly repelled the girl, who had no taste for elaborate manners. His +first question, too, displeased her. He asked her if she was one of the +Wisharts of some unpronounceable place.</p> + +<p>She replied briefly that she did not know. Her grandfathers on both +sides had been farmers.</p> + +<p>The gentleman bowed with the smiling unconcern of one to whom pedigree +is a matter of course.</p> + +<p>“I have heard often of your father,†he said. “He is one of the local +supports of the party to which I have the honour to belong. He +represents one great section of our retainers, our host another. I am +glad to see such friendship between the two.†And he smiled elaborately +from Alice to Lord Manorwater.</p> + +<p>Alice was uncomfortable. She felt she must be sitting beside some very +great man, and she was tortured by vain efforts to remember the +monosyllable which had stood for his name. She did not like his voice, +and, great man or not, she resented the obvious patronage. He spoke +with a touch of the drawl which is currently supposed to belong only to +the half-educated classes of England.</p> + +<p>She turned to the boy who sat on the other side of her. The young +gentleman—his name was Arthur and, apparently, nothing else—was only +too ready to talk. He proceeded to explain, compendiously, his doings of +the past week, to which the girl listened politely. Then anxiety got +the upper hand, and she asked in a whisper, <i>a propos</i> of nothing in +particular, the name of her left-hand neighbour.</p> + +<p>“They call him Stocks,†said the boy, delighted at the tone of +confidence, and was going on to sketch the character of the gentleman in +question when Alice cut him short.</p> + +<p>“Will you take me to fish some day?†she asked.</p> + +<p>“Any day,†gasped the hilarious Arthur. “I’m ready, and I’ll tell you +what, I know the very burn—†and he babbled on happily till he saw that +Miss Wishart had ceased to listen. It was the first time a pretty girl +had shown herself desirous of his company, and he was intoxicated with +the thought.</p> + +<p>But Alice felt that she was in some way bound to make the most of Mr. +Stocks, and she set herself heroically to the task. She had never heard +of him, but then she was not well versed in the minutiae of things +political, and he clearly was a politician. Doubtless to her father his +name was a household word. So she spoke to him of Glenavelin and its +beauties.</p> + +<p>He asked her if she had seen Royston Castle, the residence of his friend +the Duke of Sanctamund. When he had stayed there he had been much +impressed—</p> + +<p>Then she spoke wildly of anything, of books and pictures and +people and politics. She found him well-informed, clever, and dogmatic. +The culminating point was reached when she embarked on a stray remark +concerning certain events then happening in India.</p> + +<p>He contradicted her with a lofty politeness.</p> + +<p>She quoted a book on Kashmir.</p> + +<p>He laughed the authority to scorn. “Lewis Haystoun?†he asked. “What +can he know about such things? A wandering dilettante, the worst type +of the pseudo-culture of our universities. He must see all things +through the spectacles of his upbringing.â€</p> + +<p>Fortunately he spoke in a low voice, but Lord Manorwater caught the +name.</p> + +<p>“You are talking about Lewie,†he said; and then to the table at large, +“do you know that Lewie is home? I saw him to-day.â€</p> + +<p>Bertha Afflint clapped her hands. “Oh, splendid! When is he coming +over? I shall drive to Etterick to-morrow. No—bother! I can’t go +to-morrow, I shall go on Wednesday.â€</p> + +<p>Lady Manorwater opened mild eyes of surprise. “Why didn’t the boy +write?†And the young Arthur indulged in sundry exclamations, “Oh, +ripping, I say! What? A clinking good chap, my cousin Lewie!â€</p> + +<p>“Who is this Lewis the well-beloved?†said Mr. Stocks. “I was talking +about a very different person—Lewis Haystoun, the author of a foolish +book on Kashmir.â€</p> + +<p>“Don’t you like it?†said Lord Manorwater, pleasantly. “Well, it’s the +same man. He is my nephew, Lewie Haystoun. He lives at Etterick, four +miles up the glen. You will see him over here to-morrow or the day +after.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks coughed loudly to cover his discomfiture. Alice could not +repress a little smile of triumph, but she was forbearing and for the +rest of dinner exerted herself to appease her adversary, listening to +his talk with an air of deference which he found entrancing.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile it was plain that Lord Manorwater was not quite at ease with +his company. Usually a man of brusque and hearty address, he showed his +discomfort by an air of laborious politeness. He was patronized for a +brief minute by Mr. Stocks, who set him right on some matter of +agricultural reform. Happening to be a specialist on the subject and an +enthusiastic farmer from his earliest days, he took the rebuke with +proper meekness. The spectacled people were talking earnestly with his +wife. Arthur was absorbed in his dinner and furtive glances at his +left-hand neighbour. There remained Bertha Afflint, whom he had +hitherto admired with fear. To talk with her was exhausting to frail +mortality, and he had avoided the pleasure except in moments of +boisterous bodily and mental health. Now she was his one resource, and +the unfortunate man, rashly entering into a contest of wit, found +himself badly worsted by her ready tongue. He declared that she was +worse than her mother, at which the unabashed young woman replied that +the superiority of parents was the last retort of the vanquished. He +registered an inward vow that Miss Afflint should be used on the morrow +as a weapon to quell Mr. Stocks.</p> + +<p>When Alice escaped to the drawing-room she found Bertha and her sister—a +younger and ruddier copy—busy with the letters which had arrived by the +evening post. Lady Manorwater, who reserved her correspondence for the +late hours, seized upon the girl and carried her off to sit by the great +French windows from which lawn and park sloped down to the moorland +loch. She chattered pleasantly about many things, and then innocently +and abruptly asked her if she had not found her companion at table +amusing.</p> + +<p>Alice, unaccustomed to fiction, gave a hesitating “Yes,†at which her +hostess looked pleased. “He is very clever, you know,†she said, “and +has been very useful to me on many occasions.â€</p> + +<p>Alice asked his occupation.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he has done many things. He has been very brave and quite the +maker of his own fortunes. He educated himself, and then I think he +edited some Nonconformist paper. Then he went into politics, and became +a Churchman. Some old man took a liking to him and left him his money, +and that was the condition. So I believe he is pretty well off now and +is waiting for a seat. He has been nursing this constituency, and since +the election comes off in a month or two, we asked him down here to +stay. He has also written a lot of things and he is somebody’s private +secretary.†And Lady Manorwater relapsed into vagueness.</p> + +<p>The girl listened without special interest, save that she modified her +verdict on Mr. Stocks, and allowed, some degree of respect for him to +find place in her heart. The fighter in life always appealed to her, +whatever the result of his struggle.</p> + +<p>Then Lady Manorwater proceeded to hymn his excellences in an +indeterminate, artificial manner, till the men came into the room, and +conversation became general. Lord Manorwater made his way to Alice, +thereby defeating Mr. Stocks, who tended in the same direction. “Come +outside and see things, Miss Wishart,†he said. “It’s a shame to miss a +Glenavelin evening if it’s fine. We must appreciate our rarities.â€</p> + +<p>And Alice gladly followed him into the still air of dusk which made hill +and tree seem incredibly distant and the far waters of the lake merge +with the moorland in one shimmering golden haze. In the rhododendron +thickets sparse blooms still remained, and all along by the stream-side +stood stately lines of yellow iris above the white water-ranunculus. +The girl was sensitive to moods of season and weather, and she had +almost laughed at the incongruity of the two of them in modern clothes +in this fit setting for an old tale. Dickon of Glenavelin, the sworn +foe of the Lord of Etterick, on such nights as this had ridden up the +water with his bands to affront the quiet moonlight. And now his +descendant was pointing out dim shapes in the park which he said were +prize cattle.</p> + +<p>“Whew! what a weariness is civilization!†said the man, with comical +eyes. “We have been making talk with difficulty all the evening which +serves no purpose in the world. Upon my word, my kyloes have the best +of the bargain. And in a month or so there will be the election and I +shall have to go and rave—there is no other word for it, Miss +Wishart—rave on behalf of some fool or other, and talk Radicalism which +would make your friend Dickon turn in his grave, and be in earnest for +weeks when I know in the bottom of my heart that I am a humbug and care +for none of these things. How lightly politics and such matters sit on +us all!â€</p> + +<p>“But you know you are talking nonsense,†said the serious Alice. “After +all, these things are the most important, for they mean duty and courage +and—and—all that sort of thing.â€</p> + +<p>“Right, little woman,†said he, smiling; “that is what Stocks tells me +twice a day, but, somehow, reproof comes better from you. Dear me! +it’s a sad thing that a middle-aged legislator should be reproved by a +very little girl. Come and see the herons. The young birds will be +everywhere just now.â€</p> + +<p>For an hour in the moonlight they went a-sightseeing, and came back very +cool and fresh to the open drawing-room window. As they approached they +caught an echo of a loud, bland voice saying, “We must remember our +moral responsibilities, my dear Lady Manorwater. Now, for instance—â€</p> + +<p>And a strange thing happened. For the first time in her life Miss Alice +Wishart felt that the use of loud and solemn words could jar upon her +feelings. She set it down resignedly to the evil influence of her +companion.</p> + +<p>In the calm of her bedroom Alice reviewed her recent hours. She +admitted to herself that she would enjoy her visit. A healthy and +active young woman, the mere prospect of an open-air life gave her +pleasure. Also she liked the people. Mentally she epitomized each of +the inmates of the house. Lady Manorwater was all she had pictured +her—a dear, whimsical, untidy creature, with odd shreds of cleverness +and a heart of gold. She liked the boy Arthur, and the spectacled +people seemed harmless. Bertha she was prepared to adore, for behind +the languor and wit she saw a very kindly and capable young woman +fashioned after her own heart. But of all she liked Lord Manorwater +best. She knew that he had a great reputation, that he was said to be +incessantly laborious, and she had expected some one of her father’s +type, prim, angular, and elderly. Instead she found a boyish person +whom she could scold, and with women reproof is the first stone in the +foundation of friendship. On Mr. Stocks she generously reserved her +judgment, fearing the fate of the hasty.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /><br /> +<small>UPLAND WATERS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">W<small>HEN</small> Alice woke next morning the cool upland air was flooding through +the window, and a great dazzle of sunlight made the world glorious. She +dressed and ran out to the lawn, then past the loch right to the very +edge of the waste country. A high fragrance of heath and bog-myrtle was +in the wind, and the mouth grew cool as after long draughts of spring +water. Mists were crowding in the valleys, each bald mountain top shone +like a jewel, and far aloft in the heavens were the white streamers of +morn. Moorhens were plashing at the loch’s edge, and one tall heron +rose from his early meal. The world was astir with life: sounds of the +<i>plonk-plonk</i> of rising trout and the endless twitter of woodland birds +mingled with the far-away barking of dogs and the lowing of the +full-uddered cows in the distant meadows. Abashed and enchanted, the +girl listened. It was an elfin land where the old witch voices of hill +and river were not silenced. With the wind in her hair she climbed the +slope again to the garden ground, where she found a solemn-eyed collie +sniffing the fragrant wind in his morning stroll.</p> + +<p>Breakfast over, the forenoon hung heavy on her hands. It was Lady +Manorwater’s custom to let her guests sit idle in the morning and follow +their own desire, but in the afternoon she would plan subtle and +far-reaching schemes of enjoyment. It was a common saying that in her +large good-nature she amused people regardless of their own expense. +She would light-heartedly make town-bred folk walk twenty miles or bear +the toil of infinite drives. But this was after lunch; before, her +guests might do as they pleased. Lord Manorwater went off to see some +tenant; Arthur, after vain efforts to decoy Alice into a fishing +expedition, went down the stream in a canoe, because to his fool’s head +it seemed the riskiest means of passing the time at his disposal; Bertha +and her sister were writing letters; the spectacled people had settled +themselves below shady trees with voluminous papers and a pile of books. +Alice alone was idle. She made futile expeditions to the library, and +returned with an armful of volumes which she knew in her heart she would +never open. She found the deepest and most comfortable chair and placed +it in a shady place among beeches. But she could not stay there, and +must needs wander restlessly about the gardens, plucking flowers and +listlessly watching the gardeners at their work.</p> + +<p>Lunch-time found this young woman in a slightly irritable frame of mind. +The cause direct and indirect was Mr. Stocks, who had found her alone, +and had saddled her with his company for the space of an hour and a +half. His vein had been <i>badinage</i> of the serious and reproving kind, and +the girl had been bored to distraction. But a misspent hour is soon +forgotten, and the sight of her hostess’s cheery face would have +restored her to good humour had it not been for a thought which could +not be exorcised. She knew of Lady Manorwater’s reputation as an +inveterate matchmaker, and in some subtle way the suspicion came to her +that that goddess had marked herself as a quarry. She found herself +next Mr. Stocks at meals, she had already listened to his eulogy from +her hostess’s own lips, and to her unquiet fancy it seemed as if the +others stood back that they two might be together. Brought up in an +atmosphere of commerce, she was perfectly aware that she was a desirable +match for an embryo politician, and that sooner or later she would be +mistress of many thousands. The thought was a barbed vexation. To Mr. +Stocks she had been prepared to extend the tolerance of a happy +aloofness; now she found that she was driven to dislike him with all the +bitterness of unwelcome proximity.</p> + +<p>The result of such thoughts was that after lunch she disregarded her +hostess’s preparations and set out for a long hill walk. Like all +perfectly healthy people, much exercise was as welcome to her as food +and sleep; ten miles were refreshing; fifteen miles in an afternoon an +exaltation. She reached the moor beyond the policies, and, once past +this rushy wilderness, came to the Avelin-side and a single plank bridge +which she crossed lightly without a tremor. Then came the highway, and +then a long planting of firs, and last of all the dip of a rushing +stream pouring down from the hills in a lonely wooded hollow. The girl +loved to explore, and here was a field ripe for adventure.</p> + +<p>Soon she grew flushed with the toil and the excitement; climbing the bed +of the stream was no child’s play, for ugly corners had to be passed, +slippery rocks to be skirted, and many breakneck leaps to be effected. +Her spirits rose as the spray from little falls brushed her face and the +thick screen of the birches caught in her hair. When she reached a +vantage-rock and looked down on the chain of pools and rapids by which +she had come, a cry of delight broke from her lips. This was living, +this was the zest of life! The upland wind cooled her brow; she washed +her hands in a rocky pool and arranged her tangled tresses. What did +she care for Mr. Stocks or any man? He was far down on the lowlands +talking his pompous nonsense; she was on the hills with the sky above +her and the breeze of heaven around her, free, sovereign, the queen of +an airy land.</p> + +<p>With fresh wonder she scrambled on till the trees began to grow sparser +and an upland valley opened in view. Now the burn was quiet, running in +long shining shallows and falling over little rocks into deep brown +pools where the trout darted. On either side rose the gates of the +valley—two craggy knolls each with a few trees on its face. Beyond was +a green lawnlike place with a great confusion of blue mountains hemmed +around its head. Here, if anywhere, primeval peace had found its +dwelling, and Alice, her eyes bright with pleasure, sat on a green +knoll, too rapt with the sight for word or movement.</p> + +<p>Then very slowly, like an epicure lingering at a feast, she walked up +the banks of the burn, now high above a trough of rock, now down in a +green winding hollow. Suddenly she came on the spirits of the place in +the shape of two boys down on their faces groping among the stones of a +pool.</p> + +<p>One was very small and tattered, one about sixteen; both were barefoot +and both were wet and excited. “Tam, ye stot, ye’ve let the muckle yin +aff again,†groaned the smaller. “Oh, be canny, man! If we grip him +it’ll be the biggest trout that the laird will have in his basket.†The +elder boy, who was bearing the heat and burden of the work, could only +groan “Heather!†at intervals. It seemed to be his one exclamation.</p> + +<p>Now it happened that the two ragamuffins lifted their eyes and saw to +their amazement a girl walking on the bank above them, a girl who smiled +comrade-like on them and seemed in no way surprised. They propped +themselves on their elbows and stared. “Heather!†they ejaculated in +one breath. Then they, too, grinned broadly, for it was impossible to +resist so good-humoured an intruder. She held her head high and walked +like a queen, till a turn of the water hid her. “It’s a wumman,†gasped +the smaller boy. “And she’s terrible bonny,†commented the more +critical brother. Then the two fell again to the quest of the great +trout.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the girl pursued her way till she came to a fall where the +bank needed warier climbing. As she reached the top a little flushed +and panting, she became conscious that the upland valley was not without +inhabitants. For, not six paces off, stood a man’s figure, his back +turned towards her, and his mind apparently set on mending a piece of +tackle.</p> + +<p>She stood for a moment hesitating. How could she pass without being +seen? The man was blissfully unconscious of her presence, and as he +worked he whistled Schubert’s “Wohin,†and whistled it very badly. Then +he fell to apostrophizing his tackle, and then he grew irritable. +“Somebody come and keep this thing taut,†he cried. “Tam, Jock! where +on earth are you?â€</p> + +<p>The thing in question was lying at Alice’s feet in wavy coils.</p> + +<p>“Jock, you fool, where are you?†cried the man, but he never looked +round and went on biting and tying. Then an impulse took the girl and +she picked up the line. “That’s right,†cried the man, “pull it as +tight as you can,†and Alice tugged heroically at the waterproof silk. +She felt horribly nervous, and was conscious that she must look a very +flushed and untidy young barbarian. Many times she wanted to drop it +and run away, but the thought of the menaces against the absent Jock and +of her swift discovery deterred her. When he was done with her help he +might go on working and never look round. Then she would escape +unnoticed down the burn.</p> + +<p>But no such luck befell her. With a satisfied tug he pronounced the +thing finished and wheeled round to regard his associates. “Now, you +young wretches—†and the words froze on his lips, for in the place of +two tatterdemalion boys he saw a young girl holding his line limply and +smiling with much nervousness.</p> + +<p>“Oh,†he cried, and then became dumb and confused. He was shy and +unhappy with women, save the few whom he had known from childhood. The +girl was no better. She had blushed deeply, and was now minutely +scanning the stones in the burn. Then she raised her eyes, met his, and +the difficulty was solved by both falling into fits of deep laughter. +She was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>“I am so sorry I surprised you. I did not see you till I was close to +you, and then you were abusing somebody so terribly that to stop such +language I had to stop and help you. I saw Tam and Jock at a pool a +long way down, so they couldn’t hear you, you know.â€</p> + +<p>“And I’m very much obliged to you. You held it far better than Tam or +Jock would have done. But how did you get up here?â€</p> + +<p>“I climbed up the burn,†said Alice simply, putting up a hand to confine +a wandering tress. The young man saw a small, very simply dressed girl, +with a flushed face and bright, deep eyes. The small white hat crowned +a great tangle of wonderful reddish gold hair. She held herself with +the grace which is born of natural health and no modish training; the +strong hazel stick, the scratched shoes, and the wet fringes of her gown +showed how she had spent the afternoon. The young man, having received +an excellent education, thought of Dryads and Oreads.</p> + +<p>Alice for her part saw a strong, well-knit being, with a brown, +clean-shaven face, a straight nose, and a delicate, humorous mouth. He +had large grey eyes, very keen, quizzical, and kindly. His raiment was +disgraceful—an old knickerbocker suit with a ruinous Norfolk jacket, +patched at the elbows and with leather at wrist and shoulder. +Apparently he scorned the June sun, for he had no cap. His pockets +seemed bursting with tackle, and a discarded basket lay on the ground. +The whole figure pleased her, its rude health, simplicity, and disorder. +The atrocious men who sometimes came to her father’s house had been +miracles of neatness, and Mr. Stocks was wont to robe his person in the +most faultless of shooting suits.</p> + +<p>A fugitive memory began to haunt the girl. She had met or heard of this +man before. The valley was divided between Glenavelin and Etterick. He +was not the Doctor, and he was not the minister. Might not he be that +Lewie, the well-beloved, whose praises she had heard consistently sung +since her arrival? It pleased her to think that she had been the first +to meet the redoubtable young man.</p> + +<p>To them there entered the two boys, the younger dangling a fish. “It is +the big trout ye lost,†he cried. “We guddled ’um. We wad has gotten +’um afore, but a wumman frichted ’um.†Then turning unabashed to Alice, +he said in accusing tones, “That’s the wumman!â€</p> + +<p>The elder boy gently but firmly performed on his brother the operation +known as “scragging.†It was a subdued spirit which emerged from the +fraternal embrace.</p> + +<p>“Pit the fush in the basket, Tam,†said he, “and syne gang away wide up +the hill till I cry ye back.†The tones implied that his younger brother +was no fit company for two gentlemen and a lady.</p> + +<p>“I won’t spoil your fishing,†said Alice, fearing fratricidal strife. +“You are fishing up, so I had better go down the burn again.†And with a +dignified nod to the others she turned to go.</p> + +<p>Jock sprang forward with a bound and proceeded to stone the small Tam +up the hill. He coursed that young gentleman like a dog, bidding him +“come near,†or “gang wide,†or “lie down there,†to all of which the +culprit, taking the sport in proper spirit, gaily responded.</p> + +<p>“I think you had better not go down the burn,†said the man +reflectively. “You should keep the dry hillside. It is safer.â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am not afraid,†said the girl, laughing.</p> + +<p>“But then I might want to fish down, and the trout are very shy there,†+said he, lying generously.</p> + +<p>“Well, I won’t then, but please tell me where Glenavelin is, for the +stream-side is my only direction.â€</p> + +<p>“You are staying there?†he asked with a pleased face. “We shall meet +again, for I shall be over to-morrow. That fence on the hillside is +their march, and if you follow it you will come to the footbridge on the +Avelin. Many thanks for taking Jock’s place and helping me.â€</p> + +<p>He watched her for a second as she lightly jumped the burn and climbed +the peaty slope. Then he turned to his fishing, and when Alice looked +back from the vantage-ground of the hill shoulder she saw a figure +bending intently below a great pool. She was no coquette, but she could +not repress a tinge of irritation at so callous and self-absorbed a +young man. Another would have been profuse in thanks and would have +accompanied her to point out the road, or in some way or other would +have declared his appreciation of her presence. He might have told her +his name, and then there would have been a pleasant informal +introduction, and they could have talked freely. If he came to +Glenavelin to-morrow, she would have liked to appear as already an +acquaintance of so popular a guest.</p> + +<p>But such thoughts did not long hold their place. She was an honest +young woman, and she readily confessed that fluent manners and the air +of the <i>cavaliere servente</i> were things she did not love. Carelessness +suited well with a frayed jacket and the companionship of a hill burn +and two ragged boys. So, comforting her pride with proverbs, she +returned to Glenavelin to find the place deserted save for dogs, and in +their cheering presence read idly till dinner.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><br /> +<small>AFTERNOON IN A GARDEN</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> gardens of Glenavelin have an air of antiquity beyond the dwelling, +for there the modish fashions of another century have been followed with +enthusiasm. There are clipped yews and long arched avenues, bowers and +summer-houses of rustic make, and a terraced lawn fringed with a +Georgian parapet. A former lord had kept peacocks innumerable, and +something of the tradition still survived. Set in the heart of hilly +moorlands, it was like a cameo gem in a tartan plaid, a piece of old +Vauxhall or Ranelagh in an upland vale. Of an afternoon sleep reigned +supreme. The shapely immobile trees, the grey and crumbling stone, the +lone green walks vanishing into a bosky darkness were instinct with the +quiet of ages. It needed but Lady Prue with her flounces and furbelows +and Sir Pertinax with his cane and buckled shoon to re-create the +ancient world before good Queen Anne had gone to her rest.</p> + +<p>In one of the shadiest corners of a great lawn Lady Manorwater sat +making tea. Bertha, with a broad hat shading her eyes, dozed over a +magazine in a deck-chair. That morning she and Alice had broken the +convention of the house and gone riding in the haughlands till lunch. +Now she suffered the penalty and dozed, but her companion was very wide +awake, being a tireless creature who knew not lethargy. Besides, there +was sufficient in prospect to stir her curiosity. Lady Manorwater had +announced some twenty times that day that her nephew Lewis would come to +tea, and Alice, knowing the truth of the prophecy, was prepared to +receive him.</p> + +<p>The image of the forsaken angler remained clear in her memory, and she +confessed to herself that he interested her. The girl had no +connoisseur’s eye for character; her interest was the frank and +unabashed interest in a somewhat mysterious figure who was credited by +all his friends with great gifts and a surprising amiability. After +breakfast she had captured one of the spectacled people, whose name was +Hoddam. He was a little shy man, one of the unassuming tribe of +students by whom all the minor intellectual work of the world is done, +and done well. It is a great class, living in the main in red-brick +villas on the outskirts of academic towns, marrying mild blue-stockings, +working incessantly, and finally attaining to the fame of mention in +prefaces and foot-notes, and a short paragraph in the <i>Times</i> at the +last.... Mr. Hoddam did not seek the company of one who was young, +pretty, an heiress, and presumably flippant, but he was flattered when +she plainly sought him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lewis Haystoun is coming here this afternoon,†she had announced. +“Do you know him?â€</p> + +<p>“I have read his book,†said her victim.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but did you not know him at Oxford? You were there with him, were +you not?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, we were there together. I knew him by sight, of course, for he +was a very well-known person. But, you see, we belonged to very +different sets.â€</p> + +<p>“How do you mean?†asked the blunt Alice.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see,†began Mr. Hoddam awkwardly—absolute honesty was one +of his characteristics—“he was very well off, and he lived with a +sporting set, and he was very exclusive.â€</p> + +<p>“But I thought he was clever—I thought he was rather brilliant?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, he was! Indubitably! He got everything he wanted, but then he got +them easily and had a lot of time for other things, whereas most of us +had not a moment to spare. He got the best First of his year and the +St. Chad’s Fellowship, but I think he cared far more about winning the +‘Varsity Grind. Men who knew him said he was an extremely good fellow, +but he had scores of rich sporting friends, and nobody else ever got to +know him. I have heard him speak often, and his manner gave one the +impression that he was a tremendous swell, you know, and rather +conceited. People used to think him a sort of universal genius who +could do everything. I suppose he was quite the ablest man that had +been there for years, but I should think he would succeed ultimately as +the man of action and not as the scholar.â€</p> + +<p>“You give him a most unlovely character,†said the girl.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mean to. I own to being entirely fascinated by him. But he +was never, I think, really popular. He was supposed to be intolerant of +mediocrity; and also he used to offend quite honest, simple-minded +people by treating their beliefs very cavalierly. I used to compare him +with Raleigh or Henri IV.—the proud, confident man of action.â€</p> + +<p>Alice had pondered over Mr. Hoddam’s confessions and was prepared to +receive the visitor with coldness. The vigorous little democrat in her +hated arrogance. Before, if she had asked herself what type on earth +she hated most, she would have decided for the unscrupulous, proud man. +And yet this Lewis must be lovable. That brown face had infinite +attractiveness, and she trusted Lady Manorwater’s acuteness and goodness +of heart.</p> + +<p>Lord Manorwater had gone off on some matter of business and taken the +younger Miss Afflint with him. As Alice looked round the little +assembly on the lawn, she felt for the first time the insignificance of +the men. The large Mr. Stocks was not at his best in such +surroundings. He was the typical townsman, and bore with him wherever +he went an atmosphere of urban dust and worry. He hungered for +ostentation, he could only talk well when he felt that he impressed his +hearers; Bertha, who was not easily impressed, he shunned like a plague. +The man, reflected the censorious Alice, had no shades or half-tones in +his character; he was all bald, strong, and crude. Now he was talking +to his hostess with the grace of the wise man unbending.</p> + +<p>“I shall be pleased indeed to meet your nephew,†he said. “I feel sure +that we have many interests in common. Do you say he lives near?â€</p> + +<p>Lady Manorwater, ever garrulous on family matters, readily enlightened +him. “Etterick is his, and really all the land round here. We simply +live on a patch in the middle of it. The shooting is splendid, and +Lewie is a very keen sportsman. His mother was my husband’s sister, and +died when he was born. He is wonderfully unspoiled to have had such a +lonely boyhood.â€</p> + +<p>“How did the family get the land?†he asked. It was a matter which +interested him, for democratic politician though he was, he looked +always forward to the day when he should own a pleasant country +property, and forget the troubles of life in the Nirvana of the +respectable.</p> + +<p>“Oh, they’ve had it for ages. They are a very old family, you know, and +look down upon us as parvenus. They have been everything in their +day—soldiers, statesmen, lawyers; and when we were decent merchants in +Abbeykirk three centuries ago, they were busy making history. When you +go to Etterick you must see the pictures. There is a fine one by +Jameson of the Haystoun who fought with Montrose, and Raeburn painted +most of the Haystouns of his time. They were a very handsome race, at +least the men; the women were too florid and buxom for my taste.â€</p> + +<p>“And this Lewis—is he the only one of the family?â€</p> + +<p>“The very last, and of course he does his best to make away with himself +by risking his precious life in Hindu Kush or Tibet or somewhere.†Her +ladyship was geographically vague.</p> + +<p>“What a pity he does not realize his responsibilities!†said the +politician. “He might do so much.â€</p> + +<p>But at the moment it dawned upon the speaker that the shirker of +responsibilities was appearing in person. There strode towards them, +across the lawn, a young man and two dogs.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Aunt Egeria?†he cried, and he caught her small woman’s +hand in a hard brown one and smiled on the little lady.</p> + +<p>Bertha Afflint had flung her magazine to the winds and caught his +available left hand. “Oh, Lewie, you wretch! how glad we are to see +you again.†Meantime the dogs performed a solemn minuet around her +ladyship’s knees.</p> + +<p>The young man, when he had escaped from the embraces of his friends, +turned to the others. He seemed to recognize two of them, for he shook +hands cordially with the two spectacled people. “Hullo, Hoddam, how are +you? And Imrie! Who would have thought of finding you here?†And he +poured forth a string of kind questions till the two beamed with +pleasure.</p> + +<p>Then Alice heard dimly words of introduction: “Miss Wishart, Mr. +Haystoun,†and felt herself bowing automatically. She actually felt +nervous. The disreputable fisher of the day before was in ordinary +riding garments of fair respectability. He recognized her at once, but +he, too, seemed to lose for a moment his flow of greetings. His tone +insensibly changed to a conventional politeness, and he asked her some +of the stereotyped questions with which one greets a stranger. She felt +sharply that she was a stranger to whom the courteous young man assumed +more elaborate manners. The freedom of the day before seemed gone. She +consoled herself with the thought that whereas then she had been warm, +flushed, and untidy, she was now very cool and elegant in her prettiest +frock.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Stocks arose and explained that he was delighted to meet Mr. +Lewis Haystoun, that he knew of his reputation, and hoped to have some +pleasant talk on matters dear to the heart of both. At which Lewis +shunned the vacant seat between Bertha and that gentleman, and stretched +himself on the lawn beside Alice’s chair. A thrill of pleasure entered +the girl’s heart, to her own genuine surprise.</p> + +<p>“Are Tam and Jock at peace now?†she asked.</p> + +<p>“Tam and Jock are never at peace. Jock is sedate and grave and old for +his years, while Tam is simply a human collie. He has the same endearing +manners and irresponsible mind. I had to fish him out of several +rock-pools after you left.â€</p> + +<p>Alice laughed, and Lady Manorwater said in wonder, “I didn’t know you +had met Lewie before, Alice.â€</p> + +<p>“Miss Wishart and I forgathered accidentally at the Midburn yesterday,†+said the man.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you went there,†cried the aggrieved Arthur, “and you never told +me! Why, it is the best water about here, and yesterday was a +first-rate day. What did you catch, Lewie?â€</p> + +<p>“Twelve pounds—about four dozen trout.â€</p> + +<p>“Listen to that! And to think that that great hulking chap got all the +sport!†And the boy intercepted his cousin’s tea by way of retaliation.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Stocks had his innings, with Lady Manorwater for company, and +Lewis was put through a strict examination on his doings for the past +years.</p> + +<p>“What made you choose that outlandish place, my dear?†asked his aunt.</p> + +<p>“Oh, partly the chance of a shot at big game, partly a restless interest +in frontier politics which now and then seizes me. But really it was +Wratislaw’s choice.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you know Wratislaw?†asked Mr. Stocks abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Tommy?—why, surely! My best of friends. He had got his fellowship +some years before I went up, but I often saw him at Oxford, and he has +helped me innumerable times.†The young man spoke eagerly, prepared to +extend warm friendship to any acquaintance of his friend’s.</p> + +<p>“He and I have sometimes crossed swords,†said Mr. Stocks pompously.</p> + +<p>Lewis nodded, and forbore to ask which had come off the better.</p> + +<p>“He is, of course, very able,†said Mr. Stocks, making a generous +admission.</p> + +<p>His hearer wondered why he should be told of a man’s ability when he had +spoken of him as his friend.</p> + +<p>“Have you heard much of him lately?†he asked. “We corresponded +regularly when I was abroad, but of course he never would speak about +himself, and I only saw him for a short time last week in London.â€</p> + +<p>The gentleman addressed waved a deprecating hand.</p> + +<p>“He has had no popular recognition. Such merits as he has are too aloof +to touch the great popular heart. But we who believe in the people and +work for them have found him a bitter enemy. The idle, academic, +superior person, whatever his gifts, is a serious hindrance to honest +work,†said the popular idol.</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t call him idle or superior,†said Lewis quietly. “I have +seen hard workers, but I have never seen anything like Tommy. He is a +perfect mill-horse, wasting his fine talent on a dreary routine, merely +because he is conscientious and nobody can do it so well.â€</p> + +<p>He always respected honesty, so he forbore to be irritated with this +assured speaker.</p> + +<p>But Alice interfered to prevent jarring.</p> + +<p>“I read your book, Mr. Haystoun. What a time you must have had! You +say that north of Bardur or some place like that there are two hundred +miles of utterly unknown land till you come to Russian territory. I +should have thought that land important. Why doesn’t some one penetrate +it?</p> + +<p>“Well, for various causes. It is very high land and the climate is not +mild. Also, there are abundant savage tribes with a particularly +effective crooked kind of knife. And, finally, our Government +discourages British enterprise there, and Russia would do the same as +soon as she found out.â€</p> + +<p>“But what a chance for an adventurer!†said Alice, with a face aglow.</p> + +<p>Lewis looked up at the slim figure in the chair above him, and caught +the gleam of dark eyes.</p> + +<p>“Well, some day, Miss Wishart—who knows?†he said slowly and +carelessly.</p> + +<p>But three people looked at him, Bertha, his aunt, and Mr. Stocks, and +three people saw the same thing. His face had closed up like a steel +trap. It was no longer the kindly, humorous face of the sportsman and +good fellow, but the keen, resolute face of the fighter, the schemer, +the man of daring. The lines about his chin and brow seemed to tighten +and strengthen and steel, while the grey eyes had for a moment a glint +of fire.</p> + +<p>Three people never forgot that face. It was a pity that the lady at his +side was prevented from seeing it by her position, for otherwise life +might have gone differently with both. But the things which we call +chance are in the power of the Fateful Goddesses who reserve their right +to juggle with poor humanity.</p> + +<p>Alice only heard the words, but they pleased her. Mr. Stocks fell +farther into the background of disfavour. She had imagination and fire +as well as common sense. It was the purple and fine gold which first +caught her fancy, though on reflection she might decide for the +hodden-grey. So she was very gracious to the young adventurer. And +Arthur’s brows grew dark as Erebus.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Lewis rode home in the late afternoon to Etterick in a haze of golden +weather with an abstracted air and a slack bridle. A small, dainty +figure tripped through the mazes of his thoughts. This man, usually +oblivious of woman’s presence, now mooned like any schoolboy. Those +fresh young eyes and the glory of that hair! And to think that once he +had sworn by black!</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /><br /> +<small>A CONFERENCE OF THE POWERS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">I<small>T</small> was the sultriest of weather in London—days when the city lay in a +fog of heat, when the paving cracked, and the brow was damp from the +slightest movement and the mind of the stranger was tortured by the +thought of airy downs and running rivers. The leaves in the Green Park +were withered and dusty, the window-boxes in Mayfair had a tarnished +look, and horse and man moved with unwilling languor. A tall young man +in a grey frockcoat searched the street for shadow, and finding none +entered the doorway of a club which promised coolness.</p> + +<p>Mr. George Winterham removed his top-hat, had a good wash, and then +sought the smoking room. Seen to better advantage, he was sufficiently +good-looking, with an elegant if somewhat lanky frame, a cheerful +countenance, and a great brown moustache which gave him the air +military. But he was no soldier, being indeed that anomalous creature, +the titular barrister, who shows his profession by rarely entering the +chambers and by an ignorance of law more profound than Necessity’s.</p> + +<p>He found the shadiest corner of the smoking room and ordered the coolest +drink he could think of. Then he smiled, for he saw advancing to him +across the room another victim of the weather. This was a small, thin +man, with a finely-shaped dark head and the most perfectly-fitting +clothes. He had been deep in a review, but at the sight of the wearied +giant in the corner he had forgotten his interest in the “Entomology of +the Riviera.†He looked something of the artist or the man of letters, +but in truth he had no taint of Bohemianism about him, being a very +respectable person and a rising politician. His name was Arthur +Mordaunt, but because it was the fashion at the time for a certain class +of people to address each other in monosyllables, his friends invariably +knew him as “John.â€</p> + +<p>He dropped into a chair and regarded his companion with half-closed +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Well, John. Dished, eh? Most infernal heat I ever endured! I can’t +stand it, you know. I’ll have to go away.â€</p> + +<p>“Think,†said the other, “think that at this moment somewhere in the +country there are great, cool, deep woods and lakes and waterfalls, and +we might be sitting in flannels instead of being clothed in these +garments of sin.â€</p> + +<p>“Think,†said George, “of nothing of the kind. Think of high upland +glens and full brown rivers, and hillsides where there is always wind. +Why do I tantalize myself and talk to a vexatious idiot like you?â€</p> + +<p>This young man had a deep voice, a most emphatic manner of speech, and a +trick of cheerfully abusing his friends which they rather liked than +otherwise.</p> + +<p>“And why should I sit opposite six feet of foolishness which can give me +no comfort? Whew! But I think I am getting cool at last. I have sworn +to make use of my first half-hour of reasonable temperature and +consequent clearness of mind to plan flight from this place.â€</p> + +<p>“May I come with you, my pretty maid? I am hideously sick of July in +town. I know Mabel will never forgive me, but I must risk it.â€</p> + +<p>Mabel was the young man’s sister, and the friendship between the two was +a perpetual joke. As a small girl she had been wont to con eagerly her +brother’s cricketing achievements, for George had been a famous +cricketer, and annually went crazy with excitement at the Eton and +Harrow match. She exercised a maternal care over him, and he stood in +wholesome fear of her and ordered his doings more or less at her +judgment. Now she was married, but she still supervised her tall +brother, and the victim made no secret of the yoke.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Arthur jumped to his feet. “I say, what about Lewis Haystoun? +He is home now, somewhere in Scotland. Have you heard a word about +him?â€</p> + +<p>“He has never written,†groaned George, but he took out a pocket-book +and shook therefrom certain newspaper cuttings. “The people I employ +sent me these about him to-day.†And he laid them out on his knee.</p> + +<p>The first of them was long, and consisted of a belated review of Mr. +Haystoun’s book. George, who never read such things, handed it to +Arthur, who glanced over the lines and returned it. The second +explained in correct journalese that the Manorwater family had returned +to Glenavelin for the summer and autumn, and that Mr. Lewis Haystoun +was expected at Etterick shortly. The third recorded the opening of a +bazaar in the town of Gledsmuir which Mr. Haystoun had patronised, +“looking,†said the fatuous cutting, “very brown and distinguished after +his experiences in the East.‗“Whew!†said George. “Poor beggar, to +have such stuff written about him!‗The fourth discussed the possible +retirement of Sir Robert Merkland, the member for Gledsmuir, and his +possible successor. Mr. Haystoun’s name was mentioned, “though +indeed,†said the wiseacre, “that gentleman has never shown any decided +leanings to practical politics. We understand that the seat will be +contested in the Radical interest by Mr. Albert Stocks, the well-known +writer and lecturer.â€</p> + +<p>“You know everybody, John. Who’s the fellow?†George asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, a very able man indeed, one of the best speakers we have. I should +like to see a fight between him and Lewie: they would not get on with +each other. This Stocks is a sort of living embodiment of the irritable +Radical conscience, a very good thing in its way, but not quite in +Lewie’s style.â€</p> + +<p>The fifth cutting mentioned the presence of Mr. Haystoun at three +garden-parties, and hinted the possibility of a mistress soon to be at +Etterick.</p> + +<p>George lay back in his chair gasping. “I never thought it would come to +this. I always thought Lewie the least impressionable of men. I wonder +what sort of woman he has fallen in love with. But it may not be true.â€</p> + +<p>“We’ll pray that it isn’t true. But I was never quite sure of him. You +know there was always an odd romantic strain in the man. The ordinary +smart, pretty girl, who adorns the end of a dinner-table and makes an +admirable mistress of a house, he would never think twice about. But +for all his sanity Lewie has many cranks, and a woman might get him on +that side.â€</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk of it. I can picture the horrid reality. He will marry +some thin-lipped creature who will back him in all his madness, and his +friends will have to bid him a reluctant farewell. Or, worse still, +there are scores of gushing, sentimental girls who might capture him. I +wish old Wratislaw were here to ask him what he thinks, for he knows +Lewie better than any of us. Is he a member here?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, he is a member, but I don’t think he comes much. You people +are too frivolous for him.â€</p> + +<p>“Well, that is all the good done by subscribing to a news-cutting agency +for news of one’s friends. I feel as low as ditch water. There is that +idiot who goes off to the ends of the earth for three years, and when he +comes back his friends get no good of him for the confounded women.†+George echoed the ancient complaint which is doubtless old as David and +Jonathan.</p> + +<p>Then these two desolated young men, in view of their friend’s defection, +were full of sad memories, much as relations after a funeral hymn the +acts of the deceased.</p> + +<p>George lit a cigar and smoked it savagely. “So that is the end of +Lewis! And to think I knew the fool at school and college and couldn’t +make a better job of him than this! Do you remember, John, how we used +to call him ‘Vaulting Ambition,’ because he won the high jump and was a +cocky beggar in general?â€</p> + +<p>“And do you remember when he got his First, and they wanted him to stand +for a fellowship, but he was keen to get out of England and travel? Do +you remember that last night at Heston, when he told us all he was going +to do, and took a bet with Wratislaw about it?â€</p> + +<p>It is probable that this sad elegy would have continued for hours, had +not a servant approached with letters, which he distributed, two to +Arthur Mordaunt and one to Mr. Winterham. A close observer might have +seen that two of the envelopes were identical. Arthur slipped one into +his pocket, but tore open the other and read.</p> + +<p>“It’s from Lewie,†he cried. “He wants me down there next week at +Etterick. He says he is all alone and crazy to see old friends again.â€</p> + +<p>“Mine’s the same!†said George, after puzzling out Mr. Haystoun’s by no +means legible writing. “I say, John, of course we’ll go. It’s the very +chance we were wishing for.â€</p> + +<p>Then he added with a cheerful face, “I begin to think better of human +nature. Here were we abusing the poor man as a defaulter, and ten +minutes after he heaps coals of fire on our heads. There can’t be much +truth in what that newspaper says, or he wouldn’t want his friends down +to spoil sport.â€</p> + +<p>“I wonder what he’ll be like? Wratislaw saw him in town, but only for a +little, and he notices nothing. He’s rather famous now, you know, and +we may expect to find him very dignified and wise. He’ll be able to +teach us most things, and we’ll have to listen with proper humility.â€</p> + +<p>“I’ll give you fifty to one he’s nothing of the kind,†said George. “He +has his faults like us all, but they don’t run in that line. No, no, +Lewie will be modest enough. He may have the pride of Lucifer at heart, +but he would never show it. His fault is just this infernal modesty, +which makes him shirk fighting some blatant ass or publishing his merits +to the world.â€</p> + +<p>Arthur looked curiously at his companion. Mr. Winterham was loved of +his friends as the best of good fellows, but to the staid and rising +politician he was not a person for serious talk. Hence, when he found +him saying very plainly what had for long been a suspicion of his own, +he was willing to credit him with a new acuteness.</p> + +<p>“You know I’ve always backed Lewie to romp home some day,†went on the +young man. “He has got it in him to do most things, if he doesn’t jib +and bolt altogether.â€</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why you should talk of your friends as if they were +racehorses or prize dogs.â€</p> + +<p>“Well, there’s a lot of truth in the metaphor. You know yourself what a +mess of it he might make. Say some good woman got hold of him—some +good woman, for we will put aside the horrible suggestion of the +adventuress. I suppose he’d be what you call a ‘good husband.’ He would +become a magistrate and a patron of local agricultural societies and +flower shows. And eveybody would talk about him as a great success in +life; but we—you and I and Tommy—who know him better, would feel that +it was all a ghastly failure.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Lewis Haystoun’s character erred in its simplicity, for it was at +the mercy of every friend for comment.</p> + +<p>“What makes you dread the women so?†asked Arthur with a smile.</p> + +<p>“I don’t dread ’em. They are all that’s good, and a great deal better +than most men. But then, you know, if you get a man really first-class +he’s so much better than all but the very best women that you’ve got to +look after him. To ordinary beggars like myself it doesn’t matter a +straw, but I won’t have Lewie throwing himself away.â€</p> + +<p>“Then is the ancient race of the Haystouns to disappear from the earth?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, there are women fit for him, sure enough, but you won’t find them +at every garden party. Why, to find the proper woman would be the +making of the man, and I should never have another doubt about him. But +I am afraid. He’s a deal too kindly and good-natured, and he’d marry a +girl to-morrow merely to please her. And then some day quite casually +he would come across the woman who was meant by Providence for him, and +there would be the devil to pay and the ruin of one good man. I don’t +mean that he’d make a fool of himself or anything of that sort, for he’s +not a cad; but in the middle of his pleasant domesticity he would get a +glimpse of what he might have been, and those glimpses are not +forgotten.â€</p> + +<p>“Why, George, you are getting dithyrambic,†said Arthur, still smiling, +but with a new vague respect in his heart.</p> + +<p>“For you cannot harness the wind or tie—tie the bonds of the wild ass,†+said George, with an air of quotation. “At any rate, we’re going to +look after him. He is a good chap and I’ve got to see him through.â€</p> + +<p>For Mr. Winterham, who was very much like other men, whose language was +free, and who respected few things indeed in the world, had unfailing +tenderness for two beings—his sister and his friend.</p> + +<p>The two young men rose, yawned, and strolled out into the hall. They +scanned carelessly the telegram boards. Arthur pointed a finger to a +message typed in a corner.</p> + +<p>“That will make a good deal of difference to Wratislaw.â€</p> + +<p>George read: “The death is announced, at his residence in Hampshire, of +Earl Beauregard. His lordship had reached the age of eighty-five, and +had been long in weak health. He is succeeded by his son the Right Hon. +Lord Malham, the present Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.â€</p> + +<p>“It means that if Wratislaw’s party get back with a majority after +August, and if Wratislaw gets the under-secretaryship as most people +expect, then, with his chief in the Lords, he will be rather an +important figure in the Commons.â€</p> + +<p>“And I suppose his work will be pretty lively,†said George. He had +been reading some of the other telegrams, which were, as a rule, +hysterical messages by way of foreign capitals, telling of Russian +preparations in the East.</p> + +<p>“Oh, lively, yes. But I’ve confidence in Tommy. I wish the Fate which +decides men’s politics had sent him to our side. He knows more about +the thing than any one else, and he knows his own mind, which is rare +enough. But it’s too hot for serious talk. I suppose my seat is safe +enough in August, but I don’t relish the prospect of a three weeks’ +fight. Wratislaw, lucky man, will not be opposed. I suppose he’ll come +up and help Lewis to make hay of Stock’s chances. It’s a confounded +shame. I shall go and talk for him.â€</p> + +<p>On the steps of the club both men halted, and looked up and down the +sultry white street. The bills of the evening papers were plastered in +a row on the pavement, and the glaring pink and green still further +increased the dazzle. After the cool darkness within each shaded his +eyes and blinked.</p> + +<p>“This settles it,†said George. “I shall wire to Lewie to-night.â€</p> + +<p>“And I,†said the other; “and to-morrow evening we’ll be in that cool +green Paradise of a glen. Think of it! Meantime I shall grill through +another evening in the House, and pair.â€</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><br /> +<small>PASTORAL</small></h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p class="nind">A J<small>ULY</small> morning had dawned over the Dreichill, and the glen was filled +with sunlight, though as yet there seemed no sun. Behind a peak of hill +it displayed its chastened morning splendours, but a stray affluence of +brightness had sought the nooks of valley in all the wide uplands, +courier of the great lord of heat and light and the brown summer. The +house of Etterick stands high in a crinkle of hill, with a background of +dark pines, and in front a lake, set in shores of rock and heather. +When the world grew bright Lewis awoke, for that strange young man had a +trick of rising early, and as he rubbed sleep from his eyes at the +window he saw the exceeding goodliness of the morning. He roused his +companions with awful threats, and then wandered along a corridor till +he came to a low verandah, whence a little pier ran into a sheltered bay +of the loch. This was his morning bathing-place, and as he ran down the +surface of rough moorland stone he heard steps behind him, and George +plunged into the cold blue waters scarcely a second after his host.</p> + +<p>It was as chill as winter save for the brightness of the morning, which +made the loch in open spaces a shining gold. As they raced each other +to the far end, now in the dark blue of shade, now in the gold of the +open, the hill breeze fanned their hair, and the great woody smell of +pines was sweet around them. The house stood dark and silent, for the +side before them was the men’s quarters, and at that season given up to +themselves; but away beyond, the smoke of chimneys curled into the still +air. A man was mowing in some field on the hillside, and the cry of +sheep came from the valley. By and by they reached the shelving coast +of fine hill gravel, and as they turned to swim easily back a sleepy +figure staggered down the pier and stumbled rather than plunged into the +water.</p> + +<p>“Hullo!†gasped George, “there’s old John. He’ll drown, for I bet you +anything he isn’t awake. Look!â€</p> + +<p>But in a second a dark head appeared which shook itself vigorously, and +a figure made for the other two with great strokes. He was by so much +the best swimmer of the three that he had soon reached them, and though +in all honesty he first swam to the farther shore, yet he touched the +pier very little behind them. Then came a rush for the house, and in +half an hour three fresh-coloured young men came downstairs, whistling +for breakfast.</p> + +<p>The breakfast-room was a place to refresh a townsman’s senses. Long and +cool and dark, it was simply Lewis’s room, and he preferred to entertain +his friends there instead of wandering among unused dining-rooms. It +had windows at each end with old-fashioned folding sashes; and the view +on one side was to a great hill shoulder, fir-clad and deep in heather, +and on the other to the glen below and the shining links of the Avelin. +It was panelled in dark oak, and the furniture was a strange medley. +The deep arm-chairs by the fire and the many pipes savoured of the +smoking-room; the guns, rods, polo sticks, whips, which were stacked or +hung everywhere, and the heads of deer on the walls, gave it an +atmosphere of sport. The pictures were few but good—two water-colours, +a small Raeburn above the fireplace, and half a dozen fine etchings. In +a corner were many old school and college groups—the Eton Ramblers, the +O.U.A.C., some dining clubs, and one of Lewis on horseback in racing +costume, looking deeply miserable. Low bookcases of black oak ran round +the walls, and the shelves were crammed with books piled on one another, +many in white vellum bindings, which showed pleasantly against the dark +wood. Flowers were everywhere—common garden flowers of old-fashioned +kinds, for the owner hated exotics, and in a shallow silver bowl in the +midst of the snowy table-cloth was a great mass of purple heather-bells.</p> + +<p>Three very hungry young men sat down to their morning meal with a hearty +goodwill. The host began to rummage among his correspondence, and +finally extracted an unstamped note, which he opened. His face +brightened as he read, and he laid it down with a broad smile and helped +himself to fish.</p> + +<p>“Are you people very particular what you do to-day?†he asked.</p> + +<p>Arthur said, No. George explained that he was in the hands of his +beneficent friend.</p> + +<p>“Because my Aunt Egeria down at Glenavelin has got up some sort of a +picnic on the moors, and she wants us to meet her at the sheepfolds +about twelve.â€</p> + +<p>“Oh,†said George meditatively. “Excellent! I shall be charmed.†But +he looked significantly at Arthur, who returned the glance.</p> + +<p>“Who are at Glenavelin?†asked that simple young man with an air of +innocence.</p> + +<p>“There’s a man called Stocks, whom you probably know.â€</p> + +<p>Arthur nodded.</p> + +<p>“And there’s Bertha Afflint and her sister.â€</p> + +<p>It was George’s turn to nod approvingly. The sharp-witted Miss Afflint +was a great ally of his.</p> + +<p>“And there’s a Miss Wishart—Alice Wishart,†said Lewis, without a word +of comment. “And with my Aunt Egeria that will be all.â€</p> + +<p>The pair got the cue, and resolved to subject the Miss Wishart whose +name came last on their host’s tongue to a friendly criticism. +Meanwhile they held their peace on the matter like wise men.</p> + +<p>“What a strange name Egeria is!†said Arthur. “Very,†said Lewis; “but +you know the story. My respectable aunt’s father had a large family of +girls, and being of a classical turn of mind he called them after the +Muses. The Muses held out for nine, but for the tenth and youngest he +found himself in a difficulty. So he tried another tack and called the +child after the nymph Egeria. It sounds outlandish, but I prefer it to +Terpsichore.â€</p> + +<p>Thereafter they lit pipes, and, with the gravity which is due to a great +subject, inspected their friend’s rods and guns.</p> + +<p>“I see no memorials of your travels, Lewie,†said Arthur. “You must +have brought back no end of things, and most people like to stick them +round as a remembrance.â€</p> + +<p>“I have got a roomful if you want to see them,†said the traveller; “but +I don’t see the point of spoiling a moorland place with foreign odds and +ends. I like homely and native things about me when I am in Scotland.â€</p> + +<p>“You’re a sentimentalist, old man,†said his friend; and George, who +heard only the last word, assumed that Arthur had then and there +divulged his suspicions, and favoured that gentleman with a wild frown +of disapproval.</p> + +<p>As Lewis sat on the edge of the Etterick burn and looked over the +shining spaces of morning, forgetful of his friends, forgetful of his +past, his mind was full of a new turmoil of feeling. Alice Wishart had +begun to claim a surprising portion of his thoughts. He told himself a +thousand times that he was not in love—that he should never be in love, +being destined for other things; that he liked the girl as he liked any +fresh young creature in the morning of life, with youth’s beauty and the +grace of innocence. But insensibly his everyday reflections began to be +coloured by her presence. “What would she think of this?†“How that +would please her!†were sentences spoken often by the tongue of his +fancy. He found charm in her presence after his bachelor solitude; her +demure gravity pleased him; but that he should be led bond-slave by +love—that was a matter he valiantly denied.</p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> sheepfolds of Etterick lie in a little fold of glen some two miles +from the dwelling, where the heathy tableland, known all over the glen +as “The Muirs,†relieves the monotony of precipitous hills. On this day +it was alert with life. The little paddock was crammed with sheep, and +more stood huddling in the pens. Within was the liveliest scene, for +there a dozen herds sat on clipping-stools each with a struggling ewe +between his knees, and the ground beneath him strewn with creamy folds +of fleece. From a thing like a gallows in a corner huge bags were +suspended which were slowly filling. A cauldron of pitch bubbled over a +fire, and the smoke rose blue in the hot hill air. Every minute a +bashful animal was led to be branded with a great E on the left shoulder +and then with awkward stumbling let loose to join her naked +fellow-sufferers. Dogs slept in the sun and wagged their tails in the +rear of the paddock. Small children sat on gates and lent willing feet +to drive the flocks. In a corner below a little shed was the clippers’ +meal of ale and pies, with two glasses of whisky each, laid by under a +white cloth. Meantime from all sides rose the continual crying of +sheep, the intermittent bark of dogs, and the loud broad converse of the +men.</p> + +<p>Lewis and his friends jumped a fence, and were greeted heartily in the +enclosure. He seemed to know each herd by name or rather nickname, for +he had a word for all, and they with all freedom grinned <i>badinage</i> back.</p> + +<p>“Where’s my stool, Yed?†he cried. “Am I not to have a hand in clipping +my own sheep?â€</p> + +<p>An obedient shepherd rose and fetched one of the triangular seats, while +Lewis with great ease caught the ewe, pulled her on her back, and +proceeded to call for shears. An old pair was found for him, and with +much dexterity he performed the clipping, taking little longer to the +business than the expert herd, and giving the shears a professional wipe +on the sacking with which he had prudently defended his clothes.</p> + +<p>From somewhere in the back two boys came forward—the Tam and Jock of a +former day—eager to claim acquaintance. Jock was clearly busy, for his +jacket was off and a very ragged shirt was rolled about two stout brown +arms. The “human collie†seemed to be a gentleman of some leisure, for +he was arrayed in what was for him the pink of fashion in dress. The +two immediately lay down on the ground beside Lewis exactly in the +manner of faithful dogs.</p> + +<p>The men talked cheerfully, mainly on sheep and prices. Now talk would +touch on neighbours, and there would be the repetition of some tale or +saying. “There was a man in the glen called Rorison. D’ye mind Jock +Rorison, Sandy?†And Sandy would reply, “Fine I mind Jock,†and then +both would proceed to confidences.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Tam,†said Lewis at last, realizing his henchman’s grandeur. “Why +this magnificence of dress?</p> + +<p>“I’m gaun to the Sabbath-school treat this afternoon,†said that worthy.</p> + +<p>“And you, Jock-are you going too?â€</p> + +<p>“No me! I’m ower auld, and besides, I’ve cast out wi’ the minister.â€</p> + +<p>“How was that?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, I had been fechtin’,†said Jock airily. “It was Andra Laidlaw. He +called me ill names, so I yokit on him and bate him too, but I got my +face gey sair bashed. The minister met me next day when I was a’ blue +and yellow, and, says he, ‘John Laverlaw, what have ye been daein’? +Ye’re a bonny sicht for Christian een. How do ye think a face like +yours will look between a pair o’ wings in the next warld?’ I ken I’m no +bonny,†added the explanatory Jock; “but ye canna expect a man to thole +siccan language as that.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis laughed and, being engaged in clipping his third sheep, forgot the +delicacy of his task and let the shears slip. A very ugly little cut on +the animal’s neck was the result.</p> + +<p>“Oh, confound it!†cried the penitent amateur. “Look what I’ve done, +Yed. I’ll have to rub in some of that stuff of yours and sew on a +bandage. The files will kill the poor thing if we leave the cut bare in +this infernal heat.â€</p> + +<p>The old shepherd nodded, and pointed to where the remedies were kept. +Jock went for the box, which contained, besides the ointment, some rolls +of stout linen and a huge needle and twine. Lewis doctored the wound as +best he could, and then proceeded to lay on the cloth and sew it to the +fleece. The ewe grew restless with the heat and the pinching of the +cut, and Jock was given the task of holding her head.</p> + +<p>Clearly Lewis was not meant by Providence for a tailor. He made +lamentable work with the needle. It slipped and pricked his fingers, +while his unfeeling friends jeered and Tam turned great eyes of sympathy +upwards from his Sunday garments.</p> + +<p>“Patience, patience, man!†said the old herd. “Ca’ cannier and be a wee +thing quieter in your langwidge. There’s a wheen leddies comin’ up the +burn.â€</p> + +<p>It was too late. Before Lewis understood the purport of the speech Lady +Manorwater and her party were at the folds, and as he made one final +effort with the refractory needle a voice in his ear said:</p> + +<p>“Please let me do that, Mr. Haystoun. I’ve often done it before.â€</p> + +<p>He looked up and met Alice Wishart’s laughing eyes. She stood beside +him and deftly finished the bandage till the ewe was turned off the +stool. Then, very warm and red, he turned to find a cool figure +laughing at his condition.</p> + +<p>“I’ll have to go and wash my hands, Miss Wishart,†he said gravely. +“You had better come too.†And the pair ran down to a deep brown pool in +the burn and cleansed from their fingers the subtle aroma of fleeces.</p> + +<p>“Ugh! my clothes smell like a drover’s. That’s the worst of being a +dabbler in most trades. You can never resist the temptation to try your +hand.â€</p> + +<p>“But, really, your whole manner was most professional, Mr. Haystoun. +Your language—â€</p> + +<p>“Please, don’t,†said the penitent; and they returned to the others to +find that once cheerful assembly under a cloud. Every several man there +was nervously afraid of women and worked feverishly as if under some +great Taskmistress’s eye. The result was a superfluity of shear-marks +and deep, muffled profanity. Lady Manorwater ran here and there asking +questions and confusing the workers; while Mr. Stocks, in pursuance of +his democratic sentiments, talked in a stilted fashion to the nearest +clipper, who called him “Sir†and seemed vastly ill at ease.</p> + +<p>Lewis restored some cordiality. Under her nephew’s influence Lady +Manorwater became natural and pleasing. Jock was ferreted out of some +corner and, together with the reluctant Tam, brought up for +presentation.</p> + +<p>“Tam,†said his patron, “I’ll give you your choice. Whether will you go +to the Sabbath-school treat, or come with us to a real picnic? Jock is +coming, and I promise you better fun and better things to eat.â€</p> + +<p>It was no case for hesitation. Tam executed a doglike gambol on the +turf, and proceeded to course up the burn ahead of the party, a vision +of twinkling bare legs and ill-fitting Sunday clothes. The sedate Jock +rolled down his sleeves, rescued a ragged jacket, and stalked in the +rear.</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p class="nind">O<small>NCE</small> on the heathy plateau the party scattered. Mr. Stocks caught the +unwilling Arthur and treated him to a disquisition on the +characteristics of the people whose votes he was soon to solicit. As +his acquaintance with the subject was not phenomenal, the profit to the +aggrieved listener was small. George, Lady Manorwater, and the two Miss +Afflints sought diligently for a camping-ground, which they finally +found by a clear spring of water on the skirts of a great grey rock. +Meanwhile, Alice Wishart and Lewis, having an inordinate love of high +places, set out for the ridge summit, and reached it to find a wind +blowing from the far Gled valley and cooling the hot air.</p> + +<p>Alice found a scrap of rock and climbed to the summit, where she sat +like a small pixie, surveying a wide landscape and her warm and +prostrate companion. Her bright hair and eyes and her entrancing grace +of form made the callous Lewis steal many glances upwards from his lowly +seat. The two had become excellent friends, for the man had that honest +simplicity towards women which is the worst basis for love and the best +for friendship. She felt that at any moment he might call her by some +one or other of the endearing expressions used between men. He, for his +part, was fast drifting from friendship to another feeling, but as yet +he gave no sign of it, and kept up the brusque, kindly manners of his +common life.</p> + +<p>As she looked east and north to the heart of the hill-land, her eyes +brightened, and she rose up and strained on tiptoe to scan the farthest +horizon. Eagerly she asked the name of this giant and that, of this +glint of water—was it loch or burn? Lewis answered without hesitation, +as one to whom the country was as well known as his own name.</p> + +<p>By and by her curiosity was satisfied and she slipped back into her old +posture, and with chin on hand gazed into the remote distances. “And +most of that is yours? Do you know, if I had a land like this I should +never leave it again. You, in your ingratitude, will go wandering away +in a year or two, as if any place on earth could be better than this. +You are simply ‘sinning away your mercies,’ as my grandfather used to +say.â€</p> + +<p>“But what would become of the heroic virtues that you adore?†asked the +cynical Lewis. “If men were all home-keepers it would be a prosaic +world.â€</p> + +<p>“Can you talk of the prosaic and Etterick in the same breath? Besides, +it is the old fallacy of man that the domestic excludes the heroic,†+said Alice, fighting for the privileges of her sex.</p> + +<p>“But then, you know, there comes a thing they call the go-fever, which +is not amenable to reason. People who have it badly do not care a straw +for a place in itself; all they want is to be eternally moving from one +spot to another.â€</p> + +<p>“And you?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am not a sufferer yet, but I walk in fear, for at any moment it +may beset me.†And, laughing, he climbed up beside her.</p> + +<p>It may be true that the last subject of which a man tires is himself, +but Lewis Haystoun in this matter must have been distinct from the +common run of men. Alice had given him excellent opportunities for +egotism, but the blind young man had not taken them. The girl, having +been brought up to a very simple and natural conception of talk, thought +no more about it, except that she would have liked so great a traveller +to speak more generously. No doubt, after all, this reticence was +preferable to self-revelation. Mr. Stocks had been her companion that +morning in the drive to Etterick, and he had entertained her with a +sketch of his future. He had declined, somewhat nervously, to talk of +his early life, though the girl, with her innate love of a fighter, +would have listened with pleasure. But he had sketched his political +creed, hinted at the puissance of his friends, claimed a monopoly of the +purer sentiments of life, and rosily augured the future. The girl had +been silent—the man had thought her deeply impressed; but now the +morning’s talk seemed to point a contrast, and Mr. Lewis Haystoun +climbed to a higher niche in the temple of her esteem.</p> + +<p>Afar off the others were signaling that lunch was ready, but the two on +the rock were blind.</p> + +<p>“I think you are right to go away,†said Alice. “You would be too well +off here. One would become a very idle sort of being almost at once.â€</p> + +<p>“And I am glad you agree with me, Miss Wishart. ‘Here is the shore, and +the far wide world’s before me,’ as the song says. There is little +doing in these uplands, but there’s a vast deal astir up and down the +earth, and it would be a pity not to have a hand in it.â€</p> + +<p>Then he stopped suddenly, for at that moment the light and colour went +out of his picture of the wanderer’s life, and he saw instead a homelier +scene—a dainty figure moving about the house, sitting at his table’s +head, growing old with him in the fellowship of years. For a moment he +felt the charm of the red hearth and the quiet life. Some such sketch +must the Goddess of Home have drawn for Ulysses or the wandering Olaf, +and if Swanhild or the true Penelope were as pretty as this lady of the +rock there was credit in the renunciation. The man forgot the wide +world and thought only of the pin-point of Glenavelin.</p> + +<p>Some such fancy too may have crossed the girl’s mind. At any rate she +cast one glance at the abstracted Lewis and welcomed a courier from the +rest of the party. This was no other than the dandified Tam, who had +been sent post-haste by George—that true friend having suffered the +agonies of starvation and a terrible suspicion as to what rash step his +host might be taking. Plainly the young man had not yet made Miss +Wishart’s acquaintance.</p> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> sun set in the thick of the dark hills, and a tired and merry party +scrambled down the burnside to the highway. They had long outstayed +their intention, but care sat lightly there, and Lady Manorwater alone +was vexed by thoughts of a dinner untouched and a respectable household +in confusion. The sweet-scented dusk was soothing to the senses, and +there in the narrow glen, with the wide blue strath and the gleam of the +river below, it was hard to find the link of reality and easy to credit +fairyland. Arthur and Miss Wishart had gone on in front and were now +strayed among boulders. She liked this trim and precise young man, +whose courtesy was so grave and elaborate, while he, being a recluse by +nature but a humanitarian by profession, was half nervous and half +entranced in her cheerful society. They talked of nothing, their hearts +being set on the scramble, and when at last they reached the highway and +the farm where the Glenavelin traps had been put up, they found +themselves a clear ten minutes in advance of the others.</p> + +<p>As they sat on the dyke in the soft cool air Alice spoke casually of the +place. “Where is Etterick?†she asked; and a light on a hillside +farther up the glen was pointed out to her.</p> + +<p>“It’s a very fresh and pleasant place to stay at,†said Arthur. “We’re +much higher than you are at Glenavelin, and the house is bigger and +older. But we simply camp in a corner of it. You can never get Lewie +to live like other people. He is the best of men, but his tastes are +primeval. He makes us plunge off a verandah into a loch first thing in +the morning, you know, and I shall certainly drown some day, for I am +never more than half awake, and I always seem to go straight to the +bottom. Then he is crazy about long expeditions, and when the Twelfth +comes we shall never be off the hill. He is a long way too active for +these slack modern days.â€</p> + +<p>Lewie, Lewie! It was Lewie everywhere! thought the girl. What could +become of a man who was so hedged about by admirers? He had seemed to +court her presence, and her heart had begun to beat faster of late when +she saw his face. She dared not confess to herself that she was in +love—that she wanted this Lewis to herself, and bated the pretensions of +his friends. Instead she flattered herself with a fiction. Her ground +was the high one of an interest in character. She liked the young man +and was sorry to see him in a way to be spoiled by too much admiration. +And the angel who records our innermost thoughts smiled to himself, if +such grave beings can smile.</p> + +<p>Meantime Lewis was delivered bound and captive to the enemy. All down +the burn his companion had been Mr. Stocks, and they had lagged behind +the others. That gentleman had not enjoyed the day; he had been bored +by the landscape and scorched by the sun; also, as the time of contest +approached, he was full of political talk, and he had found no ears to +appreciate it. Now he had seized on Lewis, and the younger man had lent +him polite attention though inwardly full of ravening and bitterness.</p> + +<p>“Your friend Mr. Mordaunt has promised to support my candidature. You, +of course, will be in the opposite camp.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis said he did not think so—that he had lost interest in party +politics, and would lie low.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks bowed in acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“And what do you think of my chances?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis replied that he should think about equal betting. “You see the +place is Radical in the main, with the mills at Gledfoot and the weavers +at Gledsmuir. Up in Glenavelin they are more or less Conservative. +Merkland gets in usually by a small majority because he is a local man +and has a good deal of property down the Gled. If two strangers fought +it the Radical would win; as it is it is pretty much of a toss-up either +way.â€</p> + +<p>“But if Sir Robert resigns?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, that scare has been raised every time by the other party. I should +say that there’s no doubt that the old man will keep on for years.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks looked relieved. “I heard of his resignation as a +certainty, and I was afraid that a stronger man might take his place.â€</p> + +<p>So it fell out that the day which began with pastoral closed, like many +another day, with politics. Since Lewis refrained from controversy, Mr. +Stocks seemed to look upon him as a Gallio from whom no danger need be +feared, nay, even as a convert to be fostered. He became confident and +talked jocularly of the tricks of his trade. Lewis’s boredom was +complete by the time they reached the farmhouse and found the Glenavelin +party ready to start.</p> + +<p>“We want to see Etterick, so we shall come to lunch to-morrow, Lewie,†+said his aunt. “So be prepared, my dear, and be on your best +behaviour.â€</p> + +<p>Then, with his two friends, he turned towards the lights of his home.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><br /> +<small>THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> day before the events just recorded two men had entered the door of +a certain London club and made their way to a remote little smoking-room +on the first floor. It was not a handsome building, nor had it any +particular outlook or position. It was a small, old-fashioned place in +a side street, in style obviously of last century, and the fittings +within were far from magnificent. Yet no club carried more distinction +in its membership. Its hundred possible inmates were the cream of the +higher professions, the chef and the cellar were things to wonder at, +and the man who could write himself a member of the Rota Club had +obtained one of the rare social honours which men confer on one another. +Thither came all manner of people—the distinguished foreigner travelling +incognito, and eager to talk with some Minister unofficially on matters +of import, the diplomat on a secret errand, the traveller home for a +brief season, the soldier, the thinker, the lawyer. It was a catholic +assembly, but exclusive—very. Each man bore the stamp of competence on +his face, and there was no cheap talk of the “well-informed†variety. +When the members spoke seriously they spoke like experts; otherwise they +were apt to joke very much like schoolboys let loose. The Right Hon. +Mr. M—— was not above twitting Lord S—— with gunroom stories, and +suffering in turn good-natured libel.</p> + +<p>Of the two men lighting their pipes in the little room one was to the +first glance a remarkable figure. About the middle height, with a +square head and magnificent shoulders, he looked from the back not +unlike some professional strong man. But his face betrayed him, for it +was clearly the face of the intellectual worker, the man of character +and mind. His jaw was massive and broad, saved from hardness only by a +quaintly humorous mouth; he had, too, a pair of very sharp blue eyes +looking from under shaggy eyebrows. His age was scarcely beyond thirty, +but one would have put it ten years later, for there were lines on his +brow and threads of grey in his hair. His companion was slim and, to a +hasty glance, insignificant. He wore a peaked grey beard which +lengthened his long, thin face, and he had a nervous trick of drumming +always with his fingers on whatever piece of furniture was near. But if +you looked closer and marked the high brow, the keen eyes, and the very +resolute mouth, the thought of insignificance disappeared. He looked +not unlike a fighting Yankee colonel who had had a Puritan upbringing, +and the impression was aided by his simplicity in dress. He was, in +fact, a very great man, the Foreign Secretary of the time, formerly +known to fame as Lord Malham, and at the moment, by his father’s death, +Lord Beauregard, and, for his sins, an exile to the Upper House. His +companion, whose name was Wratislaw, was a younger Member of Parliament +who was credited with peculiar knowledge and insight on the matters +which formed his lordship’s province. They were close friends and +allies of some years’ standing, and colloquies between the two in this +very place were not unknown to the club annals.</p> + +<p>Lord Beauregard looked at his companion’s anxious face. “Do you know +the news?†he said.</p> + +<p>“What news?†asked Wratislaw. “That your family position is changed, or +that the dissolution will be a week earlier, or that Marka is busy +again?â€</p> + +<p>“I mean the last. How did you know? Did you see the telegrams?â€</p> + +<p>“No, I saw it in the papers.â€</p> + +<p>“Good Heavens!†said the great man. “Let me see the thing,†and he +snatched a newspaper cutting from Wratislaw’s hand, returning it the +next moment with a laugh. It ran thus: “Telegrams from the Punjab +declare that an expedition, the personnel of which is not yet revealed, +is about to start for the town of Bardur in N. Kashmir, to penetrate the +wastes beyond the frontier. It is rumoured that the expedition has a +semi-official character.â€</p> + +<p>“That’s our friend,†said Wratislaw, putting the paper into his pocket.</p> + +<p>Lord Beauregard wrinkled his brow and stared at the bowl of his pipe. +“I see the motive clearly, but I am hanged if I understand why an +evening paper should print it. Who in this country knows of the +existence of Bardur?â€</p> + +<p>“Many people since Haystoun’s book,†said the other.</p> + +<p>“I have just glanced at it. Is there anything important in it?â€</p> + +<p>“Nothing that we did not know before. But things are put in a fresh +light. He covered ground himself of which we had only a second-hand +account.â€</p> + +<p>“And he talks of this Bardur?â€</p> + +<p>“A good deal. He is an expert in his way on the matter and uncommonly +clever. He kept the best things out of the book, and it would be worth +your while meeting him. Do you happen to know him?â€</p> + +<p>“No—o,†said the great man doubtfully. “Oh, stop a moment. I have +heard my young brother talk of somebody of the same name. Rather a +figure at Oxford, wasn’t he?â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw nodded. “But to talk of Marka,†he added.</p> + +<p>“His mission is, of course, official, and he has abundant resources.â€</p> + +<p>“So much I gathered,†said Wratislaw. “But his designs?</p> + +<p>“He knows the tribes in the North better than any living man, but +without a base at hand he is comparatively harmless. The devil in the +thing is that we do not know how close that base may be. Fifty thousand +men may be massed within fifty miles, and we are in ignorance.â€</p> + +<p>“It is the lack of a secret service,†said the other. “Had we that, +there are a hundred young men who would have risked their necks there +and kept us abreast of our enemies. As it is, we have to wait till news +comes by some roundabout channel, while that cheerful being, Marka, +keeps the public easy by news of hypothetical private expeditious.â€</p> + +<p>“And meantime there is that thousand-mile piece of desert of which we +know nothing, and where our friends may be playing pranks as they +please. Well, well, we must wait on developments. It is the last +refuge of the ill-informed. What about the dissolution? You are safe, +I suppose?â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw nodded.</p> + +<p>“I have been asked my forecast fifty times to-day, and I steadily refuse +to speak. But I may as well give it to you. We shall come back with a +majority of from fifty to eighty, and you, my dear fellow, will not be +forgotten.â€</p> + +<p>“You mean the Under-Secretaryship,†said the other. “Well, I don’t mind +it.â€</p> + +<p>“I should think not. Why, you will get that chance your friends have +hoped so long for, and then it is only a matter of time till you climb +the last steps. You are a youngish man for a Minister, for all your +elderly manners.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw smiled the pleased smile of the man who hears kind words from +one whom he admires. “It won’t be a bed of roses, you know. I am very +unpopular, and I have the grace to know it.â€</p> + +<p>The elder man looked on the younger with an air of kindly wisdom. “Your +pride may have a fall, my dear fellow. You are young and confident, I +am old and humble. Some day you will be glad to hope that you are not +without this despised popularity.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw looked grave. “God forbid that I should despise it. When it +comes my way I shall think that my work is done, and rest in peace. But +you and I are not the sort of people who can court it with comfort. We +are old sticks and very full of angles, but it would be a pity to rub +them off if the shape were to be spoiled.â€</p> + +<p>Lord Beauregard nodded. “Tell me more about your friend Haystoun.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw’s face relaxed, and he became communicative.</p> + +<p>“He is a Scots laird, rather well off, and, as I have said, uncommonly +clever. He lives at a place called Etterick in the Gled valley.â€</p> + +<p>“I saw Merkland to-day, and he spoke his farewell to politics. The +Whips told me about it yesterday.â€</p> + +<p>“Merkland! But he always raised that scare!â€</p> + +<p>“He is serious this time. He has sold his town house.â€</p> + +<p>“Then that settles it. Lewis shall stand in his place.â€</p> + +<p>“Good,†said the great man. “We want experts. He would strengthen your +feeble hands and confirm your tottering knees, Tommy.â€</p> + +<p>“If he gets in; but he will have a fight for it. Our dear friend Albert +Stocks has been nursing the seat, and the Manorwaters and scores of +Lewie’s friends will help him. That young man has a knack of confining +his affections to members of the opposite party.â€</p> + +<p>“What was Merkland’s majority? Two-fifty or something like that?â€</p> + +<p>“There or about. But he was an old and well-liked country laird, +whereas Lewie is a very young gentleman with nothing to his credit +except an Oxford reputation and a book of travels, neither of which will +appeal to the Gledsmuir weavers.â€</p> + +<p>“But he is popular?â€</p> + +<p>“Where he is known—adored. But his name does not carry confidence to +those who do not know the man, for his family were weak-kneed gentry.â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, I knew his father. Able, but crotchety and impossible! Tommy, +this young man must get the seat, for we cannot afford to throw away a +single chance. You say he knows the place,†and he jerked his head to +indicate that East to which his thoughts were ever turning. “Some time +in the next two years there will be the devil’s own mess in that happy +land. Then your troubles will begin, my friend, and I can wish nothing +better for you than the support of some man in the Commons who knows +that Bardur is not quite so pastoral as Hampshire. He may relieve you +of some of the popular odium you are courting, and at the worst he can +be sent out.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw whistled long and low. “I think not,†he said. “He is too +good to throw away. But he must get in, and as there is nothing in the +world for me to do I shall go up to Etterick tomorrow and talk to him. +He will do as I tell him, and we can put our back into the fight. +Besides, I want to see Stocks again. That man is the joy of my heart!â€</p> + +<p>“Lucky beggar!†said the Minister. “Oh, go by all means and enjoy +yourself, while I swelter here for another three weeks over meaningless +telegrams enlivened by the idiot diplomatist. Good-bye and good luck, +and bring the young man to a sense of his own value.â€</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><br /> +<small>MR. WRATISLAW’S ADVENT</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">A<small>S</small> the three men went home in the dusk they talked of the day. Lewis +had been in a bad humour, but the company of his friends exorcised the +imp of irritation, and he felt only the mellow gloom of the evening and +the sweet scents of the moor. In such weather he had a trick of walking +with his head high and his nostrils wide, sniffing the air like the wild +ass of the desert with which the metaphorical George had erstwhile +compared him. That young man meanwhile was occupied with his own +reflections. His good nature had been victimized, he had been made to +fetch and carry continually, and the result was that he had scarcely +spoken a word to Miss Wishart. His plans thus early foiled, nothing +remained but to draw the more fortunate Arthur, so in a conspirator’s +aside he asked him his verdict. But Arthur refused to speak. “She is +pretty and clever,†he said, “and excellent company.†And with this his +lips were sealed, and his thoughts went off on his own concerns.</p> + +<p>Lewis heard and smiled. The sun and wind of the hills beat in his +pulses like wine. To have breathed all day the fragrance of heather and +pines, to have gladdened the eye with an infinite distance and blue +lines of mountain, was with this man to have drunk the cup of +intoxicating youth. The cool gloaming did not chill; rather it was the +high and solemn aftermath of the day’s harvesting. The faces of +gracious women seemed blent with the pageant of summer weather; kindly +voices, simple joys—for a moment they seemed to him the major matters in +life. So far it was pleasing fancy, but Alice soon entered to disturb +with the disquieting glory of her hair. The family of the Haystouns had +ever a knack of fine sentiment. Fantastic, unpractical, they were +gluttons for the romantic, the recondite, and the dainty. But now had +come a breath of strong wind which rent the meshes of a philandering +fancy. A very new and strange feeling was beginning to make itself +known. He had come to think of Alice with the hot pained affection +which makes the high mountains of the world sink for the time to a +species of mole-hillock. She danced through his dreams and usurped all +the paths of his ambition. Formerly he had thought of himself—for the +man was given to self-portraiture—as the adventurer, the scorner of the +domestic; now he struggled to regain the old attitude, but he struggled +in vain. The ways were blocked, a slim figure was ever in view, and lo! +when he blotted it from his sight the world was dark and the roads +blind. For a moment he had lost his bearings on the sea of life. As +yet the discomfiture was sweet, his confusion was a joy; and it is the +first trace of weakness which we have seen in the man that he accepted +the unsatisfactory with composure.</p> + +<p>At the door of Etterick it became apparent that something was astir. +Wheel-marks were clear in the gravel, and the ancient butler had an air +of ceremony. “Mr. Wratislaw has arrived, sir,†he whispered to Lewis, +whereat that young man’s face shone.</p> + +<p>“When? How? Where is he now?†he cried, and with a word to his +companions he had crossed the hall, raced down a lengthy passage, and +flung open the door of his sanctum. There, sure enough, were the broad +shoulders of Wratislaw bending among the books.</p> + +<p>“Lord bless me, Tommy, what extraordinary surprise visit is this? I +thought you would be over your ears in work. We are tremendously +pleased to see you.â€</p> + +<p>The sharp blue eyes had been scanning the other’s frank sunburnt face +with an air of affectionate consideration. “I got off somehow or other, +as I had to see you, old man, so I thought I would try this place first. +What a fortressed wilderness you live in! I got out at Gledsmuir after +travelling some dreary miles in a train which stopped at every farm, and +then I had to wait an hour till the solitary dogcart of the inn +returned. Hullo! you’ve got other visitors.†And he stretched out a +massive hand to Arthur and George.</p> + +<p>The sight of him had lifted a load from these gentlemen’s hearts. The +old watchdog had come; the little terriers might now take holiday. The +task of being Lewis’s keeper did not by right belong to them; they were +only amateurs acting in the absence of the properly qualified Wratislaw. +Besides, it had been anxious work, for while each had sworn to himself +aforetime to protect his friend from the wiles of Miss Wishart, both +were now devoted slaves drawn at that young woman’s chariot wheel. You +will perceive that it is a delicate matter to wage war with a goddess, +and a task unblest of Heaven.</p> + +<p>Supper was brought, and the lamps lit in the cool old room, where, +through the open window, they could still catch the glint of foam on the +stream and the dark gloom of pines on the hill. They fell ravenously on +the meal, for one man had eaten nothing since midday and the others were +fresh from moorland air. Thereafter they pulled armchairs to a window, +and lit the pipes of contentment. Wratislaw stretched his arms on the +sill and looked out into the fragrant darkness.</p> + +<p>“Any news, Tommy?†asked his host. “Things seem lively in the East.â€</p> + +<p>“Very, but I am ill-informed. Did you lay no private lines of +communication in your travels?â€</p> + +<p>“They were too short. I picked up a lot of out-of-the-way hints, but as +I am not a diplomatist I cannot use them. I think I have already made +you a present of most. By the by, I see from the papers that an +official expedition is going north from Bardur. What idiot invented +that?â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw pulled his head in and sat back in his chair. “You are sure +you don’t happen to know?â€</p> + +<p>“Sure. But it is just the sort of canard which the gentry on the other +side of the frontier would invent to keep things quiet. Who are the +Englishmen at Bardur now?â€</p> + +<p>The elder man looked shrewdly at the younger, who was carelessly pulling +a flower to pieces. “There’s Logan, whom you know, and Thwaite and +Gribton.â€</p> + +<p>“Good men all, but slow in the uptake. Logan is a jewel. He gave me +the best three days’ shooting I ever dreamed of, and he has more stories +in his head than George. But if matters got into a tangle I would +rather not be in his company. Thwaite is a gentlemanlike sort of +fellow, but dull—very, while Gribton is the ordinary shrewd commercial +man, very cautious and rather timid.â€</p> + +<p>“Did you ever happen to hear of a man called Marka? He might call +himself Constantine Marka, or Arthur Marker, or the Baron Mark—whatever +happened to suit him.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis puzzled for a little. “Yes, of course I did. By George! I +should think so. It was a chap of that name who had gone north the week +before I arrived. They said he would never be heard of again. He +seemed a reckless sort of fool.â€</p> + +<p>“You didn’t see him?â€</p> + +<p>“No. But why?â€</p> + +<p>“Simply that you came within a week of meeting one of the cleverest men +living, a cheerful being whom the Foreign Office is more interested in +than any one else in the world. If you should hear again of Constantine +Marka, Marker, or Mark, please note it down.â€</p> + +<p>“You mean that he is the author of the <i>canard</i>,†said Lewis, with sharp +eyes, taking up a newspaper.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and many more. This graceful person will complicate things for +me, for I am to represent the Office in the Commons if we get back with +a decent majority.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis held out a cordial hand. “I congratulate you, Tommy. Now +beginneth the end, and may I be spared to see!â€</p> + +<p>“I hope you may, and it’s on this I want to talk to you. Merkland has +resigned; it will be in the papers to-morrow. I got it kept out till I +could see you!â€</p> + +<p>“Yes?†said Lewis, with quickening interest.</p> + +<p>“And we want you to take his place. I spoke to him, and he is +enthusiastic on the matter. I wired to the Conservative Club at +Gledsmuir, and it seems you are their most cherished possibility. The +leaders of the party are more than willing, so it only remains for you +to consent, my dear boy.â€</p> + +<p>“I—don’t—think—I—can,†said the possibility slowly. “You see, only +to-day I told that man Stocks that Merkland would not resign, and that I +was sick of party politics and would not interfere with his chances. +The poor beggar is desperately keen, and if I stood now he would think +me disingenuous.â€</p> + +<p>“But there is no reason why he should not know the truth. You can tell +him that you only heard about Merkland to-night, and that you act only +in deference to strong external pressure.â€</p> + +<p>“In that case he would think me a fool. I have a bad enough reputation +for lack of seriousness in these matters already. The man is not very +particular, and there is nothing to hinder him from blazoning it up and +down the place that I changed my mind in ten minutes on a friend’s +recommendation. I should get a very complete licking.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you mind, Lewie, if I advise you to take it seriously? It is really +not a case for little scruples about reputation. There are rocks ahead +of me, and I want a man like you in the House more than I could make you +understand. You say you hate party politics, and I am with you, but +there is no reason why you should not use them as a crutch to better +work. You are in your way an expert, and that is what we will need +above all things in the next few years. Of course, if you feel yourself +bound by a promise not to oppose Stocks, then I have nothing more to +say; but, unless the man is a lunatic, he will admit the justice of your +case.â€</p> + +<p>“You mean that you really want me, Tommy?†said the young man, in great +doubt. “I hate the idea of fighting Stocks, and I shall most certainly +be beaten.â€</p> + +<p>“That is on the knees of the gods, and as for the rest I take the +responsibility. I shall speak to Stocks myself. It will be a sharp +fight, but I see no reason why you should not win. After all, it is +your own countryside, and you are a better man than your opponent.â€</p> + +<p>“You are the serpent who has broken up this peaceful home. I shall be +miserable for a month, and the house will be divided against itself. +Arthur has promised to help Stocks, while the Manorwaters, root and +branch, are pledged to support him.â€</p> + +<p>“I’ll do my best, Lewie, for old acquaintance’ sake. It had to come +sooner or later, you know, and it is as well that you should seize the +favourable moment. Now let us drop the subject for to-night. I want to +enjoy myself.â€</p> + +<p>And he rose, stretched his great arms, and wandered about the room.</p> + +<p>To all appearance he had forgotten the very existence of things +political. Arthur, who had a contest to face shortly, was eager for +advice and the odds and ends of information which defend the joints in a +candidate’s harness, but the well-informed man disdained to help. He +tested the guns, gave his verdict on rods, and ranged through a cabinet +of sporting requisites. Then he fell on his host’s books, and for an +hour the three were content to listen to him. It was rarely that +Wratislaw fell into such moods, but when the chance came it was not to +be lightly disregarded. A laborious youth had given him great stores of +scholarship, and Lewis’s books were a curious if chaotic collection. On +the fly-leaf of a little duodecimo was an inscription from the author of +Waverley, who had often made Etterick his hunting-ground. A Dunbar had +Hawthornden’s autograph, and a set of tall classic folios bore the +handwriting of George Buchanan. Lord Kames, Hume, and a score of others +had dedicated works to lairds of Etterick, and the Haystouns themselves +had deigned at times to court the Muse. Lewis’s own special +books—college prizes, a few modern authors, some well-thumbed poets, and +a row in half a dozen languages on some matters of diplomatic +interest—were crowded into a little oak bookcase which had once graced +his college rooms. Thither Wratislaw ultimately turned, dipping, +browsing, reading a score of lines.</p> + +<p>“What a nice taste you have in arrangement!†he cried. “Scott, Tolstoi, +Meredith, an odd volume of a Saga library, an odd volume of the <i>Corpus +Boreale</i>, some Irish reprints, Stevenson’s poems, Virgil and the +<i>Pilgrim’s Progress</i>, and a French Gazetteer of Mountains wedged above +them. And then an odd Badminton volume, French <i>Memoires</i>, a Dante, a +Homer, and a badly printed German text of Schopenhauer! Three different +copies of Rabelais, a De Thou, a Horace, and-bless my soul!—about +twenty books of fairy tales! Lewie, you must have a mind like a +lumber-room.â€</p> + +<p>“I pillaged books from the big library as I wanted them,†said the young +man humbly. “Do you know, Tommy, to talk quite seriously, I get more +erratic every day? Knocking about the world and living alone make me a +queer slave of whims. I am straying too far from the normal. I wish to +goodness you would take me and drive me back to the ways of common +sense.â€</p> + +<p>“Meaning—?</p> + +<p>“That I am getting cranky and diffident. I am beginning to get nervous +about people’s opinion and sensitive to my own eccentricity. It is a +sad case for a man who never used to care a straw for a soul on earth.â€</p> + +<p>“Lewie, attend to me,†said Wratislaw, with mock gravity. “You have not +by any chance been falling in love?â€</p> + +<p>The accused blushed like a girl, and lied withal like a trooper, to the +delight of the un-Christian George.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, my dear fellow, there is hope for you yet. If a man once +gets sentimental, he desires to be normal above all things, for he has a +crazy intuition that it is the normal which women really like, being +themselves but a hair’s-breadth from the commonplace. I suppose it is +only another of the immortal errors with which mankind hedges itself +about.â€</p> + +<p>“You think it an error?†said Lewis, with such an air of relief that +George began to laugh and Wratislaw looked comically suspicious.</p> + +<p>“Why the tone of joy, Lewie?â€</p> + +<p>“I wanted your opinion,†said the perjured young man. “I thought of +writing a book. But that is not the thing I was talking about. I want +to be normal, aggressively normal, to court the suffrages of Gledsmuir. +Do you know Stocks?â€</p> + +<p>“Surely.â€</p> + +<p>“An excellent person, but I never heard him utter a word above a child’s +capacity. He can talk the most shrieking platitudes as if he had found +at last the one and only truth. And people are impressed.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw pulled down his eyebrows and proceeded to defend a Scottish +constituency against the libel of gullibility. But Lewis was not +listening. He did not think of the impression made on the voting +powers, but on one small girl who clamorously impeded all his thoughts. +She was, he knew, an enthusiast for the finer sentiments of life, and of +these Mr. Stocks had long ago claimed a monopoly. He felt bitterly +jealous—the jealousy of the innocent man to whom woman is an +unaccountable creature, whose habits and likings must be curiously +studied. He was dimly conscious of lacking the stage attributes of a +lover. He could not pose as a mirror of all virtues, a fanatic for the +True and the Good. Somehow or other he had acquired an air of +self-seeking egotism, unscrupulousness, which he felt miserably must +make him unlovely in certain eyes. Nor would the contest he was +entering upon improve this fancied reputation of his. He would have to +say hard, unfeeling things against what all the world would applaud as +generous sentiment.</p> + +<p>When the others had gone yawning to bed, he returned and sat at the +window for a little, smoking hard and puzzling out the knots which +confronted him. He had a dismal anticipation of failure. Not +defeat—that was a little matter; but an abject show of incompetence. +His feelings pulled him hither and thither. He could not utter moral +platitudes to checkmate his opponent’s rhetoric, for, after all, he was +honest; nor could he fill the part of the cold critic of hazy sentiment; +gladly though he would have done it, he feared the reproach in girlish +eyes. This good man was on the horns of a dilemma. Love and habit, a +generous passion and a keen intellect dragged him alternately to their +side, and as a second sign of weakness the unwilling scribe has to +record that his conclusion as he went to bed was to let things drift—to +take his chance.</p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><br /> +<small>THE EPISODES OF A DAY</small></h2> + + +<p>It is painful to record it, but when the Glenavelin party arrived at +noon of the next day it was only to find the house deserted. Lady +Manorwater, accustomed to the vagaries of her nephew, led the guests +over the place and found to her horror that it seemed undwelt in. The +hall was in order, and the tart and rosy lairds of Etterick looked down +from their Raeburn canvases on certain signs of habitation; but the +drawing-rooms were dingy with coverings and all the large rooms were in +the same tidy disarray. Then, wise from experience, she led the way to +Lewis’s sanctum, and found there a pretty luncheon-table and every token +of men’s presence. Soon the four tenants arrived, hot and breathless, +from the hill, to find Bertha Afflint deep in rods and guns, Miss +Wishart and Lady Manorwater ensconced in the great armchairs, and Mr. +Stocks casting a critic’s eye over the unruly bookshelves.</p> + +<p>Wratislaw’s presence at first cast a certain awe on the assembly. His +name was so painfully familiar, so consistently abused, that it was hard +to refrain from curiosity. Lady Manorwater, an ancient ally, greeted +him effusively, and Alice cast shy glances at this strong man with the +kind smile and awkward manners. The truth is that Wratislaw was acutely +nervous. With Mr. Stocks alone was he at his ease. He shook his hand +heartily, declared himself delighted to meet him again, and looked with +such manifest favour on this opponent that the gentleman was cast into +confusion.</p> + +<p>“I must talk shop,†cried Lady Manorwater when they were seated at +table. “Lewie, have you heard the news that poor Sir Robert has +retired? What a treasure of a cook you have, sir! The poor man is +going to travel, as his health is bad; he wrote me this morning. Now +who is to take his place? And I wish you’d get me the recipe for this +tomato soup.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis unravelled the tangled skein of his aunt’s questions.</p> + +<p>“I heard about Merkland last night from Wratislaw. I think, perhaps, I +had better make a confession to everybody. I never intended to bother +with party politics, at least not for a good many years, but some people +want me to stand, so I have agreed. You will have a very weak opponent, +Stocks, so I hope you will pardon my impertinence in trying the thing.â€</p> + +<p>The candidate turned a little pale, but he smiled gallantly.</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to have so distinguished an opponent. But I thought +that yesterday you would never have dreamed of the thing.â€</p> + +<p>“No more I should; but Wratislaw talked to me seriously and I was +persuaded.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw tried to look guileless, failed signally, and detected a +sudden unfavourable glance from Mr. Stocks in his direction.</p> + +<p>“We must manage everything as pleasantly as possible. You have my aunt +and my uncle and Arthur on your side, while I have George, who doesn’t +count in this show, and I hope Wratislaw. I’ll give you a three days’ +start if you like in lieu of notice.†And the young man laughed as if +the matter were the simplest of jokes.</p> + +<p>The laugh jarred very seriously on one listener. To Alice the morning +had been full of vexations, for Mr. Stocks had again sought her +company, and wearied her with a new manner of would-be gallantry which +sat ill upon him. She had come to Etterick with a tenderness towards +Lewis which was somewhat dispelled by his newly-disclosed political +aims. It meant that the Glenavelin household, including herself, would +be in a different camp for three dreary weeks, and that Mr. Stocks +would claim more of her society than ever. With feminine inconsistency +she visited her repugnance towards that gentleman on his innocent rival. +But Mr. Lewis Haystoun’s light-hearted manner of regarding the business +struck the little Puritan deeper. Politics had always been a thing of +the gravest import in her eyes, bound up with a man’s duty and honour +and religion, and lo! here was this Gallio who not only adorned a party +she had been led to regard as reprobate, but treated the whole affair as +a half-jocular business, on which one should not be serious. It was +sheer weakness, her heart cried out, the weakness of the philanderer, +the half-hearted. In her vexation her interest flew in sympathy to Mr. +Stocks, and she viewed him for the occasion with favour.</p> + +<p>“You are far too frivolous about it,†she cried. “How can you fight if +you are not in earnest, and how can you speak things you only half +believe? I hate to think of men playing at politics.†And she had set +her little white teeth, and sat flushed and diffident, a Muse of +Protest.</p> + +<p>Lewis flushed in turn. He recognized with pain the fulfilment of his +fears. He saw dismally how during the coming fight he would sink daily +in the estimation of this small critic, while his opponent would as +conspicuously rise. The prospect did not soothe him, and he turned to +Bertha Afflint, who was watching the scene with curious eyes.</p> + +<p>“It’s very sad, Lewie,†she said, “but you’ll get no canvassers from +Glenavelin. We have all been pledged to Mr. Stocks for the last week. +Alice is a keen politician, and, I believe, has permanently unsettled +Lord Manorwater’s easy-going Liberalism. She believes in action; +whereas, you know, he does not.â€</p> + +<p>“We all believe in action nowadays,†said Wratislaw. “I could wish at +times for the revival of ‘leisureliness’ as a party catch-word.â€</p> + +<p>And then there ensued a passage of light arms between the great man and +Bertha which did not soothe Alice’s vexation. She ignored the amiable +George, seeing in him another of the half-hearted, and in a fine heat of +virtue devoted herself to Mr. Stocks. That gentleman had been +melancholy, but the favour of Miss Wishart made him relax his heavy +brows and become communicative. He was flattered by her interest. She +heard his reminiscences with a smile and his judgments with attention. +Soon the whole table talked merrily, and two people alone were aware +that breaches yawned under the unanimity.</p> + +<p>Archness was not in Alice’s nature, and still less was coquetry. When +Lewis after lunch begged to be allowed to show her his dwelling she did +not blush and simper, she showed no pretty reluctance, no graceful +displeasure. She thanked him, but coldly, and the two climbed the ridge +above the lake, whence the whole glen may be seen winding beneath. It +was still, hot July weather, and the far hills seemed to blink and +shimmer in the haze; but at their feet was always coolness in the blue +depth of the loch, the heath-fringed shores, the dark pines, and the +cold whinstone crags.</p> + +<p>“You don’t relish the prospect of the next month?†she asked.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders. “After all, it is only a month, and it will +all be over before the shooting begins.â€</p> + +<p>“I cannot understand you,†she cried suddenly and impatiently. “People +call you ambitious, and yet you have to be driven by force to the +simplest move in the game, and all the while you are thinking and +talking as if a day’s sport were of far greater importance.â€</p> + +<p>“And it really vexes you—Alice?†he said, with penitent eyes.</p> + +<p>She drew swiftly away and turned her face, so that the man might not see +the vexation and joy struggling for mastery.</p> + +<p>“Of course it is none of my business, but surely it is a pity.†And the +little doctrinaire walked with head erect to the edge of the slope and +studied intently the distant hills.</p> + +<p>The man was half amused, half pained, but his evil star was in the +ascendant. Had he known it, he would have been plain and natural, for +at no time had the girl ever been so near to him. Instead, he made some +laughing remark, which sounded harshly flippant in her ears. She looked +at him reproachfully; it was cruel to treat her seriousness with scorn; +and then, seeing Lady Manorwater and the others on the lawn below, she +asked him with studied carelessness to take her back. Lewis obeyed +meekly, cursing in his heart his unhappy trick of an easy humour. If +his virtues were to go far to rob him of what he most cared for, it +looked black indeed for the unfortunate young man.</p> + +<p>Meantime Wratislaw and Mr. Stocks had drawn together by the attraction +of opposites. A change had come over the latter, and momentarily +eclipsed his dignity. For the man was not without tact, and he felt +that the attitude of high-priest of all the virtues would not suit in +the presence of one whose favourite task it was to laugh his so-called +virtues to scorn. Such, at least to begin with, was his honourable +intention. But the subtle Wratislaw drew him from his retirement and +skilfully elicited his coy principles. It was a cruel performance—a +shameless one, had there been any spectator. The one would lay down a +fine generous line of policy; the other would beg for a fact in +confirmation. The one would haltingly detail some facts; the other +would promptly convince him of their falsity. Eventually the victim +grew angry and a little frightened. The real Mr. Stocks was a man of +business, not above making a deal with an opponent; and for a little the +real Mr. Stocks emerged from his shell.</p> + +<p>“You won’t speak much in the coming fight, will you? You see, you are +rather heavy metal for a beginner like myself,†he said, with commercial +frankness.</p> + +<p>“No, my dear Stocks, to set your mind at rest, I won’t. Lewis wants to +be knocked about a little, and he wants the fight to brace him. I’ll +leave him to fight his own battles, and wish good luck to the better +man. Also, I won’t come to your meetings and ask awkward questions.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks bore malice only to his inferiors, and respected his betters +when he was not on a platform. He thanked Wratislaw with great +heartiness, and when Lady Manorwater found the two they were beaming on +each other like the most ancient friends.</p> + +<p>“Has anybody seen Lewie?†she was asking. “He is the most scandalous +host in the world. We can’t find boats or canoes and we can’t find him. +Oh, here is the truant!†And the renegade host was seen in the wake of +Alice descending from the ridge.</p> + +<p>Something in the attitude of the two struck the lady with suspicion. +Was it possible that she had been blind, and that her nephew was about +to confuse her cherished schemes? This innocent woman, who went through +the world as not being of it, had fancied that already Alice had fallen +in with her plans. She had seemed to court Mr. Stocks’s company, while +he most certainly sought eagerly for hers. But Lewis, if he entered the +lists, would be a perplexing combatant, and Lady Manorwater called her +gods to witness that it should not be. Many motives decided her against +it. She hated that a scheme of her own once made should be checkmated, +though it were by her dearest friend. More than all, her pride was in +arms. Lewis was a dazzling figure; he should make a great match; money +and pretty looks and parvenu blood were not enough for his high +mightiness.</p> + +<p>So it came about that, when they had explored the house, circumnavigated +the loch, and had tea on a lawn of heather, she informed her party that +she must get out at Haystounslacks, for she wished to see the farmer, +and asked Bertha to keep her company. The young woman agreed readily, +with the result that Alice and Mr. Stocks were left sole occupants of +the carriage for the better half of the way. The man was only too +willing to seize the chance thus divinely given him. His irritation at +Lewis’s projects had been tempered by Alice’s kindness at lunch and +Wratislaw’s unlooked-for complaisance. Things looked rosy for him; far +off, as on the horizon of his hopes, he saw a seat in Parliament and a +fair and amply dowered wife.</p> + +<p>But Miss Wishart was scarcely in so pleasant a humour. With Lewis she +was undeniably cross, but of Mr. Stocks she was radically intolerant. +A moment of pique might send her to his side, but the position was +unnatural and could not be maintained. Even now Lewis was in her +thoughts. Fragments of his odd romantic speech clove to her memory. +His figure—for he showed to perfection in his own surroundings—was so +comely and gallant, so bright with the glamour of adventurous youth, +that for a moment this prosaic young woman was a convert to the coloured +side of life and had forgotten her austere creed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks went about his duty with praise-worthy thoroughness. For +the fiftieth time in a week he detailed to her his prospects. When he +had raised a cloud-built castle of fine hopes, when he had with manly +simplicity repeated his confession of faith, he felt that the crucial +moment had arrived. Now, when she looked down the same avenue of +prospect as himself, he could gracefully ask her to adorn the fair scene +with her presence.</p> + +<p>“Alice,†he said, and at the sound of her name the girl started from a +reverie in which Lewis was not absent, and looked vacantly in his face.</p> + +<p>He took it for maidenly modesty.</p> + +<p>“I have wanted to speak to you for long, Alice. We have seen a good +deal of each other lately, and I have come to be very fond of you. I +trust you may have some liking for me, for I want you to promise to be +my wife.â€</p> + +<p>He told his love in regular sentences. Unconsciously he had fallen into +the soft patronizing tone in which aforetime he had shepherded a Sunday +school.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at the large sentimental face and laughed. She felt +ashamed of her rudeness even in the act.</p> + +<p>He caught her hands, and before she knew his face was close to hers. +“Promise me, dear,†he said. “We have everything in common. Your +father will be delighted, and we will work together for the good of the +people. You are not meant to be a casual idler like the people at +Etterick. You and I are working man and woman.â€</p> + +<p>It was her turn to flush in downright earnest. The man’s hot face +sickened her. What were these wild words he was speaking? She dimly +caught their purport, heard the mention of Etterick, saw once again +Lewis with his quick, kindly eyes, and turned coldly to the lover.</p> + +<p>“It is quite out of the question, Mr. Stocks,†she said calmly. “Of +course I am obliged to you for the honour you have done me, but the +thing is impossible.â€</p> + +<p>“Who is it?†he cried, with angry eyes. “Is it Lewis Haystoun?â€</p> + +<p>The girl looked quickly at him, and he was silent, abashed. Strangely +enough, at that moment she liked him better than ever before. She +forgave him his rudeness and folly, his tactless speech and his comical +face. He was in love with her, he offered her what he most valued, his +political chances and his code of fine sentiments; it was not his blame +if she found both little better than husks.</p> + +<p>Her attention flew for a moment to the place she had left, only to +return to a dismal reflection. Was she not, after all, in the same +galley as her rejected suitor? What place had she in the frank +good-fellowship of Etterick, or what part had they in the inheritance of +herself and her kind? Had not Mr. Stocks—now sitting glumly by her +side—spoken the truth? We are only what we are made, and generations +of thrift and seriousness had given her a love for the strenuous and the +unadorned which could never be cast out. Here was a quandary—for at +the same instant there came the voice of the heart defiantly calling her +to the breaking of idols.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /><br /> +<small>HOME TRUTHS</small></h2> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p class="nind">I<small>T</small> is told by a great writer in his generous English that when the +followers of Diabolus were arraigned before the Recorder and Mayor of +regenerate Mansoul, a certain Mr. Haughty carried himself well to the +last. “He declared,†says Bunyan, “that he had carried himself bravely, +not considering who was his foe or what was the cause in which he was +engaged. It was enough for him if he fought like a man and came off +victorious.†Nevertheless, we are told, he suffered the common doom, +being crucified next day at the place of execution. It is the old fate +of the freelance, the Hal o’ the Wynd who fights for his own hand; for +in life’s contest the taking of sides is assumed to be a necessity.</p> + +<p>Such was Lewis’s reflections when he found Wratislaw waiting for him in +the Etterick dogcart when he emerged from a meeting in Gledsmuir. He +had now enjoyed ten days of it, and he was heartily tired. His throat +was sore with much speaking, his mind was barren with thinking on the +unthinkable, and his spirits were dashed with a bitter sense of +futility. He had honestly done his best. So far his conscience was +clear; but as he reviewed the past in detail, his best seemed a very +shoddy compromise. It was comfort to see the rugged face of Wratislaw +again, though his greeting was tempered by mistrust. The great man had +refused to speak for him and left him to fight his own battles; +moreover, he feared the judgment of the old warrior on his conduct of +the fight. He was acutely conscious of the joints in his armour, but he +had hoped to have decently cloaked them from others. When he heard the +first words, “Well, Lewie, my son, you have been making a mess of it,†+his heart sank.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,†he said. “But how?â€</p> + +<p>“How? Why, my dear chap, you have no grip. You have let the thing get +out of hand. I heard your speech to-night. It was excellent, very +clever, a beautiful piece of work, but worse than useless for your +purpose. You forget the sort of man you are fighting. Oh, I have been +following the business carefully, and I felt bound to come down to keep +you in order. To begin with, you have left your own supporters in the +place in a nice state of doubt.â€</p> + +<p>“How?â€</p> + +<p>“Why, because you have given them nothing to catch hold of. They +expected the ordinary Conservative confession of faith—a rosy sketch of +foreign affairs, and a little gentle Socialism, and the old rhetoric +about Church and State. Instead, they are put off with epigrams and +excellent stories, and a few speculations as to the metaphysical basis +of politics. Believe me, Lewie, it is only the very general liking for +your unworthy self which keeps them from going over in a body to +Stocks.†And Wratislaw lit a cigar and puffed furiously.</p> + +<p>“Then you would have me deliver the usual insincere platitudes?†said +Lewis dismally.</p> + +<p>“I would have you do nothing of the kind. I thought you understood my +point of view. A man like Stocks speaks his platitudes with vehemence +because he believes in them whole-heartedly. You have also your +platitudes to get through with, not because you would stake your soul on +your belief in them, but because they are as near as possible the +inaccurate popular statement of your views, which is all that your +constituents would understand, and you pander to the popular craving +because it is honest enough in itself and is for you the stepping-stone +to worthier work.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis shook his head dismally.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t the knack of it. I seem to stand beside myself and jeer all +the while. Besides, it would be opposing complete sincerity with a very +shady substitute. That man Stocks is at least an honest fool. I met +him the other day after he had been talking some atrocious nonsense. I +asked him as a joke how he could be such a humbug, and he told me quite +honestly that he believed every word; so, of course, I apologized. He +was attacking you people on your foreign policy, and he pulled out a New +Testament and said, ‘What do I read here?’ It went down with many +people, but the thing took away my breath.â€</p> + +<p>His companion looked perplexedly at the speaker. “You have had the +wrong kind of education, Lewie. You have always been the spoiled child, +and easily and half-unconsciously you have mastered things which the +self-made man has to struggle towards with a painful conscious effort. +The result is that you are a highly cultured man without any crudeness +or hysteria, while the other people see things in the wrong perspective +and run their heads against walls and make themselves miserable. You +gain a lot, but you miss one thing. You know nothing of the heart of +the crowd. Oh, I don’t mean the people about Etterick. They are your +own folk, and the whole air of the place is semi-feudal. But the +weavers and artisans of the towns and the ordinary farm workers—what do +you know of them? Your precious theories are so much wind in their +ears. They want the practical, the blatantly obvious, spiced with a +little emotion. Stocks knows their demands. He began among them, and +at present he is but one remove from them. A garbled quotation from the +Scriptures or an appeal to their domestic affections is the very thing +required. Moreover, the man understands an audience. He can bully it, +you know; put on airs of sham independence to cover his real obeisance; +while you are polite and deferent to hide your very obvious scorn.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Tommy, I’m a coward,†Lewis broke in. “I can’t face the +people. When I see a crowd of upturned faces, crass, ignorant, +unwholesome many of them, I begin to despair. I cannot begin to explain +things from the beginning; besides, they would not understand me if I +did. I feel I have nothing in common with them. They lead, most of +them, unhealthy indoor lives, their minds are half-baked, and their +bodies half-developed. I feel a terrible pity, but all the same I +cannot touch them. And then I become a coward and dare not face them +and talk straight as man to man. I repeat my platitudes to the ceiling, +and they go away thinking, and thinking rightly, that I am a fool.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw looked worried. “That is one of my complaints. The other is +that on certain occasions you cannot hold yourself in check. Do you +know you have been blackguarded in the papers lately, and that there is +a violent article against you in the Critic, and all on account of some +unwise utterances?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis flushed deeply. “That is the worst thing I have done, and I feel +horribly penitent. It was the act of a cad and a silly schoolboy. But +I had some provocation, Tommy. I had spoken at length amid many +interruptions, and I was getting cross. It was at Gledfoot, and the +meeting was entirely against me. Then a man got up to tackle me, not a +native, but some wretched London agitator. As I looked at him—a little +chap with fiery eyes and receding brow—and heard his cockney patter, my +temper went utterly. I made a fool of him, and I abused the whole +assembly, and, funnily enough, I carried them with me. People say I +helped my cause immensely.â€</p> + +<p>“It is possible,†said Wratislaw dryly. “The Scot has a sense of humour +and has no objection to seeing his prophets put to shame. But you are +getting a nice reputation elsewhere. When I read some of your sayings, +I laughed of course, but I thought ruefully of your chances.â€</p> + +<p>It was a penitent and desponding man who followed Wratislaw into the +snuggery at Etterick. But light and food, the gleam of silver and +vellum and the sweet fragrance of tobacco consoled him; for in most +matters he was half-hearted, and politics sat lightly on his affections.</p> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p class="nind">T<small>O</small> Alice the weeks of the contest were filled with dire unpleasantness. +Lewis, naturally, kept far from Glenavelin, while of Mr. Stocks she was +never free. She followed Lady Manorwater’s lead and canvassed +vigorously, hoping to find distraction in the excitement of the fight. +But her efforts did not prosper. On one occasion she found herself in a +cottage on the Gledsmuir road, her hands filled with election +literature. A hale old man was sitting at his meal, who greeted her +cordially, and made her sit down while she stumbled through the usual +questions and exhortations. “Are ye no’ bidin’ at Glenavelin?†he +asked. “And have I no seen ye walking on the hill wi’ Maister Lewie?†+When the girl assented, he asked, with the indignation of the +privileged, “Then what for are ye sac keen this body Stocks should win +in? If Maister Lewie’s fond o’ ye, wad it no be wiser—like to wark for +him? Poalitics! What should a woman’s poalitics be but just the same +as her lad’s? I hae nae opeenion o’ this clash about weemen’s +eddication.†And with flaming cheeks the poor girl had risen and fled +from the old reactionary.</p> + +<p>The incident burned into her mind, and she was wretched with the anomaly +of her position. A dawning respect for her rejected lover began to rise +in her heart. The first of his meetings which she attended had +impressed her with his skill in his own vocation. He had held those +people interested. He had spoken bluntly, strongly, honestly. To few +women is it given to distinguish the subtle shades of sincerity in +speech, and to the rule Alice was no exception. The rhetoric and the +cheers which followed had roused the speaker to a new life. His face +became keen, almost attractive, without question full of power. He was +an orator beyond doubt, and when he concluded in a riot of applause, +Alice sat with small hands clenched and eyes shining with delight. He +had spoken the main articles of her creed, but with what force and +freshness! She was convinced, satisfied, delighted; though somewhere in +her thought lurked her old dislike of the man and the memory of another.</p> + +<p>As ill-luck would have it, the next night she went to hear Lewis in +Gledsmuir, when that young gentleman was at his worst. She went +unattended, being a fearless young woman, and consequently found herself +in the very back of the hall crowded among some vehement politicians. +The audience, to begin with, was not unkind. Lewis was greeted with +applause, and at the first heard with patience. But his speech was +vague, incoherent, and tactless. To her unquiet eyes he seemed to be +afraid of the men before him. Every phrase was guarded with a proviso, +and “possiblys†bristled in every sentence. The politicians at the back +grew restless, and Alice was compelled to listen to their short, +scathing criticisms. Soon the meeting was hopelessly out of hand. Men +rose and rudely marched to the door. Catcalls were frequent from the +corners, and the back of the hall became aggressive. The girl had sat +with white, pained face, understanding little save that Lewis was +talking nonsense and losing all grip on his hearers. In spite of +herself she was contrasting this fiasco with the pithy words of Mr. +Stocks. When the meeting became unruly she looked for some display of +character, some proof of power. Mr. Stocks would have fiercely cowed +the opposition, or at least have spoken the last word in any quarrel. +Lewis’s conduct was different. He shrugged his shoulders, made some +laughing remark to a friend on the platform, and with all the +nonchalance in the world asked the meeting if they wished to hear any +more. A claque of his supporters replied with feigned enthusiasm, but a +malcontent at Alice’s side rose and stamped to the door. “I came to +hear sense,†he cried, “and no this bairn’s-blethers!â€</p> + +<p>The poor girl was in despair. She had fancied him a man of power and +ambition, a doer, a man of action. But he was no more than a creature +of words and sentiment, graceful manners, and an engaging appearance. +The despised Mr. Stocks was the real worker. She had laughed at his +incessant solemnity as the badge of a fool, and adored Lewis’s +light-heartedness as the true air of the great. But she had been +mistaken. Things were what they seemed. The light-hearted was the +half-hearted, “the wandering dilettante,†Mr. Stocks had called him, +“the worst type of the pseudo-culture of our universities.†She told +herself she hated the whole affectation of breeding and chivalry. Those +men—Lewis and his friends—were always kind and soft-spoken to her and +her sex. Her soul hated it; she cried aloud for equal treatment, for a +share of the iron and rigour of life. Their manners were a mere cloak +for contempt. If they could only be rude to a woman, it would be a +welcome relief from this facile condescension. What had she or any +woman with brains to do in that galley? They despised her kind, with +the scorn of sultans who chose their women-folk for looks and graces. +The thought was degrading, and a bitterness filled her heart against the +whole clique of easy aristocrats. Mr. Stocks was her true ally. To +him she was a woman, an equal; to them she was an engaging child, a +delicate toy.</p> + +<p>So far she went in her heresy, but no farther. It is a true saying that +you will find twenty heroic women before you may meet one generous one; +but Alice was not wholly without this rarest of qualities. The memory +of a frank voice, very honest grey eyes, and a robust cheerfulness +brought back some affection for the erring Lewis. The problem was +beyond her reconciling efforts, so the poor girl, torn between common +sense and feeling, and recognizing with painful clearness the complexity +of life, found refuge in secret tears.</p> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> honours of the contest, so far as Lewis’s party was concerned, fell +to George Winterham, and this was the fashion of the event. He had been +dragged reluctantly into the thing, foreseeing dire disaster for +himself, for he knew little and cared less about matters political, +though he was ready enough at a pinch to place his ignorance at his +friend’s disposal. So he had been set to the dreary work of +committee-rooms; and then, since his manners were not unpleasing, +dispatched as aide-de-camp to any chance orator who enlivened the +county. But at last a crisis arrived in which other use was made of +him. A speaker of some pretensions had been announced for a certain +night at the considerable village of Allerfoot. The great man failed, +and as it was the very eve of the election none could be found for his +place. Lewis was in despair, till he thought of George. It was a +desperate chance, but the necessity was urgent, so, shutting himself up +for an hour, he wrote the better part of a speech which he entrusted to +his friend to prepare. George, having a good memory, laboriously +learned it by heart, and clutching the friendly paper and +whole-heartedly abusing his chief, he set out grimly to his fate.</p> + +<p>Promptly at the hour of eight he was deposited at the door of the +Masonic Hail in Allerfoot. The place seemed full, and a nervous +chairman was hovering around the gate. News of the great man’s +defection had already been received, and he was in the extremes of +nervousness. He greeted George as a saviour, and led him inside, where +some three hundred people crowded a small whitewashed building. The +village of Allerfoot itself is a little place, but it is the centre of a +wide pastoral district, and the folk assembled were brown-faced herds +and keepers from the hills, plough-men from the flats of Glen Aller, a +few fishermen from the near sea-coast, as well as the normal inhabitants +of the village.</p> + +<p>George was wretchedly nervous and sat in a cold sweat while the chairman +explained that the great Mr. S—— deeply regretted that at the last +moment he was unfortunately compelled to break so important an +engagement, but that he had sent in his stead Mr. George Winterham, +whose name was well known as a distinguished Oxford scholar and a rising +barrister. George, who had been ploughed twice for Smalls and had +eventually taken a pass degree, and to whom the law courts were nearly +as unknown as the Pyramids, groaned inwardly at the astounding news. +The audience might have been a turnip field for all the personality it +possessed for him. He heard their applause as the chairman sat down +mopping his brow, and he rose to his feet conscious that he was smiling +like an idiot. He made some introductory remarks of his own—that “he +was sorry the other chap hadn’t turned up, that he was happy to have the +privilege of expounding to them his views on this great subject “—and +then with an ominous sinking of heart plucked forth his papers and +launched into the unknown.</p> + +<p>The better part of the speech was wiped clean from his memory at the +start, so he had to lean heavily on the written word. He read rapidly +but without intelligence. Now and again a faint cheer would break the +even flow, and he would look up for a moment with startled eyes, only to +go off again with quickened speed. He found himself talking neat +paradoxes which he did not understand, and speaking glibly of names +which to him were no more than echoes. Eventually he came to an end at +least twenty minutes before a normal political speech should close, and +sat down, hot and perplexed, with a horrible sense of having made a fool +of himself.</p> + +<p>The chairman, no less perplexed, made the usual remarks and then called +for questions, for the time had to be filled in somehow. The words left +George aghast. The wretched man looked forward to raw public shame. +His ignorance would be exposed, his presumption laid bare, his pride +thrown in the dust. He nerved himself for a despairing effort. He +would brazen things out as far as possible; afterwards, let the heavens +fall.</p> + +<p>An old minister rose and asked in a thin ancient voice what the +Government had done for the protection of missionaries in +Khass-Kotannun. Was he, Mr. Winterham, aware that our missionaries in +that distant land had been compelled to wear native dress by the +arrogant chiefs, and so fallen victims to numerous chills and epidemics?</p> + +<p>George replied that he considered the treatment abominable, believed +that the matter occupied the mind of the Foreign Office night and day, +and would be glad personally to subscribe to any relief fund. The good +man declared himself satisfied, and St. Sebastian breathed freely +again.</p> + +<p>A sturdy man in homespun rose to discover the Government’s intention on +Church matters. Did the speaker ken that on his small holding he paid +ten pound sterling in tithes, though he himself did not hold with the +Establishment, being a Reformed Presbyterian? The Laodicean George said +he did not understand the differences, but that it seemed to him a +confounded shame, and he would undertake that Mr. Haystoun, if +returned, would take immediate steps in the matter.</p> + +<p>So far he had done well, but with the next question he betrayed his +ignorance. A good man arose, also hot on Church affairs, to discourse +on some disabilities, and casually described himself as a U.P. George’s +wits busied themselves in guessing at the mystic sign. At last to his +delight he seemed to achieve it, and, in replying, electrified his +audience by assuming that the two letters stood for Unreformed +Presbyterian.</p> + +<p>But the meeting was in good humour in spite of his incomprehensible +address and unsatisfying answers, till a small section of the young +bloods of the opposite party, who had come to disturb, felt that this +peace must be put an end to. Mr. Samuel M’Turk, lawyer’s clerk, who +hailed from the west country and betrayed his origin in his speech, rose +amid some applause from his admirers to discomfit George. He was a +young man with a long, sallow face, carefully oiled and parted hair, and +a resonant taste in dress. A bundle of papers graced his hand, and his +air was parliamentary.</p> + +<p>“Wis Mister Winterham aware that Mister Haystoun had contradicted +himself on two occasions lately, as he would proceed to show?â€</p> + +<p>George heard him patiently, said that now he was aware of the fact, but +couldn’t for the life of him see what the deuce it mattered.</p> + +<p>“After Mister Winterham’s ignoring of my pint,†went on the young man, +“I proceed to show ...†and with all the calmness in the world he +displayed to his own satisfaction how Mr. Lewis Haystoun was no fit +person to represent the constituency. He profaned the Sabbath, which +this gentleman professed to hold dear, he was notorious for drunkenness, +and his conduct abroad had not been above suspicion.</p> + +<p>George was on his feet in a moment, his confusion gone, his face very +red, and his shoulders squared for a fight. The man saw the effect of +his words, and promptly sat down.</p> + +<p>“Get up,†said George abruptly.</p> + +<p>The man’s face whitened and he shrank back among his friends.</p> + +<p>“Get up; up higher—on the top of the seat, that everybody may see and +hear you! Now repeat very carefully all that over again.â€</p> + +<p>The man’s confidence had deserted him. He stammered something about +meaning no harm.</p> + +<p>“You called my friend a drunken blackguard. I am going to hear the +accusation in detail.†George stood up to his full height, a terrible +figure to the shrinking clerk, who repeated his former words with a +faltering tongue.</p> + +<p>He heard him out quietly, and then stared coolly down on the people. He +felt himself master of the situation. The enemy had played into his +hands, and in the shape of a sweating clerk sat waiting on his action.</p> + +<p>“You have heard what this man has to tell you. I ask you as men, as +folk of this countryside, if it is true?â€</p> + +<p>It was the real speech of the evening, which was all along waiting to be +delivered instead of the frigid pedantries on the paper. A man was +speaking simply, valiantly, on behalf of his friend. It was cunningly +done, with the natural tact which rarely deserts the truly honest man in +his hour of extremity. He spoke of Lewis as he had known him, at school +and college and in many wild sporting expeditions in desert places, and +slowly the people kindled and listened. Then, so to speak, he kicked +away the scaffolding of his erection. He ceased to be the apologist, +and became the frank eulogist. He stood squarely on the edge of the +platform, gathering the eyes of his hearers, smiling pleasantly, arms +akimbo, a man at his ease and possibly at his pleasure.</p> + +<p>“Some of you are herds,†he cried, “and some are fishers, and some are +farmers, and some are labourers. Also some of you call yourselves +Radicals or Tories or Socialists. But you are all of you far more than +these things. You are men—men of this great countryside, with blood in +your veins and vigour in that blood. If you were a set of pale-faced +mechanics, I should not be speaking to you, for I should not understand +you. But I know you all, and I like you, and I am going to prevent you +from making godless fools of yourselves. There are two men before you. +One is a very clever man, whom I don’t know anything about, nor you +either. The other is my best friend, and known to all of you. Many of +you have shot or sailed with him, many of you were born on his and his +fathers’ lands. I have told you of his abilities and quoted better +judges than myself. I don’t need to tell you that he is the best of +men, a sportsman, a kind master, a very good fellow indeed. You can +make up your mind between the two. Opinions matter very little, but +good men are too scarce to be neglected. Why, you fools,†he cried with +boisterous good humour, “I should back Lewis if he were a Mohammedan or +an Anarchist. The man is sound metal, I tell you, and that’s all I +ask.â€</p> + +<p>It was a very young man’s confession of faith, but it was enough. The +meeting went with him almost to a man. A roar of applause greeted the +smiling orator, and when he sat down with flushed face, bright eyes, and +a consciousness of having done his duty, John Sanderson, herd in Nether +Callowa, rose to move a vote of confidence:</p> + +<p>“That this assembly is of opinion that Maister Lewis Haystoun is a guid +man, and sae is our friend Maister Winterham, and we’ll send Lewie back +to Parliament or be—â€</p> + +<p>It was duly seconded and carried with acclamation.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><br /> +<small>THE PRIDE BEFORE A FALL</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> result of the election was announced in Gledsmuir on the next +Wednesday evening, and carried surprise to all save Lewis’s nearer +friends. For Mr. Albert Stocks was duly returned member for the +constituency by a majority of seventy votes. The defeated candidate +received the news with great composure, addressed some good-humoured +words to the people, had a generous greeting for his opponent, and met +his committee with a smiling face. But his heart was sick within him, +and as soon as he decently might he escaped from the turmoil, found his +horse, and set off up Glenavelin for his own dwelling.</p> + +<p>He had been defeated, and the fact, however confidently looked for, +comes with a bitter freshness to every man. He had lost a seat for his +party—that in itself was bad. But he had proved himself incompetent, +unadaptable, a stick, a pedantic incapable. A dozen stings rankled in +his soul. Alice would be justified of her suspicions. Where would his +place be now in that small imperious heart? His own people had forsaken +him for a gross and unlikely substitute, and he had been wrong in his +estimate alike of ally and enemy. Above all came that cruelest +stab—what would Wratislaw think of it? He had disgraced himself in the +eyes of his friend. He who had made a fetish of competence had +manifestly proved wanting; he who had loved to think of himself as the +bold, opportune man, had shown himself formal and hidebound.</p> + +<p>As he passed Glenavelin among the trees the thought of Alice was a sharp +pang of regret. He could never more lift his eyes in that young and +radiant presence. He pictured the successful Stocks welcomed by her, +and words of praise for which he would have given his immortal soul, +meted out lavishly to that owl-like being. It was a dismal business, +and ruefully, but half-humorously, he caught at the paradox of his fate.</p> + +<p>Through the swiftly failing darkness the inn of Etterick rose before +him, a place a little apart from the village street. A noise of talk +floated from the kitchen and made him halt at the door and dismount. +The place would be full of folk discussing the election, and he would go +in among them and learn the worst opinion which men might have of him. +After all, they were his own people, who had known him in his power as +they now saw him in his weakness. If he had failed he was not wholly +foolish; they knew his few redeeming virtues, and they would be +generous.</p> + +<p>The talk stopped short as he entered, and he saw through the tobacco +reek half a dozen lengthy faces wearing the air of solemnity which the +hillman adopts in his pleasures. They were all his own herds and +keepers, save two whom he knew for foresters from Glenavelin. He was +recognized at once, and with a general nervous shuffling they began to +make room for the laird at the table. He cried a hasty greeting to all, +and sat down between a black-bearded giant, whose clothes smelt of +sheep, and a red-haired man from one of the remoter glens. The notion +of the thing pleased him, and he ordered drinks for each with a lavish +carelessness. He asked for a match for his pipe, and the man who gave +it wore a decent melancholy on his face and shook his head with unction.</p> + +<p>“This is a bad job, Lewie,†he said, using the privileged name of the +ancient servant. “Whae would have ettled sic a calaamity to happen in +your ain countryside? We a’ thocht it would be a grand pioy for ye, for +ye would settle down here and hae nae mair foreign stravaigins. And +then this tailor body steps in and spoils a’. It’s maist vexaatious.â€</p> + +<p>“It was a good fight, and he beat me fairly; but we’ll drop the matter. +I’m sick—tired of politics, Adam. If I had been a better man they +might have made a herd of me, and I should have been happy.â€</p> + +<p>“Wheesht, Lewie,†said the man, grinning. “A herd’s job is no for the +likes o’ you. But there’s better wark waiting for ye than poalitics. +It’s a beggar’s trade after a’, and far better left to bagman bodies +like yon Stocks. It’s a puir thing for sac proper a man as you.â€</p> + +<p>“But what can I do?†cried Lewis in despair. “I have no profession. I +am useless.â€</p> + +<p>“Useless! Ye are a grand judge o’ sheep and nowt, and ye ken a horse +better than ony couper. Ye can ride like a jockey and drive like a +Jehu, and there’s no your equal in these parts with a gun or a +fishing-rod. Forbye, I would rather walk ae mile on the hill wi’ ye +than twae, for ye gang up a brae-face like a mawkin! God! There’s no a +single man’s trade that ye’re no brawly fitted for. And then ye’ve a +heap o’ book-lear that folk learned ye away about England, though I +cannot speak muckle on that, no being a jidge.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis grinned at the portraiture. “You do me proud. But let’s talk +about serious things. You were on sheep when I came in. Get back to +them and give me your mind on Cheviots. The lamb sales promise well.â€</p> + +<p>For twenty minutes the room hummed with technicalities. One man might +support the conversation on alien matters, but on sheep the humblest +found a voice: Lewis watched the ring of faces with a sharp delight. +The election had made him sick of his fellows—fellows who chattered and +wrangled and wallowed in the sentimental. But now every line of these +brown faces, the keen blue eyes, the tawny, tangled beards, and the +inimitable soft-sounding southern speech, seemed an earnest of a real +and strenuous life. He began to find a new savour in existence. The +sense of his flat incompetence left him, and he found himself speaking +heartily and laughing with zest.</p> + +<p>“It’s as I say,†said the herd of the Redswirebead. “I’m getting an +auld man and a verra wise ane, and the graund owercome for the world is +just ‘Pay no attention.’ Ye’ll has heard how the word cam’ to be. It +was Jock Linklater o’ the Caulds wha was glen notice to quit by the +laird, and a’ the countryside was vexed to pairt wi’ Jock, for he was a +popular character. But about a year after a friend meets him at +Gledsmuir merkit as crouse as ever. ‘Lodsake, Jock, man, I thocht ye +were awa’,’ says he. ‘No,’ says Jock, ‘no. I’m here as ye see.’ ‘But +how did ye manage it?’ he asked. ‘Fine,’ says Jock. ‘They sent me a +letter tellin’ me I must gang; but I just payed no attention. Syne they +sent me a blue letter frae the lawyer’s, but I payed no attention. Syne +the factor cam’ to see me.’ ‘Ay, and what did ye do then, Jock?’ says +he. ‘Oh, I payed no attention. Syne the laird cam’ himsel.’ ‘Ay, that +would fricht ye,’ he says. ‘No, no a grain,’ said Jock, verra calm. ‘I +just payed no attention, and here I am.’â€</p> + +<p>Lewis laughed, but the rest of the audience suffered no change of +feature. The gloaming had darkened, and the little small-paned window +was a fretted sheet of dark and lucent blue. Grateful odours of food +and drink and tobacco hung in the air, though tar and homespun and the +far-carried fragrance of peat fought stoutly for the mastery.</p> + +<p>One man fell to telling of a fox-hunt, when he lay on the hill for the +night and shot five of the destroyers of his flock before the morning, +it was the sign—and the hour—for stories of many kinds—tales of +weather and adventure, humorous lowland escapades and dismal mountain +realities. Or stranger still, there would come the odd, half-believed +legends of the glen, told shamefully yet with the realism of men for +whom each word had a power and meaning far above fiction. Lewis +listened entranced, marking his interest now by an exclamation, and +again by a question.</p> + +<p>The herd of Farawa told of the salmon, the king of the Aller salmon, who +swam to the head of Aller and then crossed the spit of land to the head +of Callowa to meet the king of the Callowa fish. It was a humorous +story, and was capped there and then by his cousin of the Dreichill, who +told a ghastly tale of a murder in the wilds. Then a lonely man, Simon +o’ the Heid o’ the Hope, glorified his powers on a January night when he +swung himself on a flood-gate over the Aller while the thing quivered +beneath him, and the water roared redly above his thighs.</p> + +<p>“And that yett broke when I was three pairts ower, and I went down the +river with my feet tangled in the bars and nae room for sweemin’. But I +gripped an oak-ritt and stelled mysel’ for an hour till the water +knockit the yett to sawdust. It broke baith my ankles, and though I’m a +mortal strong man in my arms, thae twisted kitts keepit me helpless. +When a man’s feet are broke he has nae strength in his wrist.â€</p> + +<p>“I know,†said Lewis, with excitement. “I have found the same myself.â€</p> + +<p>“Where?†asked the man, without rudeness.</p> + +<p>“Once on the Skifso when I was after salmon, and once in the Doorab +hills above Abjela.â€</p> + +<p>“Were ye sick when they rescued ye? I was. I had twae muscles sprung +on my arm, but that was naething to the retching and dizziness when they +laid me on the heather. Jock Jeffrey was bending ower me, and though he +wasna touching me I began to suffocate, and yet I was ower weak to cry +out and had to thole it.â€</p> + +<p>“I know. If you hang up in the void for a little and get the feeling of +great space burned on your mind, you nearly die of choking when you are +pulled up. Fancy you knowing about that.â€</p> + +<p>“Have you suffered it, Maister Lewie?†said the man.</p> + +<p>“Once. There was a gully in the Doorabs just like the Scarts o’ the +Muneraw, only twenty times deeper, and there was a bridge of tree-trunks +bound with ropes across it. We all got over except one mule and a +couple of men. They were just getting off when a trunk slipped and +dangled down into the abyss with one end held up by the ropes. The poor +animal went plumb to the bottom; we heard it first thud on a jag of rock +and then, an age after, splash in the water. One of the men went with +it, but the other got his legs caught between the ropes and the tree and +managed to hang on. The poor beggar was helpless with fright; and he +squealed—great heavens! how he did squeal!â€</p> + +<p>“And what did ye dae?†asked a breathless audience.</p> + +<p>“I went down after him. I had to, for I was his master, and besides, I +was a bit of an athlete then. I cried to him to hang on and not look +down. I clambered down the swaying trunk while my people held the ropes +at the top, and when I got near the man I saw what had happened.</p> + +<p>“He had twisted his ankles in the fall, and though he had got them out +of the ropes, yet they hung loose and quite obviously broken. I got as +near him as I could, and leaned over, and I remember seeing through +below his armpits the blue of the stream six hundred feet down. It made +me rather sick with my job, and when I called him to pull himself up a +bit till I could grip him I thought he was helpless with the same +fright. But it turned out that I had misjudged him. He had no power in +his arms, simply the dead strength to hang on. I was in a nice fix, for +I could lower myself no farther without slipping into space. Then I +thought of a dodge. I got a good grip of the rope and let my legs +dangle down till they were level with his hands. I told him to try and +change his grip and catch my ankles. He did it, somehow or other, and +by George! the first shock of his weight nearly ended me, for he was a +heavy man. However, I managed to pull myself up a yard or two and then +I could reach down and catch his arms. We both got up somehow or other, +but it took a devilish time, and when they laid us both on the ground +and came round like fools with brandy I thought I should choke and had +scarcely strength to swear at them to get out.â€</p> + +<p>The assembly had listened intently, catching its breath with a sharp +<i>risp</i> as all outdoor folks will do when they hear of an escapade which +strikes their fancy. One man—a stranger—hammered his empty pipe-bowl +on the table in applause.</p> + +<p>“Whae was the man, d’ye say?†he asked. “A neeger?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis laughed. “Not a nigger most certainly, though he had a brown +face.â€</p> + +<p>“And ye risked your life for a black o’ some kind? Man, ye must be +awfu’ fond o’ your fellow men. Wad ye dae the same for the likes o’ us?</p> + +<p>“Surely. For one of my own folk! But it was really a very small +thing.â€</p> + +<p>“Then I have just ae thing to say,†said the brown-bearded man. “I am +what ye cal a Raadical, and yestreen I recorded my vote for yon man +Stocks. He crackit a lot about the rights o’ man—as man, and I was wi’ +him. But I tell ye that you yoursel’ have a better notion o’ human +kindness than ony Stocks, and though ye’re no o’ my party, yet I +herewith propose a vote o’ confidence in Maister Lewis Haystoun.â€</p> + +<p>The health was drunk solemnly yet with gusto, and under cover of it +Lewis fled out of doors. His despondency had passed, and a fit of +fierce exhilaration had seized him. Men still swore by his name; he was +still loved by his own folk; small matter to him if a townsman had +defeated him. He was no vain talker, but a doer, a sportsman, an +adventurer. This was his true career. Let others have the applause of +excited indoor folk or dull visionaries; for him a man’s path, a man’s +work, and a man’s commendation.</p> + +<p>The moon was up, riding high in a shoreless sea of blue, and in the +still weather the streams called to each other from the mountain sides, +as in some fantastic cosmic harmony. High on the ridge shoulder the +lights of Etterick twinkled starlike amid the fretted veil of trees. A +sense of extraordinary and crazy exhilaration, the recoil from the +constraint of weeks, laid hold on his spirit. He hummed a dozen +fragments of song, and at times would laugh with the pure pleasure of +life. The quixotic, the generous, the hopeless, the successful; +laughter and tears; death and birth; the warm hearth and the open +road—all seemed blent for the moment into one great zest for living. +“I’ll to Lochiel and Appin and kneel to them,†he was humming aloud, +when suddenly his bridle was caught and a man’s hand was at his knee.</p> + +<p>“Lewie,†cried Wratislaw, “gracious, man! have you been drinking?†And +then seeing the truth, he let go the bridle, put an arm through the +stirrup leathers, and walked by the horse’s side. “So that’s the way +you take it, old chap? Do you know that you are a discredited and +defeated man? and yet I find you whistling like a boy. I have hopes +for you, Lewie. You have the Buoyant Heart, and with that nothing can +much matter. But, confound it! you are hours late for dinner.â€</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><br /> +<small>PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> news of the election, brought to Glenavelin by a couple of ragged +runners, had a different result from that forecast by Lewis. Alice +heard it with a heart unquickened; and when, an hour after, the flushed, +triumphant Mr. Stocks arrived in person to claim the meed of success, +he was greeted with a painful carelessness. Lady Manorwater had been +loud in her laments for her nephew, but to Mr. Stocks she gave the +honest praise which a warm-hearted woman cannot withhold from the +fighter.</p> + +<p>“Our principles have won,†she cried. “Now who will call the place a +Tory stronghold? Oh, Mr. Stocks, you have done wonderfully, and I am +very glad. I’m not a bit sorry for Lewis, for he well deserved his +beating.â€</p> + +<p>But with Alice there could be neither pleasure nor its simulation. Her +terrible honesty forbade her the easy path of false congratulations. +She bit her lip till tears filled her eyes. What was this wretched +position into which she had strayed? Lewis was all she had feared, but +he was Lewis, and far more than any bundle of perfections. A hot, +passionate craving for his presence was blinding her to reason. And +this man who had won—this, the fortunate politician—she cared for him +not a straw. A strong dislike began to grow in her heart to the +blameless Mr. Stocks.</p> + +<p>Dinner that night was a weary meal to the girl. Lady Manorwater +prattled about the day’s events, and Lord Manorwater, hopelessly bored, +ate his food in silence. The lively Bertha had gone to bed with a +headache, and the younger Miss Afflint was the receptacle for the moment +of her hostess’s confidences. Alice sat between Mr. Stocks and Arthur, +facing a tall man with a small head and immaculate hair who had ridden +over to dine and sleep. One of the two had the wisdom to see her humour +and keep silent, though the thought plunged him into a sea of ugly +reflections. It would be hard if, now that things were going well with +him, the lady alone should prove obdurate. For in all this politician’s +daydreams a dainty figure walked by his side, sat at his table’s head, +received his friends, fascinated austere ministers, and filled his pipe +of an evening at home.</p> + +<p>Arthur was silent, and to him the lady turned in vain. He treated her +with an elaborate politeness which sat ill on his brusque manners, and +for the most part showed no desire to enliven the prevailing dulness. +But after dinner he carried her off to the gardens on the plea of fresh +air and a fine sunset, and the girl, who liked the boy, went gladly. +Then the reason of his silence was made plain. He dismayed her by +becoming lovesick.</p> + +<p>“Tell me your age, Alice,†he implored.</p> + +<p>“I am twenty at Christmas time,†said the girl, amazed at the question.</p> + +<p>“And I am seventeen or very nearly that. Men sometimes marry women +older than themselves, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Oh, Alice, +promise that you will marry me. I never met a girl I liked so much, and +I am sure we should be happy.â€</p> + +<p>“I am sure we should,†said the girl, laughing. “You silly boy! what +put such nonsense in your head? I am far too old for you, and though I +like you very much, I don’t in the least want to marry you.†She seemed +to herself to have got out of a sober world into a sort of Mad +Tea-party, where people behaved like pantaloons and spoke in conundrums.</p> + +<p>The boy flushed and his eyes grew cross. “Is it somebody else?†he +asked; at which the girl, with a memory of Mr. Stocks, reflected on the +dreadful monotony of men’s ways.</p> + +<p>A solution flashed upon his brain. “Are you going to marry Lewie +Haystoun?†he cried in a more cheerful voice. After all, Lewis was his +cousin, and a worthy rival.</p> + +<p>Alice grew hotly uncomfortable. “I am not going to marry Mr. Lewis +Haystoun, and I am not going to talk to you any more.†And she turned +round with a flaming face to the cool depths of the wood.</p> + +<p>“Then it is that fellow Stocks. Oh, Lord!†groaned Arthur, irritated +into bad manners. “You can’t mean it, Alice. He’s not fit to black +your boots.â€</p> + +<p>Some foolish impulse roused the girl to reply. She defended the very +man against whom all the evening she had been unreasonably bitter. “You +have no right to abuse him. He is your people’s guest and a very +distinguished man, and you are only a foolish boy.â€</p> + +<p>He paled below his sunburn. Now he believed the truth of the horrid +suspicion which had been fastening on his mind. “But—but,†he +stammered, “the chap isn’t a gentleman, you know.â€</p> + +<p>The words quickened her vexation. A gentleman! The cant word, the +fetish of this ring of idle aristocrats—she knew the hollowness of the +whole farce. The democrat in her made her walk off with erect head and +bright eyes, leaving a penitent boy behind; while all the time a sick, +longing heart drove her to the edge of tears.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The days dragged slowly for the girl. The brightness had gone out of +the wide, airy landscape, and the warm August days seemed chill. She +hated herself for the wrong impression she had left on the boy Arthur’s +mind, but she was too proud to seek to erase it; she could but trust to +his honour for silence. If Lewis heard—the thought was too terrible to +face! He would resign himself to the inevitable; she knew the temper of +the man. Good form was his divinity, and never by word or look would he +attempt to win another man’s betrothed. She must see him and learn the +truth: but he came no more to Glenavelin, and Etterick was a far cry for +a girl’s fancy. Besides, the Twelfth had come and the noise of guns on +every hill spoke of other interests for the party at Etterick. Lewis +had forgotten his misfortunes, she told herself, and in the easy way of +the half-hearted found in bodily fatigue a drug for a mind but little in +need of it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>One afternoon Lady Manorwater came over the lawn waving a letter. “Do +you want to go and picnic to-morrow, Alice?†she cried. “Lewis is to +be shooting on the moors at the head of the Avelin, and he wants us to +come and lunch at the Pool of Ness. He wants the whole party to come, +particularly Mr. Stocks, and he wants to know if you have forgiven him. +What can the boy mean?â€</p> + +<p>As the cheerful little lady paused, Alice’s heart beat till she feared +betrayal. A sudden fierce pleasure burned in her veins. Did he still +seek her good opinion? Was he, as well as herself, miserable alone? +And then came like a stab the thought that he had joined her with +Stocks. Did he class her with that alien world of prigs and dullards? +She ceased to think, and avoiding her hostess and tea, ran over the +wooden bridge to the slope of hill and climbed up among the red heather.</p> + +<p>A month ago she had been heart-whole and young, a simple child. The +same prejudices and generous beliefs had been hers, but held loosely +with a child’s comprehension. But now this old world had been awakened +to arms against a dazzling new world of love and pleasure. She was led +captive by emotion, but the cold rook of scruple remained. She had read +of women surrendering all for love, but she felt dismally that this +happy gift had been denied her. Criticism, a fierce, vulgar antagonism, +impervious to sentiment, not to be exorcised by generous impulse—such +was her unlovely inheritance.</p> + +<p>As she leaned over a pool of clear brown water in a little burn, where +scented ferns dipped and great rocks of brake and heather shadowed, she +saw her face and figure mirrored in every colour and line. Her +extraordinary prettiness delighted her, and then she laughed at her own +vanity. A lady of the pools, with the dark eyes and red-gold hair of +the north, surely a creature of dawn and the blue sky, and born for no +dreary self-communings. She returned, with her eyes clear and something +like laughter in her heart. To-morrow she should see him, to-morrow!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was the utter burning silence of midday, when the man who toils loses +the skin of his face, and the man who rests tastes the joys of deep +leisure. The blue, airless sky, the level hilltops, the straight lines +of glen, the treeless horizon of the moors—no sharp ridge or cliff +caught the tired eye, only an even, sleep-lulled harmony. Five very +hungry, thirsty, and wearied men lay in the shadow above the Pool of +Ness, and prayed heaven for luncheon.</p> + +<p>Lewis and George, Wratislaw and Arthur Mordaunt were there, and Doctor +Gracey, who loved a day on the hills. The keepers sat farther up the +slope smoking their master’s tobacco—sure sign of a well-spent morning. +For the party had been on the moors by eight, and for five burning hours +had tramped the heather. All wore light and airy shooting-clothes save +the doctor, who had merely buckled gaiters over his professional black +trousers. All were burned to a tawny brown, and all lay in different +attitudes of gasping ease. Few things so clearly proclaim a man’s past +as his posture when lounging. Arthur and Wratislaw lay, like townsmen, +prone on their faces with limbs rigidly straight. Lewis and George—old +campaigners both—lay a little on the side, arms lying loosely, and +knees a little bent. But one and all gasped, and swore softly at the +weather.</p> + +<p>“Turn round, Tommy,†said George, glancing up, “or you’ll get sunstroke +at the back of the neck. I’ve had it twice, so I ought to know. You +want to wet your handkerchief and put it below your cap. Why don’t you +wear a deer-stalker instead of that hideous jockey thing? Feugh, I am +warm and cross and thirsty. Lewis, I’ll give your aunt five minutes, +and then I shall go down and drink that pool dry.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis sat up and watched the narrow ribbon of road which coiled up the +glen to the pool’s edge. He only saw some hundreds of yards down it, +but the prospect served to convince him that his erratic aunt was late.</p> + +<p>“If my wishes had any effect,†said George, “at this moment I should be +having iced champagne.†And he cast a longing eye to the hampers.</p> + +<p>“You won’t get any,†said Lewis. “We are not sybarites in this +glen, and our drinks are the drinks of simple folk. Do you +remember Cranstoun? I once went stalking with him, and we had +<i>pate-de-foie-gras</i> for luncheon away up on the side of a rugged +mountain. That sort of thing sets my teeth on edge.â€</p> + +<p>“Honest man!†cried George. “But here are your friends, and you had +better stir yourself and make them welcome.â€</p> + +<p>Five very cool and leisurely beings were coming up the hill-path, for, +having driven to above the village, they had had an easy walk of +scarcely half a mile. Lewis’s eye sought out a slight figure behind the +others, a mere gleam of pink and white. As she stepped out from the +path to the heather his eye was quick to seize her exquisite grace. +Other women arrayed themselves in loose and floating raiment, ribbons +and what not; but here was one who knew her daintiness, and made no +effort to cloak it. Trim, cool, and sweet, the coils of bright hair +above the white frock catching the noon sun—surely a lady to pray for +and toil for, one made for no facile wooing or easy conquest.</p> + +<p>Lewis advanced to Mr. Stocks as soon as he had welcomed his aunt, and +shook hands cordially. “We seem to have lost sight of each other during +the last few days. I never congratulated you enough, but you probably +understood that my head was full of other things. You fought +splendidly, and I can’t say I regret the issue. You will do much better +than I ever could.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks smiled happily. The wheel of his fortunes was bringing him +very near the top. All the way up he had had Alice for a companion; and +that young woman, happy from a wholly different cause, had been +wonderfully gracious. He felt himself on Mr. Lewis Haystoun’s level at +last, and the baffling sense of being on a different plane, which he had +always experienced in his company, was gone, he hoped, for ever. So he +became frank and confidential, forgot the pomp of his talk and his +inevitable principles, and assisted in laying lunch.</p> + +<p>Lady Manorwater drove her nephew into a corner.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been, Lewis, all these days? If you had been anybody +else, I should have said you were sulking. I must speak to you +seriously. Do you know that Alice has been breaking her heart for you? +I won’t have the poor child made miserable, and though I don’t in the +least want you to marry her, yet; I cannot have you playing with her.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis had grown suddenly very red.</p> + +<p>“I think you are mistaken,†he said stiffly. “Miss Wishart does not +care a straw for me. If she is in love with anybody, it is with +Stocks.â€</p> + +<p>“I am much older than you, my dear, and I should know better. I may as +well confess that I hoped it would be Mr. Stocks, but I can’t +disbelieve my own eyes. The child becomes wretched whenever she hears +your name.â€</p> + +<p>“You are making me miserably unhappy, because I can’t believe a word of +it. I have made a howling fool of myself lately, and I can’t be blind +to what she thinks of me.â€</p> + +<p>Lady Manorwater looked pathetic. “Is the great Lewis ashamed of +himself?â€</p> + +<p>“Not a bit. I would do it again, for it is my nature to, as the hymn +says. I am cut all the wrong way, and my mind is my mind, you know. +But I can’t expect Miss Wishart to take that point of view.â€</p> + +<p>His aunt shook a hopeless head. “Your moral nature is warped, my dear. +It has always been the same since you were a very small boy at +Glenavelin, and read the Holy War on the hearthrug. You could never be +made to admire Emmanuel and his captains, but you set your heart on the +reprobates Jolly and Griggish. But get away and look after your guests, +sir.â€</p> + +<p>Lunch came just in time to save five hungry men from an undignified end. +The Glenavelin party looked on with amusement as the ravenous appetites +were satisfied. Mr. Stocks, in a huge good humour, talked discursively +of sport. He inquired concerning the morning’s bag, and called up +reminiscences of friends who had equalled or exceeded it. Lewis was +uncomfortable, for he felt that in common civility Mr. Stocks should +have been asked to shoot. He could not excuse himself with the plea of +an unintentional omission, for he had heard reports of the gentleman’s +wonderful awkwardness with a gun, and he had not found it in his heart +to spoil the sport of five keen and competent hands.</p> + +<p>He dared not look at Alice, for his aunt’s words had set his pulses +beating hotly. For the last week he had wrestled with himself, telling +his heart that this lady was beyond his ken for ever and a day, for he +belonged by nature to the clan of despondent lovers. Before, she had +had all the icy reserve, he all the fervours. The hint of some spark of +fire behind the snows of her demeanour filled him with a delirious joy. +Every movement of her body pleased him, every word which she spoke, the +blitheness of her air and the ready kindness. The pale, pretty Afflint +girls, with their wit and their confidence, seemed old and womanly +compared with Alice. Let simplicity be his goddess +henceforth—simplicity and youth.</p> + +<p>The Pool of Ness is a great, black cauldron of clear water, with berries +above and berries below, and high crags red with heather. There you may +find shade in summer, and great blaeberries and ripening rowans in the +wane of August. These last were the snare for Alice, who was ever an +adventurer. For the moment she was the schoolgirl again, and all sordid +elderly cares were tossed to the wind. She teased Doctor Gracey to that +worthy’s delight, and she bade George and Arthur fetch and carry in a +way that made them her slaves for life. Then she unbent to Mr. Stocks +and made him follow her out on a peninsula of rock, above which hung a +great cluster of fruit. The unfortunate politician was not built for +this kind of exercise, and slipped and clung despairingly to every root +and cleft. Lewis followed aimlessly: her gaiety did not fit with his +mood; and he longed to have her to himself and know his fortune.</p> + +<p>He passed the panting Stocks and came up with the errant lady.</p> + +<p>“For heaven’s sake be careful, Miss Wishart,†he cried in alarm. +“That’s an ugly black swirl down there.â€</p> + +<p>The girl laughed in his face.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t the place glorious!†she cried. “It’s as cool as winter, and +oh! the colours of that hillside. I’m going up to that birk-tree to +sit. Do you think I can do it?â€</p> + +<p>“I am coming up after you,†said Lewis.</p> + +<p>She stopped and regarded it with serious eyes. “It’s hard, but I’m +going to try. It’s harder than the Midburn that I climbed up on the +day I saw you fishing.â€</p> + +<p>She remembered! Joy caught at his heart, and he laughed so gladly that +Alice turned round to look at him. Something in his eyes made her turn +her head away and scan the birk-tree again.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly there was a slip of soil, a helpless clutch at fern and +heather, a cry of terror, and he was alone on the headland. The black +swirl was closing over the girl’s head.</p> + +<p>He had been standing rapt in a happy fancy, his thoughts far in a world +of their own, and his eyes vacant of any purpose. Startled to +alertness, he still saw vaguely, and for a second stood irresolute and +wondering. Then came another splash, and a heavy body flung itself into +the pool from lower down the rock. He knew the black head and the round +shoulders of Mr. Stocks.</p> + +<p>The man caught the girl as she struggled to get out of the swirl and +with strong ugly strokes began to make for shore. Lewis stood with a +sick heart, slow to realize the horror which had overtaken him. She was +out of danger, though the man was swimming badly; dismally he noted the +fact of his atrocious swimming. But this was the hero; he had stood +irresolute. The thought burned him like a hot iron.</p> + +<p>Half a dozen pairs of hands relieved the swimmer of his burden. Alice +was little the worse, a trifle pale, very draggled and unhappy, and +utterly tired. Lady Manorwater wept over her and kissed her, and hailed +the dripping Stocks as her preserver. Lewis alone stood back. He +satisfied himself that she was unhurt, and then, on the plea of getting +the carriage, set off down the glen with a very grey, quivering face.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><br /> +<small>THE PLEASURES OF A CONSCIENCE</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">I<small>T</small> was half-way down the glen that the full ignominy of his position +came on Lewis with the shock of a thunder-clap. A hateful bitterness +against her preserver and the tricks of fate had been his solitary +feeling, till suddenly he realized the part he had played, and saw +himself for a naked coward. Coward he called himself—without +reflection; for in such a moment the mind thinks in crude colours and +bold lines of division. He set his teeth in his lip, and with a heart +sinking at the shameful thought stalked into the farm stables where the +Glenavelin servants were.</p> + +<p>He could not return to the Pool. Alice was little hurt, so anxiety was +needless; better let him leave Mr. Stocks to enjoy his heroics in +peace. He would find an excuse; meanwhile, give him quiet and solitude +to digest his bitterness. He cursed himself for the unworthiness of his +thoughts. What a pass had he come to when he grudged a little <i>kudos</i> +to a rival, grudged it churlishly, childishly. He flung from him the +self-reproach. Other people would wonder at his ungenerousness, and his +sulky ill-nature. They would explain by the first easy discreditable +reason. What cared he for their opinion when he knew the far greater +shame in his heart?</p> + +<p>For as he strode up the woodland path to Etterick the wrappings of +surface passion fell off from his view of the past hour, and he saw the +bald and naked ribs of his own incapacity. It was a trivial incident to +the world, but to himself a momentous self-revelation. He was a +dreamer, a weakling, a fool. He had hesitated in a crisis, and another +had taken his place. A thousand incidents of ready courage in past +sport and travel were forgotten, and on this single slip the terrible +indictment was founded. And the reason is at hand; this weakness had at +last drawn near to his life’s great passion.</p> + +<p>He found a deserted house, but its solitude was too noisy for his +unrest. Bidding the butler tell his friends that he had gone up the +hill, he crossed the sloping lawns and plunged into the thicket of +rhododendrons. Soon he was out on the heather, with the great slopes, +scorched with the heat, lying still and fragrant before him. He felt +sick and tired, and flung himself down amid the soft brackens.</p> + +<p>It was the man’s first taste of bitter mental anguish. Hitherto his +life had been equable and pleasant; his friends had adored him; the +world had flattered him; he had been at peace with his own soul. He had +known his failings, but laughed at them cavalierly; he stood on a +different platform from the struggling, conscience-stricken herd. Now +he had in very truth been flung neck and crop from the pedestal of his +self-esteem; and he lay groaning in the dust of abasement.</p> + +<p>Wratislaw guessed with a friend’s instinct his friend’s disquietude, and +turned his steps to the hill when he had heard the butler’s message. He +had known something of Lewis’s imaginary self-upbraidings, and he was +prepared for them, but he was not prepared for the grey and wretched +face in the lee of the pinewood. A sudden suspicion that Lewis had been +guilty of some real dishonour flashed across his mind for the moment, +only to be driven out with scorn.</p> + +<p>“Lewie, my son, what the deuce is wrong with you?†he cried.</p> + +<p>The other looked at him with miserable eyes.</p> + +<p>“I am beginning to find out my rottenness.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw laughed in spite of himself. “What a fool to go making +psychological discoveries on such a day! Is it all over the little +misfortune at the pool?â€</p> + +<p>Tragedy grew in Lewis’s eyes. “Don’t laugh, old chap. You don’t know +what I did. I let her fall into the water, and then I stood staring and +let another man—the other man—save her.â€</p> + +<p>“Well, and what about that? He had a better chance than you. You +shouldn’t grudge him his good fortune.â€</p> + +<p>“Good Lord, man, you don’t think it’s that that’s troubling me! I felt +murderous, but it wasn’t on his account.â€</p> + +<p>“Why not?†asked the older man drily. “You love the girl, and he’s in +the running with you. What more?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis groaned. “How can I talk about loving her when my love is such a +trifling thing that it doesn’t nerve me to action? I tell you I love +her body and soul. I live for her. The whole world is full of her. +She is never a second out of my thoughts. And yet I am so little of a +man that I let her come near death and never try to save her.â€</p> + +<p>“But, confound it, man, it may have been mere absence of mind. You were +always an extraordinarily plucky chap.†Wratislaw spoke irritably, for +it seemed to him sheer folly.</p> + +<p>Lewis looked at him imploringly. “Can you not understand?†he cried.</p> + +<p>Wratislaw did understand, and suddenly. The problem was subtler than he +had thought. Weakness was at the core of it, weakness revealed in +self-deception and self-accusation alike, the weakness of the finical +dreamer, the man with the unrobust conscience. But the weakness which +Lewis arraigned himself on was the very obvious failing of the diffident +and the irresolute. Wratislaw tried the path of boisterous +encouragement.</p> + +<p>“Get up, you old fool, and come down to the house. You a coward! You +are simply a romancer with an unfortunate knack of tragedy.†The man +must be laughed out of this folly. If he were not he would show the +self-accusing front to the world, and the Manorwaters, Alice, +Stocks—all save his chosen intimates—would credit him with a cowardice +of which he had no taint.</p> + +<p>Arthur and George, resigned now to the inevitable lady, had seen in the +incident only the anxiety of a man for his beloved, and just a hint of +the ungenerous in his treatment of Mr. Stocks. They were not prepared +for the silent tragic figure which Wratislaw brought with him.</p> + +<p>Arthur had a glint of the truth, but the obtuse George saw nothing. “Do +you know that you are going to have the Wisharts for neighbours for a +couple of months yet? Old Wishart has taken Glenavelin from the end of +August.â€</p> + +<p>This would have been pleasant hearing at another time, but now it simply +drove home the nail of his bitter reflections. Alice would be near him, +a terrible reproach—she, the devotee of strength and competence. He +could not win her, and it is characteristic of the man that he had +ceased to think of Mr. Stocks as his rival. He would lose her to no +rival; to his ragged incapacity alone would his ill fortune be due.</p> + +<p>He struggled to act the part of the cheerful host, and Wratislaw watched +his efforts grimly. He ate little at dinner, showed no desire to smoke, +and played billiards so badly that Wratislaw, an execrable player, won +the first and last game of his life. The victor took him out of doors +thereafter to walk on the moonlit, fragrant lawn.</p> + +<p>“You are taking things to heart,†said he.</p> + +<p>“And I’m blessed if I can understand you. To me it’s sheer mania.â€</p> + +<p>“And to me it’s the last link in a chain. I have suspected myself for +long, now I know myself and—ugh! the knowledge is a hideous thing.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw stood regarding his companion seriously. “I wonder what will +happen to you, Lewie. Life is serious enough without inventing a +crotchety virtue to make it miserable.â€</p> + +<p>“Can’t you understand me, Tommy? It isn’t that I’m a cad, it’s that I +am a coward. I couldn’t be a cad supposing I tried. These things are a +matter chiefly of blood and bone, and I am not made that way. But God +help me! I am a coward. I can’t fight worth twopence. Look at my +performance a fortnight ago. The ordinary gardener’s boy can beat me at +making love. I am full of generous impulses and sentiments, but what’s +the use of them? Everything grows cold and I am a dumb icicle when it +comes to action. I knew all this before, but I thought I had kept my +bodily courage. I’ve had a good enough training, and I used to have +pluck.â€</p> + +<p>“But you don’t mean to tell me that it was funk that kept you out of the +pool to-day?†cried the impatient Wratislaw.</p> + +<p>“How do I know that it wasn’t?†came the wretched answer.</p> + +<p>Wratislaw turned on his heel and made to go back.</p> + +<p>“You’re an infernal idiot, Lewie, and an infernal child. Thank heaven! +your friends know you better than you know yourself.â€</p> + +<p>The next morning it was a different man who came down to breakfast. He +had lost his haggard air, and seemed to have forgotten the night’s +episode.</p> + +<p>“Was I very rude to everybody last night?†he asked. “I have a vague +recollection of playing the fool.â€</p> + +<p>“You were particularly rude about yourself,†said Wratislaw.</p> + +<p>The young man laughed. “It’s a way I have sometimes. It’s an awkward +thing when a man’s foes are of his own household.â€</p> + +<p>The others seemed to see a catch in his mirth, a ring as of something +hollow. He opened some letters, and looked up from one with a twitching +face and a curious droop of the eyelids. “Miss Wishart is all right,†+he said. “My aunt says that she is none the worse, but that Stocks has +caught a tremendous cold. An unromantic ending!â€</p> + +<p>The meal ended, they wandered out to the lawn to smoke, and Wratislaw +found himself standing with a hand on his host’s shoulder. He noticed +something distraught in his glance and air.</p> + +<p>“Are you fit again to-day?†he asked.</p> + +<p>“Quite fit, thanks,†said Lewis, but his face belied him. He had +forgiven himself the incident of yesterday, but no proof of a non +sequitur could make him relinquish his dismal verdict. The wide morning +landscape lay green and soothing at his feet. Down in the glen men were +winning the bog-hay; up on the hill slopes they were driving lambs; the +Avelin hurried to the Gled, and beyond was the great ocean and the +infinite works of man. The whole brave bustling world was astir, little +and great ships hasting out of port, the soldier scaling the breach, the +adventurer travelling the deserts. And he, the fool, had no share in +this braggart heritage. He could not dare to look a man straight in the +face, for like the king in the old fable he had lost his soul.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><br /> +<small>A GENTLEMAN IN STRAITS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> fall of the leaf found Etterick very full of people, and new +dwellers in Glenavelin. The invitations were of old standing, but Lewis +found their fulfilment a pleasant trick of Fortune’s. To keep a +bustling household in good spirits leaves small room for brooding, and +he was famous for his hospitality. The partridges were plentiful that +year, and a rainless autumn had come on the heels of a fine summer. So +life went pleasantly with all, and the master of the place cloaked a +very sick heart under a ready good-humour.</p> + +<p>His thoughts were always on Glenavelin, and when he happened to be near +it he used to look with anxious eyes for a slim figure which was rarely +out of his fancy. He had not seen Alice since the accident, save for +one short minute, when riding from Gledsmuir he had passed her one +afternoon at the Glenavelin gates. He had earnestly desired to stop, +but his curious cowardice had made him pass with a lifted hat and a +hasty smile. Could he have looked back, he might have seen the girl +watching him out of sight with tearful eyes. To himself he was the +hopeless lover, and she the scornful lady, while she in her own eyes was +the unhappy girl for whom the soldier in the song shakes his bridle +reins and cries an eternal adieu.</p> + +<p>Matters did not improve when the Manorwaters left and Mr. Wishart +himself came down, bringing with him Stocks, a certain Mr. Andrews and +his wife, and an excellent young man called Thompson. All were pleasant +people, with the manners which the world calls hearty, well-groomed, +presentable folk, who enjoyed this life and looked forward to a better.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wishart explored the place thoroughly the first evening, and +explained that he was thankful indeed that he had been led to take it. +He was a handsome man with a worn, elderly face, a square jaw and +somewhat weary eyes. It is given to few men to make a great fortune and +not bear the signs of it on their persons.</p> + +<p>“I expect you enjoyed staying with Lady Manorwater, Alice?†Mrs. +Andrews declared at dinner. “They are very plain people, aren’t they, +to be such great aristocrats?</p> + +<p>“I suppose so,†said the girl listlessly.</p> + +<p>“I once met Lady Manorwater at Mrs. Cookson’s at afternoon tea. I +thought she was badly dressed. You know Manorwater, don’t you, George?†+said the lady to her husband, with the boldness which comes from the use +of a peer’s name without the handle.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, I know him well. I have met him at the Liberal Club dinners, +and I was his chairman once when he spoke on Irish affairs. A +delightful man!â€</p> + +<p>“I suppose they would have a pleasant house-party when you were here, my +dear?†asked the lady. “And of course you had the election. What fun! +And what a victory for you, Mr. Stocks! I hear you beat the greatest +landowner in the district.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks smiled and glanced at Alice. The girl flushed; she could +not help it; and she hated Mr. Stocks for his look.</p> + +<p>Her father spoke for the first time. “What is the young man like, Mr. +Stocks? I hear he is very proud and foolish, the sort of over-educated +type which the world has no use for.â€</p> + +<p>“I like him,†said Mr. Stocks dishonestly. “He fought like a +gentleman.â€</p> + +<p>“These people are so rarely gentlemen,†said Mrs. Andrews, proud of her +high attitude. “I suppose his father made his money in coal and bought +the land from some poor dear old aristocrat. It is so sad to think of +it. And that sort of person is always over-educated, for you see they +have not the spirit of the old families and they bury themselves in +books.†Mrs. Andrews’s father had kept a crockery shop, but his +daughter had buried the memory.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wishart frowned. The lady had been asked down for her husband’s +sake, and he did not approve of this chatter about family. Mr. Stocks, +who was about to explain the Haystoun pedigree, caught his host’s eye +and left the dangerous subject untouched.</p> + +<p>“You said in your letters that they had been kind to you at this young +man’s place. We must ask him down here to dinner, Alice. Oh, and that +reminds me I found a letter from him to-day asking me to shoot. I don’t +go in for that sort of thing, but you young fellows had better try it.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks declined, said he had given it up. Mr. Thompson said, +“Upon my word I should like to,†and privately vowed to forget the +invitation. He distrusted his prowess with a gun.</p> + +<p>“By the by, was he not at the picnic when you saved my daughter’s life? +I can never thank you enough, Stocks. What should I have done without +my small girl?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, he was there. In fact he was with Miss Alice at the moment she +slipped.â€</p> + +<p>He may not have meant it, but the imputation was clear, and it stirred +one fiery expostulation. “Oh, but he hadn’t time before Mr. Stocks +came after me,†she began, and then feeling it ungracious towards that +gentleman to make him share a possibility of heroism with another, she +was silent. More, a lurking fear which had never grown large enough for +a suspicion, began to catch at her heart. Was it possible that Lewis +had held back?</p> + +<p>For a moment the candle-lit room vanished from her eyes. She saw the +warm ledge of rock with the rowan berries above. She saw his flushed, +eager face—it was her last memory before she had fallen. Surely +never—never was there cowardice in those eyes!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Andrews’s vulgarities and her husband’s vain repetitions began to +pall upon the anxious girl. The young Mr. Thompson talked shrewdly +enough on things of business, and Mr. Stocks abated something of his +pomposity and was honestly amiable. These were her own people, the +workers for whom she had craved. And yet—were they so desirable? Her +father’s grave, keen face pleased her always, but what of the others? +The radiant gentlewomen whom she had met with the Manorwaters seemed to +belong to another world than this of petty social struggling and awkward +ostentation. And the men! Doubtless they were foolish, dilettanti, +barbarians of sport, half-hearted and unpractical! And she shut her +heart to any voice which would defend them.</p> + +<p>Lewis drove over to dine some four days later with dismal presentiments. +The same hopeless self-contempt which had hung over him for weeks was +still weighing on his soul. He dreaded the verdict of Alice’s eyes, and +in a heart which held only kindness he looked for a cold criticism. It +was this despair which made his position hopeless. He would never take +his chance; there could be no opportunity for the truth to become clear +to both; for in his plate-armour of despair he was shielded against the +world. Such was his condition to the eyes of a friend; to himself he +was the common hopeless lover who sighed for a stony mistress.</p> + +<p>He noticed changes in Glenavelin. Businesslike leather pouches stood in +the hall, and an unwontedly large pile of letters lay on a table. The +drawing-room was the same as ever, but in the dining-room an escritoire +had been established which groaned under a burden of papers. Mr. +Wishart puzzled and repelled him. It was a strong face, but a cold and +a stupid one, and his eyes had the glassy hardness of the man without +vision. He was bidden welcome, and thanked in a tactless way for his +kindness to Mr. Wishart’s daughter. Then he was presented to Mrs. +Andrews, and his courage sank as he bowed to her.</p> + +<p>At table the lady twitted him with graceful badinage. “Alice and you +must have had a gay time, Mr. Haystoun. Why, you’ve been seeing each +other constantly for months. Have you become great friends?†She +exerted herself, for, though he might be a parvenu, he was undeniably +handsome.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks explained that Mr. Haystoun had organized wonderful picnic +parties. The lady clapped her many-ringed hands, and declared that he +must repeat the experiment. “For I love picnics,†she said, “I love the +simplicity and the fresh air and the rippling streams. And washing up +is fun, and it is such a great chance for you young men.†And she cast a +coy glance over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Do you live far off, Mr. Haystoun?†she asked repeatedly. “Four +miles? Oh, that’s next door. We shall come and see you some day. We +have just been staying with the Marshams—Mr. Marsham, you know, the +big cotton people. Very vulgar, but the house is charming. It was so +exciting, for the elections were on, and the Hestons, who are the great +people in that part of the country, were always calling. Dear Lady +Julia is so clever. Did you ever meet Mr. Marsham, by any chance?â€</p> + +<p>“Not that I remember. I know the Hestons of course. Julia is my +cousin.â€</p> + +<p>The lady was silenced. “But I thought,†she murmured. “I thought—they +were—†She broke off with a cough.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I spent a good many of my school holidays at Heston.â€</p> + +<p>Alice broke in with a question about the Manorwaters. The youthful Mr. +Thompson, who, apart from his solicitor’s profession, was a devotee of +cricket, asked in a lofty way if Mr. Haystoun cared for the game.</p> + +<p>“I do rather. I’m not very good, but we raised an eleven this year in +the glen which beat Gledsmuir.â€</p> + +<p>The notion pleased the gentleman. If a second match could be arranged +he might play and show his prowess. In all likelihood this solemn and +bookish laird, presumably brought up at home, would be a poor enough +player.</p> + +<p>“I played a lot at school,†he said. “In fact I was in the Eleven for +two years and I played in the Authentics match, and once against the +Eton Ramblers. A strong lot they were.â€</p> + +<p>“Let me see. Was that about seven years ago? I seem to remember.â€</p> + +<p>“Seven years ago,†said Mr. Thompson. “But why? Did you see the +match?â€</p> + +<p>“No, I wasn’t in the match; I had twisted my ankle, jumping. But I +captained the Ramblers that season, so I remember it.â€</p> + +<p>Respect grew large in Mr. Thompson’s eyes. Here were modesty and +distinction equally mated. The picture of the shy student had gone from +his memory.</p> + +<p>“If you like to come up to Etterick we might get up a match from the +village,†said Lewis courteously. “Ourselves with the foresters and +keepers against the villagers wouldn’t be a bad arrangement.â€</p> + +<p>To Alice the whole conversation struck a jarring note. His eye kindled +and he talked freely on sport. Was it not but a new token of his +incurable levity? Mr. Wishart, who had understood little of the talk, +found in this young man strange stuff to shape to a politician’s ends. +Contrasted with the gravity of Mr. Stocks, it was a schoolboy beside a +master.</p> + +<p>“I have been reading,†he said slowly, “reading a speech of the new +Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I cannot understand the temper of +mind which it illustrates. He talks of the Bosnian war, and a brave +people struggling for freedom, as if it were merely a move in some +hideous diplomatists’ game. A man of that sort cannot understand a +moral purpose.â€</p> + +<p>“Tommy—I mean to say Mr. Wratislaw—doesn’t believe in Bosnian +freedom, but you know he is a most ardent moralist.â€</p> + +<p>“I do not understand,†said Mr. Wishart drily.</p> + +<p>“I mean that personally he is a Puritan, a man who tries every action of +his life by a moral standard. But he believes that moral standards vary +with circumstances.â€</p> + +<p>“Pernicious stuff, sir. There is one moral law. There is one Table of +Commandments.â€</p> + +<p>“But surely you must translate the Commandments into the language of the +occasion. You do not believe that ‘Thou shalt not kill’ is absolute in +every case?â€</p> + +<p>“I mean that except in the God-appointed necessity of war, and in the +serving of criminal justice, killing is murder.â€</p> + +<p>“Suppose a man goes travelling,†said Lewis with abstracted eyes, “and +has a lot of native servants. They mutiny, and he shoots down one or +two. He saves his life, he serves, probably, the ends of civilization. +Do you call that murder?â€</p> + +<p>“Assuredly. Better, far better that he should perish in the wilderness +than that he should take the law into his own hands and kill one of +God’s creatures.â€</p> + +<p>“But law, you know, is not an absolute word.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Wishart scented danger. “I can’t argue against your subtleties, +but my mind is clear; and I can respect no man who could think +otherwise.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis reddened and looked appealingly at Alice. She, too, was +uncomfortable. Her opinions sounded less convincing when stated +dogmatically by her father.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks saw his chance and took it.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever happen to be in such a crisis as you speak of, Mr. +Haystoun? You have travelled a great deal.â€</p> + +<p>“I have never had occasion to put a man to death,†said Lewis, seeing +the snare and scorning to avoid it.</p> + +<p>“But you have had difficulties?â€</p> + +<p>“Once I had to flog a couple of men. It was not pleasant, and worst of +all it did no good.â€</p> + +<p>“Irrational violence seldom does,†grunted Mr. Wishart.</p> + +<p>“No, for, as I was going to say, it was a clear case where the men +should have been put to death. They had deserved it, for they had +disobeyed me, and by their disobedience caused the death of several +innocent people. They decamped shortly afterwards, and all but managed +to block our path. I blame myself still for not hanging them.â€</p> + +<p>A deep silence hung over the table. Mr. Wishart and the Andrews stared +with uncomprehending faces. Mr. Stocks studied his plate, and Alice +looked on the speaker with eyes in which unwilling respect strove with +consternation.</p> + +<p>Only the culprit was at his ease. The discomfort of these good people +for a moment amused him. Then the sight of Alice’s face, which he +wholly misread, brought him back to decent manners.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I have shocked you,†he said simply. “If one knocks about +the world one gets a different point of view.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Wishart restrained a flood of indignation with an effort. “We +won’t speak on the subject,†he said. “I confess I have my prejudices.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks assented with a smile and a sigh. In the drawing-room +afterwards Lewis was presented with the olive-branch of peace. He had +to attend Mrs. Andrews to the piano and listen to her singing of a +sentimental ballad with the face of a man in the process of enjoyment. +Soon he pleaded the four miles of distance and the dark night, and took +his leave. His spirits had in a measure returned. Alice had not been +gracious, but she had shown no scorn. And her spell at the first sight +of her was woven a thousand-fold over his heart.</p> + +<p>He found her alone for one moment in the hall.</p> + +<p>“Alice—Miss Wishart, may I come and see you? It is a pity such near +neighbours should see so little of each other.â€</p> + +<p>His hesitation made him cloak a despairing request in the garb of a +conventional farewell.</p> + +<p>The girl had the sense to pierce the disguise. “You may come and see +us, if you like, Mr. Haystoun. We shall be at home all next week.â€</p> + +<p>“I shall come very soon,†he cried, and he was whirled away from the +light; with the girl’s face framed in the arch of the doorway making a +picture for his memory.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When the others had gone to bed, Stocks and Mr. Wishart sat up over a +last pipe by the smoking-room fire.</p> + +<p>The younger man moved uneasily in his chair. He had something to say +which had long lain on his mind, and he was uncertain of its reception.</p> + +<p>“You have been for a long time my friend, Mr. Wishart,†he began. “You +have done me a thousand kindnesses, and I only hope I have not proved +myself unworthy of them.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Wishart raised his eyebrows at the peculiar words. “Certainly you +have not,†he said. “I regard you as the most promising by far of the +younger men of my acquaintance, and any little services I may have +rendered have been amply repaid me.â€</p> + +<p>The younger man bowed and looked into the fire.</p> + +<p>“It is very kind of you to speak so,†he said. “I have been wondering +whether I might not ask for a further kindness, the greatest favour +which you could confer upon me. Have you made any plans for your +daughter’s future?â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Wishart sat up stiffly on the instant. “You mean?†he said.</p> + +<p>“I mean that I love Alice ... your daughter ... and I wish to make +her my wife. If you will give me your consent, I will ask her.â€</p> + +<p>“But—but,†said the old man, stammering. “Does the girl know anything +of this?â€</p> + +<p>“She knows that I love her, and I think she will not be unkind.â€</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that I object,†said Mr. Wishart after a long pause. “In +fact I am very willing, and I am very glad that you had the good manners +to speak to me first. Yes, upon my word, sir, I am pleased. You have +had a creditable career, and your future promises well. My girl will +help you, for though I say it, she will not be ill-provided for. I +respect your character and I admire your principles, and I give you my +heartiest good wishes.â€</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks rose and held out his hand. He felt that the interview +could not be prolonged in the present fervour of gratitude.</p> + +<p>“Had it been that young Haystoun now,†said Mr. Wishart, “I should +never have given my consent. I resolved long ago that my daughter +should never marry an idle man. I am a plain man, and I care nothing +for social distinctions.â€</p> + +<p>But as Mr. Stocks left the room the plain man glanced after him, and +sitting back suffered a moment’s reflection. The form of this worker +contrasted in his mind with the figure of the idler who had that evening +graced his table. A fool, doubtless, but a fool with an air and a +manner! And for one second he allowed himself to regret that he was to +acquire so unromantic a son-in-law.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><br /> +<small>THE NEMESIS OF A COWARD</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>WO</small> days later the Andrews drove up the glen to Etterick, taking with +them the unwilling Mr. Wishart. Alice had escaped the ordeal with some +feigned excuse, and the unfortunate Mr. Thompson, deeply grieving, had +been summoned by telegram from cricket to law. The lady had chattered +all the way up the winding moorland road, crying out banalities about +the pretty landscape, or questioning her very ignorant companions about +the dwellers in Etterick. She was full of praises for the house when it +came in view; it was “quaint,†it was “charming,†it was everything +inappropriate. But the amiable woman’s prattle deserted her when she +found herself in the cold stone hall with the great portraits and the +lack of all modern frippery. It was so plainly a man’s house, so +clearly a place of tradition, that her pert modern speech seemed for one +moment a fatuity.</p> + +<p>It was an off-day for the shooters, and so for a miracle there were men +in the drawing-room at tea-time. The hostess for the time was an aunt +of Lewis’s, a certain Mrs. Alderson, whose husband (the famous big-game +hunter) had but recently returned from the jaws of a Zambesi lion. +George’s sister, Lady Clanroyden, a tall, handsome girl in a white +frock, was arranging flowers in a bowl, and on the sill of the open +window two men were basking in the sun. From the inner drawing-room +there came an echo of voices and laughter. The whole scene was sunny +and cheerful, youth and age, gay frocks and pleasant faces amid the old +tapestry and mahogany of a moorland house.</p> + +<p>Mr. Andrews sat down solemnly to talk of the weather with the two men, +who found him a little dismal. One—he of the Zambesi lion episode—was +grizzled, phlegmatic, and patient, and in no way critical of his +company. So soon he was embarked on extracts from his own experience to +which Mr. Andrews, who had shares in some company in the neighbourhood, +listened with flattering attention. Mrs. Alderson set herself to +entertain Mr. Wishart, and being a kindly, simple person, found the +task easy. They were soon engaged in an earnest discussion of +unsectarian charities.</p> + +<p>Lady Clanroyden, with an unwilling sense of duty, devoted herself to +Mrs. Andrews. That simpering matron fell into a vein of confidences +and in five brief minutes had laid bare her heart. Then came the +narrative of her recent visit to the Marshams, and the inevitable +mention of the Hestons.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know the Hestons?†said Lady Clanroyden, brightening.</p> + +<p>“Very well indeed.†The lady smiled, looking round to make sure that +Lewis was not in the room.</p> + +<p>“Julia is here, you know. Julia, come and speak to your friends.â€</p> + +<p>A dark girl in mourning came forward to meet the expansive smile of Mrs. +Andrews. Earnestly the lady hoped that she remembered the single brief +meeting on which she had built a fictitious acquaintance, and was +reassured when the newcomer shook hands with her pleasantly. Truth to +tell, Lady Julia had no remembrance of her face, but was too +good-natured to be honest.</p> + +<p>“And how is your dear mother? I was so sorry to hear from a mutual +friend that she had been unwell.†How thankful she was that she read +each week various papers which reported people’s doings!</p> + +<p>A sense of bewilderment lurked in her heart. Who was this Lewis +Haystoun who owned such a house and such a kindred? The hypothesis of +money made in coal seemed insufficient, and with much curiosity she set +herself to solve the problem.</p> + +<p>“Is Mr. Haystoun coming back to tea?†she asked by way of a preface.</p> + +<p>“No, he has had to go to Gledsmuir. We are all idle this afternoon, but +he has a landowner’s responsibilities.â€</p> + +<p>“Have his family been here long? I seem never to have heard the name.â€</p> + +<p>Lady Clanroyden looked a little surprised. “Yes, they have been rather +a while. I forget how many centuries, but a good many. It was about +this place, you know, that the old ballad of ‘The Riding of Etterick’ +was made, and a Haystoun was the hero.â€</p> + +<p>Mrs. Andrews knew nothing about old ballads, but she feigned a happy +reminiscence.</p> + +<p>“It is so sad his being beaten by Mr. Stocks,†she declared. “Of +course an old county family should provide the members for a district. +They have the hearts of the people with them.â€</p> + +<p>“Then the hearts of the people have a funny way of revealing +themselves,†Lady Clanroyden laughed. “I’m not at all sorry that Lewie +was beaten. He is the best man in the world, but one wants to shake him +up. His motto is ‘Thole,’ and he gets too few opportunities of +’tholing.’â€</p> + +<p>“You all call him ‘Lewie,’†commented the lady. “How popular he must +be!â€</p> + +<p>Mabel Clanroyden laughed. “I have known him ever since I was a small +girl in a short frock and straight-brushed hair. He was never anything +else than Lewie to his friends. Oh, here is my wandering brother and my +only son returned,†and she rose to catch up a small, self-possessed boy +of some six years, who led the flushed and reluctant George in tow.</p> + +<p>The small boy was very dirty, ruddy and cheerful. He had torn his +blouse, and scratched his brow, and the crown of his straw hat had +parted company with the brim.</p> + +<p>“George,†said his sister severely, “have you been corrupting the +manners of my son? Where have you been?â€</p> + +<p>The boy—he rejoiced in the sounding name of Archibald—slapped a small +leg with a miniature whip, and counterfeited with great skill the pose +of the stable-yard. He slowly unclenched a smutty fist and revealed +three separate shillings.</p> + +<p>“I won um myself,†he explained.</p> + +<p>“Is it highway robbery?†asked his mother with horrified eyes. +“Archibald, have you stopped a coach, or held up a bus or anything of +the kind?â€</p> + +<p>The child unclenched his hand again, beamed on his prize, smiled +knowingly at the world, and shut it.</p> + +<p>“What has the dreadful boy been after? Oh, tell me, George, please. I +will try to bear it.â€</p> + +<p>“We fell in with a Sunday-school picnic along in the glen, and Archie +made me take him there. And he had tea—I hope the little chap won’t be +ill, by the by. And he made a speech or a recitation or something of +the sort. Nobody understood it, but it went down like anything.â€</p> + +<p>“And do you mean to say that the people gave him money, and you allowed +him to take it?†asked an outraged mother.</p> + +<p>“He won it,†said George. “Won it in fair fight. He was second in the +race under twelve, and first in the race under ten. They gave him a +decent handicap, and he simply romped home. That chap can run, Mabel. +He tried the sack race, too, but the first time he slipped altogether +inside the thing and had to be taken out, yelling. But he stuck to it +like a Trojan, and at the second shot he got started all right, and +would have won it if he hadn’t lost his head and rolled down a bank. He +isn’t scratched much, considering he fell among whins. That also +explains the state of his hat.â€</p> + +<p>“George, you shall never, never, as long as I live, take my son out with +you again. It is a wonder the poor child escaped with his life. You +have not a scrap of feeling. I must take the boy away or he will shame +me before everybody. Come and talk to Mrs. Andrews, George. May I +introduce my brother, Mr. Winterham?â€</p> + +<p>George, who wanted to smoke, sat down unwillingly in the chair which his +sister had left. The lady, whose airs and graces were all for men, put +on her most bewitching manner.</p> + +<p>“Your sister and I have just been talking about this exquisite place, +Mr. Winterham. It must be delightful to live in such a centre of old +romance. That lovely ‘Riding of Etterick’ has been running in my head +all the way up.â€</p> + +<p>George privately wondered at the confession. The peculiarly tragic and +ghastly fragments which made up “The Riding of Etterick,†seemed +scarcely suited to haunt a lady’s memory.</p> + +<p>“Had you a long drive?†he asked in despair for a topic.</p> + +<p>“Only from Glenavelin.â€</p> + +<p>He awoke to interest. “Are you staying at Glenavelin just now? The +Wisharts are in it, are they not? We were a great deal about the place +when the Manorwaters were there.â€</p> + +<p>“Oh yes. I have heard about Lady Manorwater from Alice Wishart. She +must be a charming woman; Alice cannot speak enough about her.â€</p> + +<p>George’s face brightened. “Miss Wishart is a great friend of mine, and +a most awfully good sort.â€</p> + +<p>“And as you are a great friend of hers I think I may tell you a great +secret,†and the lady patted him playfully. “Our pretty Alice is going +to be married.â€</p> + +<p>George was thoroughly roused to attention. “Who is the man?†he asked +sharply.</p> + +<p>“I think I may tell you,†said Mrs. Andrews, enjoying her sense of +importance. “It is Mr. Stocks, the new member.â€</p> + +<p>George restrained with difficulty a very natural oath. Then he looked +at his informant and saw in her face only silliness and truth. For the +good woman had indeed persuaded herself of the verity of her fancy. Mr. +Stocks had told her that he had her father’s consent and good wishes, +and misinterpreting the girl’s manner she had considered the affair +settled.</p> + +<p>It was unfortunate that Mr. Wishart at this moment showed such obvious +signs of restlessness that the lady rose to take her leave, otherwise +George might have learned the truth. After the Glenavelin party had +gone he wandered out to the lawn, pulling his moustache in vast +perplexity and cursing the twisted world. He had no guess at Lewis’s +manner of wooing; to him it had seemed the simple, straightforward love +which he thought beyond resistance. And now, when he learned of this +melancholy issue, he was sore at heart for his friend.</p> + +<p>He was awakened from his reverie by Lewis himself, who, having ridden +straight to the stables, was now sauntering towards the house. A trim +man looks at his best in riding clothes, and Lewis was no exception. He +was flushed with sun and motion, his spirits were high, for all the +journey he had been dreaming of a coming meeting with Alice, and the +hope which had suddenly increased a thousand-fold. George marked his +mood, and with a regret at his new role caught him by the arm and +checked him.</p> + +<p>“I say, old man, don’t go in just yet. I want to tell you something, +and I think you had better hear it now.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis turned obediently, amazed by the gravity of his friend’s face.</p> + +<p>“Some people came up from Glenavelin this afternoon and among them a +Mrs. Andrews, whom I had a talk to. She told me that Al—Miss Wishart +is engaged to that fellow Stocks.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis’s face whitened and he turned away his eyes. He could not credit +it. Two days ago she had been free; he could swear it; he remembered +her eyes at parting. Then came the thought of his blindness, and in a +great horror of self-mistrust he seemed to see throughout it all his +criminal folly. He, poor fool, had been pleasing himself with dreams of +a meeting, when all the while the other man had been the real lover. +She had despised him, spared not a thought for him save as a pleasing +idler; and he—that he should ever have ventured for one second to hope! +Curiously enough, for the first time he thought of Stocks with respect; +to have won the girl seemed in itself the proof of dignity and worth.</p> + +<p>“Thanks very much for telling me. I am glad I know. No, I don’t think +I’ll go into the house yet.â€</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The days passed and Alice waited with anxious heart for the coming of +the very laggard Lewis. To-day he will come, she said each morning; and +evening found her—poor heart!—still expectant. She told herself a +thousand times that it was sheer folly. He meant nothing, it was a mere +fashion of speech; and then her heart would revolt and bid common sense +be silent. He came indeed with some of the Etterick party on a formal +call, but this was clearly not the fulfilment of his promise. So the +girl waited and despaired, while the truant at Etterick was breaking his +heart for the unattainable.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stocks, having won the official consent, conducted his suit with +commendable discretion. Suit is the word for the performance, so full +was it of elaborate punctilios. He never intruded upon her unhappiness. +A studied courtesy, a distant thoughtfulness were his only compliments. +But when he found her gayer, then would he strive with subtle delicacies +of manner to make clear the part he desired to play.</p> + +<p>The girl saw his kindness and was grateful. In the revulsion against +the Andrews he seemed a link with the more pleasant sides of life, and +soon in her despair and anger his modest merits took heroic proportions +in her eyes. She forgot her past dislike; she thought only of this, the +simple good man, contrasted with the showy and fickle-hearted—true +metal against glittering tinsel. His very weaknesses seemed homely and +venial. He was of her own world, akin to the things which deep down in +her soul she knew she must love to the last. It is to the credit of the +man’s insight that he saw the mood and took pains to foster it.</p> + +<p>Twice he asked her to marry him. The first time her heart was still +sore with disappointment and she refused—yet half-heartedly.</p> + +<p>He waited his time and when the natural cheerfulness of her temper was +beginning to rise, he again tried his fortune.</p> + +<p>“I cannot,†she cried. “I cannot. I like you very much, but oh, it is +too much to ask me to marry you.â€</p> + +<p>“But I love you with all my heart, Alice.†And the honesty of his tone +and the distant thought of a very different hope brought the tears to +her eyes.</p> + +<p>He had forgotten all pompous dreams and the stilted prospects with which +he had aforetime hoped to beguile his wife. The man was plain and +simple now, a being very much on fire with an honest passion. He may +have left her love-cold, but he touched the sympathy which in a true +woman is love’s nearest neighbour. Before she knew herself she had +promised, and had been kissed respectfully and tenderly by her delighted +lover. For a moment she felt something like joy, and then, with a +dreadful thought of the baselessness of her pleasure, walked slowly +homewards by his side.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next morning Alice rose with a dreary sense of the irrevocable. A +door seemed to have closed behind her, and the future stretched before +her in a straight dusty path with few nooks and shadows. This was not +the blithe morning of betrothal she had looked for. The rapturous +outlook on life which she had dreamed of was replaced by a cold and +business-like calculation of profits. The rose garden of the “god +unconquered in battle†was exchanged for a very shoddy and huckstering +paradise.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Andrews claimed her company all the morning, and with the +pertinacity of her kind soon guessed the very obvious secret. Her +gushing congratulations drove the girl distracted. She praised the good +Stocks, and Alice drank in the comfort of such words with greedy ears. +From one young man she passed to another, and hung lovingly over the +perfections of Mr. Haystoun. “He has the real distinction, dear,†she +cried, “which you can never mistake. It only belongs to old blood and +it is quite inimitable. His friends are so charming, too, and you can +always tell a man by his people. It is so pleasant to fall in with old +acquaintances again. That dear Lady Clanroyden promised to come over +soon. I quite long to see her, for I feel as if I had known her for +ages.â€</p> + +<p>After lunch Alice fled the house and sought her old refuge—the hills. +There she would find the deep solitude for thought. She was not +broken-hearted, though she grieved now and again with a blind longing of +regret. But she was confused and shaken; the landmarks of her vision +seemed to have been removed, and she had to face the grim narrowing-down +of hopes which is the sternest trial for poor mortality.</p> + +<p>Autumn’s hand was lying heavy on the hillsides. Bracken was yellowing, +heather passing from bloom, and the clumps of wild-wood taking the soft +russet and purple of decline. Faint odours of wood smoke seemed to flit +over the moor, and the sharp lines of the hill fastnesses were drawn as +with a graving-tool against the sky. She resolved to go to the Midburn +and climb up the cleft, for the place was still a centre of memory. So +she kept for a mile to the Etterick road, till she came in view of the +little stone bridge where the highway spans the moorland waters.</p> + +<p>There had been intruders in Paradise before her. Broken bottles and +scraps of paper were defacing the hill turf, and when she turned to get +to the water’s edge she found the rushy coverts trampled on every side. +From somewhere among the trees came the sound of singing—a silly +music-hall catch. It was a sharp surprise, and the girl, in horror at +the profanation, was turning in all haste to leave.</p> + +<p>But the Fates had prepared an adventure. Three half-tipsy men came +swinging down the slope, their arms linked together, and bowlers set +rakishly on the backs of their heads. They kept up the chorus of the +song which was being sung elsewhere, and they suited their rolling gait +to the measure.</p> + +<p>“For it ain’t Maria,†came the tender melody; and the reassuring phrase +was repeated a dozen times. Then by ill-luck they caught sight of the +astonished Alice, and dropping their musical efforts they hailed her +familiarly. Clearly they were the stragglers of some picnic from the +town, the engaging type of gentleman who on such occasions is drunk by +midday. They were dressed in ill-fitting Sunday clothes, great flowers +beamed from their button-holes, and after the fashion of their kind +their waistcoats were unbuttoned for comfort. The girl tried to go back +by the way she had come, but to her horror she found that she was +intercepted. The three gentlemen commanded her retreat.</p> + +<p>They seemed comparatively sober, so she tried entreaty. “Please, let me +pass,†she said pleasantly. “I find I have taken the wrong road.â€</p> + +<p>“No, you haven’t, dearie,†said one of the men, who from a superior +neatness of apparel might have been a clerk. “You’ve come the right +road, for you’ve met us. And now you’re not going away.†And he came +forward with a protecting arm.</p> + +<p>Alice, genuinely frightened, tried to cross the stream and escape by the +other side. But the crossing was difficult, and she slipped at the +outset and wet her ankles. One of the three lurched into the water +after her, and withdrew with sundry oaths.</p> + +<p>The poor girl was in sad perplexity. Before was an ugly rush of water +and a leap beyond her strength; behind, three drunken men, their mouths +full of endearment and scurrility. She looked despairingly to the level +white road for the Perseus who should deliver her.</p> + +<p>And to her joy the deliverer was not wanting. In the thick of the idiot +shouting of the trio there came the clink-clank of a horse’s feet and a +young man came over the bridge. He saw the picture at a glance and its +meaning; and it took him short time to be on his feet and then over the +broken stone wall to the waterside. Suddenly to the girl’s delight +there appeared at the back of the roughs the inquiring, sunburnt face of +Lewis.</p> + +<p>The men turned and stared with hanging jaws. “Now, what the dickens is +this?†he cried, and catching two of their necks he pulled their heads +together and then flung them apart.</p> + +<p>The three seemed sobered by the apparition. “And what the h-ll is your +business?†they cried conjointly; and one, a dark-browed fellow, doubled +his fists and advanced.</p> + +<p>Lewis stood regarding them with a smiling face and very bright, cross +eyes. “Are you by way of insulting this lady? If you weren’t drunk, +I’d teach you manners. Get out of this in case I forget myself.â€</p> + +<p>For answer the foremost of the men hit out. A glance convinced Lewis +that there was enough sobriety to make a fight of it. “Miss +Wishart ... Alice,†he cried, “come back and go down to the road +and see to my horse, please. I’ll be down in a second.â€</p> + +<p>The girl obeyed, and so it fell out that there was no witness to that +burn-side encounter. It was a complex fight and it lasted for more than +a second. Two of the men had the grace to feel ashamed of themselves +half-way through, and retired from the contest with shaky limbs and +aching faces. The third had to be assisted to his feet in the end by +his antagonist. It was not a good fight, for the three were +pasty-faced, overgrown young men, in no training and stupid with liquor. +But they pressed hard on Lewis for a little, till he was compelled in +self-defence to treat them as fair opponents.</p> + +<p>He came down the road in a quarter of an hour with a huge rent in his +coat-sleeve and a small cut on his forehead. He was warm and +breathless, still righteously indignant at the event, and half-ashamed +of so degrading an encounter. He found the girl standing statue-like, +holding the bridle-rein, and looking into the distance with vacant eyes.</p> + +<p>“Are you going back to Glenavelin, Miss Wishart?†he asked. “I think I +had better go with you if you will allow me.â€</p> + +<p>Alice mutely assented and walked beside him while he led his horse. He +could think of nothing to say. The whole world lay between them now, +and there was no single word which either could speak without showing +some trace of the tragic separation.</p> + +<p>It was the girl who first broke the silence.</p> + +<p>“I want to thank you with all my heart,†she stammered. And then by an +awkward intuition she looked in his face and saw written there all the +hopelessness and longing which he was striving to conceal. For one +moment she saw clearly, and then the crooked perplexities of the world +seemed to stare cruelly in her eyes. A sob caught her voice, and before +she was conscious of her action she laid a hand on Lewis’s arm and burst +into tears.</p> + +<p>The sight was so unexpected that it deprived him of all power of action. +Then came the fatally easy solution that it was but reaction of +over-strained nerves. Always ill at ease in a woman’s presence, a +woman’s tears reduced him to despair. He stroked her hair gently as he +would have quieted a favourite horse.</p> + +<p>“I am so sorry that these brutes have frightened you. But here we are +at Glenavelin gates.â€</p> + +<p>And all the while his heart was crying out to him to clasp her in his +arms, and the words which trembled on his tongue were the passionate +consolations of a lover.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><br /> +<small>A MOVEMENT OF THE POWERS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">A<small>T</small> Mrs. Montrayner’s dinner parties a world of silent men is sandwiched +between a <i>monde</i> of chattering women. The hostess has a taste for busy +celebrities who eat their dinner without thought of the cookery, and +regard their fair neighbours much as the diners think of the band in a +restaurant. She chose her company with care, and if at her table there +was not the busy clack of a fluent conversation, there was always the +possibility of <i>bons mots</i> and the off-chance of a State secret. So to +have dined with the Montrayners became a boast in a small social set, +and to the unilluminate the Montrayner banquets seemed scarce less +momentous than Cabinet meetings.</p> + +<p>Wratislaw found himself staring dully at a snowy bank of flowers and +looking listlessly at the faces beyond. He was extremely worried, and +his grey face and sunken eyes showed the labour he had been passing +through. The country was approaching the throes of a crisis, and as yet +the future was a blind alley to him. There was an autumn session, and +he had been badgered all the afternoon in the Commons; his even temper +had been perilously near its limits, and he had been betrayed +unconsciously into certain ineptitudes which he knew would grin in his +face on the morrow from a dozen leading articles. The Continent seemed +on the edge of an outbreak; in the East especially, Russia by a score of +petty acts had seemed to foreshadow an incomprehensible policy. It was +a powder-barrel waiting for the spark; and he felt dismally that the +spark might come at any moment from some unlooked-for quarter of the +globe. He ran over in his mind the position of foreign affairs. All +seemed vaguely safe; and yet he was conscious that all was vaguely +unsettled. The world was on the eve of one of its cyclic changes, and +unrest seemed to make the air murky.</p> + +<p>He tried to be polite and listened attentively to the lady on his right, +who was telling him the latest gossip about a certain famous marriage. +But his air was so manifestly artificial that she turned to the +presumably more attractive topic of his doings.</p> + +<p>“You look ill,†she said—she was one who adopted the motherly air +towards young men, which only a pretty woman can use. “Are they +over-working you in the House?â€</p> + +<p>“Pretty fair,†and he smiled grimly. “But really I can’t complain. I +have had eight hours’ sleep in the last four days, and I don’t think +Beauregard could say as much. Some day I shall break loose and go to a +quiet place and sleep for a week. Brittany would do—or Scotland.â€</p> + +<p>“I was in Scotland last week,†she said. “I didn’t find it quiet. It +was at one of those theatrical Highland houses where they pipe you to +sleep and pipe you to breakfast. I used to have to sit up all night by +the fire and read Marius the Epicurean, to compose myself. Did you ever +try the specific?â€</p> + +<p>“No,†he said, laughing. “I always soothe my nerves with Blue-books.â€</p> + +<p>She made a mouth at the thought. “And do you know I met such a nice man +up there, who said you were a great friend of his? His name was +Haystoun.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you remember his Christian name?†he asked.</p> + +<p>“Lewis,†she said without hesitation.</p> + +<p>He laughed. “He is a man who should only have one name and that his +Christian one. I never heard him called ‘Haystoun’ in my life. How is +he?â€</p> + +<p>“He seemed well, but he struck me as being at rather a loose end. What +is wrong with him? You know him well and can tell me. He seems to have +nothing to do; to have fallen out of his niche, you know. And he looks +so extraordinarily clever.â€</p> + +<p>“He <i>is</i> extraordinarily clever. But if I undertook to tell you what +was wrong with Lewie Haystoun, I should never get to the House to-night. +The vitality of a great family has run to a close in him. He is strong +and able, and yet, unless the miracle of miracles happens, he will never +do anything. Two hundred years ago he might have led some mad Jacobite +plot to success. Three hundred and he might have been another Raleigh. +Six hundred, and there would have been a new crusade. But as it is, he +is out of harmony with his times; life is too easy and mannered; the +field for a man’s courage is in petty and recondite things, and Lewie is +not fitted to understand it. And all this, you see, spells a kind of +cowardice: and if you have a friend who is a hero out of joint, a great +man smothered in the wrong sort of civilization, and all the while one +who is building up for himself with the world and in his own heart the +reputation of a coward, you naturally grow hot and bitter.â€</p> + +<p>The lady looked curiously at the speaker. She had never heard the +silent politician speak so earnestly before.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me a clear case of <i>chercher la femme</i>,†said she.</p> + +<p>“That,†said Wratislaw with emphasis, “is the needle-point of the whole +business. He has fallen in love with just the wrong sort of woman. +Very pretty, very good, a demure puritanical little Pharisee, clever +enough, too, to see Lewie’s merits, too weak to hope to remedy them, and +too full of prejudice to accept them. There you have the makings of a +very pretty tragedy.â€</p> + +<p>“I am so sorry,†said the lady. She was touched by this man’s anxiety +for his friend, and Mr. Lewis Haystoun, whom she was never likely to +meet again, became a figure of interest in her eyes. She turned to say +something more, but Wratislaw, having unburdened his soul to some one, +and feeling a little relieved, was watching his chief’s face further +down the table. That nobleman, hopelessly ill at ease, had given up the +pretence of amiability and was now making frantic endeavours to send +mute signals across the flowers to his under secretary.</p> + +<p>The Montrayner guests seldom linger. Within half an hour after the +ladies left the table Beauregard and Wratislaw were taking leave and +hurrying into their greatcoats.</p> + +<p>“You are going down to the House,†said the elder man, “and I’ll come +too. I want to have some talk with you. I tried to catch your eye at +dinner to get you to come round and deliver me from old Montrayner, for +I had to sit on his right hand and couldn’t come round to you. +Heigho-ho! I wish I was a Trappist.â€</p> + +<p>The cab had turned out of Piccadilly into St. James’s Street before +either man spoke again. The tossing lights of a windy autumn evening +were shimmering on the wet pavement, and faces looked spectral white in +the morris-dance of shine and shadow. Wratislaw, whose soul was sick +for high, clean winds and the great spaces of the moors, was thinking of +Glenavelin and Lewis and the strong, quickening north. His companion +was furrowing his brow over some knotty problem in his duties.</p> + +<p>In Pall Mall there was a lull in the noise, but neither seemed disposed +to talk.</p> + +<p>“We had better wait till we get to the House,†said Beauregard. “We +must have peace, for I have got the most vexatious business to speak +about.†And again he wrinkled his anxious brows and stared in front of +him.</p> + +<p>They entered a private room where the fire had burned itself out, and +the lights fell on heavy furniture and cheerless solitude. Beauregard +spread himself out in an arm-chair, and stared at the ceiling. +Wratislaw, knowing his chief’s manners, stood before the blackened grate +and waited.</p> + +<p>“Fetch me an atlas—that big one, and find the map of the Indian +frontier.†Wratislaw obeyed and stretched the huge folio on the table.</p> + +<p>The elder man ran his forefinger in a circle.</p> + +<p>“There—that wretched radius is the plague of my life. Our reports stop +short at that line, and reliable information begins again some hundreds +of miles north. Meanwhile—between?†And he shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I got news to-day in a roundabout way from Taghati. That’s the town +just within the Russian frontier there. It seems that the whole country +is in a ferment. The hill tribes are out and the Russian frontier line +is threatened. So they say. I have the actual names of the people who +are making the row. Russian troops are being massed along the line +there. The whole place, you know, has been for long a military beehive +and absurdly over-garrisoned, so there is no difficulty about the +massing. The difficulty lies in the reason. Three thousand square +miles or so of mountain cannot be so dangerous. One would think that +the whole Afghan nation was meditating a descent on the Amu Daria.†He +glanced up at his companion, and the two men saw the same anxiety in +each other’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Anything more of Marka?†asked Wratislaw.</p> + +<p>“Nothing definite. He is somewhere in the Pamirs, up to some devilry or +other. Oh, by the by, there is something I have forgotten. I found out +the other day that our gentleman had been down quite recently in +south-west Kashmir. He was Arthur Marker at the time, the son of a +German count and a Scotch mother, you understand. Immensely popular, +too, among natives and Europeans alike. He went south from Bardur, and +apparently returned north by the Punjab. At Bardur, Logan and Thwaite +were immensely fascinated, Gribton remained doubtful. Now the good +Gribton is coming home, and so he will have the place for a happy +hunting-ground.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw was puffing his under-lip in deep thought. “It is a sweet +business,†he said. “But what can we do? Only wait?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, one could wait if Marka were the only disquieting feature. But +what about Taghati and the Russian activity? What on earth is going on +or about to go on in this square inch of mountain land to make all the +pother? If it is a tribal war on a first-class scale then we must know +about it, for it is in the highest degree our concern too. If it is +anything else, things look more than doubtful. All the rest I don’t +mind. It’s open and obvious, and we are on the alert. But that little +bit of frontier there is so little known and apparently so remote that I +begin to be afraid of trouble in that direction. What do you think?â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw shook his head. He had no opinion to offer.</p> + +<p>“At any rate, you need fear no awkward questions in the House, for this +sort of thing cannot be public for months.â€</p> + +<p>“I am wondering whether somebody should not go out. Somebody quite +unofficial and sufficiently clever.â€</p> + +<p>“My thought too,†said Beauregard. “The pinch is where to get our man +from. I have been casting up possibilities all day, and this one is too +clever, another too dull, another too timid, and another too +hare-brained.â€</p> + +<p>Wratislaw seemed sunk in a brown study.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember my telling you once about my friend Lewis Haystoun?†he +asked.</p> + +<p>“I remember perfectly. What made him get so badly beaten? He ought to +have won.â€</p> + +<p>“That’s part of my point,†said the other. “If I knew him less well +than I do I should say he was the man cut out by Providence for the +work. He has been to the place, he knows the ropes of travelling, he is +exceedingly well-informed, and he is uncommonly clever. But he is badly +off colour. The thing might be the saving of him, or the ruin—in which +case, of course, he would also be the ruin of the thing.â€</p> + +<p>“As risky as that?†Beauregard asked. “I have heard something of him, +but I thought it merely his youth. What’s wrong with him?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can’t tell. A thousand things, but all might be done away with +by a single chance like this. I tell you what I’ll do. After to-night +I can be spared for a couple of days. I feel rather hipped myself, so I +shall get up to the north and see my man. I know the circumstances and +I know Lewis. If the two are likely to suit each other I have your +authority to give him your message?â€</p> + +<p>“Certainly, my dear Wratislaw. I have all the confidence in the world +in your judgment. You will be back the day after to-morrow?â€</p> + +<p>“I shall only be out of the House one night, and I think the game worth +it. I need not tell you that I am infernally anxious both about the +business and my friend. It is just on the cards that one might be the +solution of the other.â€</p> + +<p>“You understand everything?â€</p> + +<p>“Everything. I promise you I shall be exacting enough. And now I had +better be looking after my own work.â€</p> + +<p>Beauregard stared after him as he went out of the room and remained for +a few minutes in deep thought. Then he deliberately wrote out a foreign +telegram form and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>“I fancy I know the man,†he said to himself. “He will go. Meantime I +can prepare things for his passage.†The telegram was to the fugitive +Gribton at Florence, asking him to meet a certain Mr. Haystoun at the +Embassy in Paris within a week for the discussion of a particular +question.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><br /> +<small>THE BRINK OF THE RUBICON</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> next evening Wratislaw drove in a hired dogcart up Glenavelin from +Gledsmuir just as a stormy autumn twilight was setting in over the bare +fields. A wild back-end had followed on the tracks of a marvellous +summer. Though it was still October the leaves lay heaped beneath the +hedgerows, the bracken had yellowed to a dismal hue of decay, and the +heather had turned from the purple of its flower to the grey-blue of its +passing. Rain had fallen, and the long road-side pools were fired by +the westering sun. Glenavelin looked crooked and fantastic in the +falling shadows, and two miles farther the high lights of Etterick rose +like a star in the bosom of the hills. Seen after many weeks’ work in +the bustle and confinement of town, the solitary, shadow-haunted world +soothed and comforted.</p> + +<p>He found Lewis in his room alone. The place was quite dark for no lamp +was lit, and only a merry fire showed the occupant. He welcomed his +friend with crazy vehemence, pushing him into a great armchair, offering +a dozen varieties of refreshment, and leaving the butler aghast with +contradictory messages about dinner.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Tommy, upon my soul, it is good to see you here! I was getting as +dull as an owl.â€</p> + +<p>“Are you alone?†Wratislaw asked.</p> + +<p>“George is staying here, but he has gone over to Glenaller to a big +shoot. I didn’t care much about it, so I stayed at home. He will be +back to-morrow.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis’s face in the firelight seemed cheerful and wholesome enough, but +his words belied it. Wratislaw wondered why this man, who had been wont +to travel to the ends of the earth for good shooting, should deny +himself the famous Glenaller coverts.</p> + +<p>At dinner the lamplight showed him more clearly, and the worried look in +his eyes could not be hidden. He was listless, too, his kindly, +boisterous manner seemed to have forsaken him, and he had acquired a +great habit of abstracted silence. He asked about recent events in the +House, commenting shrewdly enough, but without interest. When Wratislaw +in turn questioned him on his doings, he had none of the ready +enthusiasm which had been used to accompany his talk on sport. He gave +bare figures and was silent.</p> + +<p>Afterwards in his own sanctum, with drawn curtains and a leaping fire, +he became more cheerful. It was hard to be moody in that pleasant room, +with the light glancing from silver and vellum and dark oak, and a +thousand memories about it of the clean, outdoor life. Wratislaw +stretched his legs to the blaze and watched the coils of blue smoke +mounting from his pipe with a feeling of keen pleasure. His errand was +out of the focus of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>It was Lewis himself who recalled him to the business.</p> + +<p>“I thought of coming down to town,†he said. “I have been getting out +of spirits up here, and I wanted to be near you.â€</p> + +<p>“Then it was an excellent chance which brought me up to-night. But why +are you dull? I thought you were the sort of man who is sufficient unto +himself, you know.â€</p> + +<p>“I am not,†he said sharply. “I never realized my gross insufficiency +so bitterly.â€</p> + +<p>“Ah!†said Wratislaw, sitting up, “love?â€</p> + +<p>“Did you happen to see Miss Wishart’s engagement in the papers?â€</p> + +<p>“I never read the papers. But I have heard about this: in fact, I +believe I have congratulated Stocks.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you know that she ought to have married me?†Lewis cried almost +shrilly. “I swear she loved me. It was only my hideous folly that +drove her from me.â€</p> + +<p>“Folly?†said Wratislaw, smiling. “Folly? Well you might call it +that. I have come up ‘ane’s errand,’ as your people hereabouts say, to +talk to you like a schoolmaster, Lewie. Do you mind a good talking-to?â€</p> + +<p>“I need it,†he said. “Only it won’t do any good, because I have been +talking to myself for a month without effect. Do you know what I am, +Tommy?â€</p> + +<p>“I am prepared to hear,†said the other.</p> + +<p>“A coward! It sounds nice, doesn’t it? I am a shirker, a man who would +be drummed out of any regiment.â€</p> + +<p>“Rot!†said Wratislaw. “In that sort of thing you have the courage of +your kind. You are the wrong sort of breed for common shirking cowards. +Why, man, you might get the Victoria Cross ten times over with ease, as +far as that goes. Only you wouldn’t, for you are something much more +subtle and recondite than a coward.â€</p> + +<p>It was Lewis’s turn for the request. “I am prepared to hear,†he said.</p> + +<p>“A fool! An arrant, extraordinary fool! A fool of quality and parts, a +fool who is the best fellow in the world and who has every virtue a man +can wish, but at the same time a conspicuous monument of folly. And it +is this that I have come to speak about.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis sat back in his chair with his eyes fixed on the glowing coal.</p> + +<p>“I want you to make it all plain,†he said slowly. “I know it all +already; I have got the dull, dead consciousness of it in my heart, but +I want to hear it put into words.†And he set his lips like a man in +pain.</p> + +<p>“It is hard,†said Wratislaw, “devilish hard, but I’ve got to try.†He +knocked out the ashes from his pipe and leaned forward.</p> + +<p>“What would you call the highest happiness, Lewie?†he asked.</p> + +<p>“The sense of competence,†was the answer, given without hesitation.</p> + +<p>“Right. And what do we mean by competence? Not success! God knows it +is something very different from success! Any fool may be successful, +if the gods wish to hurt him. Competence means that splendid joy in +your own powers and the approval of your own heart, which great men feel +always and lesser men now and again at favoured intervals. There are a +certain number of things in the world to be done, and we have got to do +them. We may fail—it doesn’t in the least matter. We may get killed +in the attempt—it matters still less. The things may not altogether be +worth doing—it is of very little importance. It is ourselves we have +got to judge by. If we are playing our part well, and know it, then we +can thank God and go on. That is what I call happiness.â€</p> + +<p>“And I,†said Lewis.</p> + +<p>“And how are you to get happiness? Not by thinking about it. The great +things of the world have all been done by men who didn’t stop to reflect +on them. If a man comes to a halt and analyses his motives and +distrusts the value of the thing he strives for, then the odds are that +his halt is final. You strive to strive and not to attain. A man must +have that direct practical virtue which forgets itself and sees only its +work. Parsons will tell you that all virtue is self-sacrifice, and they +are right, though not in the way they mean. It may all seem a tissue of +contradictions. You must not pitch on too fanciful a goal, nor, on the +other hand, must you think on yourself. And it is a contradiction which +only resolves itself in practice, one of those anomalies on which the +world is built up.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis nodded his head.</p> + +<p>“And the moral of it all is that there are two sorts of people who will +never do any good on this planet. One is the class which makes formulas +and shallow little ideals its gods and has no glimpse of human needs and +the plain issues of life. The other is the egotist whose eye is always +filled with his own figure, who investigates his motives, and hesitates +and finicks, till Death knocks him on the head and there is an end of +him. Of the two give me the second, for even a narrow little +egotistical self is better than a formula. But I pray to be delivered +from both.â€</p> + +<p>“‘Then who shall stand if Thou, O Lord, dost mark iniquity?’†Lewis +quoted.</p> + +<p>“There are two men only who will not be ashamed to look their work in +the face in the end—the brazen opportunist and the rigid Puritan. +Suppose you had some desperate frontier work to get through with and a +body of men to pick for it, whom would you take? Not the ordinary, +colourless, respectable being, and still less academic nonentities! If +I had my pick, my companions should either be the narrowest religionists +or frank, unashamed blackguards. I should go to the Calvinists and the +fanatics for choice, but if I could not get them then I should have the +rankers. For, don’t you see, the first would have the fear of God in +them, and that somehow keeps a man from fearing anything else. They +would do their work because they believed it to be their duty. And the +second would have the love of the sport in them, and they should also be +made to dwell in the fear of me. They would do their work because they +liked it, and liked me, and I told them to do it.â€</p> + +<p>“I agree with you absolutely,†said Lewis. “I never thought otherwise.â€</p> + +<p>“Good,†said Wratislaw. “Now for my application. You’ve had the +misfortune to fall between the two stools, Lewie. You’re too clever for +a Puritan and too good for a ranker. You’re too finicking and +high-strung and fanciful for a prosaic world. You think yourself the +laughing philosopher with an infinite appreciation of everything, and +yet you have not the humour to stand aside and laugh at yourself.â€</p> + +<p>“I am a coward, as I have told you,†said the other dourly.</p> + +<p>“No, you are not. But you can’t bring yourself down to the world of +compromises, which is the world of action. You have lost the practical +touch. You muddled your fight with Stocks because you couldn’t get out +of touch with your own little world in practice, however you might +manage it in theory. You can’t be single-hearted. Twenty impulses are +always pulling different ways with you, and the result is that you +become an unhappy, self-conscious waverer.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis was staring into the fire, and the older man leaned forward and +put his hand very tenderly on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to speak about the thing which gives you most pain, old +chap; but I think you have spoiled your chances in the same way in +another matter—the most important matter a man can have to do with, +though it ill becomes a cynical bachelor like myself to say it.â€</p> + +<p>“I know,†said Lewis dismally.</p> + +<p>“You see it is the Nemesis of your race which has overtaken you. The +rich, strong blood of you Haystouns must be given room or it sours into +moodiness. It is either a spoon or a spoiled horn with you. You are +capable of the big virtues, and just because of it you are +extraordinarily apt to go to the devil. Not the ordinary devil, of +course, but to a very effective substitute. You want to be braced and +pulled together. A war might do it, if you were a soldier. A religious +enthusiasm would do it, if that were possible for you. As it is, I have +something else, which I came up to propose to you.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis faced round in an attitude of polite attention. But his eyes had +no interest in them.</p> + +<p>“You know Bardur and the country about there pretty well?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis nodded.</p> + +<p>“Also I once talked to you about a man called Marka. Do you remember?â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course I do. The man who went north from Bardur the week +before I turned up there?â€</p> + +<p>“Well, there’s trouble brewing thereabouts. You know the Taghati +country up beyond the Russian line. Things are in a ferment there, +great military preparations and all the rest of it, and the reason, they +say, is that the hill-tribes in the intervening No-man’s-land are at +their old games. Things look very ugly abroad just now, and we can’t +afford to neglect anything when a crisis may be at the door. So we want +a man to go out there and find out the truth.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis had straightened himself and was on his feet before Wratislaw had +done. “Upon my word,†he cried, “if it isn’t what I expected! We have +been far too sure of the safety of that Kashmir frontier. You mean, of +course, that there may be a chance of an invasion?â€</p> + +<p>“I mean nothing. But things look ugly enough in Europe just now, and +Asia would naturally be the starting-point.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis made some rapid calculations in his head which he jotted on the +wood of the fireplace. “It would take a week to get from Bardur to +Taghati by the ordinary Kashmir rate of travelling, but of course the +place is unknown and it might take months. One would have to try it?â€</p> + +<p>“I can only give you the bare facts. If you decide to go, Beauregard +will give you particulars in town.â€</p> + +<p>“When would he want to know?â€</p> + +<p>“At once. I go back to-morrow morning, and I must have your answer +within three days. You would be required to start within a week. You +can take time and quiet to make up your mind.â€</p> + +<p>“It’s a great chance,†said Lewis. “Does Beauregard think it +important?â€</p> + +<p>“Of the highest importance. Also, of course it is dangerous. The +travelling is hard, and you may be knocked on the head at any moment as +a spy.â€</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind that,†said the other, flushing. “I’ve been through the +same thing before.â€</p> + +<p>“I need not say the work will be very difficult. Remember that your +errand will not be official, so in case of failure or trouble we could +not support you. We might even have to disclaim all responsibility. In +the event of success, on the other hand, your fortune is something more +than made.â€</p> + +<p>“Would you go?†came the question.</p> + +<p>“No,†said Wratislaw, “I shouldn’t.â€</p> + +<p>“But if you were in my place?â€</p> + +<p>“I should hope that I would, but then I might not have the courage. I +am giving you the brave man’s choice, Lewie. You will be going out to +uncertainty and difficulty and extreme danger. On the other hand, I +believe in my soul it will harden you into the man you ought to be. +Lord knows I would rather have you stay at home!â€</p> + +<p>The younger man looked up for a second and saw something in Wratislaw’s +face which made him turn away his eyes. The look of honest regret cut +him to the heart. Those friends of his, of whom he was in nowise +worthy, made the burden of his self-distrust doubly heavy.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you within three days,†he said hoarsely. “God bless you, +Tommy. I don’t deserve to have a man like you troubling himself about +me.â€</p> + +<p>It was his one spoken tribute to their friendship; and both, with the +nervousness of honest men in the presence of emotion, hastened to change +the subject.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><br /> +<small>THE FURTHER BRINK</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">W<small>RATISLAW</small> left betimes the next morning, and a long day faced Lewis with +every hour clamouring for a decision. George would be back by noon, and +before his return he must seek quiet and the chances of reflection. He +was happy with a miserable fluctuating happiness. Of a sudden his +horizon was enlarged, but as he gazed it seemed to narrow again. His +mind was still unplumbed; somewhere in its depths might lie the +shrinking and unwillingness which would bind him to the dreary present.</p> + +<p>He went out to the autumn hills and sought the ridge which runs for +miles on the lip of the glen. It was a grey day, with snow waiting in +cloud-banks in the north sky and a thin wind whistling through the +pines. The scene matched his humour. He was in love for the moment +with the stony and stormy in life. He hungered morbidly for +ill-fortune, something to stamp out the ease in his soul, and weld him +into the form of a man.</p> + +<p>He had got his chance and the rest lay with himself. It was a chance of +high adventure, a great mission, a limitless future. At the thought the +old fever began to rise in his blood. The hot, clear smell of rock and +sand, the brown depths of the waters, the far white peaks running up +among the stars, all spoke to him with the long-remembered call. Once +more he should taste life, and, alert in mind and body, hold up his chin +among his fellows. It would be a contest of wits, and for all his +cowardice this was not the contest he shrank from.</p> + +<p>And then there came back on him, like a flood, the dumb misery of +incompetence which had weighed on heart and brain. The hatred of the +whole struggling, sordid crew, all the cant and ugliness and ignorance +of a mad world, his weakness in the face of it, his fall from common +virtue, his nerveless indolence—all stung him like needle points, till +he cried out in agony. Anything to deliver his soul from such a +bondage, and in his extreme bitterness his mind closed with Wratislaw’s +offer.</p> + +<p>He felt—and it is a proof of his weakness—a certain nameless feeling +of content when he had once forced himself into the resolution. Now at +least he had found a helm and a port to strain to. As his fancy dwelt +upon the mission and drew airy pictures of the land, he found to his +delight a boyish enthusiasm arising. Old simple pleasures seemed for +the moment dear. There was a zest for toils and discomforts, a +tolerance of failure, which had been aforetime his chief traveller’s +heritage.</p> + +<p>And then as he came to the ridge where the road passes from Glenavelin +to Glen Adler, he stopped as in duty bound to look at the famous +prospect. You stand at the shedding of two streams; behind, the green +and woodland spaces of the pastoral Avelin; at the feet, a land of +stones and dwarf junipers and naked rifts in the hills, with +white-falling waters and dark shadows even at midday. And then, beyond +and afar, the lines of hill-land crowd upon each other till the eye is +lost in a mystery of grey rock and brown heather and single bald peaks +rising sentinel-like in the waste. The grey heavens lent a chill +eeriness to the dim grey distances; the sharp winds, the forerunners of +snow, blew over the moors like blasts from a primeval night.</p> + +<p>By an odd vagary of temper the love of these bleak hills blazed up +fiercely in his heart. Never before had he felt so keenly the nameless +glamour of his own heritage. He had not been back six months and yet he +had come to accept all things as matters of course, the beauty of the +place, its sport, its memories. Rarely had he felt that intimate joy in +it which lies at the bottom of all true souls. There is a sentiment +which old poets have made into songs and called the “Lilt of the +Heather,†and which is knit closer to man’s heart than love of wife or +kin or his own fair fortune. It had not come to him in the time of the +hills’ glory, but now on the brink of winter the far-off melancholy of +the place and its infinite fascination seemed to clutch at his +heart-strings. It was his own land, the place of his fathers; and now +he must sever himself from it and carry only a barren memory.</p> + +<p>And yet he felt no melancholy. Rather it was the immortal gaiety of the +wanderer, to whom the homeland is dearest as a memory, who pitches his +camp by waters of Babylon and yet as ever the old word on his lip, the +old song in his ear, and the kindly picture in his heart. Strange that +it is the little races who wander farthest and yet have the eternal +home-sickness! And yet not strange, for to the little peoples, their +land, bare and uncouth and unfriendly for the needs of life, must be +more the ideal, the dream, than the satisfaction. The lush countries +give corn and wine for their folks, the little bare places afford no +more than a spiritual heritage. Yet spiritual it is, and for two men +who in the moment of their extremity will think on meadow, woodland, or +placid village, a score will figure the windy hill, the grey lochan, and +the mournful sea.</p> + +<p>For the moment he felt a self-pity which he cast from him. To this +degradation at least he should never come. But as the thought of Alice +came up ever and again, his longing for her seemed to be changed from +hot pain to a chastened regret. The red hearth-fire was no more in his +fancy. The hunger for domesticity had gone, and the girl was now less +the wife he had desired than the dream of love he had vainly followed. +As he came back across the moors, for the first time for weeks his +jealous love left him at peace. His had been a fanciful Sylvia, “holy, +fair, and wiseâ€; and what if mortal Sylvia were unkind, there was yet +comfort in this elusive lady of his memories.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He found George at the end of a second breakfast, a very ruddy, happy +young man hunting high and low for a lost tobacco-jar.</p> + +<p>“Oh, first-class,†he said in answer to Lewis’s question. “Out and out +the best day’s shooting I’ve had in my life. You were an ass not to +come, you know. A lot of your friends there, tremendously disappointed +too, and entrusted me with a lot of messages for you which I have +forgotten.â€</p> + +<p>His companion’s high spirits infected Lewis and he fell into cheery +gossip. Then he could contain the news no more.</p> + +<p>“I had Tommy up last night on a flying visit. He says that Beauregard +wants me to go out to Kashmir again. There has been some threatening of +a row up there, and he thinks that as I know the place I might be able +to get good information.â€</p> + +<p>“Official?†asked George.</p> + +<p>“Practically, yes; but in theory it’s quite off my own bat, and they are +good enough to tell me that they will not acknowledge responsibility. +However, it’s a great chance and I am going.â€</p> + +<p>“Good,†said the other, and his face and voice had settled into gravity. +“Pretty fair sport up in those parts, isn’t there?â€</p> + +<p>“Pretty fair? it’s about the best in the world. Your ordinary man who +goes the grand tour comes home raving about the sport in the Himalayan +foothills, and it’s not to be named with this.â€</p> + +<p>“Good chance too of a first-rate row, isn’t there? Natives troublesome, +and Russia near, and that sort of thing?†George’s manner showed a +growing enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“A rather good chance. It is about that I’m going, you know.â€</p> + +<p>“Then if you don’t mind, I am coming with you.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis stared, incredulous.</p> + +<p>“It’s quite true. I am serious enough. I am doing nothing at the Bar, +and I want to travel, proper travelling, where you are not coddled with +railways and hotels.â€</p> + +<p>“But it’s hideously risky, and probably very arduous and thankless. You +will tire of it in a week.â€</p> + +<p>“I won’t,†said George, “and in any case I’ll make my book for that. +You must let me come, Lewie. I simply couldn’t stand your going off +alone.â€</p> + +<p>“But I may have to leave you. There are places where one can go when +two can’t.â€</p> + +<p>“When you come to that sort of place I’ll stay behind. I’ll be quite +under your orders.â€</p> + +<p>“Well, at any rate take some time to think over it.â€</p> + +<p>“Bless you, I don’t want time to think over it,†cried George. “I know +my own mind. It’s the chance I’ve been waiting on for years.â€</p> + +<p>“Thanks tremendously then, my dear chap,†said Lewis, very ill at ease. +“It’s very good of you. I must wire at once to Tommy.â€</p> + +<p>“I’ll take it down, if you like. I want to try that new mare of yours +in the dog-cart.â€</p> + +<p>When his host had left the room George forgot to light his pipe, but +walked instead to the window and whistled solemnly. “Poor old man,†he +said softly to himself, “it had to come to this, but I’m hanged if he +doesn’t take it like a Trojan.†And he added certain striking comments +on the ways of womankind and the afflictions of life, which, being +expressed in Mr. Winterham’s curious phraseology, need not be set down.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Alice had gone out after lunch to walk to Gledsmuir, seeking in the +bitter cold and the dawning storm the freshness which comes from +conflict. All the way down the glen the north wind had stung her cheeks +to crimson and blown stray curls about her ears; but when she left the +little market-place to return she found a fine snow powdering the earth, +and a haze creeping over the hills which threatened storm. A mile of +the weather delighted her, but after that she grew weary. When the fall +thickened she sought the shelter of a way-side cottage, with the purpose +of either sending to Glenavelin for a carriage or waiting for the +off-chance of a farmer’s gig.</p> + +<p>By four o’clock the snow showed no sign of clearing, but fell in the +same steady, noiseless drift. The mistress of the place made the girl +tea and dispatched her son to Glenavelin. But the errand would take +time, for the boy was small, and Alice, ever impatient, stood drumming +on the panes, watching the dreary weather with a dreary heart. The +goodwife was standing at the door on the look-out for a passing gig, and +her cry brought the girl to attention.</p> + +<p>“I see a machine comin’! I think it’s the Etterick dowg-cairt. Ye’ll +get a drive in it.â€</p> + +<p>Alice had gone to the door, and lo! through the thick fall a dog-cart +came into view driven by a tall young man. He recognized her at once, +and drew up.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Miss Wishart! Storm-stayed? Can I help you?â€</p> + +<p>The girl looked distrustfully at the very restless horse and he caught +her diffidence.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be afraid. ‘What I don’t know about ‘oases ain’t worth +knowin’,’†he quoted with a laugh; and leaning forward he prepared to +assist her to mount.</p> + +<p>There was nothing for it but to accept, and the next minute she found +herself in the high seat beside him. Her wraps, sufficient for walking, +were scarcely sufficient for a snowy drive, and this, to his credit, the +young man saw. He unbuttoned his tweed shooting-cape, and gravely put +it round her. A curious dainty figure she made with her face all bright +with wind, framed in the great grey cloak.</p> + +<p>The horse jibbed for a second and then swung along the wild road with +the vigorous ease of good blood skilfully handled. George was puzzling +his brain all the while as to how he should tell his companion something +which she ought to know. The strong drift and the turns of the road +claimed much of his attention, so it is possible that he blurted out his +news somewhat baldly.</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Miss Wishart, that Lewis Haystoun and I are going off next +week? Abroad, you know.â€</p> + +<p>The girl, who had been enjoying the ecstasy of swift motion through the +bitter weather, glanced up at him with pain in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Where?†she asked.</p> + +<p>“To the Indian frontier. We are going to be special unpaid unofficial +members of the Intelligence Department.â€</p> + +<p>She asked the old, timid woman’s question about danger.</p> + +<p>“It’s where Lewis was before. Only, you see, things have got into a +mess thereabouts, and the Foreign Office has asked him to go out again. +By the by, you mustn’t tell any one about this, for it’s in strict +confidence.â€</p> + +<p>The words were meaningless, and yet they sent a pang through her heart. +Had he no guess at her inmost feelings? Could he think that she would +talk to Mr. Stocks of a thing which was bound up for her with all the +sorrow and ecstasy of life?</p> + +<p>He looked down and saw that her face had paled and that her mouth was +drawn with some emotion. A sudden gleam of light seemed to break in +upon him.</p> + +<p>“Are you sorry?†he asked half-unwittingly.</p> + +<p>For answer the girl turned her tragic eyes upon him, tried to speak, and +faltered. He cursed himself for a fool and a brute, and whipped up an +already over-active horse, till it was all but unmanageable. It was a +wise move, for it absorbed his attention and gave the poor child at his +side a chance to recover her composure.</p> + +<p>They came to Glenavelin gates and George turned in. “I had better drive +you to the door, in this charming weather,†he said. The sight of the +pale little face had moved him to deep pity. He cursed his blindness, +the blindness of a whole world of fools, and at the same time, with the +impotence of the honest man, he could only wait and be silent.</p> + +<p>At the door he stopped to unbutton his cape from her neck, and even in +his nervousness he felt the trembling of her body. She spoke rapidly +and painfully.</p> + +<p>“I want you to take a message from me to—to—Lewis. Tell him I must +see him. Tell him to come to the Midburn foot, to-morrow in the +afternoon. Oh, I am ashamed to ask you, but you must tell him.†And +then without thanks or good-bye she fled into the house.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><br /> +<small>THE BRIDGE OF BROKEN HEARTS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">L<small>ISTLESS</small> leaves were tossing in the light wind or borne downward in the +swirl of the flooded Midburn, to the weary shallows where they lay, +beached high and sodden, till the frost nipped and shrivelled their +rottenness into dust. A bleak, thin wind it was, like a fine sour wine, +searching the marrow and bringing no bloom to the cheek. A light snow +powdered the earth, the grey forerunner of storms.</p> + +<p>Alice stood back in the shelter of the broken parapet. The highway with +its modern crossing-place was some hundreds of yards up stream, but +here, at the burn mouth, where the turbid current joined with the cold, +glittering Avelin, there was a grass-grown track, and an ancient, +broken-backed bridge. There were few passers on the high-road, none on +this deserted way; but the girl in all her loneliness shrank back into +the shadow. In these minutes she endured the bitter mistrust, the sore +hesitancy, of awaiting on a certain but unknown grief.</p> + +<p>She had not long to wait, for Lewis came down the Avelin side by a +bypath from Etterick village. His alert gait covered his very real +confusion, but to the girl he seemed one who belonged to an alien world +of cheerfulness. He could not know her grief, and she regretted her +coming.</p> + +<p>His manners were the same courteous formalities. The man was torn with +emotion, and yet he greeted her with a conventional ease.</p> + +<p>“It was so good of you, Miss Wishart, to give me a chance to come and +say good-bye. My going is such a sudden affair, that I might have had +no time to come to Glenavelin, but I could not have left without seeing +you.â€</p> + +<p>The girl murmured some indistinct words. “I hope you will have a good +time and come back safely,†she said, and then she was tongue-tied.</p> + +<p>The two stood before each other, awkward and silent—two between whom no +word of love had ever been spoken, but whose hearts were clamouring at +the iron gates of speech.</p> + +<p>Alice’s face and neck were dyed crimson, as the impossible position +dawned on her mind. No word could break down the palisade, of form. +Lewis, his soul a volcano, struggled for the most calm and inept words. +He spoke of the weather, of her father, of his aunt’s messages.</p> + +<p>Then the girl held out her hand.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,†she said, looking away from him.</p> + +<p>He held it for a second. “Good-bye, Miss Wishart,†he said hoarsely. +Was this the consummation of his brief ecstasy, the end of months of +longing? The steel hand of fate was on him and he turned to leave.</p> + +<p>He turned when he had gone three paces and came back. The girl was +still standing by the parapet, but she had averted her face towards the +wintry waters. His step seemed to fall on deaf ears, and he stood +beside her before she looked towards him.</p> + +<p>Passion had broken down his awkwardness. He asked the old question with +a shaking voice. “Alice,†he said, “have I vexed you?â€</p> + +<p>She turned to him a pale, distraught face, her eyes brimming over with +the sorrow of love, the passionate adventurous longing which claims true +hearts for ever.</p> + +<p>He caught her in his arms, his heart in a glory of joy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Alice, darling,†he cried. “What has happened to us? I love you, +I love you, and you have never given me a chance to say it.â€</p> + +<p>She lay passive in his arms for one brief minute and then feebly drew +back.</p> + +<p>“Sweetheart,†he cried. “Sweetheart! For I will call you sweetheart, +though we never meet again. You are mine, Alice. We cannot help +ourselves.â€</p> + +<p>The girl stood as in a trance, her eyes caught and held by his face.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the misery of things,†she said half-sobbing. “I have given my +soul to another, and I knew it was not mine to give. Why, oh why, did +you not speak to me sooner? I have been hungering for you and you never +came.â€</p> + +<p>A sense of his folly choked him.</p> + +<p>“And I have made you suffer, poor darling! And the whole world is out +of joint for us!â€</p> + +<p>The hopeless feeling of loss, forgotten for a moment, came back to him. +The girl was gone from him for ever, though a bridge of hearts should +always cross the chasm of their severance.</p> + +<p>“I am going away,†he said, “to make reparation. I have my repentance +to work out, and it will be bitterer than yours, little woman. Ours +must be an austere love.â€</p> + +<p>She looked at him till her pale face flushed and a sad exultation woke +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“You will never forget?†she asked wistfully, confident of the answer.</p> + +<p>“Forget!†he cried. “It is my only happiness to remember. I am going +away to be knocked about, dear. Wild, rough work, but with a man’s +chances!â€</p> + +<p>For a moment she let another thought find harbour in her mind. Was the +past irretrievable, the future predetermined? A woman’s word had an old +right to be broken. If she went to him, would not he welcome her +gladly, and the future might yet be a heritage for both?</p> + +<p>The thought endured but a moment, for she saw how little simple was the +crux of her destiny. The two of them had been set apart by the fates; +each had salvation to work out alone; no facile union would ever join +them. For him there was the shaping of a man’s path; for her the +illumination which only sorrows and parting can bring. And with the +thought she thought kindly of the man to whom she had pledged her word. +It was but a little corner of her heart he could ever possess; but +doubtless in such matters he was not ambitious.</p> + +<p>Lewis walked by her side down the by-path towards Glenavelin. Tragedy +muffled in the garments of convention was there, not the old picturesque +Tragic with sword and cloak and steel for the enemy, but the silent +Tragic which pulls at the heart-strings.</p> + +<p>“The summer is over,†she said. “It has been a cruel summer, but very +bright.â€</p> + +<p>“Romance with the jarring modern note which haunts us all to-day,†he +said. “This upland country is confused with bustling politics, and +pastoral has been worried to death by sickness of heart. You cannot +find the old peaceful life without.â€</p> + +<p>“And within?†she asked.</p> + +<p>“That is for you and me to determine, dear. God grant it. I have found +my princess, like the man in the fairy-tale, but I may not enter the +kingdom.â€</p> + +<p>“And the poor princess must sit and mope in her high stone tower? It is +a hard world for princesses.â€</p> + +<p>“Hard for the knights, too, for they cannot come back and carry off +their ladies. In the old days it used to be so, but then simplicity has +gone out of life.â€</p> + +<p>“And the princess waits and watches and cries herself to sleep?â€</p> + +<p>“And the knight goes off to the World’s End and never forgets.â€</p> + +<p>They were at Glenavelin gates now, and stood silent against the moment +of parting. She flew to his arms, for a second his kisses were on her +lips, and then came the sundering. A storm of tears was in her heart, +but with dry eyes she said the words of good-bye. Meanwhile from the +hills came a drift of snow, and a dreary wind sang in the pines the +dirge of the dead summer, the plaint of long farewells.</p> + +<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h2> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><br /> +<small>THE EASTERN ROAD</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">I<small>F</small> you travel abroad in certain seasons you will find that a type +predominates among the travellers. From Dover to Calais, from Calais to +Paris, there is an unnatural eagerness on faces, an unrest in gait, a +disorder in dress which argues worry and haste. And if you inquire +further, being of a speculative turn, you will find that there is +something in the air. The papers, French and English, have ugly +headlines and mystic leaders. Disquiet is in the atmosphere, each man +has a solution or a secret, and far at the back sits some body of men +who know that a crisis is near and square their backs for it. The +journalist is sick with work and fancied importance; the diplomat’s hair +whitens with the game which he cannot understand; the statesman, if he +be wise, is in fear, knowing the meaning of such movements, while, if he +be foolish, he chirps optimistically in his speeches and is applauded in +the press. There are grey faces at the seats of the money-changers, for +war, the scourge of small cords, seems preparing for the overturning of +their tables, and the castigation of their persons.</p> + +<p>Lewis and George rang the bell in the Faubourg St. Honoré on a Monday +afternoon, and asked for Lord Rideaux. His lordship was out, but, if +they were the English gentlemen who had the appointment with M. Gribton, +Monsieur would be with them speedily.</p> + +<p>Lewis looked about the heavily furnished ante-room with its pale yellow +walls and thick, green curtains, with the air of a man trying to recall +a memory. “I came over here with John Lambert, when his father had the +place. That was just after I left Oxford. Gad, I was a happy man then. +I thought I could do anything. They put me next to Madame de Ravignet +because of my French, and because old Ankerville declared that I ought +to know the cleverest woman in Europe. Séry, the man who was Premier +last year, came and wrung my hand afterwards, said my fortune was +assured because I had impressed the Ravignet, and no one had ever done +it before except Bismarck. Ugh, the place is full of ghosts. Poor old +John died a year after, and here am I, far enough, God knows, from my +good intentions.â€</p> + +<p>A servant announced “Monsieur Gribton,†and a little grizzled man +hobbled in, leaning heavily on a stick. He wore a short beard, and in +his tanned face two clever grey eyes twinkled sedately. He shook hands +gravely when Lewis introduced George, but his eyes immediately returned +to the former’s face.</p> + +<p>“You look a fit pair,†he said. “I am instructed to give you all the +help in my power, but I should like to know your game. It isn’t sport +this time, is it, Haystoun? Logan is still talking about his week with +you. Well, well, we can do things at our leisure. I have letters to +write, and then it will be dinner-time, when we can talk. Come to the +club at eight, ‘Cercle des Voyageurs,’ corner of Rue Neuve de St. +Michel. I expect you belong, Haystoun; and anyway I’ll be there.â€</p> + +<p>He bowed them out with his staccato apologies, and the two returned to +their hotel to dress. Two hours later they found Gribton warming his +hands in the smoking-room of the Cercle, a fussy and garrulous +gentleman, eager for his dinner. He pointed out such people as he knew, +and was consumed with curiosity about the others. Lewis wandered about +the room before he sat down, shaking hands with several and nodding to +many.</p> + +<p>“You seem to know the whole earth,†said Gribton.</p> + +<p>“I suppose that a world of acquaintance is the only reward of +slackness,†Lewis said, laughing. “It’s a trick I have. I never forget +a face and I honestly like to see people again.â€</p> + +<p>George pulled his long moustache. “It’s simply hideous the way one is +forgotten. It’s all right for the busy people, for they shift their +sets with their fortune, but for drones like me it’s the saddest thing +in life. Before we came away, Lewie, I went up for a day to Oxford to +see about some things, and stopped a night there. I haven’t been down +long, and yet I knew nobody at the club except the treasurer, and he had +nothing to say to me except to ask after you. I went to dinner with the +dons at the high table, and I nearly perished of the blues. Little +Riddell chirped about my profession, and that bounder Jackson, who was +of our year, pretended that he had been your bosom friend. I got so +bored that I left early and wandered back to the club. Somebody was +making a racket in our old rooms in the High, windows open, you know, +and singing. I stopped to look at them, and then they started, ‘Willie +brewed a peck o’ maut,’ and, ‘pon my soul, I had to come away. Couldn’t +stand it. It reminded me so badly of you and Arthur and old John +Lambert, and all the honest men that used to be there. It was +infernally absurd that I should have got so sentimental, but that wasn’t +the worst of it. For I met Tony and he made me come round to a dinner, +and there I found people I didn’t know from Adam drinking the old toasts +we started. Gad, they had them all. ‘Las Palmas,’ ‘The Old Guard,’ +‘The Wandering Scot,’ and all the others. It made me feel as low as an +owl, and when I got back to the club and saw poor old John’s photograph +on the wall, I tell you I went to bed in the most wretched melancholy.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis stared open-mouthed at George, the irrepressible, in this new +attitude. He, as the hardened traveller, had had little more than a +decent pang of home-sickness. His regret was far deeper and more real +than the sentimental article of commerce, and he could afford to be +almost gay while George sat in the depths.</p> + +<p>“I’m coming home, and I’m not happy; you young men are going out, and +you have got the blues. There’s no pleasing weak humanity. I say, +Haystoun, who’s that old man?†Gribton’s jovial looks belied his words.</p> + +<p>Lewis mentioned a name for his host’s benefit. The room was emptying +rapidly, for the Cercle dined early.</p> + +<p>“Now for business,†said Gribton, when a waiter had brought the game +course, and they sat in the midst of a desert of linen and velvet. “I +have given the thing up, but I spent twenty of my best years at Bardur. +So, as I am instructed to do all in my power to aid you, I am ready. +First, is it sport?</p> + +<p>“Partly,†said George, but Lewis’s head gave denial.</p> + +<p>“Because, if it is, I am not the best man. Well, then, is it +geographical? For if it is, there is much to be done.â€</p> + +<p>“Partly,†said Lewis.</p> + +<p>“Then I take it that the residue is political. You are following the +popular avenue to polities, I suppose. Leave the ‘Varsity very raw, +knock about in an unintelligent way for three or four years on some +frontier, then come home, go into the House, and pose as a specialist in +foreign affairs. I should have thought you had too much humour for +that.â€</p> + +<p>“Only, you see, I have been there before. I am merely going back upon +my tracks to make sure. I go purely as an adventurer, hoping to pick up +some valuable knowledge, but prepared to fail.â€</p> + +<p>Gribton helped himself to champagne. “That’s better. Now I know your +attitude, we can talk like friends. Better come to the small +smoking-room. They’ve got a ‘51 brandy here which is beyond words. +Have some for a liqueur.â€</p> + +<p>In the smoking-room Gribton fussed about coffee and cigars for many +minutes ere he settled down. Then, when he could gaze around and see +his two guests in deep armchairs, each smoking and comfortable, he +returned to his business.</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind telling you a secret,†he said, “or rather it’s only a +secret here, for once you get out there you will find ‘Gribton’s view,’ +as they call it, well enough known and very much laughed at. I’ve +always been held up to ridicule as an alarmist about that Kashmir +frontier, and especially about that Bardur country. Take the whole +province. It’s well garrisoned on the north, but below that it is all +empty and open. The way into the Punjab is as clear as daylight for a +swift force, and the way to the Punjab is the way to India.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis rose and went to a rack on the wall. “Do you mind if I get down +maps? These French ones are very good.†He spread a sheet of canvas on +the table, thereby confounding all Gribton’s hospitable manoeuvring.</p> + +<p>“There,†said Gribton, his eyes now free from drowsiness, and clear and +bright, “that’s the road I fear.â€</p> + +<p>“But these three inches are unknown,†said Lewis. “I have been myself +as far as these hills.â€</p> + +<p>Gribton looked sharply up. “You don’t know the place as I know it. +I’ve never been so far, but I know the sheep-skinned devils who come +across from Turkestan. I tell you that place isn’t the impenetrable +craggy desert that the Government of India thinks it. There’s a road +there of some sort, and if you’re worth your salt you’ll find it out.â€</p> + +<p>“I know,†said Lewis. “I am going to try.â€</p> + +<p>“There’s another thing. For the last three years all that north part of +Kashmir, and right away south-west to the Punjab borders, has been +honoured with visits from plausible Russian gentlemen who may come down +by the ordinary caravan routes, or, on the other hand, may not. They +turn up quite suddenly with tooth-brushes and dressing-cases, and they +can’t have come from the south. They fool around in Bardur, and then go +down to Gilgit, and, I suppose, on to the Punjab. They’ve got excellent +manners, and they hang about the clubs and give dinners and charm the +whole neighbourhood. Logan is their bosom friend, and Thwaite declares +that their society reconciles him to the place. Then they go away, and +the place keeps on the randan for weeks after.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you know a man called Marker by any chance?†Lewis asked.</p> + +<p>Gribton looked curiously at the speaker. “Have you actually heard about +him? Yes, I know him, but not very well, and I can’t say I ever cared +for him. However, he is easily the most popular man in Bardur, and I +daresay is a very good fellow. But you don’t call him Russian. I +thought he was sort of half a Scotsman.â€</p> + +<p>“Very likely he is,†said Lewis. “I happen to have heard a good deal +about him. But what ails you at him?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, small things,†and the man laughed. “You know I am getting elderly +and cranky, and I like a man to be very fair and four-square. I confess +I never got to the bottom of the chap. He was a capital sportsman, good +bridge-player, head like a rock for liquor, and all that; but I’m hanged +if he didn’t seem to me to be playing some sort of game. Another thing, +he seemed to me a terribly cold-blooded devil. He was always slapping +people on the back and calling them ‘dear old fellows,’ but I happened +to see a small interview once between him and one of his servants. +Perhaps I ought not to mention it, but the thing struck me unpleasantly. +It was below the club verandah, and nobody happened to be about except +myself, who was dozing after lunch. Marker was rating a servant in some +Border tongue—Chil, it sounded like; and I remember wondering how he +could have picked it up. I saw the whole thing through a chink in the +floor, and I noticed that the servant’s face was as grey as a brown +hillman’s can be. Then the fellow suddenly caught his arm and twisted +it round, the man’s face working with pain, though he did not dare to +utter a sound. It was an ugly sight, and when I caught a glimpse of +Marker’s face, ‘pon my soul, those straight black eyebrows of his gave +him a most devilish look.â€</p> + +<p>“What’s he like to look at?†George asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’s rather tall, very straight, with a sort of military carriage, +and he has one of those perfect oval faces that you sometimes see. He +has most remarkable black eyes and very neat, thin eyebrows. He is the +sort of man you’d turn round to look at if you once passed him in the +street; and if you once saw him smile you’d begin to like him. It’s the +prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.â€</p> + +<p>“I expect I’ll run across him somewhere,†said Lewis, “and I want badly +to know him. Would you mind giving me an introduction?â€</p> + +<p>“Charmed!†said Gribton. “Shall I write it now?†And sitting down at a +table he scribbled a few lines, put them in an envelope, and gave it to +Lewis.</p> + +<p>“You are pretty certain to know him when you see him, so you can give +him that line. You might run across him anywhere from Hyderabad to +Rawal Pinch, and in any case you’ll hear word of him in Bardur. He’s +the man for your purpose; only, as I say, I never liked him. I suspect +a loop somewhere.â€</p> + +<p>“What are Logan and Thwaite like?†Lewis asked.</p> + +<p>“Easy-going, good fellows. Believe in God and the British Government, +and the inherent goodness of man. I am rather the other way, so they +call me a cynic and an alarmist.â€</p> + +<p>“But what do you fear?†said George. “The place is well garrisoned.â€</p> + +<p>“I fear four inches in that map of unknown country,†said Gribton +shortly. “The people up there call it a ‘God-given rock-wall,’ and of +course there is no force to speak of just near it. But a tribe of +devils incarnate, who call themselves the Bada-Mawidi, live on its +skirts, and there must be a road through it. It isn’t the caravan +route, which goes much farther east and is plain enough. But I know +enough of the place to know that every man who comes over the frontier +to Bardur does not come by the high-road.â€</p> + +<p>“But what could happen? Surely Bardur is strongly garrisoned enough to +block any secret raid.â€</p> + +<p>“It isn’t bad in its way, if the people were not so slack and easy. +They might rise to scratch, but, on the other hand, they might not, and +once past Bardur you have the open road to India, if you march quick +enough.â€</p> + +<p>“Then you have no man sufficiently adventurous there to do a little +exploring?â€</p> + +<p>“None. They care only about shooting, and there happens to be little in +those rocks. Besides, they trust in God and the Government of India. I +didn’t, so I became unpopular, and was voted a bore. But the work is +waiting for you young men.â€</p> + +<p>Gribton rose, yawned, and stretched himself. “Shall I tell you any +more?â€</p> + +<p>“I don’t think so,†said Lewis, smiling; “I fancy I understand, and I am +sure we are obliged to you. Hadn’t we better have a game?â€</p> + +<p>They went to the billiard-room and played two games of a hundred up, +both of which George, who had the idler’s knack in such matters, won +with ease. Gribton played so well that he became excessively +good-humoured.</p> + +<p>“I almost wish I was going out again if I had you two as company. We +don’t get the right sort out there. Our globe-trotters all want to show +their cleverness, or else they are merely fools. You will find it +miserably dull. Nothing but bad claret and cheap champagne at the +clubs, a cliquey set of English residents, and the sort of stock sport +of which you tire in a month. That’s what you may expect our frontier +towns to be like.â€</p> + +<p>“And the neighbourhood?†said Lewis, with lifted eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the neighbourhood is wonderful enough; but our people there are too +slack and stale to take advantage of it. It is a peaceful frontier, you +know, and men get into a rut as easily there as elsewhere. The +country’s too fat and wealthy, and people begin to forget the skeleton +up among the rocks in the north.â€</p> + +<p>“What are the garrisons like?â€</p> + +<p>“Good people, but far too few for a serious row, and just sufficiently +large to have time hang on their hands. Our friends the Bada-Mawidi now +and then wake them up. I see from the <i>Temps</i> that a great stirring of +the tribes in the Southern Pamirs is reported. I expect that news came +overland through Russia. It’s the sort of canard these gentry are +always getting up to justify a massing of troops on the Amu Daria in +order that some new governor may show his strategic skill. I daresay +you may find things a little livelier than I found them.â€</p> + +<p>As they went towards the Faubourg St. Honoré a bitter Paris +north-easter had begun to drift a fine powdered snow in their eyes. +Gribton shivered and turned up the collar of his fur coat. “Ugh, I +can’t stand this. It makes me sick to be back. Thank your stars that +you are going to the sun and heat, and out of this hideous grey +weather.â€</p> + +<p>They left him at the Embassy, and turned back to their hotel.</p> + +<p>“He’s a useful man,†said Lewis, “he has given us a cue; life will be +pretty well varied out there for you and me, I fancy.â€</p> + +<p>Then, as they entered a boulevard, and the real sweep of the wind met +their faces, both men fell strangely silent. To George it was the last +word of the north which they were leaving, and his recent home-sickness +came back and silenced him. But to Lewis, his mind already busy with +his errand, this sting of wind was the harsh disturber which carried him +back to a lonely home in a cold, upland valley. It was the wintry +weather which was his own, and Alice’s face, framed in a cloak, as he +had seen it at the Broken Bridge, rose in the gallery of his heart. In +a moment he was disillusioned. Success, enterprise, new lands and faces +seemed the most dismal vexation of spirit. With a very bitter heart he +walked home, and, after the fashion of his silent kind, gave no sign of +his mood save by a premature and unreasonable retirement to bed.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><br /> +<small>IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">A<small>LL</small> around was stone and scrub, rising in terraces to the foot of sheer +cliffs which opened up here and there in nullahs and gave a glimpse of +great snow hills behind them. On one of the flat ridge-tops a little +village of stunted, slaty houses squatted like an ape, with a vigilant +eye on twenty gorges. Thin, twisting paths led up to it, and before, on +the more clement slopes, some fields of grain were tilled as our Aryan +forefathers tilled the soil on the plains of Turkestan. The place was +at least 8,000 feet above the sea, so the air was highland, clear and +pleasant, save for the dryness which the great stone deserts forced upon +the soft south winds. You will not find the place marked in any map, +for it is a little beyond even the most recent geographer’s ken, but it +is none the less a highly important place, for the nameless village is +one of the seats of that most active and excellent race of men, the +Bada-Mawidi, who are so old that they can afford to look down on their +neighbours from a vantage-ground of some thousands of years. It is well +known that when God created the earth He first fashioned this tangle of +hill land, and set thereon a primitive Bada-Mawidi, the first of the +clan, who was the ancestor, in the thousandth degree, of the excellent +Fazir Khan, the present father of the tribe.</p> + +<p>The houses clustered on the scarp and enclosed a piece of well-beaten +ground and one huge cedar tree. Sounds came from the near houses, but +around the tree itself the more privileged sat in solemn conclave. Food +and wine were going the round, for the Maulai Mohammedans have no taboos +in eating and drinking. Fazir Khan sat smoking next the tree trunk, a +short, sinewy man with a square, Aryan face, clear-cut and cruel. His +chiefs were around him, all men of the same type, showing curiously fair +skins against their oiled black hair. A mullah sat cross-legged, his +straggling beard in his lap, repeating some crazy charm to himself and +looking every now and again with anxious eyes to the guest who sat on +the chief’s right hand.</p> + +<p>The guest was a long, thin man, clad in the Cossacks’ fur lined military +cloak, under which his untanned riding-boots showed red in the +moonlight. He was still busy eating goat’s flesh, cheese and fruits, +and drinking deeply from the sweet Hunza wine, like a man who had come +far and fast. He ate with the utmost disregard of his company. He +might have been a hunter supping alone in the solitary hills for all the +notice he took of the fifty odd men around him.</p> + +<p>By and by he finished, pulled forth a little silver toothpick from an +inner pocket, and reached a hand for the long cherry-wood pipe which had +been placed beside him. He lit it, and blew a few clouds into the calm +air.</p> + +<p>“Now, Fazir Khan,†he said, “I am a new man, and we shall talk. First, +have you done my bidding?â€</p> + +<p>“Thy bidding has been done,†said the great man sulkily. “See, I am +here with my chiefs. All the twenty villages of my tribe have been +warned, and arms have been got from the fools at Bardur. Also, I have +the Yarkand powder I was told of, to give the signals on the hills. The +Nazri Pass road, which we alone know, has been widened. What more could +man do?â€</p> + +<p>“That is well,†said the other. “It is well for you and your people +that you have done this. Your service shall not be forgotten. +Otherwise—â€</p> + +<p>“Otherwise?†said the Fazir Khan, his hand travelling to his belt at the +sound of a threat.</p> + +<p>The man laughed. “You know the tale,†he said. “Doubtless your mother +told you it when you clutched at her breast. Some day a great white +people from the north will come down and swallow up the disobedient. +That day is now at hand. You have been wise in time. Therefore I say +it is well.â€</p> + +<p>The stranger spoke with perfect coolness. He looked round curiously at +the circle of dark faces and laughed quietly to himself. The chief +stole one look at him and then said something to a follower.</p> + +<p>“I need not speak of the reward,†said the stranger. “You are our +servants, and duty is duty. But I have authority for saying that we +shall hold your work in mind when we have settled our business.â€</p> + +<p>“What would ye be without us?†said the chief in sudden temper. “What +do ye know of the Nazri gates or the hill country? What is this talk of +duty, when ye cannot stir a foot without our aid?â€</p> + +<p>“You are our servants, as I said before,†said the man curtly. “You +have taken our gold and our food. Where would you be, outlaws, vagrants +that you are, hated of God and man, but for our help? Your bodies would +have rotted long ago on the hills. The kites would be feeding on your +sons; your women would be in the Bokhara market. We have saved you a +dozen times from the vengeance of the English. When they wished to come +up and burn you out, we have put them past the project with smooth +words. We have fed you in famine, we have killed your enemies, we have +given you life. You are freemen indeed in the face of the world, but +you are our servants.â€</p> + +<p>Fazir Khan made a gesture of impatience. “That is as God may direct +it,†he said. “Who are ye but a people of yesterday, while the +Bada-Mawidi is as old as the rocks. The English were here before you, +and we before the English. It is right that youth should reverence +age.â€</p> + +<p>“That is one proverb,†said the man, “but there are others, and in +especial one to the effect that the man without a sword should bow +before his brother who has one. In this game we are the people with the +sword, my friends.â€</p> + +<p>The hillman shrugged his shoulders. His men looked on darkly, as if +little in love with the stranger’s manner of speech.</p> + +<p>“It is ill working in the dark,†he said at length. “Ye speak of this +attack and the aid you expect from us, but we have heard this talk +before. One of your people came down with some followers in my father’s +time, and his words were the same, but lo! nothing has yet happened.â€</p> + +<p>“Since your father’s time things have changed, my brother. Then the +English were very much on the watch, now they sleep. Then there were no +roads, or very bad ones, and before an army could reach the plains the +whole empire would have been wakened. Now, for their own undoing, they +have made roads up to the very foot of yon mountains, and there is a new +railway down the Indus through Kohistan waiting to carry us into the +heart of the Punjab. They seek out inventions for others to enjoy, as +the Koran says, and in this case we are to be the enjoyers.â€</p> + +<p>“But what if ye fail?†said the chief. “Ye will be penned up in that +Hunza valley like sheep, and I, Fazir Khan, shall be unable to unlock +the door of that sheepfold.â€</p> + +<p>“We shall not fail. This is no war of rock-pigeons, my brothers. Our +agents are in every town and village from Bardur to Lahore. The +frontier tribes, you among the rest, are rising in our favour. There is +nothing to stop us but isolated garrisons of Gurkhas and Pathans, with a +few overworked English officers at their head. In a week we shall +command the north of India, and if we hold the north, in another week we +shall hold Calcutta and Bombay.â€</p> + +<p>The chief nodded his head. Such far-off schemes pleased his fancy, but +only remotely touched his interest. Calcutta was beyond his ken, but he +knew Bardur and Gilgit.</p> + +<p>“I have little love for the race,†he said. “They hanged two of my +servants who ventured too near the rifle-room, and they shot my son in +the back when we raided the Chitralis. If ye and your friends cross the +border I will be with you. But meantime, till that day, what is my +duty?â€</p> + +<p>“To wait in patience, and above all things to let the garrisons alone. +If we stir up the hive in the valleys they may come and see things too +soon for our success. We must win by secrecy and surprise. All is lost +if we cannot reach the railway before the Punjab is stirring.â€</p> + +<p>The mullah had ceased muttering to himself. He scrambled to his feet, +shaking down his rags over his knees, a lean, crazy apparition of a man +with deep-set, smouldering eyes.</p> + +<p>“I will speak,†he cried. “Ye listen to the man’s words and ye are +silent, believing all things. Ye are silent, my children, because ye +know not. But I am old and I have seen many things, and these are my +words. Ye speak of pushing out the English from the land. Allah knows +I love not the breed! I spit upon it, I thirst for the heart of every +man, woman, and child, that I might burn them in the sight of all of +you. But I have heard this talk before. When I was a young priest at +Kufaz, there was word of this pushing out of the foreigner, and I +rejoiced, being unwise. Then there was much fighting, and at the end +more English came up the valleys and, before we knew, we were paying +tribute. Since then many of our people have gone down from the +mountains with the same thought, and they have never returned. Only the +English and the troops have crept nearer. Now this stranger talks of +his Tsar and how an army will come through the passes, and foreigner +will fight with foreigner. This talk, too, I have heard. Once there +came a man with a red beard who spoke thus, and he went down to Bardur, +and lo! our men told me that they saw him hanged there for a warning. +Let foreigner war on foreigner if they please, but what have we to do in +the quarrel, my children? Ye owe nothing to either.â€</p> + +<p>The stranger regarded the speaker with calm eyes of amusement.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,†said he, “except that we have fed you and armed you. By your +own acts you are the servants of my master.â€</p> + +<p>The mullah was rapidly working himself into a frenzy. He swung his long +bony arms across his breast and turned his face skywards. “Ye hear +that, my children. The free people, the Bada-Mawidi, of whose loins +sprang Abraham the prophet, are the servants of some foreign dog in the +north. If ye were like your fathers, ye would have long ago ere this +wiped out the taunt in blood.â€</p> + +<p>The man sat perfectly composed, save that his right hand had grasped a +revolver. He was playing a bold game, but he had played it before. And +he knew the man he had to deal with.</p> + +<p>“I say again, you are my master’s servants by your own confession. I +did not say his slaves. You are a free people, but you will serve a +greater in this affair. As for this dog who blasphemes, when we have +settled more important matters we will attend to him.â€</p> + +<p>The mullah was scarcely a popular member of his tribe, for no one +stirred at the call. The stranger sat watching him with very bright, +eager eyes. Suddenly the priest ceased his genuflexions, there was a +gleam of steel among his rags, then something bright flashed in the air. +It fell short, because at the very moment of throwing, a revolver had +cracked out in the silence, and a bullet had broken two of his fingers. +The man flung himself writhing on the ground, howling forth +imprecations.</p> + +<p>The stranger looked half apologetically at the chief, whose glum +demeanour had never relaxed. “Sorry,†he said; “it had to be done in +self-defence. But I ask your pardon for it.â€</p> + +<p>Fazir Khan nodded carelessly. “He is a disturber of peace, and to one +who cannot fight a hand matters little. But, by Allah, ye northerners +shoot quick.â€</p> + +<p>The stranger relinquished the cherry-wood pipe and filled a meerschaum +from a pouch which he carried in the pocket of his cloak. He took a +long drink from the loving-cup of mulled wine which was passing round.</p> + +<p>“Your mad priest has method in his folly,†he said. “It is true that we +are attacking a great people; therefore the more need of wariness for +you and me, Fazir Khan. If we fail there will be the devil to pay for +you. The English will shift their frontier-line beyond the mountains, +and there will be no more lifting of women and driving of cattle for the +Bada-Mawidi. You will all be sent to school, and your guns will be +taken from you.â€</p> + +<p>The chief compressed his attractive features into a savage scowl. “That +may not be in my lifetime,†he said. “Besides, are there no mountains +all around? In five hours I shall be in China, and in a little more I +might be beyond the Amu. But why talk of this? The accursed English +shall not escape us, I swear by the hilt of my sword and the hearts of +my fathers.â€</p> + +<p>A subdued murmur of applause ran around the circle.</p> + +<p>“You are men after my own heart,†said the stranger. “Meanwhile, a word +in your own ear, Fazir Khan. Dare you come to Bardur with me?â€</p> + +<p>The chief made a gesture of repugnance. “I hate that place of mud and +lime. The blood of my people cries on me when I enter the gates. But +if it is your counsel I will come with you.â€</p> + +<p>“I wish to assure myself that the place is quiet. Our success depends +upon the whole country being unsuspicious and asleep. Now if word has +got to the south, and worse still to England, there will be questions +asked and vague instructions sent up to the frontier. We shall find a +stir among the garrisons, and perhaps some visitors in the place. And +at the very worst we might find some fool inquiring about the Nazri +Pass. There was once a man in Bardur who did, but people laughed at him +and he has gone.â€</p> + +<p>“Where?†asked the chief.</p> + +<p>“To England. But he was a harmless man, and he is too old to have any +vigour.â€</p> + +<p>As the darkness grew over the hills the fires were brightened and the +curious game of <i>khoti</i> was played in groups of six. The women came to +the house-doors to sit and gossip, and listened to the harsh laughter of +their lords from beside the fires. A little after midnight, when the +stars were picked out in the deep, velvet sky, Fazir Khan and the +stranger, both muffled to the ears, stole beyond the street and +scrambled down the perilous path-ways to the south.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><br /> +<small>THE OUTPOSTS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>OWARDS</small> the close of a wet afternoon two tongas discharged Lewis, +George, two native servants, and a collection of gun-cases in the +court-yard of the one hotel in Bardur. They had made a record journey +up country, stopping to present no letters of introduction, which are +the thieves of time. Now, as Lewis found himself in the strait valley, +with the eternal snows where the sky should be, and sniffed the dry air +from the granite walls, he glowed with the pleasure of recollection.</p> + +<p>The place was the same as ever. The same medley of races perambulated +the streets. Sheep-skinned Central Asians and Mongolian merchants from +Yarkand still displayed their wares and their cunning; Hunza tribesmen, +half-clad Chitralis, wild-eyed savages from Yagistan mingled in the +narrow stone streets with the civilized Persian and Turcoman from beyond +the mountains. Kashmir sepoys, an untidy race, still took their ease in +the sun, and soldiers of South India from the Imperial Service Troops +showed their odd accoutrements and queer race mixtures. The place +looked and smelled like a kind of home, and Lewis, with one eye on the +gun-cases and one on the great hills, forgot his heart-sickness and had +leisure for the plain joys of expectation.</p> + +<p>“I am going to get to work at once,†he said, when he had washed the +dust out of his eyes and throat. “I shall go and call on the Logans +this very minute, and I expect we shall see Thwaite and some of the +soldiers at the club to-night.†So George, much against his will, was +compelled to don a fresh suit and suffer himself to be conducted to the +bungalow of the British Resident.</p> + +<p>The Sahib was from home, at Gilgit, but Madame would receive the +strangers. So the two found themselves in a drawing-room aggressively +English in its air, shaking hands with a small woman with kind eyes and +a washed-out complexion.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Logan was unaffectedly glad to see them. She had that trick of +dominating her surroundings which English ladies seem to bear to the +uttermost ends of the globe. There, in that land of snows and rock, +with savage tribesmen not thirty miles away, and the British +frontier-line something less than fifty, she gave them tea and talked +small talk with the ease and gusto of an English country home.</p> + +<p>“It’s the most unfortunate thing in the world,†she cried. “If you had +only wired, Gilbert would have stayed, but as it is he has gone down to +Gilgit about some polo ponies, and won’t be back for two days. Things +are so humdrum and easy-going up here that one loses interest in one’s +profession. Gilbert has nothing to do except arrange with the foreman +of the coolies who are making roads, and hold stupid courts, and consult +with Captain Thwaite and the garrison people. The result is that the +poor man has become crazy about golf, and wastes all his spare money on +polo ponies. You can have no idea what a godsend a new face is to us +poor people. It is simply delightful to see you again, Mr. Haystoun. +You left us about sixteen months ago, didn’t you? Did you enjoy going +back?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis said yes, with an absurd sense of the humour of the question. The +lady talked as if home had been merely an interlude, instead of the +crisis of his life.</p> + +<p>“And what did you do? And whom did you see? Please tell me, for I am +dying for a gossip.â€</p> + +<p>“I have been home in Scotland, you know. Looking after my affairs and +idling. I stood for Parliament and got beaten.â€</p> + +<p>“Really! How exciting! Where is your home in Scotland, Mr. Haystoun? +You told me once, but I have forgotten. You know I have no end of +Scotch relatives.â€</p> + +<p>“It’s in rather a remote part, a place called Etterick, in Glenavelin.â€</p> + +<p>“Glenavelin, Glenavelin,†the lady repeated. “That’s where the +Manorwaters live, isn’t it?â€</p> + +<p>“My uncle,†said Lewis.</p> + +<p>“I had a letter from a friend who was staying there in the summer. I +wonder if you ever met her. A Miss Wishart. Alice Wishart?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis strove to keep any extraordinary interest out of his eyes. This +voice from another world had broken rudely in upon his new composure.</p> + +<p>“I knew her,†he said, and his tone was of such studied carelessness +that Mrs. Logan looked up at him curiously.</p> + +<p>“I hope you liked her, for her mother was a relation of my husband, and +when I have been home the small Alice has always been a great friend of +mine. I wonder if she has grown pretty. Gilbert and I used to bet +about it on different sides. I said she would be very beautiful some +day.â€</p> + +<p>“She is very beautiful,†said Lewis in a level voice, and George, +feeling the thin ice, came to his friend’s rescue. He could at least +talk naturally of Miss Wishart.</p> + +<p>“The Wisharts took the place, you know, Mrs. Logan, so we saw a lot of +them. The girl was delightful, good sportswoman and all that sort of +thing, and capital company. I wonder she never told us about you. She +knew we were coming out here, for I told her, and she was very +interested.â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s odd, for I suppose she had read Mr. Haystoun’s book, where +my husband comes in a good deal. I shall tell her about seeing you in +my next letter. And now tell me your plans.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis’s face had begun to burn in a most compromising way. Those last +days in Glenavelin had risen again before the eye of his mind and old +wounds were reopened. The thought that Alice was not yet wholly out of +his life, that the new world was not utterly severed from the old, +affected him with a miserable delight. Mrs. Logan became invested with +an extraordinary interest. He pulled himself together to answer her +question.</p> + +<p>“Oh, our errand is much the same as last time. We want to get all the +sport we can, and if possible to cross the mountains into Turkestan. I +am rather keen on geographical work just now, and there’s a bit of land +up here which wants exploring.â€</p> + +<p>The lady laughed. “That sounds like poor dear Mr. Gribton. I suppose +you remember him? He left here in the summer, but when he lived in +Bardur he had got that northern frontier-line on the brain. He was a +horrible bore, for he would always work the conversation round to it +sooner or later. I think it was really Mr. Gribton who made people +often lose interest in these questions. They had to assume an indolent +attitude in pure opposition to his fussiness.â€</p> + +<p>“When will your husband be home?†Lewis asked.</p> + +<p>“In two days, or possibly three. I am so sorry about it. I’ll wire at +once, but it’s a slow journey, especially if he is bringing ponies. Of +course you want to see him before you start. It’s such a pity, but +Bardur is fearfully empty of men just now. Captain Thwaite has gone off +after ibex, and though I think he will be back to-morrow, I am afraid he +will be too late for my dance. Oh, really, this is lucky. I had +forgotten all about it. Of course you two will come. That will make +two more men, and we shall be quite a respectable party. We are having +a dance to-morrow night, and as the English people here are so few and +uncertain in their movements we can’t afford to miss a chance. You +<i>must</i> come. I’ve got the Thwaites and the Beresfords and the Waltons, +and some of the garrison people who are down on leave. Oh, and there’s +a man coming whom you must know. A Mr. Marker, a most delightful +person. I don’t think you met him before, but you must have heard my +husband talk about him. He is the very man for your purpose. Gilbert +says he knows the hills better than any of the Hunza tribesmen, and that +he is the best sportsman he ever met. Besides, he is such an +interesting person, very much a man of the world, you know, who has been +everywhere and knows everybody.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis congratulated himself on his luck. “I should like very much to +come to the dance, and I especially want to meet Mr. Marker.â€</p> + +<p>“He is half Scotch, too,†said the lady. “His mother was a Kirkpatrick +or some name like that, and he actually seems to talk English with a +kind of Scotch accent. Of course that may be the German part of him. +He is a Pomeranian count or something of the sort, and very rich. You +might get him to go with you into the hills.â€</p> + +<p>“I wish we could,†said Lewis falsely. His curiosity was keenly +excited.</p> + +<p>“Why does he come up here such a lot?†George asked.</p> + +<p>“I suppose because he likes to ‘knock about,’ as you call it. He is a +tremendous traveller. He has been into Tibet and all over Turkestan and +Persia. Gilbert says that he is the wonder of the age.â€</p> + +<p>“Is he here just now?â€</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t think so. I know he is coming to-morrow, because he wrote +me about it, and promised to come to my dance. But he is a very busy +man, so I don’t suppose he will arrive till just before. He wrote me +from Gilgit, so he may find Gilbert there and bring him up with him.â€</p> + +<p>Marker, Marker. The air seemed full of the strange name. Lewis saw +again Wratislaw’s wrinkled face when he talked of him, and remembered +his words. “You were within an ace of meeting one of the cleverest men +living, a cheerful being in whom the Foreign Office is more interested +than in any one else in the world.†Wratislaw had never been in the +habit of talking without good authority. This Marker must be indeed a +gentleman of parts.</p> + +<p>Then conversation dwindled. Lewis, his mind torn between bitter +memories and the pressing necessities of his mission, lent a stupid ear +to Mrs. Logan’s mild complaints, her gossip about Bardur, her eager +questions about home. George manfully took his place, and by a +fortunate clumsiness steered the flow of the lady’s talk from Glenavelin +and the Wisharts. Lewis spoke now and then, when appealed to, but he +was busy thinking out his own problem. On the morrow night he should +meet Marker, and his work would reveal itself. Meanwhile he was in the +dark, the flimsiest adventurer on the wildest of errands. This easy, +settled place, these Englishmen whose minds held fast by polo and games, +these English ladies who had no thought beyond little social devices to +relieve the monotony of the frontier, all seemed to make a mockery of +his task. He had fondly imagined himself going to a certainty of toil +and danger; to his vexation this certainty seemed to be changing into +the most conventional of visits to the most normal of places. But +to-morrow he should see Marker; and his hope revived at the prospect.</p> + +<p>“It is so pleasant seeing two fresh fellow-countrymen,†Mrs. Logan was +saying. “Do you know, you two people look quite different from our men +up here. They are all so dried up and tired out. Our complexions are +all gone, and our eyes have got that weariness of the sun in them which +never goes away even when we go home again. But you two look quite keen +and fresh and enthusiastic. You mustn’t mind compliments from an old +woman, but I wish our own people looked as nice as you. You will make +us all homesick.â€</p> + +<p>A native servant entered, more noiseless and more dignified than any +English footman, and announced another visitor. Lewis lifted his head, +and saw the lady rise, smiling, to greet a tall man who had come in with +the frankness of a privileged acquaintance. “How do you do, Mr. +Marker?†he heard. “I am so glad to see you. We didn’t dare to expect +you till to-morrow. May I introduce two English friends, Mr. Haystoun +and Mr. Winterham?â€</p> + +<p>And so the meeting came about in the simplest way. Lewis found himself +shaking hands cordially with a man who stood upright, quite in the +English fashion, and smiled genially on the two strangers. Then he took +the vacant chair by Mrs. Logan, and answered the lady’s questions with +the ease and kindliness of one who knows and likes his fellow-creatures. +He deplored Logan’s absence, grew enthusiastic about the dance, and +produced from a pocket certain sweetmeats, not made in Kashmir, for the +two children. Then he turned to George and asked pleasantly about the +journey. How did they find the roads from Gilgit? He hoped they would +get good sport, and if he could be of any service, would they command +him? He had heard of Lewis’s former visit, and, of course, he had read +his book. The most striking book of travel he had seen for long. Of +course he didn’t agree with certain things, but each man for his own +view; and he should like to talk over the matter with Mr. Haystoun. +Were they staying long? At Galetti’s of course? By good luck that was +also his headquarters. And so he talked pleasingly, in the style of a +lady’s drawing-room, while Lewis, his mind consumed with interest, sat +puzzling out the discords in his face.</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Mr. Marker, we were talking about you before you came in. +I was telling Mr. Haystoun that I thought you were half Scotch. Mr. +Haystoun, you know, lives in Scotland.â€</p> + +<p>“Do you really? Then I am a thousand times delighted to meet you, for I +have many connections with Scotland. My grandmother was a Scotswoman, +and though I have never been in your beautiful land, yet I have known +many of your people. And, indeed, I have heard of one of your name who +was a friend of my father’s—a certain Mr. Haystoun of Etterick.â€</p> + +<p>“My father,†said Lewis.</p> + +<p>“Ah, I am so pleased to hear. My father and he met often in Paris, when +they were attached to their different embassies. My father was in the +German service.â€</p> + +<p>“Your mother was Russian, was she not?†Lewis asked tactlessly, impelled +by he knew not what motive.</p> + +<p>“Ah, how did you know?†Mr. Marker smiled in reply, with the slightest +raising of the eyebrows. “I have indeed the blood of many nationalities +in my veins. Would that I were equally familiar with all nations, for I +know less of Russia than I know of Scotland. We in Germany are their +near neighbours, and love them, as you do here, something less than +ourselves.â€</p> + +<p>He talked English with that pleasing sincerity which seems inseparable +from the speech of foreigners, who use a purer and more formal idiom +than ourselves. George looked anxiously towards Lewis, with a question +in his eyes, but finding his companion abstracted, he spoke himself.</p> + +<p>“I have just arrived,†said the other simply; “but it was from a +different direction. I have been shooting in the hills, getting cool +air into my lungs after the valleys. Why, Mrs. Logan, I have been down +to Rawal Pindi since I saw you last, and have been choked with the sun. +We northerners do not take kindly to glare and dust.â€</p> + +<p>“But you are an old hand here, they tell me. I wish you’d show me the +ropes, you know. I’m very keen, but as ignorant as a babe. What sort +of rifles do they use here? I wish you’d come and look at my +ironmongery.†And George plunged into technicalities.</p> + +<p>When Lewis rose to leave, following unwillingly the convention which +forbids a guest to stay more than five minutes after a new visitor has +arrived, Marker crossed the room with them. “If you’re not engaged for +to-night, Mr. Haystoun, will you do me the honour to dine with me? I +am alone, and I think we might manage to find things to talk about.†+Lewis accepted gladly, and with one of his sweetest smiles the gentleman +returned to Mrs. Logan’s side.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /><br /> +<small>THE DINNER AT GALETTI’S</small></h2> + +<p>“I have heard of you so much,†Mr. Marker said, “and it was a lucky +chance which brought me to Bardur to meet you.†They had taken their +cigars out to the verandah, and were drinking the strong Persian coffee, +with a prospect before them of twinkling town lights, and a mountain +line of rock and snow. Their host had put on evening clothes and wore a +braided dinner-jacket which gave the faintest touch of the foreigner to +his appearance. At dinner he had talked well of a score of things. He +had answered George’s questions on sport with the readiness of an +expert; he had told a dozen good stories, and in an easy, pleasant way +he had gossiped of books and places, people and politics. His knowledge +struck both men as uncanny. Persons of minute significance in +Parliament were not unknown to him, and he was ready with a theory or an +explanation on the most recondite matters. But coffee and cigars found +him a different man. He ceased to be the enthusiast, the omnivorous and +versatile inquirer, and relapsed into the ordinary good fellow, who is +no cleverer than his neighbours.</p> + +<p>“We’re confoundedly obliged to you,†said George. “Haystoun is keen +enough, but when he was out last time he seems to have been very slack +about the sport.â€</p> + +<p>“Sort of student of frontier peoples and politics, as the newspapers +call it. I fancy that game is, what you say, ‘played out’ a little +nowadays. It is always a good cry for alarmist newspapers to send up +their circulation by, but you and I, my friend, who have mixed with +serious politicians, know its value.â€</p> + +<p>George nodded. He liked to be considered a person of importance, and he +wanted the conversation to get back to ibex.</p> + +<p>“I speak as of a different nation,†Marker said, looking towards Lewis. +“But I find the curse of modern times is this mock-seriousness. Some +centuries ago men and women were serious about honour and love and +religion. Nowadays we are frivolous and sceptical about these things, +but we are deadly in earnest about fads. Plans to abolish war, schemes +to reform criminals, and raise the condition of woman, and supply the +Bada-Mawidi with tooth-picks are sure of the most respectful treatment +and august patronage.â€</p> + +<p>“I agree,†said Lewis. “The Bada-Mawidi live there?†And he pointed to +the hill line.</p> + +<p>Marker nodded. He had used the name inadvertently as an illustration, +and he had no wish to answer questions on the subject.</p> + +<p>“A troublesome tribe, rather?†asked Lewis, noticing the momentary +hesitation.</p> + +<p>“In the past. Now they are quiet enough.â€</p> + +<p>“But I understood that there was a ferment in the Pamirs. The other +side threatened, you know.†He had almost said “your side,†but checked +himself.</p> + +<p>“Ah yes, there are rumours of a rising, but that is further west. The +Bada-Mawidi are too poor to raise two swords in the whole tribe. You +will come across them if you go north, and I can recommend them as +excellent beaters.â€</p> + +<p>“Is the north the best shooting quarter?†asked Lewis with sharp eyes. +“I am just a little keen on some geographical work, and if I can join +both I shall be glad. Due north is the Russian frontier?</p> + +<p>“Due north after some scores of the most precipitous miles in the world. +It is a preposterous country. I myself have been on the verge of it, +and know it as well as most. The geographical importance, too, is +absurdly exaggerated. It has never been mapped because there is nothing +about it to map, no passes, no river, no conspicuous mountain, nothing +but desolate, unvaried rock. The pass to Yarkand goes to the east, and +the Afghan routes are to the west. But to the north you come to a wall, +and if you have wings you may get beyond it. The Bada-Mawidi live in +some of the wretched nullahs. There is sport, of course, of a kind, but +not perhaps the best. I should recommend you to try the more easterly +hills.â€</p> + +<p>The speaker’s manner was destitute of all attempt to dissuade, and yet +Lewis felt in some remote way that this man was trying to dissuade him. +The rock-wall, the Bada-Mawidi, whatever it was, something existed +between Bardur and the Russian frontier which this pleasant gentleman +did not wish him to see.</p> + +<p>“Our plans are all vague,†he said, “and of course we are glad of your +advice.â€</p> + +<p>“And I am glad to give it, though in many ways you know the place better +than I do. Your book is the work of a very clever and observant man, if +you will excuse my saying so. I was thankful to find that you were not +the ordinary embryo-publicist who looks at the frontier hills from +Bardur, and then rushes home and talks about invasion.â€</p> + +<p>“You think there is no danger, then?â€</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, I honestly think that there is danger, but from a +different direction. Britain is getting sick, and when she is sick +enough, some people who are less sick will overwhelm her. My own +opinion is that Russia will be the people.â€</p> + +<p>“But is not that one of the old cries that you object to?†and Lewis +smiled.</p> + +<p>“It was; now it is ceasing to be a cry, and passing into a fact, or as +much a fact as that erroneous form of gratuity, prophecy, can be. Look +at Western Europe and you cannot disbelieve the evidence of your own +eyes. In France you have anarchy, the vulgarest frivolity and the +cheapest scepticism, joined with a sort of dull capacity for routine +work. Germany, the very heart of it eaten out with sentiment, either +the cheap military or the vague socialist brand. Spain and Italy +shadows, Denmark and Sweden farces, Turkey a sinful anachronism.â€</p> + +<p>“And Britain?†George asked.</p> + +<p>“My Scotch blood gives me the right to speak my mind,†said the man, +laughing. “Honestly I don’t find things much better in Britain. You +were always famous for a dogged common sense which was never tricked +with catch-words, and yet the British people seem to be growing nervous +and ingenuous. The cult of abstract ideals, which has been the curse of +the world since Adam, is as strong with you as elsewhere. The +philosophy of ‘gush’ is good enough in its place, but it is the devil in +politics.â€</p> + +<p>“That is true enough,†said Lewis solemnly. “And then you are losing +grip. A belief in sentiment means a disbelief in competence and +strength, and that is the last and fatalest heresy. And a belief in +sentiment means a foolish scepticism towards the great things of life. +There is none of the blood and bone left for honest belief. You hold +your religion half-heartedly. Honest fanaticism is a thing intolerable +to you. You are all mild, rational sentimentalists, and I would not +give a ton of it for an ounce of good prejudice.†George and Lewis +laughed.</p> + +<p>“And Russia?†they asked.</p> + +<p>“Ah, there I have hope. You have a great people, uneducated and +unspoiled. They are physically strong, and they have been trained by +centuries of serfdom to discipline and hardships. Also, there is fire +smouldering somewhere. You must remember that Russia is the +stepdaughter of the East. The people are northern in the truest sense, +but they have a little of Eastern superstition. A rational, sentimental +people live in towns or market gardens, like your English country, but +great lonely plains and forests somehow do not agree with that sort of +creed. That slow people can still believe freshly and simply, and some +day when the leader arrives they will push beyond their boundaries and +sweep down on Western Europe, as their ancestors did thirteen hundred +years ago. And you have no walls of Rome to resist them, and I do not +think you will find a Charlemagne. Good heavens! What can your +latter-day philosophic person, who weighs every action and believes only +in himself, do against an unwearied people with the fear of God in their +hearts? When that day comes, my masters, we shall have a new empire, +the Holy Eastern Empire, and this rotten surface civilization of ours +will be swept off. It is always the way. Men get into the habit of +believing that they can settle everything by talk, and fancy themselves +the arbiters of the world, and then suddenly the great man arrives, your +Caesar or Cromwell, and clears out the talkers.â€</p> + +<p>“I’ve heard something like that before. In fact, on occasions I have +said it myself. It’s a pretty idea. How long do you give this +<i>Volkerwanderung</i> to get started?â€</p> + +<p>“It will not be in our time,†said the man sadly. “I confess I am +rather anxious for it to come off. Europe is a dull place at present, +given up to Jews and old women. But I am an irreclaimable wanderer, and +it is some time since I have been home. Things may be already +changing.â€</p> + +<p>“Scarcely,†said Lewis. “And meantime where is this Slav invasion going +to begin? I suppose they will start with us here, before they cross the +Channel?â€</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly. But Britain is the least sick of the crew, so she may be +left in peace till the confirmed invalids are destroyed. At the best it +will be a difficult work. Our countrymen, you will permit the name, my +friends, have unexpected possibilities in their blood. And even this +India will be a hard nut to crack. It is assumed that Russia has but to +find Britain napping, buy a passage from the more northerly tribes, and +sweep down on the Punjab. I need not tell you how impossible such a +land invasion is. It is my opinion that when the time comes the attack +will be by sea from some naval base on the Persian Gulf. It is a mere +matter of time till Persia is the Tsar’s territory, and then they may +begin to think about invasion.â€</p> + +<p>“You think the northern road impossible! I suppose you ought to know.â€</p> + +<p>“I do, and I have some reason for my opinion. I know Afghanistan and +Chitral as few Europeans know it.â€</p> + +<p>“But what about Bardur, and this Kashmir frontier? I can understand the +difficulties of the Khyber, but this Kashmir road looks promising.â€</p> + +<p>Marker laughed a great, good-humoured, tolerant, incredulous laugh. “My +dear sir, that’s the most utter nonsense. How are you to bring an army +over a rock wall which a chamois hunter could scarcely climb? An +invading army is not a collection of winged fowl. I grant you Bardur is +a good starting-point if it were once reached. But you might as well +think of a Chinese as of a Russian invasion from the north. It would be +a good deal more possible, for there is a road to Yarkand, and +respectable passes to the north-east. But here we are shut off from the +Oxus by as difficult a barrier as the Elburz. Go up and see. There is +some shooting to be had, and you will see for yourself the sort of +country between here and Taghati.â€</p> + +<p>“But people come over here sometimes.â€</p> + +<p>“Yes, from the south, or by Afghanistan.â€</p> + +<p>“Not always. What about the Korabaut Pass into Chitral? Ianoff and the +Cossacks came through it.â€</p> + +<p>“That’s true,†said the man, as if in deep thought. “I had forgotten, +but the band was small and the thing was a real adventure.â€</p> + +<p>“And then you have Gromchevtsky. He brought his people right down +through the Pamirs.â€</p> + +<p>For a second the man’s laughing ease deserted him. He leaned his head +forward and peered keenly into Lewis’s face. Then, as if to cover his +discomposure, he fell into the extreme of bluff amusement. The +exaggeration was plain to both his hearers.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, there was poor old Gromchevtsky. But then you know he was what +you call ‘daft,’ and one never knew how much to believe. He had hatred +of the English on the brain, and he went about the northern valleys +making all sorts of wild promises on the part of the Tsar. A great +Russian army was soon to come down from the hills and restore the +valleys to their former owners. And then, after he had talked all this +nonsense, and actually managed to create some small excitement among the +tribesmen, the good fellow disappeared. No man knows where he went. +The odd thing is that I believe he has never been heard of again in +Russia to this day. Of course his mission, as he loved to call it, was +perfectly unauthorized, and the man himself was a creature of farce. He +probably came either by the Khyber or the Korabaut Pass, possibly even +by the ordinary caravan-route from Yarkand, but felt it necessary for +his mission’s sake to pretend he had found some way through the rock +barrier. I am afraid I cannot allow him to be taken seriously.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis yawned and reached out his hand for the cigars. “In any case it +is merely a question of speculative interest. We shall not fall just +yet, though you think so badly of us.â€</p> + +<p>“You will not fall just yet,†said Marker slowly, “but that is not your +fault. You British have sold your souls for something less than the +conventional mess of pottage. You are ruled in the first place by +money-bags, and the faddists whom they support to blind your eyes. If I +were a young man in your country with my future to make, do you know +what I would do? I would slave in the Stock Exchange. I would spend my +days and nights in the pursuit of fortune, and, by heaven, I would get +it. Then I would rule the market and break, crush, quietly and +ruthlessly, the whole gang of Jew speculators and vulgarians who would +corrupt a great country. Money is power with you, and I should attain +it, and use it to crush the leeches who suck our blood.â€</p> + +<p>“Good man,†said George, laughing. “That’s my way of thinking. Never +heard it better put.â€</p> + +<p>“I have felt the same,†said Lewis. “When I read of ‘rings’ and +‘corners’ and ‘trusts’ and the misery and vulgarity of it all, I have +often wished to have a try myself, and see whether average brains and +clean blood could not beat these fellows on their own ground.â€</p> + +<p>“Then why did you not?†asked Marker. “You were rich enough to make a +proper beginning.â€</p> + +<p>“I expect I was too slack. I wanted to try the thing, but there was so +much that was repulsive that I never quite got the length of trying. +Besides, I have a bad habit of seeing both sides of a question. The +ordinary arguments seemed to me weak, and it was too much fag to work +out an attitude for oneself.â€</p> + +<p>Marker looked sharply at Lewis, and George for a moment saw and +contrasted the two faces. Lewis’s keen, kindly, humorous, cultured, +with strong lines ending weakly, a face over-bred, brave and finical; +the other’s sharp, eager, with the hungry wolf-like air of ambition, +every line graven in steel, and the whole transfused, as it were, by the +fire of the eyes into the living presentment of human vigour.</p> + +<p>It was the eternal contrast of qualities, and for a moment in George’s +mind there rose a delight that two such goodly pieces of manhood should +have found a meeting-ground.</p> + +<p>“I think, you know, that we are not quite so bad as you make out,†said +Lewis quietly. “To an outsider we must appear on the brink of +incapacity, but then it is not the first time we have produced that +impression. You will still find men who in all their spiritual sickness +have kept something of that restless, hard-bitten northern energy, and +that fierce hunger for righteousness, which is hard to fight with. +Scores of people, who can see no truth in the world and are sick with +doubt and introspection and all the latter-day devils, have yet +something of pride and honour in their souls which will make them show +well at the last. If we are going to fall our end will not be quite +inglorious.â€</p> + +<p>Marker laughed and rose. “I am afraid I must leave you now. I have to +see my servant, for I am off to-morrow. This has been a delightful +meeting. I propose that we drink to its speedy repetition.â€</p> + +<p>They drank, clinking glasses in continental fashion, and the host shook +hands and departed.</p> + +<p>“Good chap,†was George’s comment. “Put us up to a wrinkle or two, and +seemed pretty sound in his politics. I wish I could get him to come and +stop with me at home. Do you think we shall run across him again?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis was looking at the fast vanishing lights of the town. “I should +think it highly probable,†he said.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br /><br /> +<small>THE TACTICS OF A CHIEF</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HERE</small> is another quarter in Bardur besides the English one. Down by the +stream side there are narrow streets built on the scarp of the rock, +hovels with deep rock cellars, and a wonderful amount of cubic space +beneath the brushwood thatch. There the trader from Yarkand who has +contraband wares to dispose of may hold a safe market. And if you were +to go at nightfall into this quarter, where the foot of the Kashmir +policeman rarely penetrates, you might find shaggy tribesmen who have +been all their lives outlaws, walking unmolested to visit their friends, +and certain Jewish gentlemen, members of the great family who have +conquered the world, engaged in the pursuit of their unlawful calling.</p> + +<p>Marker speedily left the broader streets of the European quarter, and +plunged down a steep alley which led to the stream. Half way down there +was a lane to the left in the line of hovels, and, after stopping a +moment to consider, he entered this. It was narrow and dark, but smelt +cleanly enough of the dry granite sand. There were little dark +apertures in the huts, which might have been either doors or windows, +and at one of these he stopped, lit a match, and examined it closely. +The result was satisfactory; for the man, who had hitherto been +crouching, straightened himself up and knocked. The door opened +instantaneously, and he bowed his tall head to enter a narrow passage. +This brought him into a miniature courtyard, about thirty feet across, +above which gleamed a patch of violet sky, sown with stars. Below a +door on the right a light shone, and this he pushed open, and entered a +little room.</p> + +<p>The place was richly furnished, with low couches and Persian tables, and +on the floor a bright matting. The short, square-set man sitting +smoking on the divan we have already met at a certain village in the +mountains. Fazir Khan, descendant of Abraham, and father and chief of +the Bada-Mawidi, has a nervous eye and an uneasy face to-night, for it +is a hard thing for a mountaineer, an inhabitant of great spaces, to sit +with composure in a trap-like room in the citadel of a foe who has many +acts of rape and murder to avenge on his body. To do Fazir Khan justice +he strove to conceal his restlessness under the usual impassive calm of +his race. He turned his head slightly as Marker entered, nodded gravely +over the bowl of his pipe, and pointed to the seat at the far end of the +divan.</p> + +<p>“It is a dark night,†he said. “I heard you stumbling on the causeway +before you entered. And I have many miles to cover before dawn.â€</p> + +<p>Marker nodded. “Then you must make haste, my friend. You must be in +the hills by daybreak, for I have some errands I want you to do for me. +I have to-night been dining with two strangers, who have come up from +the south.â€</p> + +<p>The chief’s eyes sparkled. “Do they suspect?â€</p> + +<p>“Nothing in particular, everything in general. They are English. One +was here before and got far up into your mountains. He wrote a clever +book when he returned, which made people think. They say their errand +is sport, and it may be. On the other hand I have a doubt. One has not +the air of the common sportsman. He thinks too much, and his eyes have +a haggard look. It is possible that they are in their Government’s +services and have come to reconnoitre.â€</p> + +<p>“Then we are lost,†said Fazir Khan sourly. “It was always a fool’s +plan, at the mercy of any wandering Englishman.â€</p> + +<p>“Not so,†said Marker. “Nothing is lost, and nothing will be lost. But +I fear these two men. They do not bluster and talk at random like the +others. They are so very quiet that they may mean danger.â€</p> + +<p>“They must remain here,†said the chief. “Give me the word, and I will +send one of my men to hough their horses and, if need be, cripple +themselves.â€</p> + +<p>Marker laughed. “You are an honest fool, Fazir Khan. That sort of +thing is past now. We live in the wrong times and places for it. We +cannot keep them here, but we must send them on a goose-chase. Do you +understand?â€</p> + +<p>“I understand nothing. I am a simple man and my ways are simple, and +not as yours.â€</p> + +<p>“Then attend to my words, my friend. Our expedition must be changed and +made two days sooner. That will give these two Englishmen three days +only to checkmate it. Besides, they are ignorant, and to-morrow is lost +to them, for they go to a ball at the Logan woman’s. Still, I fear them +with two days to work in. If they go north, they are clever and +suspicious, and they may see or fancy enough to wreck our plans. They +may have the way barred, and we know how little would bar the way.â€</p> + +<p>“Ten resolute men,†said the chief. “Nay, I myself, with my two sons, +would hold a force at bay there.â€</p> + +<p>“If that is true, how much need is there to be wary beforehand! Since +we cannot prevent these men from meddling, we can give them rope to +meddle in small matters. Let us assume that they have been sent out by +their Government. They are the common make of Englishmen, worshipping a +god which they call their honour. They will do their duty if they can +find it out. Now there is but one plan, to create a duty for them which +will take them out of the way.â€</p> + +<p>The chief was listening with half-closed eyes. He saw new trouble for +himself and was not cheerful.</p> + +<p>“Do you know how many men Holm has with him at the Forza camp?â€</p> + +<p>“A score and a half. Some of my people passed that way yesterday, when +the soldiers were parading.â€</p> + +<p>“And there are two more camps?</p> + +<p>“There are two beyond the Nazri Pass, on the fringe of the Doorab hills. +We call the places Khautmi-sa and Khautmi-bana, but the English have +their own names for them.â€</p> + +<p>Marker nodded.</p> + +<p>“I know the places. They are Gurkha camps. The officers are called +Mitchinson and St. John. They will give us little trouble. But the +Forza garrison is too near the pass for safety, and yet far enough away +for my plans.†And for a moment the man’s eyes were abstracted, as if in +deep thought.</p> + +<p>“I have another thing to tell of the Forza camp,†the chief interrupted. +“The captain, the man whom they call Holm, is sick, so sick that he +cannot remain there. He went out shooting and came too near to +dangerous places, so a bullet of one of my people’s guns found his leg. +He will be coming to Bardur to-morrow. Is it your wish that he be +prevented?</p> + +<p>“Let him come,†said Marker. “He will suit my purpose. Now I will tell +you your task, Fazir Khan, for it is time that you took the road. You +will take a hundred of the Bada-Mawidi and put them in the rocks round +the Forza camp. Let them fire a few shots but do no great damage, lest +this man Holm dare not leave. If I know the man at all, he will only +hurry the quicker when he hears word of trouble, for he has no stomach +for danger, if he can get out of it creditably. So he will come down +here to-morrow with a tale of the Bada-Mawidi in arms, and find no men +in the place to speak of, except these two strangers. I will have +already warned them of this intended rising, and if, as I believe, they +serve the Government, they will let no grass grow below their feet till +they get to Forza. Then on the day after let your tribesmen attack the +place, not so as to take it, but so as to make a good show of fight and +keep the garrison employed. This will keep these young men quiet; they +will think that all rumours they may have heard culminate in this rising +of yours, and they will be content, and satisfied that they have done +their duty. Then, the day after, while they are idling at Forza, we +will slip through the passes, and after that there will be no need for +ruses.â€</p> + +<p>The chief rose and pulled himself up to his full height. “After that,†+he said, “there will be work for men. God! We shall harry the valleys +as our forefathers harried them, and we shall suck the juicy plains dry. +You will give us a free hand, my lord?â€</p> + +<p>“Your hand shall be free enough,†said Marker. “But see that every word +of my bidding is done. We fail utterly unless all is secret and swift. +It is the lion attacking the village. If he crosses the trap gate safely +he may ravage at his pleasure, but there is first the trap to cross. And +now it is your time to leave.â€</p> + +<p>The mountaineer tightened his girdle, and exchanged his slippers for +deer-hide boots. He bowed gravely to the other and slipped out into the +darkness of the court. Marker drew forth some plans and writing +materials from his great-coat pocket and spread them before him on the +table. It was a thing he had done a hundred times within the last week, +and as he made his calculations again and traced his route anew, his +action showed the tinge of nervousness to which the strongest natures at +times must yield. Then he wrote a letter, and, yawning deeply, he shut +up the place and returned to Galetti’s.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br /><br /> +<small>MRS. LOGAN’S BALL</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">W<small>HEN</small> Lewis had finished breakfast next morning, and was sitting idly on +the verandah watching the busy life of the bazaar at his feet, a letter +was brought him by a hotel servant. “It was left for you by Marker +Sahib, when he went away this morning. He sent his compliments to the +sahibs and regretted that he had to leave too early to speak with them, +but he left this note.†Lewis broke the envelope and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>DEAR MR. HAYSTOUN,</p> + +<p>When I was thinking over our conversation last night, chance put a +piece of information in my way which you may think fit to use. You +know that I am more intimate than most people with the hill tribes. +Well, let this be the guarantee of my news, but do not ask how I +got it, for I cannot betray friends. Some of these, the Bada-Mawidi +to wit, are meditating mischief. The Forza camp, which I think you +have visited—a place some twenty miles off—is too near those +villages to be safe. So to-morrow at latest they have planned to +make a general attack upon it, and, unless the garrison were +prepared, I should fear for the result, for they are the most +cunning scoundrels in the world. What puzzles me is how they have +ever screwed up the courage for such a move, for lately they were +very much in fear of the Government. It appears as if they looked +for backing from over the frontier. You will say that this proves +your theory; but to me it merely seems as if some maniac of the +Gromchevtsky type had got among them. In any case I wish something +could be done. My duties take me away at once, and in a very +different direction, but perhaps you could find some means of +putting the camp on their guard. I should be sorry to hear of a +tragedy; also I should be sorry to see the Bada-Mawidi get into +trouble. They are foolish blackguards, but amusing.</p> + +<p>Yours most sincerely,</p> + +<p>ARTHUR MARKER.</p></div> + +<p>Lewis read the strange letter several times through, then passed it to +George. George read it with difficulty, not being accustomed to a +flowing frontier hand. “Jolly decent of him, I call it,†was his +remark.</p> + +<p>“I would give a lot to know what to make of it. The man is playing some +game, but what the deuce it is I can’t fathom.â€</p> + +<p>“I suppose we had better get up to that Forza place as soon as we can.â€</p> + +<p>“I think not,†said Lewis.</p> + +<p>“The man’s honest, surely?â€</p> + +<p>“But he is also clever. Remember who he is. He may wish to get us out +of the way. I don’t suppose that he can possibly fear us, but he may +want the coast clear from suspicious spectators. Besides, I don’t see +the good of Forza. It is not the part of the hills I want to explore. +There can be no frontier danger there, and at the worst there can be +nothing more than a little tribal disturbance. Now what on earth would +Russia gain by moving the tribes there, except as a blind?â€</p> + +<p>“Still, you know, the man admits all that in his letter. And if the +people up there are going to be in trouble we ought to go and give them +notice.â€</p> + +<p>“I’ll take an hour to think over it, and then I’ll go and see Thwaite. +He was to be back this morning.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis spread the letter before him. It was a simple, friendly note, +giving him a chance of doing a good turn to friends. His clear course +was to lay it before Thwaite and shift the responsibility for action to +his shoulders. But he felt all the while that this letter had a +personal application which he could not conceal. It would have been as +easy for Marker to send the note to Thwaite, whom he had long known. +But he had chosen to warn him privately. It might be a ruse, but he had +no glimpse of the meaning. Or, again, it might be a piece of pure +friendliness, a chance of unofficial adventure given by one wanderer to +another. He puzzled it out, lamenting that he was so deep in the dark, +and cursing his indecision. Another man would have made up his mind +long ago; it was a ruse, therefore let it be neglected and remain in +Bardur with open eyes; it was good faith and a good chance, therefore +let him go at once. But to Lewis the possibilities seemed endless, and +he could find no solution save the old one of the waverer, to wait for +further light.</p> + +<p>He found Thwaite at breakfast, just returned from his travels.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Haystoun. I heard you were here. Awfully glad to see you. Sit +down, won’t you, and have some breakfast.†The officer was a long man, +with a thin, long face, a reddish moustache, and small, blue eyes.</p> + +<p>“I came to ask you questions, if you don’t mind. I have the regular +globe-trotter’s trick of wanting information. What’s the Forza camp +like? Do you think that the Bada-Mawidi, supposing they stir again, +would be likely to attack it?â€</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it. That was the sort of thing that Gribton was always +croaking about. Why, man, the Bada-Mawidi haven’t a kick in them. +Besides, they are very nearly twenty miles off and the garrison’s a very +fit lot. They’re all right. Trust them to look after themselves.â€</p> + +<p>“But I have been hearing stories of Bada-Mawidi risings which are to +come off soon.â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’ll always hear stories of that sort. All the old women in the +neighbourhood purvey them.â€</p> + +<p>“Who are in charge at Forza?â€</p> + +<p>“Holm and Andover. Don’t care much for Holm, but Andy is a good chap. +But what’s this new interest of yours? Are you going up there?</p> + +<p>“I’m out here to shoot and explore, you know, so Forza comes into my +beat. Thanks very much. See you to-night, I suppose.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis went away dispirited and out of temper. He had been pitchforked +among easy-going people, when all the while mysterious things, dangerous +things, seemed to hang in the air. He had not the material for even the +first stages of comprehension. No one suspected, every one was +satisfied; and at the same time came those broken hints of other things. +He felt choked and muffled, wrapped in the cotton-wool of this easy +life; and all the afternoon he chafed at his own impotence and the +world’s stupidity.</p> + +<p>When the two travellers presented themselves at the Logans’ house that +evening, they were immediately seized upon by the hostess and compelled, +to their amusement, to do her bidding. They were her discoveries, her +new young men, and as such, they had their responsibilities. George, +who liked dancing, obeyed meekly; but Lewis, being out of temper and +seeing before him an endless succession of wearisome partners, soon +broke loose, and accompanied Thwaite to the verandah for a cigar.</p> + +<p>The man was ill at ease, and the sight of young faces and the sound of +laughter vexed him with a sense of his eccentricity. He could never, +like George, take the world as he found it. At home he was the slave of +his own incapacity; now he was the slave of memories. He had come out +on an errand, with a chance to recover his lost self-respect, and lo! +he was as far as ever from attainment. His lost capacity for action was +not to be found here, in the midst of this petty diplomacy and +inglorious ease.</p> + +<p>From the verandah a broad belt of lawn ran down to the edge of the north +road. It lay shining in the moonlight like a field of snow with the +highway a dark ribbon beyond it. Thwaite and Lewis walked down to the +gate talking casually, and at the gate they stopped and looked down on +the town. It lay a little to the left, the fort rising black before it, +and the road ending in a patch of shade which was the old town gate. +The night was very still, cool airs blew noiselessly from the hills, and +a jackal barked hoarsely in some far-off thicket.</p> + +<p>The men hung listlessly on the gate, drinking in the cool air and +watching the blue cigar smoke wreathe and fade. Suddenly down the road +there came the sound of wheels.</p> + +<p>“That’s a tonga,†said Thwaite. “Wonder who it is.â€</p> + +<p>“Do tongas travel this road?†Lewis asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, they go ten miles up to the foot of the rocks. We use them for +sending up odds and ends to the garrisons. After that coolies are the +only conveyance. Gad, I believe this thing is going to stop.â€</p> + +<p>The thing in question, which was driven by a sepoy in bright yellow +pyjamas, stopped at the Logans’ gate. A peevish voice was heard giving +directions from within.</p> + +<p>“It sounds like Holm,†said Thwaite, walking up to it, “and upon my soul +it is Holm. What on earth are you doing here, my dear fellow?â€</p> + +<p>“Is that you, Thwaite?†said the voice. “I wish you’d help me out. I +want Logan to give me a bed for the night. I’m infernally ill.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis looked within and saw a pale face and bloodshot eyes which did not +belie the words.</p> + +<p>“What is it?†said Thwaite. “Fever or anything smashed?â€</p> + +<p>“I’ve got a bullet in my leg which has got to be cut out. Got it two +days ago when I was out shooting. Some natives up in the rocks did it, +I fancy. Lord, how it hurts.†And the unhappy man groaned as he tried +to move.</p> + +<p>“That’s bad,†said Thwaite sympathetically. “The Logans have got a +dance on, but we’ll look after you all right. How did you leave things +in Forza?â€</p> + +<p>“Bad. I oughtn’t to be here, but Andy insisted. He said I would only +get worse and crock entirely. Things look a bit wild up there just now. +There has been a confounded lot of rifle-stealing, and the Bada-Mawidi +are troublesome. However, I hope it’s only their fun.â€</p> + +<p>“I hope so,†said Thwaite. “You know Haystoun, don’t you?â€</p> + +<p>“Glad to meet you,†said the man. “Heard of you. Coming up our way? I +hope you will after I get this beastly leg of mine better.â€</p> + +<p>“Thwaite will tell you I have been cross-examining him about your place. +I wanted badly to ask you about it, for I got a letter this morning from +a man called Marker with some news for you.â€</p> + +<p>“What did he say?†asked Holm sharply.</p> + +<p>“He said that he had heard privately that the Bada-Mawidi were planning +an attack on you to-morrow or the day after.â€</p> + +<p>“The deuce they are,†said Holm peevishly, and Thwaite’s face +lengthened.</p> + +<p>“And he told me to find some way of letting you know.â€</p> + +<p>“Then why didn’t you tell me earlier?†said Thwaite. “Marker should +know if anybody does. We should have kept Holm up there. Now it’s +almost too late. Oh, this is the devil!â€</p> + +<p>Lewis held his peace. He had forgotten the solidity of Marker’s +reputation.</p> + +<p>“What’s the chances of the place?†Thwaite was asking. “I know your +numbers and all that, but are they anything like prepared?â€</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,†said Holm miserably. “They might get on all right, but +everybody is pretty slack just now. Andy has a touch of fever, and some +of the men may get leave for shooting. I must get back at once.â€</p> + +<p>“You can’t. Why, man, you couldn’t get half way. And what’s more, I +can’t go. This place wants all the looking after it can get. A row in +the hills means a very good possibility of a row in Bardur, and that is +too dangerous a game. And besides myself there is scarcely a man in the +place who counts. Logan has gone to Gilgit, and there’s nobody left but +boys.â€</p> + +<p>“If you don’t mind I should like to go,†said Lewis shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>“You,†they cried. “Do you know the road?â€</p> + +<p>“I’ve been there before, and I remember it more or less. Besides, it is +really my show this time. I got the warning, and I want the credit.†+And he smiled.</p> + +<p>“The road’s bound to be risky,†said Thwaite thoughtfully. “I don’t +feel inclined to let you run your neck into danger like this.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis was busy turning over the problem in his mind. The presence of +the man Holm seemed the one link of proof he needed. He had his word +that there were signs of trouble in the place, and that the Bada-Mawidi +were ill at ease. Whatever game Marker was playing, on this matter he +seemed to have spoken in good faith. Here was a clear piece of work for +him. And even if it was fruitless it would bring him nearer to the +frontier; his expedition to the north would be begun.</p> + +<p>“Let me go,†he said. “I came out here to explore the hills and I take +all risks on my own head. I can give them Marker’s message as well as +anybody else.â€</p> + +<p>Thwaite looked at Holm. “I don’t see why he shouldn’t. You’re a wreck, +and I can’t leave my own place.â€</p> + +<p>“Tell Andy you saw me,†cried Holm. “He’ll be anxious. And tell him to +mind the north gate. If the fools knew how to use dynamite they might +have it down at once. If they attack it can’t last long, but then they +can’t last long either, for they are hard up for arms, and unless they +have changed since last week they have no ammunition to speak of.â€</p> + +<p>“Marker said it looked as if they were being put up to the job from over +the frontier.â€</p> + +<p>“Gad, then it’s my turn to look out,†said Thwaite. “If it’s the +gentlemen from over the frontier they won’t stop at Forza. Lord, I hate +this border business, it’s so hideously in the dark. But I think that’s +all rot. Any tribal row here is sure to be set down to Russian +influence. We don’t understand the joint possession of an artificial +frontier,†he added, with an air of quoting from some book.</p> + +<p>“Did you get that from Marker?†Holm asked crossly. “He once said the +same thing to me.†His temper had suffered badly among the hills.</p> + +<p>“We’d better get you to bed, my dear fellow,†said Thwaite, looking down +at him. “You look remarkably cheap. Would you mind going in and trying +to find Mrs. Logan, Haystoun? I’ll carry this chap in. Stop a minute, +though. Perhaps he’s got something to say to you.â€</p> + +<p>“Mind the north gate ... tell Andy I’m all right and make him look +after himself ... he’s overworking ... if you want to send a +message to the other people you’d better send by Nazri ... if the +Badas mean business they’ll shut up the road you go by. That’s all. +Good luck and thanks very much.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis found Mrs. Logan making a final inspection of the supper-room. +She ran to the garden, to find the invalid Holm in Thwaite’s arms at the +steps of the verandah. The sick warrior pulled off an imaginary cap and +smiled feebly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Holm, I’m so sorry. Of course we can have you. I’ll put you in +the other end of the house where you won’t be so much troubled with the +noise. You must have had a dreadful journey.†And so forth, with the +easy condolences of a kind woman.</p> + +<p>When Thwaite had laid down his burden, he turned to Lewis.</p> + +<p>“I wish we had another man, Haystoun. What about your friend Winterham? +One’s enough to do your work, but if the thing turns out to be serious, +there ought to be some means of sending word. Andover will want you to +stay, for they are short-handed enough.â€</p> + +<p>“I’ll get Winterham to go and wait for me somewhere. If I don’t turn up +by a certain time, he can come and look for me.â€</p> + +<p>“That will do,†said Thwaite, “though it’s a stale job for him. Well, +good-bye and good luck to you. I expect there won’t be much trouble, +but I wish you had told us in the morning.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis turned to go and find George. “What a chance I had almost +missed,†was the word in his heart. The errand might be futile, the +message a blind, but it was at least movement, action, a possibility.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br /><br /> +<small>FRIEND TO FRIEND</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">H<small>E</small> found George sitting down in the verandah after waltzing. His +partner was a sister of Logan’s, a dark girl whose husband was Resident +somewhere in Lower Kashmir. The lady gave her hand to Lewis and he took +the vacant seat on the other side.</p> + +<p>He apologized for carrying off her companion, escorted her back to the +ballroom, and then returned to satisfy the amazed George.</p> + +<p>“I want to talk to you. Excuse my rudeness, but I have explained to +Mrs. Tracy. I have a good many things I want to say to you.â€</p> + +<p>“Where on earth have you been all night, Lewis? I call it confoundedly +mean to go off and leave me to do all the heavy work. I’ve never been +so busy in my life. Lots of girls and far too few men. This is the +first breathing space I’ve had. What is it that you want?â€</p> + +<p>“I am going off this very moment up into the hills. That letter Marker +sent me this morning has been confirmed. Holm, who commands up at the +Forza fort, has just come down very sick, and he says that the +Bada-Mawidi are looking ugly, and that we should take Marker’s word. He +wanted to go back himself but he is too ill, and Thwaite can’t leave +here, so I am going. I don’t expect there will be much risk, but in +case the rising should be serious I want you to do me a favour.â€</p> + +<p>“I suppose I can’t come with you,†said George ruefully. “I know I +promised to let you go your own way before we came out, but I wish you +would let me stick by you. What do you want me to do?â€</p> + +<p>“Nothing desperate,†said Lewis, laughing. “You can stay on here and +dance till sunrise if you like. But to-morrow I want you to come up to +a certain place at the foot of the hills which I will tell you about, +and wait there. It’s about half distance between Forza and the two +Khautmi forts. If the rising turns out to be a simple affair I’ll join +you there to-morrow night and we can start our shooting. But if I +don’t, I want you to go up to the Khautmi forts and rouse St. John and +Mitchinson and get them to send to Forza. Do you see?â€</p> + +<p>Lewis had taken out a pencil and began to sketch a rough plan on +George’s shirt cuff. “This will give you an idea of the place. You can +look up a bigger map in the hotel, and Thwaite or any one will give you +directions about the road. There’s Forza, and there are the Khautmis +about twenty miles west. Half-way between the two is that long Nazri +valley, and at the top is a tableland strewn with boulders where you +shoot mountain sheep. I’ve been there, and the road between Khautmi and +Forza passes over it. I expect it is a very bad road, but apparently +you can get a little Kashmir pony to travel it. To the north of that +plateau there is said to be nothing but rock and snow for twenty miles +to the frontier. That may be so, but if this thing turns out all right +we’ll look into the matter. Anyway, you have got to pitch your tent +to-morrow on that tableland just above the head of the Nazri gully. +With luck I should be able to get to you some time in the afternoon. If +I don’t turn up, you go off to Khautmi next morning at daybreak and give +them my message. If I can’t come myself I’ll find a way to send word; +but if you don’t hear from me it will be fairly serious, for it will +mean that the rising is a formidable thing after all. And that, of +course, will mean trouble for everybody all round. In that case you’d +better do what St. John and Mitchinson tell you. You’re sure to be +wanted.â€</p> + +<p>George’s face cleared. “That sounds rather sport. I’d better bring up +the servants. They might turn out useful. And I suppose I’ll bring a +couple of rifles for you, in case it’s all a fraud and we want to go +shooting. I thought the place was going to be stale, but it promises +pretty well now.†And he studied the plan on his shirt cuff. Then an +idea came to him.</p> + +<p>“Suppose you find no rising. That will mean that Marker’s letter was a +blind of some sort. He wanted to get you out of the way or something. +What will you do then? Come back here?â€</p> + +<p>“N—o,†said Lewis hesitatingly. “I think Thwaite is good enough, and I +should be no manner of use. You and I will wait up there in the hills +on the off-chance of picking up some news. I swear I won’t come back +here to hang about and try and discover things. It’s enough to drive a +man crazy.â€</p> + +<p>“It is rather a ghastly place. Wonder how the Logans thrive here. Odd +mixture this. Strauss and hill tribes not twenty miles apart.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis laughed. “I think I prefer the hill tribes. I am not in the +humour for Strauss just now. I shall have to be off in an hour, so I am +going to change. See you to-morrow, old man.â€</p> + +<p>George retired to the ballroom, where he had to endure the reproaches of +Mrs. Logan. He was an abstracted and silent partner, and in the +intervals of dancing he studied his cuff. Miss A talked to him of polo, +and Miss B of home; Miss C discovered that they had common friends, and +Miss D that she had known his sister. Miss E, who was more observant, +saw the cause of his distraction and asked, “What queer hieroglyphics +have you got on your cuff, Mr. Winterham?â€</p> + +<p>George looked down in a bewildered way at his sleeve. “Where on earth +have I been?†he asked in wonder. “That’s the worst of being an +absent-minded fellow. I’ve been scribbling on my cuff with my programme +pencil.â€</p> + +<p>Soon he escaped, and made his way down to the garden gate, where Thwaite +was standing smoking. A <i>sais</i> held a saddled pony by the road-side. +Lewis, in rough shooting clothes, was preparing to mount. From indoors +came the jigging of a waltz tune and the sound of laughter, while far in +the north the cliffs of the pass framed a dark blue cleft where the +stars shone. George drew in great draughts of the cool, fresh air. “I +wish I was coming with you,†he said wistfully.</p> + +<p>“You’ll be in time enough to-morrow,†said Lewis. “I wish you’d give +him all the information you can about the place, Thwaite. He’s an +ignorant beggar. See that he remembers to bring food and matches. The +guns are the only things I can promise he won’t forget.â€</p> + +<p>Then he rode off, the little beast bucking excitedly at the patches of +moonlight, and the two men walked back to the house.</p> + +<p>“Hope he comes back all right,†said Thwaite. “He’s too good a man to +throw away.â€</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br /><br /> +<small>THE ROAD TO FORZA</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> road ran in a straight line through the valley of dry rocks, a dull, +modern road, engineered and macadamized up to the edge of the hills. +The click of hoofs raised echoes in the silence, for in all the great +valley, in the chain of pools in the channel, the acres of sun-dried +stone, the granite rocks, the tangle of mountain scrub, there seemed no +life of bird or beast. It was a strange, deathly stillness, and +overhead the purple sky, sown with a million globes of light, seemed so +near and imminent that the glen for the moment was but a vast jewel-lit +cavern, and the sky a fretted roof which spanned the mountains.</p> + +<p>For the first time Lewis felt the East. Hitherto he had been unable to +see anything in his errand but its futility. A stupider man, with a +sharp, practical brain, would have taken himself seriously and come to +Bardur with an intent and satisfied mind. He would have assumed the air +of a diplomatist, have felt the dignity of his mission, and in success +and failure have borne himself with self-confidence. But to Lewis the +business which loomed serious in England, at Bardur took on the colour +of comedy. He felt his impotence, he was touched insensibly by the easy +content of the place. Frontier difficulties seemed matters for romance +and comic opera; and Bardur resolved itself into an English suburb, all +tea-parties and tennis. But at times an austere conscience jogged him +to remembrance, and in one such fitful craving for action and enterprise +he had found this errand. Now at last, astride the little Kashmir pony, +with his face to the polestar and the hills, he felt the mystery of a +strange world, and his work assumed a tinge of the adventurer. This was +new, he told himself; this was romance. He had his eyes turned to a new +land, and the smell of dry mountain sand and scrub, and the vault-like, +imperial sky were the earnest of his inheritance. This was the East, +the gorgeous, the impenetrable. Before him were the hill deserts, and +then the great, warm plains, and the wide rivers, and then on and on to +the cold north, the steppes, the icy streams, the untrodden forests. To +the west and beyond the mountains were holy mosques, “shady cities of +palm trees,†great walled towns to which north and west and south +brought their merchandise. And to the east were latitudes more +wonderful, the uplands of the world, the impassable borders of the +oldest of human cultures. Names rang in his head like tunes—Khiva, +Bokhara, Samarkand, the goal of many boyish dreams born of clandestine +suppers and the Arabian Nights. It was an old fierce world he was on +the brink of, and the nervous frontier civilization fell a thousand +miles behind him.</p> + +<p>The white road turned to the right with the valley, and the hills crept +down to the distance of a gun-shot. The mounting tiers of stone and +brawling water caught the moonlight in waves, and now he was in a cold +pit of shadow and now in a patch of radiant moonshine. It was a world +of fantasy, a rousing world of wintry hill winds and sudden gleams of +summer. His spirits rose high, and he forgot all else in plain +enjoyment. Now at last he had found life, rich, wild, girt with +marvels. He was beginning to whistle some air when his pony shied +violently and fell back, and at the same moment a pistol-shot cracked +out of a patch of thorn.</p> + +<p>He turned the beast and rode straight at the thicket, which was a very +little one. The ball had wandered somewhere into the void, and no harm +was done, but he was curious about its owner. Up on the hillside he +seemed to see a dark figure scrambling among the cliffs in the fretted +moonlight.</p> + +<p>It is unpleasant to be shot at in the dark from the wayside, but at the +moment the thing pleased this strange young man. It seemed a token that +at last he was getting to work. He found a rope stretched taut across +the road, which accounted for the pony’s stumble. Laughing heartily, he +cut it with his knife, and continued, cheerful as before, but somewhat +less fantastic. Now he kept a sharp eye on all wayside patches.</p> + +<p>At the head of the valley the waters of the stream forked into two +torrents, one flowing from the east in an open glen up which ran the +road to Yarkand, the other descending from the northern hills in a wild +gully. At the foot stood a little hut with an apology for stabling, +where an old and dirty gentleman of the Hunza race pursued his calling +till such time as he should attract the notice of his friends up in the +hills and go to paradise with a slit throat.</p> + +<p>Lewis roused the man with a violent knocking at the door. The old +ruffian appeared with a sputtering lamp which might have belonged to a +cave man, and a head of matted grey hair which suggested the same +origin. He was old and suspicious, but at Lewis’s bidding he hobbled +forth and pointed out the stabling.</p> + +<p>“The pony is to stay here till it is called for. Do you hear? And if +Holm Sahib returns and finds that it is not fed he will pay you nothing. +So good night, father. Sound sleep and a good conscience.â€</p> + +<p>He turned to the twisting hill road which ran up from the light into the +gloom of the cleft with all the vigour of an old mountaineer who has +been long forced to dwell among lowlands. Once a man acquires the art +of hill walking he will always find flat country something of a burden, +and the mere ascent of a slope will have a tonic’s power. The path was +good, but perilous at the best, and the proximity of yawning precipices +gave a zest to the travel. The road would fringe a pit of shade, black +but for the gleam of mica and the scattered foam of the stream. It was +no longer a silent world. Hawks screamed at times from the cliffs, and +a multitude of bats and owls flickered in the depths. A continuous +falling of waters, an infinite sighing of night winds, the swaying and +tossing which is always heard in the midmost mountain solitudes, the +crumbling of hill gravel and the bleat of a goat on some hill-side, all +made a cheerful accompaniment to the scraping of his boots on the rocky +road.</p> + +<p>He remembered the way as if he had travelled it yesterday. Soon the +gorge would narrow and he would be almost at the water’s edge. Then the +path turned to the right and wound into the heart of a side nullah, +which at length brought it out on a little plateau of rocks. There the +road climbed a long ridge till at last it reached the great plateau, +where Forza, set on a small hilltop, watched thirty miles of primeval +desert. The air was growing chilly, for the road climbed steeply and +already it was many thousand feet above the sea. The curious salt smell +which comes from snow and rock was beginning to greet his nostrils. The +blood flowed more freely in his veins, and insensibly he squared his +shoulders to drink in the cold hill air. It was of the mountains and +yet strangely foreign, an air with something woody and alpine in the +heart of it, an air born of scrub and snow-clad rock, and not of his own +free spaces of heather. But it was hill-born, and this contented him; +it was night-born, and it refreshed him. In a little the road turned +down to the stream side, and he was on the edge of a long dark pool.</p> + +<p>The river, which made a poor show in the broad channel at Bardur, was +now, in this straitened place, a full lipping torrent of clear, green +water. Lewis bathed his flushed face and drank, and it was as cold as +snow. It stung his face to burning, and as he walked the heartsome glow +of great physical content began to rise in his heart. He felt fit and +ready for any work. Life was quick in his sinews, his brain was a +weathercock, his strength was tireless. At last he had found a man’s +life. He had never had a chance before. Life had been too easy and +sheltered; he had been coddled like a child; he had never roughed it +except for his own pleasure. Now he was outside this backbone of the +world with a task before him, and only his wits for his servant. Eton +and Oxford, Eton and Oxford—so it had been for generations—an +education sufficient to damn a race. Stocks was right, and he had all +along been wrong; but now he was in a fair way to taste the world’s iron +and salt, and he exulted at the prospect.</p> + +<p>It was hard walking in the nullah. In and out of great crevices the +road wound itself, on the brink of stupendous waterfalls, or in the +heart of a brushwood tangle. Soon a clear vault of sky replaced the +out-jutting crags, and he came out on a little plateau where a very cold +wind was blowing. The smell of snow was in the air, a raw smell like +salt when carried on a north wind over miles of granite crags. But on +the little tableland the moon was shining clearly. It was green with +small cloud-berries and dwarf juniper, and the rooty fragrance was for +all the world like an English bolt or a Highland pasture. Lewis flung +himself prone and buried his face among the small green leaves. Then, +still on the ground, he scanned the endless yellow distance. Mountains, +serrated and cleft as in some giant’s play, rose on every hand, while +through the hollows gleamed the farther snow-peaks. This little bare +plateau must be naked to any eye on any hill-side, and at the thought he +got to his feet and advanced.</p> + +<p>At first sight the place had looked not a mile long, but before he got +to the farther slope he found that it was nearer two. The mountain air +had given him extraordinary lightness, and he ran the distance, finding +the hard, sandy soil like a track under his feet. The slope, when he +had reached it, proved to be abrupt and boulder-strewn, and the path had +an ugly trick of avoiding steepness by skirting horrible precipices. +Luckily the moon was bright, and the man was an old mountaineer; +otherwise he might have found a grave in the crevices which seamed the +hill.</p> + +<p>He had not gone far when he began to realize that he was not the only +occupant of the mountain side. A whistle which was not a bird’s seemed +to catch his ear at times, and once, as he shrank back into the lee of a +boulder, there was the sound of naked feet on the road before him. This +was news indeed, and he crept very cautiously up the rugged path. Once, +when in shelter, he looked out, and for a second, in a patch of +moonlight, he saw a man with the loose breeches and tightened girdle of +the hillmen. He was running swiftly as if to some arranged place of +meeting.</p> + +<p>The sight put all doubts out of his head. An attack on Forza was +imminent, and this was the side from which least danger would be +expected. If the enemy got there before him they would find an easy +entrance. The thought made him quicken his pace. These scattered +tribesmen must meet before they attacked, and there might still be time +for him to get in front. His ears were sharp as a deer’s to the +slightest sound. A great joy in the game possessed him. When he +crouched in the shelter of a granite boulder or sprawled among the scrub +while the light footsteps of a tribesman passed on the road he felt that +one point was scored to him in a game in which he had no advantages. He +blessed his senses trained by years of sport to a keenness beyond a +townsman’s; his eye, which could see distances clear even in the misty +moonlight; his ear, which could judge the proximity of sounds with a +nice exactness. Twice he was on the brink of discovery. A twig snapped +as he lay in cover, and he heard footsteps pause, and he knew that a +pair of very keen eyes were scanning the brushwood. He blessed his +lucky choice in clothes which had made him bring a suit so near the hue +of his hiding-place. Then he felt that the eyes were averted, the +footsteps died away, and he was safe. Again, as he turned a corner +swiftly, he almost came on the back of a man who was stepping along +leisurely before him. For a second he stopped, and then he was back +round the corner, and had swung himself up to a patch of shadow on the +crag-side. He looked down and saw his enemy clearly in the moonlight; a +long, ferret-faced fellow, with a rifle hung on his back and an ugly +crooked knife in his hand. The man looked round, sniffing the air like +a stag, and then, satisfied that there was nothing to fear, turned and +went on. Lewis, who had been sitting on a sharp jag of rock, swung an +aching body to the ground and advanced circumspectly.</p> + +<p>In an hour or two he came to the top of the slope and the beginning of +the second tableland. A grey dimness was taking the place of the dark, +and it had suddenly grown bitterly cold. Dawn in such high latitudes is +not a thing of violent changes, but of slow and subtle gradations of +light, of sudden, coy flushes of colour, of thin winds and bright +fleeting hazes. He lay for a minute in the scrub of cloud-berries, the +collar of his coat buttoned round his throat, and the morning wind, +fresh from leagues of snow, blowing chill on his face. Behind was the +slope alive with men who at any moment might emerge on the plateau. He +waited for the sight of a figure, but none came; clearly the muster was +not yet complete. A thought grew in his brain, and a sudden clearness +in the air translated it into action; for in the hazy distance across +the tableland he saw the walls of Forza fort.</p> + +<p>The place could not be two miles off, and between it and him there was +the smooth benty plateau. He might make a rush for it and cross +unobserved. Even now the early sun was beginning to strike it. The +yellow-grey walls stood out clear against the far line of mountains, and +the wisp of colour which fluttered in the wind was clearly the British +flag. The exceeding glory of the morning gave him a new vigour. Why +should not he run with any tribesman of the lot? If he could but avoid +the risk of a rifle bullet at the outset, he would have no fear of the +issue.</p> + +<p>He glanced behind him. The place seemed still, though far down there +was a tinkle as of little stones falling. He stood up, straightened +himself for one moment till he had filled his lungs with the clean air. +Then he started to run quickly towards the fort.</p> + +<p>The full orb of the sun topped the mountains and the dazzle was in his +eyes from the first. If he covered the first half-mile unpursued he +would be safe; otherwise he might expect a bullet. It was a comic +feeling—the wide green heath, the fresh air, the easy vigour in his +stride, the flush of the morning sun, and that awkward, nervous weakness +in the small of his back where a bullet might be expected to find a +lodgment.</p> + +<p>He never looked back till he had gone what seemed to him the proper +distance, and then he glanced hurriedly over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Two men had emerged from the scrub and stood on the edge of the slope. +They were gazing intently at him, and suddenly one lifted a Snider to +his shoulder and fired. The bullet burrowed in the sand to the right of +him. Again he looked back and there they were—five of them now—crying +out to him. Then with one accord they followed over the plateau.</p> + +<p>It was now a clear race for life. He must keep beyond reasonable +rifle-shot; otherwise a broken leg might bring him to a standstill. He +cursed the deceptive clearness of the hill air which made it impossible +for his unpractised eye to judge distances. The fort stood clear in +every stone, but it might be miles off though it looked scarcely a +thousand yards. Apparently it was still asleep, for no smoke was +rising, and, strain his ears as he might, he could hear no sound of a +sentry’s walk. This looked awkward indeed for him. If the people were +not awake to receive him, he would be potted against its wall as surely +as a rat in a corner. He grew acutely nervous, and as he drew nearer he +made the air hideous with shouts to wake the garrison. A clear race in +the open he did not mind; but he had no stomach for a game of +hide-and-seek around an unscalable wall with an active enemy.</p> + +<p>Apparently the gentry behind him were growing despondent. Two rifle +bullets, fired by running men, sang unsteadily in his wake. He was now +so near that he could see the rough wooden gate and the pyramidal nails +with which it was studded. He could guess the number of paces between +him and safety. He was out of breath and a little tired, for the +scramble up the nullah had not been a light one. Again he yelled +frantically to the dead walls, beseeching their inmates to get out of +bed and save his life.</p> + +<p>There was still no sound from the sleeping fortress. He was barely a +hundred yards off, and he saw now that the walls were too high to climb +and that nothing remained but the gate. He picked up a stone and flung +it against the woodwork. The din echoed through the empty place, but +there was no sound of life. Just at the threshold there was a patch of +shadow. It was his one way of escape, and as he reached the door and +kicked and hammered at the wood, he cowered down in the shade, praying +that his friends behind might be something less than sharpshooters.</p> + +<p>The pursuit saw its chance, and running forward to get within easy +range, proceeded to target practice. Lewis, kicking diligently at the +door, was trying to draw himself into the smallest space, and his mind +was far from comfortable. It needs good nerves to fill the position of +a target with equanimity, and he was too tired to take it in good part. +A disagreeable cold sweat stood on his brow, and his heart beat +violently. Then a bullet did what all his knocking had failed to do, +for it crashed into the woodwork and woke the garrison. He heard feet +hurrying across a yard, and then it seemed to him that men were +reconnoitring from the top of the wall. A second later—when the third +bullet had buried itself in dust a foot beyond his head—the heavy gate +was half opened and a man’s hand assisted him to crawl inside.</p> + +<p>He looked up to see a tall figure in pyjamas standing over him. “Now I +wonder who the deuce you are?†it was saying.</p> + +<p>“My name’s Haystoun. H-a-y-s;†then he broke off and laughed. He had +fallen into his old trick of spelling his name to the Oxford tradesmen +when he was young and hated to have it garbled.</p> + +<p>He looked up at the questioner again. “Bless me, Andy, so it’s you.â€</p> + +<p>The man gave a yell of delight. “Lewis, upon my soul. Who’d have +thought it? It is a Providence. By Gad, I believe I’m just in time to +save your life.â€</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br /><br /> +<small>THE HILL-FORT</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">L<small>EWIS</small> got to his feet and blinked at the morning sun across the yard.</p> + +<p>“That was a near shave. Phew, I hate being a target for sharpshooting! +These devils are your friends the Bada-Mawidi.â€</p> + +<p>“The deuce they are,†said Andover lugubriously. “I always knew it. +I’ve told Holm a hundred times, and now here is the beggar away sick and +I am left to pay the piper.â€</p> + +<p>“I know. I met him in Bardur, and that’s why I’m here. He told me to +tell you to mind the north gate.â€</p> + +<p>“More easily said than done. We’re too few by half here if things get +nasty. How was the chap looking?â€</p> + +<p>“Pretty miserable. Thwaite and I put him to bed. Then they sent me off +here, for I’ve got news for you. You know a man called Marker?â€</p> + +<p>Andover nodded.</p> + +<p>“I was dining with him the day before yesterday, and yesterday morning I +got a note from him. He says that he has heard from some private source +that the Bada-Mawidi were arming and proposed an attack on Forza to-day. +He thinks they may have got their arms from the other side, you know. +At any rate he asked me to try to let you hear, and when I saw Holm last +night and heard that such a thing was possible, I came off at once. I +suppose Marker is the sort of man who should know.â€</p> + +<p>“What did Thwaite say?â€</p> + +<p>“He was keen that I should come at once. Do you think that it’s a false +alarm?â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, it will be genuine enough on Marker’s part, but he may have been +misinformed. What beats me is the attack by day. I know the Badas as I +know my own name, and they’re too few at the best to have any chance of +rushing the place. Besides, they are poor fighters in the open. On the +other hand they are devils incarnate in a night attack, as we used to +find to our cost. You are sure he said to-day?â€</p> + +<p>“Sure. Some time this morning.â€</p> + +<p>“Wonder what their game is. However, he ought to be right if anybody +is, and we are much obliged to you for your trouble. You had a pretty +hard time in the open, but how on earth did you get up the hill?â€</p> + +<p>“Deerstalking style. It was good sport. But for heaven’s sake, Andy, +give me breakfast, and tell me what you want me to do. I am under your +orders now.â€</p> + +<p>“You’d better feed and then sleep for a bit. If you don’t mind I’ll +leave you, for I’ve got to be very busy. And poor old Holm looked +pretty sick, did he? Well, I am glad he has been saved this affair +anyhow.â€</p> + +<p>A Sikh orderly brought Lewis breakfast. Beyond the tent door there was +stir in the garrison. Men were deployed in the yard, Gurkhas mainly, +with a few Kashmir sepoys, and the loud harsh voice of Andover was +raised to give orders. It was a hot still morning, with something +thunderous in the air. Hot sulphurous clouds were massing on the +western horizon, and the cool early breeze had gone. The whole place +smelt of powder.</p> + +<p>Half-way through the meal Andover returned, his lean face red with +exertion. “I’ve got things more or less in order. They may easily +starve us out, for we are wretchedly provisioned, but I don’t think +they’ll get us with a rush. I wonder when the show is to commence.†He +drank some coffee, and then filled a pipe.</p> + +<p>“I left a man at Nazri. If the thing turns out to be a small affair I +am to meet him there to-night; but if I don’t come he is to know that it +is serious and go and warn the Khautmi people. You haven’t a connection +by any chance?â€</p> + +<p>“No. Wish we had. The heliograph is no good, and the telegraph is +still under the consideration of some engineer man. But how do you +propose to get to Nazri? It’s only twelve miles, but they are mostly up +on end.â€</p> + +<p>“I did it when I was here before. It’s easy enough if you have done any +rock-climbing, and I can leave with the light. Besides, there’s a +moon.â€</p> + +<p>Andover laughed. “You’ve turned over a new leaf, Lewis. Your energy +puts us all to shame. I wish I had your physical gifts, my son. The +worst of being long and lanky in a place like this is that you’re always +as stiff as a poker. I shall die of sciatica before I am forty. But +upon my word it is queer meeting you here in the loneliest spot in +creation. When I saw you in town before I came out, you were going into +Parliament or some game of that kind. Then I heard that you had been +out here, and gone back; and now for no earthly reason I waken up one +fine morning to find you being potted at before my gate. You’re as +sudden as Marker, and a long chalk more mysterious.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis looked grave. “I wish Marker were only as simple as me, or I as +sudden as him. It’s a gift not learned in a day. Anyhow I’m here, and +we’ve got a day’s sport before us. Hullo, the ball seems about to open.†+Little puffs of smoke and dust were rising from beyond the wall, and on +the heavy air came the faint ping-ping of rifles.</p> + +<p>Andover stretched himself elaborately. “Lord alive, but this is absurd. +What do these beggars expect to do? They can’t shell a fort with stolen +expresses.â€</p> + +<p>The two men went up to the edge of the wall and looked over the plateau. +A hundred yards off stood a group of tribesmen formed in some semblance +of military order, each with a smoking rifle in his hand. It was like a +parody of a formation, and Andover after rubbing his eyes burst into a +roar of laughter.</p> + +<p>“The beggars must be mad. What in heaven’s name do they expect to do, +standing there like mummies and potting at a stone wall? There’s two +more companies of them over there. It isn’t war, it’s comic opera.†And +he sat down, still laughing, on the edge of a gun-case to put on the +boots which his orderly had brought.</p> + +<p>It was comic opera, but the tinge of melodrama was not absent. When a +sufficient number of rounds had been fired, the tribesmen, as if acting +on half-understood instructions from some prehistoric manual, slung +their rifles on their shoulders and came on. The fire from the fort did +not stop them, though it broke their line. In a minute they were +clutching at every hand-grip and foothold on the wall, and Andover with +a beaming face directed the disposition of his men.</p> + +<p>Forza is built of great, rough stones, with ends projecting in places +cyclopean-wise, which to an active man might give a foothold. The +little garrison was at its posts, and picked the men off with carbines +and revolvers, and in emergencies gave a brown chest the straight +bayonet-thrust home. The tribesmen fought like fiends, scrambling up +silently with long knives between their teeth, till a shot found them +and they rolled back to die on the sand at the foot. Now and again +a man would reach the parapet and spring down into the courtyard. Then +it was the turn of Andover and Lewis to account for him, and they did +not miss. One man with matted hair and beard was at Lewis’s back before +he saw him. A crooked knife had nearly found that young man’s neck, but +a lucky twisting aside saved him. He dodged his adversary up and down +the yard till he got his pistol from his inner pocket. Then it was his +turn to face about. The man never stopped and a ball took him between +the eyes. He dropped dead as a stone, and his knife flying from his +hand skidded along the sand till it stopped with a clatter on the +stones. The sound in the hot sulphurous air grated horribly, and Lewis +clapped his hands to his ears to find that he too had not come off +scathless. The knife had cut the lobe, and, bleeding like a pig, he +went in search of water.</p> + +<p>The assailants seemed prepared to find paradise speedily, for they were +not sparing with their lives. The attacking party was small, and +apparently there was no reserve, for in all the wide landscape there was +no sign of man. Then for no earthly reason the assault was at an end. +One by one the men dropped back and disappeared from the plateau. There +was no overt signal, no sound; but in a little the annoyed garrison were +looking at vacancy and one another.</p> + +<p>“This is the devil’s own business,†said Andover, rubbing his eyes. The +men, too astonished to pick off stragglers, allowed the enemy to melt +into space; then they set themselves down with rifles cuddled up to +their chins, and stared at Andover.</p> + +<p>“It beats me,†said that disturbed man. “How many killed?â€</p> + +<p>“Seven,†said a sergeant. “About five more wounded. None of us +touched, barring a bullet in my boot, and two Johnnies slashed on the +cheek. Seems to me as if the gen’lman, Mr. ‘Aystoun, was ‘it, though.â€</p> + +<p>At the word Andover ran for his quarters, where he found his servant +dressing Lewis’s wounded ear. That young man with a face of great +despair was inclining his head over a basin.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Andy? Don’t tell me the show has stopped. I +thought they were game to go on for hours, and I was just coming to join +you.â€</p> + +<p>“They’ve gone, every mother’s son of them. I told you it was comic +opera all along. Seven of them have found the part too much for them, +but the rest have cleared out like smoke. I give it up.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis stared at the speaker, his brain busy with a problem. For a +moment before the fight, and for a little during its progress he had +been serenely happy. He had done something hard and perilous; he had +risked bullets; he had brought authentic news of a real danger. He was +happily at peace with himself; the bland quiet of conscience which he +had not felt for months had given him the vision of a new life. But the +danger had faded away in smoke; and here was Andover with a mystified +face asking its meaning.</p> + +<p>“I swear that those fellows never had the least intention of beating us. +There were far too few of them for one thing. They looked like +criminals fighting under sentence, you know, like the Persian fellows. +It was more like some religious ceremony than a fight. The whole thing +is beyond me, but I think no harm’s done. Hang it, I wish Holm were +here. He’s a depressing beggar, but he takes responsibility off my +shoulders.â€</p> + +<p>The dead men were buried as quickly and decently as the place allowed +of. Things were generally cleaned up, and by noon the little fort was +as spick as if the sound of a rifle had never been heard within its +walls. Lewis and Andover had the midday meal in a sort of gun-room +which looked over the edge of the plateau to a valley in the hills. It +had been arranged and furnished by a former commandant who found in the +view a repetition of the one in a much-loved Highland shooting-box. +Accordingly it was comfortable and homelike beyond the average of +frontier dwellings. Outside a dripping mist had clouded the hills and +chilled the hot air.</p> + +<p>The two men smoked silently, knocking out their ashes and refilling with +the regularity of clockwork. Lewis was thinking hard, thinking of the +bitterness of dashed hopes, of self-confidence clutched at and lost. He +saw as if in an inspiration the trend of Marker’s plans. He had been +given a paltry fictitious errand, like a bone to a dog, to quiet him. +Some devilry was afoot and he must be got out of the road. For a second +the thought pleased him, the thought that at least one man held him +worthy of attention, and went out of his way to circumvent him. But the +gleam of satisfaction was gone in a moment. He could not even be sure +that there was guile at the back of it. It might be all foolish +honesty, and to a man cursed with a sense of weakness the thought of +such a pedestrian failure was trebly intolerable.</p> + +<p>But honesty was inconceivable. He and he alone in all the frontier +country knew Marker and his ways. To Andover, sucking his pipe dismally +beside him, the thing appeared clear as the daylight. Marker, the best +man alive, had word of some Bada-Mawidi doings and had given a friendly +hint. It was not his blame if the thing had fizzled out like damp +powder. But to Lewis, Marker was a man of uncanny powers and +intelligence beyond others, the iron will of the true adventurer. There +must be devilry behind it all, and to the eye of suspicion there was +doubt in every detail. And meantime he had fallen an easy victim. +Marooned in this frontier fort, the world might be turned topsy-turvy at +Bardur, and he not a word the wiser. Things were slipping from his +grasp again. He had an intense desire to shut his eyes and let all +drift. He had done enough. He had come up here at the risk of his +neck; fate had fought against him, and he must succumb. The fatal +wisdom of proverbs was all on his side.</p> + +<p>But once again conscience assailed him. Why had he believed Marker, +knowing what he knew? He had been led by the nose like a crude +school-boy. It was nothing to him that he had to believe or remain idle +in Bardur. Another proof of his folly! This importunate sense of +weakness was the weakest of all qualities. It made him a nervous and +awkward follower of strength, only to plunge deeper into the mud of +incapacity.</p> + +<p>Andover looked at him curiously. His annoyance was of a different +stamp—a little disappointment, intense boredom, and the ever-present +frontier anxiety. But such were homely complaints to be forgotten over +a pipe and in sleep. It struck him that his companion’s eyes betrayed +something more, and he kicked him on the shins into attention.</p> + +<p>“Been seedy lately? Have some quinine. Or if you can’t sleep I can +tell you a dodge. But you know you are looking a bit cheap, old man.â€</p> + +<p>“I’m pretty fit,†said Lewis, and he raised his brown face to a glass. +“Why I’m tanned like a nigger and my eye’s perfectly clear.â€</p> + +<p>“Then you’re in love,†said the mysterious Andover. “Trust me for +knowing. When a man keeps as quiet as you for so long, he’s either in +love or seedy. Up here people don’t fall in love, so I thought it must +be the other thing.â€</p> + +<p>“Rot,†said Lewis. “I’m going out of doors. I must be off pretty soon, +if I’m to get to Nazri by sundown. I wish you’d come out and show me +the sort of lie of the land. There are three landmarks, but I can’t +remember their order.â€</p> + +<p>An hour later the two men returned, and Lewis sat down to an early +dinner. He ate quickly, and made up sandwiches which he stuffed into +his pocket. Then he rose and gripped his host’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, Andy. This has been a pleasant meeting. Wish it could have +been longer.â€</p> + +<p>“Good-bye, old chap. Glad to have seen you. My love to George, if you +get to Nazri. Give you three to one in half-crowns you won’t get there +to-night.â€</p> + +<p>“Done,†said Lewis. “You shall pay when I see you next.†And in the +most approved style of the hero of melodrama he lit a short pipe and +went off into Immensity.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br /><br /> +<small>THE WAY TO NAZRI</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">O<small>UR</small> traveller did not reach Nazri that night for many reasons, of which +the chief shall be told. The way to Nazri is long and the way to Nazri +is exceedingly rough. Leaving the table-land you plunge down a +trackless gully into the dry bed of a stream. Thence it is an hour’s +uneasy walking among stagnant pools and granite boulders to the foot of +another nullah which runs up to the heart of the hills. From this you +pick your way along the precipitous side of a mountain, and if your head +is good and your feet sure, may come eventually to a place like the roof +of the house, beyond which lies a thicket of thorn-bushes and the Nazri +gully. At first sight the thing seems impossible, but by a bold man it +can be crossed either in the untanned Kashmir shoes or with the naked +feet.</p> + +<p>Lewis had not gone a mile and had barely reached the dry watercourse, +when the weather broke utterly in a storm of mist and fine rain. At +other times this chill weather would have been a comfort, but here in +these lonely altitudes, with a difficult path before him, its result was +to confound confusion. So long as he stuck to the stream he had some +guidance; it was hard, even when the air was like a damp blanket, to +mistake the chaos of boulder and shingle which meant the channel. But +the mist was close to him and wrapped him in like a quilt, and he looked +in vain for the foot of the nullah he must climb. He tried keeping by +the edge and feeling his way, but it only landed him in a ditch of +stagnant slime. The thing was too vexatious, and his temper went; and +with his temper his last chance of finding his road. When he had +stumbled for what seemed hours he sat down on a boulder and whistled +dismally. The stream belonged to another watershed. If he followed it, +assuming that he did not break his neck over a dry cataract, he would be +through the mountains and near Taghati quicker than he intended. +Meantime the miserable George would wait at Nazri, would rouse the +Khautmi garrison on a false alarm, and would find himself irretrievably +separated from his friend. The thought was so full of irritation, that +he resolved not to stir one step further. He would spend the night if +need be in this place and wait till the mist lifted.</p> + +<p>He found a hollow among the boulders, and improvidently ate half his +store of sandwiches. Then, finding his throat dry, he got up to hunt +for water. A trickle afar off in the rocks led him on, and sure enough +he found water; but when he tried to retrace his steps to his former +resting place he found that he had forgotten the way. This new place +was conspicuously less sheltered, but he sat down on the wet gravel, lit +a pipe with difficulty, and with his knees close to his chin strove to +possess his soul in patience.</p> + +<p>He was tired, for he had slept little for two days, and the closer air +of the ravine made him drowsy. He had lost any sense of discomfort from +the wet, and was in the numb condition of the utterly drenched. He +could not spend the night like this, so he roused himself and stood +staring, pipe in teeth, into the drizzle. The mist seemed clearer. He +was a little stupid, so he did not hear the sound of feet on stones till +they were almost on him. Then through the haze he saw a procession of +figures moving athwart the channel. They were not his countrymen, for +they walked with the stoop forward which no Englishman can ever quite +master in his hill-climbing. Lewis turned to flee, but in his numbness +of mind and body missed footing, and fell sprawling over a bank of +shingle. He scrambled to his feet only to find hands at his throat, and +himself a miserable prisoner.</p> + +<p>The scene had shifted with a vengeance, and his first and sole impulse +was to laugh. It is possible that if the scarf of a brawny tribesman +had not been so tight across his chest he would have astonished his +captors with hysterical laughter. But the jolt as he was dragged up +hill, tied close to a horse’s side, was unfavourable to merriment, and +raw despondency filled his soul. This was the end of his fine doings. +The prisoner of unknown bandits, hurried he knew not whence, a pretty +pass for an adventurer. This was the seal on his ineffectiveness. Shot +against a rock, held up to some sordid ransom, he was as impotent for +good or ill as if he had stayed at home. For a second he longed to pull +horse and captor with one wrench over the brink to the kindly gulf where +all was quiet.</p> + +<p>The bitterest ill-humour possessed this meekest of men. Normally he +would have been afraid, for he was an imaginative being who feared +horrors and had little relish for them. But there is a certain perfect +bad temper which casteth out fear, and this held him in its grip. He +cursed the mountain solitude and he cursed the Bada-Mawidi with awful +directness. Then he chose silence as the easier part, and trudged like +a stolid criminal till, half in a daze of weariness and sleep, he found +that the cavalcade had halted.</p> + +<p>The place was the edge of a little tableland where in a hollow among +rocks lay a collection of mud-walled huts. A fire, in spite of the damp +weather, blazed cheerfully in the midst of the clearing. There was +commotion in the huts, every door was opened, and evil-smelling people +poured forth with cries and questions. The leader of the newly arrived +party bowed himself before a short, square man whom we have met before, +and spoke something in his ear. Fazir Khan looked up sharply at Lewis, +then laughed, and spoke something to his men in his own tongue.</p> + +<p>Lewis comprehended barely a few words of Chil, the Bada tongue, and he +knew little of the frontier speeches. But to his amazement the chief +addressed him in tolerable, if halting, English. It was not for nothing +that Fazir Khan had harried the Border and sojourned incognito in every +town in North India.</p> + +<p>“Allah has given thee to us, my son,†he said sweetly. “It is vain to +fight against God. I have heard of thee as the Englishman who would +know more than is good for man to know. You were at Forza to-day.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis’s temper was at its worst. “I was at Forza to-day, and I watched +your people running. Had they waited a little longer we should have +slain them all, and then have come for you.â€</p> + +<p>The chief smiled unpleasantly. “My people did not fight at Forza +to-day. That was but the sport to draw on fools. Soon we shall fight +in earnest, but in a different place, and thou shalt not see.â€</p> + +<p>“I am your prisoner,†said Lewis grimly, “and it is in your power to do +with me as you please. But remember that for every hair of my head my +people will take the lives of four of your cattle-lifters.â€</p> + +<p>“That is an old story,†said Fazir Khan wearily, “and I have heard it +many times before. You speak boldly like a man, and because you are not +afraid I will tell you the truth. In a very little there will be not +one of your people in the land, only the Bada-Mawidi, and others whom I +do not name.â€</p> + +<p>“That is a still older story. I have heard it since I was in my +mother’s arms. Do you think to frighten me by such a tale?â€</p> + +<p>“Let us not talk of fear,†said the chief with some politeness. “There +are two races in your people, one which talks and allies itself with +Bengalis and swine, and one which lives in hard places and follows war. +The second I love, and had it been possible, I would have allied myself +with it and driven the others into the sea.†This petty chieftain spoke +with the pride of one who ruled the destinies of the earth.</p> + +<p>Lewis was unimpressed. “I am tired of your riddles,†he said. “If you +would kill me have done with it. If you would keep me prisoner, give me +food and a place to sleep. But if you would be merciful, let me go and +show me the way to Bardur. Life is too short for waiting.â€</p> + +<p>Fazir Khan laughed loudly, and spoke something to his people.</p> + +<p>“You shall join in our company for the night,†he said. “I have eaten +of the salt of your people and I do not murder without cause. Also I +love a bold man.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis was led into the largest of the huts and given food and warm Hunza +wine. The place was hot to suffocation; large beads of moisture stood +on the mud walls, and the smell of uncleanly clothing and sweating limbs +was difficult to stand. But the man’s complexion was hard, and he made +an excellent supper. Thereafter he became utterly drowsy. He had it in +his mind to question this Fazir Khan about his dark sayings, but his +eyes closed as if drawn by a magnet and his head nodded. It may have +been something in the wine; it may have been merely the vigil of the +last night, and the toil of the past hours. At any rate his mind was +soon a blank, and when a servant pointed out a heap of skins in a +corner, he flung himself on them and was at once asleep. He was utterly +at their mercy, but his course, had he known it, was the wisest. Even a +Bada’s treachery has its limits, and he will not knife a confident +guest. The men talked and wrangled, ate and drank, and finally snored +around him, but he slept through it all like a sleeper of Ephesus.</p> + +<p>When he woke the hut was cleared. The village slept late but he had +slept later, for the sun was piercing the unglazed windows and making +pattern-work on the earth floor. He had slept soundly a sleep haunted +with nightmares, and he was still dazed as he peered out into the square +where men were passing. He saw a sentry at the door of his hut, which +reminded him of his condition. All the long night he had been far away, +fishing, it seemed to him, in a curious place which was Glenavelin, and +yet was ever changing to a stranger glen. It was moonlight, still, +bright and warm on all the green hill shoulders. He remembered that he +caught nothing, but had been deliriously happy. People seemed passing +on the bank, Arthur and Wratislaw and Julia Heston, and all his +boyhood’s companions. He talked to them pleasantly, and all the while +he was moving up the glen which lay so soft in the moonlight. He +remembered looking everywhere for Alice Wishart, but her face was +wanting. Then suddenly the place seemed to change. The sleeping glen +changed to a black sword-cut among rocks, his friends disappeared, and +only George was left. He remembered that George cried out something and +pointed to the gorge, and he knew—though how he knew it he could not +tell—that the lost Alice was somewhere there before him in the darkness +and he must go towards her. Then he had wakened shivering, for in that +darkness there was terror as well as joy.</p> + +<p>He went to the door, only to find himself turned back by the sheep-skin +sentry, who half unsheathed for his benefit an ugly knife. He found +that his revolver, his sole weapon, had been taken while he slept. +Escape was impossible till his captors should return.</p> + +<p>A day of burning sun had followed on the storm. Out of doors in the +scorching glare from the rock there seemed an extraordinary bustle. It +was like the preparations for a march, save that there seemed no method +in the activity. One man burnished a knife, a dozen were cleaning +rifles, and all wore the evil-smelling finery with which the hillman +decks his person for war. Their long oiled hair was tied in a sort of +rude knot, new and fuller turbans adorned the head, and on the feet were +stout slippers of Bokhara make. Lewis had keen eyesight, and he strove +to read the marks on the boxes of cartridges which stood in a corner. +It was not the well-known Government mark which usually brands stolen +ammunition. The three crosses with the crescent above—he had seen them +before, but his memory failed him. It might have been at Bardur in the +inn; it might have been at home in the house of some great traveller. +At any rate the sight boded no good to himself or the border peace. He +thought of George waiting alone at Nazri, and then obediently warning +the people at Khautmi. By this time Andover would know he was missing, +and men would be out on a very hopeless search. At any rate he had done +some good, for if the Badas meant marching they would find the garrisons +prepared.</p> + +<p>About noon there was a bustle in the square and Fazir Khan with a dozen +of his tail swaggered in. He came straight to the hut, and two men +entered and brought out the prisoner. Lewis stiffened his back and +prepared not reluctantly for a change in the situation. He had no +special fear of this smiling, sinister chieftain. So far he had been +spared, and now it seemed unlikely that in the midst of this bustle of +war there would be room for the torture which alone he dreaded. So he +met the chief’s look squarely, and at the moment he thanked the lot +which had given him two more inches of height.</p> + +<p>“I have sent for thee, my son,†said Fazir Khan, “that you may see how +great my people is.â€</p> + +<p>“I have seen,†said Lewis, looking round. “You have a large collection +of jackals, but you will not bring many back.â€</p> + +<p>The notion tickled Fazir Khan and he laughed with great good-humour. +“So, so,†he cried. “Behold how great is the wisdom of youth. I will +tell you a secret, my son. In a little the Bada-Mawidi, my people, will +be in Bardur and a little later in the fat corn lands of the south, and +I, Fazir Khan, will sit in King’s palaces.†He looked contemptuously +round at his mud walls, his heart swelling with pride.</p> + +<p>“What the devil do you mean?†Lewis asked with rising suspicion. This +was not the common talk of a Border cateran.</p> + +<p>“I mean what I mean,†said the other. “In a little all the world shall +see. But because I have a liking for a bold cockerel like thee, I will +speak unwisely. The days of your people are numbered. This very night +there are those coming from the north who will set their foot on your +necks.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis went sick at heart. A thousand half-forgotten suspicions called +clamorously. This was the secret of the burlesque at Forza, and the new +valour of the Badas. He saw Marker’s game with the fatal clearness of +one who is too late. He had been given a chance of a little piece of +service to avert his suspicions. Marker had fathomed him well as one +who must satisfy a restless conscience but had no stomach for anything +beyond. Doubtless he thought that now he would be enjoying the rest +after labour at Forza, flattering himself on saving a garrison, when all +the while the force poured down which was to destroy an empire. An army +from the north, backed and guided by every Border half-breed and +outlaw—what hope of help in God’s name was to be found in the sleepy +forts and the unsuspecting Bardur?</p> + +<p>And the Kashmir and the Punjab? A train laid in every town and village. +Supplies in readiness, communications waiting to be held, railways ready +for capture. Europe was on the edge of a volcano. He saw an outbreak +there which would keep Britain employed at home, while the great power +with her endless forces and bottomless purse poured her men over the +frontier. But at the thought of the frontier he checked himself. There +was no road by which an army could march; if there was any it could be +blocked by a handful. A week’s, a day’s delay would save the north, and +the north would save the empire.</p> + +<p>His voice came out of his throat with a crack in it like an old man’s.</p> + +<p>“There is no road through the mountains. I have been there before and I +know.â€</p> + +<p>Again Fazir Khan smiled. “I use no secrecy to my friends. There is a +way, though all men do not know it. From Nazri there is a valley +running towards the sunrise. At the head there is a little ridge easily +crossed, and from that there is a dry channel between high precipices. +It is not the width of a man’s stature, so even the sharp eyes of my +brother might miss it. Beyond that there is a sandy tableland, and then +another valley, and then plains.â€</p> + +<p>The plan of the place was clear in Lewis’s brain. He remembered each +detail. The long nullah on which he had looked from the hill-tops had, +then, an outlet, and did not end, as he had guessed, in a dead wall of +rock. Fool and blind! to have missed so glorious a chance!</p> + +<p>He stood staring dumbly around him, unconscious that he was the +laughingstock of all. Then he looked at the chief.</p> + +<p>“Am I your prisoner?†he asked hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“Nay,†said the other good-humouredly, “thou art free. We have +over-much work on hand to-day to be saddled with captives.â€</p> + +<p>“Then where is Nazri?†he asked.</p> + +<p>The chief laughed a loud laugh of tolerant amusement. “Hear to the bold +one,†he cried. “He will not miss the great spectacle. See, I will +show you the road,†and he pointed out certain landmarks. “For one of +my own people it is a journey of four hours; for thee it will be +something more. But hurry, and haply the game will not have begun. If +the northern men take thee I will buy thy life.â€</p> + +<p>Four hours; the words rang in his brain like a sentence. He had no +hope, but a wild craving to attempt the hopeless. George might have +returned to Nazri to wait; it was the sort of docile thing that George +would do. In any case not five miles from Nazri was the end of the +north road and a little telegraph hut used by the Khautmi forts. The +night would be full moonlight; and by night the army would come. His +watch had been stolen, but he guessed by the heavens that it was some +two hours after noon. Five hours would bring him to Nazri at six, in +another he might be at the hut before the wires were severed. It was a +crazy chance, but it was his all, and meanwhile these grinning tribesmen +were watching him like some curious animal. They had talked to him +freely to mock his feebleness. His dominant wish was to escape from +their sight.</p> + +<p>He turned to the descent. “I am going to Nazri,†he said.</p> + +<p>The chief held out his pistol. “Take your little weapon. We have no +need of such things when great matters are on hand. Allah speed you, +brother! A sure foot and a keen eye may bring you there in time for the +sport.†And, still laughing, he turned to enter the hut.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br /><br /> +<small>EVENING IN THE HILLS</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HE</small> airless heat of afternoon lay on the rocks and dry pastures. The +far snow-peaks, seen for a moment through a rift in the hills, shimmered +in the glassy stillness. No cheerful sound of running water filled the +hollows, for all was parched and bare with the violence of intemperate +suns and storms. Soon he was out of sight and hearing of the village, +travelling in a network of empty watercourses, till at length he came to +the long side of mountain which he knew of old as the first landmark of +the way. A thin ray of hope began to break up his despair. He knew now +the exact distance he had to travel, for his gift had always been an +infallible instinct for the lie of a countryside. The sun was still +high in the heavens; with any luck he should be at Nazri by six o’clock.</p> + +<p>He was still sore with wounded pride. That Marker should have divined +his weakness and left open to him a task in which he might rest with a +cheap satisfaction was bitter to his vanity. The candour of his mind +made him grant its truth, but his new-born confidence was sadly +dissipated. And he felt, too, the futility of his efforts. That one +man alone in this precipitous wilderness should hope to wake the Border +seemed a mere nightmare of presumption. But it was possible, he said to +himself. Time only was needed. If he could wake Bardur and the north, +and the forts on the passes, there would be delay enough to wake India. +If George were at Nazri there would be two for the task; if not, there +would be one at least willing and able.</p> + +<p>It was characteristic of the man that the invasion was bounded for him +by Nazri and Bardur. He had no ears for ultimate issues and the ruin of +an empire. Another’s fancy would have been busy on the future; Lewis +saw only that pass at Nazri and the telegraph-hut beyond. He must get +there and wake the Border; then the world might look after itself. As +he ran, half-stumbling, along the stony hillside he was hard at work +recounting to himself the frontier defences. The Forza and Khautmi +garrisons might hold the pass for an hour if they could be summoned. It +meant annihilation, but that was in the bargain. Thwaite was strong +enough in Bardur, but the town might give him trouble of itself, and he +was not a man of resources. After Bardur there was no need of thought. +Two hours after the telegraph clicked in the Nazri hut, the north of +India would have heard the news and be bestirring itself for work. In +five hours all would be safe, unless Bardur could be taken and the wires +cut. There might be treason in the town, but that again was not his +affair. Let him but send the message before sunset, and he would still +have time to get to Khautmi, and with good luck hold the defile for +sixty minutes. The thought excited him wildly. His face dripped with +sweat, his boots were cut with rock till the leather hung in shreds, and +a bleeding arm showed through the rents in his sleeve. But he felt no +physical discomfort, only the exhilaration of a rock climber with the +summit in sight, or a polo player with a clear dribble before him to the +goal. At last he was playing a true game of hazard, and the chance gave +him the keenest joy.</p> + +<p>All the hot afternoon he scrambled till he came to the edge of a new +valley. Nazri must lie beyond, he reasoned, and he kept to the higher +ground. But soon he was mazed among precipitous shelves which needed +all his skill. He had to bring his long stride down to a very slow and +cautious pace, and, since he was too old a climber to venture rashly, he +must needs curb his impatience. He suffered the dull recoil of his +earlier vigour. While he was creeping on this accursed cliff the +minutes were passing, and every second lessening his chances. He was in +a fever of unrest, and only a happy fortune kept him from death. But at +length the place was passed, and the mountain shelved down to a plateau. +A wide view lay open to the eye, and Lewis blinked and hesitated. He +had thought Nazri lay below him, and lo! there was nothing but a tangle +of black watercourses.</p> + +<p>The sun had begun to decline over the farther peak, and the man’s heart +failed him utterly. These unkind stony hills had been his ruin. He was +lost in the most formidable country on God’s earth, lost! when his +whole soul cried out for hurry. He could have wept with misery, and +with a drawn face he sat down and forced himself to think.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a long, narrow black cleft in the farther tableland caught his +eye. He took the direction from the sun and looked again. This must be +the Nazri Pass, which he had never before that day heard of. He saw +where it ended in a stony valley. Once there he had but to follow the +nullah and cross the little ridge to come to Nazri.</p> + +<p>Weariness was beginning to grow on him, but the next miles were the +quickest of the day. He seemed to have the foot of a chamois. Down the +rocky hillside, across the chaos of boulders, and up into the dark +nullah he ran like a maniac. His mouth was parched with thirst, and he +stopped for a moment in the valley bottom to swallow some rain-water. +At last he found himself in the Nazri valley, with the thin sword-cut +showing dark in the yellow evening. Another mile and he would be at the +camping-place, and in five more at the hut.</p> + +<p>He kept high up on the ridge, for the light had almost gone and the +valley was perilous. It must be hideously late, eight o’clock or more, +he thought, and his despair made him hurry his very weary limbs. +Suddenly in the distant hollow he saw the gleam of a fire. He stopped +abruptly and then quickened with a cry of joy. It must be the faithful +George still waiting in the place appointed. Now there would be two to +the task. But it was too late, he bitterly reflected. In a little the +moon would rise, and then at any moment the van of the invader might +emerge from the defile. He might warn Bardur, but before anything could +be done the enemy would be upon them. And then there would be a +southward march upon a doubtful and half-awakened country, and then—he +knew not.</p> + +<p>But there was one other way. It had not occurred to him before, for it +is not an expedient which comes often to men nowadays, save to such as +are fools and outcasts. We are a wise and provident age, mercantile in +our heroics, seeking a solid profit for every sacrifice. But this +man—a child of the latter day—had not the new self-confidence, and he +was at the best high-strung, unwise, and unworldly. Besides, he was +broken with toil and excited with adventure. The last dying rays of the +sun were resting on the far snow walls, and the great heart of the west +burned in one murky riot of flame. But to the north, whence came +danger, there was a sea of yellow light, islanded with faint roseate +clouds like some distant happy country. The air of dusk was thin and +chill but stirring as wine to the blood, and all the bare land was for +the moment a fairy realm, mystic, intangible and untrodden. The +frontier line ran below the camping place; here he was over the border, +beyond the culture of his kind. He was alone, for in this adventure +George would not share. He would earn nothing, in all likelihood he +would achieve nothing; but by the grace of God he might gain some +minutes’ respite. He would be killed; but that, again, was no business +of his. At least he could but try, for this was his one shred of hope +remaining.</p> + +<p>The thought, once conceived, could not be rejected. He was no coward or +sophist to argue himself out of danger. He laid no flattering unction +to his soul that he had done his best while another way remained +untried. For this type of man may be half-hearted and a coward in +little matters, but he never deceives himself. We have all our own +virtues and their defects. I am a well-equipped and confident person, +walking bluffly through the world, looking through and down upon my +neighbours, the incarnation of honesty; but I can find excuses for +myself when I desire them, I hug my personal esteem too close, and a +thousand to one I am too great a coward at heart to tell myself the +naked truth. You, on the other hand, are vacillating and ill at your +ease. You shrink from the hards of life which I steer happily through. +But you have no delusions with yourself, and the odds are that when the +time comes you may choose the “high that proved too high†and achieve +the impossibly heroic.</p> + +<p>A tired man with an odd gleam in his eye came out of the shadows to the +firelight and called George by name.</p> + +<p>“My God, Lewis, I am glad to see you! I thought you were lost. Food?†+and he displayed the resources of his larder.</p> + +<p>Lewis hunted for the water-bottle and quenched his thirst. Then he ate +ravenously of the cold wild-fowl and oatcake which George had provided. +He was silent and incurious till he had satisfied his wants; then he +looked up to meet George’s questions.</p> + +<p>“Where on earth have you been? Andover said you started out to come +here last night. I did as you told me, you know, and when you didn’t +come I roused the Khautmi people. They swore a good deal but turned +out, and after an infernal long climb we got to Forza. We roused up +Andover after a lot of trouble, and he took us in and gave us supper. +He said you had gone off hours ago, and that the Bada-Mawidi business +had been more or less of a fraud. So I slept there and came back here +in the morning in case you should turn up. Been shooting all day, but +it was lonely work and I didn’t get the right hang of the country. +These beggars there are jolly little use,†and he jerked his head in the +direction of the native servants. “What <i>have</i> you been after?â€</p> + +<p>“I? Oh, I’ve been in queer places. I fell into the hands of the Badas +a couple of hours after I left Forza. There was a storm up there and I +got lost in the mist. They took me up to a village and kept me there +all night. And then I heard news—my God, such news! They let me go +because they thought I could do no harm and I ran most of the way here. +Marker has scored this time, old man. You know how he has been going +about all North India for the last year or two getting things much his +own way. Well, to-night when the moon rises the great blow is to be +struck. It seems there is a pass to the north of this; I knew the place +but I didn’t know of the road. There is an army coming down that place +in an hour or so. It is the devil’s own business, but it has got to be +faced. We must warn Bardur, and trust to God that Bardur may warn the +south. You know the telegraph hut at the end of the road, when you +begin to climb up the ravine to the place? You must get down there at +once, for every moment is precious.â€</p> + +<p>George had listened with staring eyes to the tale. “I can’t believe +it,†he managed to ejaculate. “God, man! it’s invasion, an unheard-of +thing!â€</p> + +<p>“It’s the most desperate truth, unheard-of or no. The whole thing lies +in our hands. They cannot come till after midnight, and by that time +Thwaite may be ready in Bardur, and the Khautmi men may be holding the +road. That would delay them for a little, and by the time they took +Bardur they might find the south in arms. It wouldn’t matter a straw if +it were an ordinary filibustering business. But I tell you it’s a great +army, and everything is prepared for it. Marker has been busy for +months. There will be outbreaks in every town in the north. The +railways and arsenals will be captured before ever the enemy appears. +There will be a native rising. That was to be bargained for. But God +only knows how the native troops have been tampered with. That man was +as clever as they make, and he has had a free hand. Oh the blind +fools!â€</p> + +<p>George had turned, and was buttoning the top button of his shooting-coat +against the chilly night wind. “What shall I say to Thwaite?†he +asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, anything. Tell him it’s life or death. Tell him the facts, and +don’t spare. You’ll have to impress on the telegraph clerk its +importance first and that will take time. Tell him to send to Gilgit +and Srinagar, and then to the Indus Valley. He must send into Chitral +too and warn Armstrong. Above all things the Kohistan railway must be +watched, because it must be their main card. Lord! I wish I understood +the game better. Heaven knows it isn’t my profession. But Thwaite will +understand if you scare him enough. Tell him that Bardur must be held +ready for siege at any moment. You understand how to work the thing?â€</p> + +<p>George nodded. “There’ll be nobody there, so I suppose I’ll have to +break the door open. I think I remember the trick of the business. +<i>Then</i>, what do I do?â€</p> + +<p>“Get up to Khautmi as fast as you can shin it. Better take the servants +and send them before you while you work the telegraph. I suppose +they’re trustworthy. Get them to warn Mitchinson and St. John. They +must light the fires on the hills and collect all the men they can spare +to hold the road. Of course it’s a desperate venture. We’ll probably +all be knocked on the head, but we must risk it. If we can stop the +beggars for one half-hour we’ll give Thwaite a better chance to set his +house in order. How I’d sell my soul to see a strong man in Bardur! +That will be the key of the position. If the place is uncaptured +to-morrow morning, and your wires have gone right, the chief danger on +this side will be past. There will be little risings of wasps’ nests up +and down the shop, but we can account for them if this army from the +north is stopped.â€</p> + +<p>“I wonder how many of us will see to-morrow morning,†said George +dismally. He was not afraid of death, but he loved the pleasant world.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,†said Lewis abruptly, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>The action made George realize for the first time the meaning of his +errand.</p> + +<p>“But, I say, Lewie, hold on. What the deuce are you going to do?â€</p> + +<p>“I am dog-tired,†said the impostor. “I must wait here and rest. I +should only delay you.†And always, as if to belie his fatigue, his eyes +were turning keenly to the north. At any moment while he stood there +bandying words there might come the sound of marching, and the van of +the invaders issue from the defile.</p> + +<p>“But, hang it, you know. I can’t allow this. The Khautmi men mayn’t +reach you in time, and I’m dashed if I am going to leave you here to be +chawed up by Marker. You’re coming with me.â€</p> + +<p>“Don’t be an ass,†said Lewis kindly. This parting, one in ignorance, +the other in too certain knowledge, was very bitter. “They can’t be here +before midnight. They were to start at moonrise, and the moon is only +just up. You’ll be back in heaps of time, and, besides, we’ll soon all +be in the same box.â€</p> + +<p>It was a false card to play, for George grew obstinate at once. “Then +I’m going to be in the same box as you from the beginning. Do you +really think I am going to desert you? Hang it, you’re more important +than Bardur.â€</p> + +<p>“Oh, for God’s sake, listen to reason,†Lewis cried in despair. “You +must go at once. I can’t or I would. It’s our only chance. It’s a +jolly good chance of death anyway, but it’s a naked certainty unless you +do this. Think of the women and children and the people at home. You +may as well talk about letting the whole thing slip and getting back to +Bardur with safe skins. We must work the telegraph and then try to hold +the road with the Khautmi men, or be cowards for evermore. We’re +gentlemen, and we are responsible.â€</p> + +<p>“I didn’t mean it that way,†said George dismally. “But I want you to +come with me. I can’t bear the thought of your being butchered here +alone, supposing the beggars come before we get back. You’re sure there +is time?â€</p> + +<p>“You’ve three hours before you, but every moment is important. This is +the frontier line, and this fire will do for one of the signals. You’ll +find me here. I haven’t slept for days.†And he yawned with feigned +drowsiness.</p> + +<p>“Then—good-bye,†said George solemnly, holding out his hand a second +time. “Remember, I’m devilish anxious about you. It’s a pretty hot job +for us all; but, gad! if we pull through you get the credit.â€</p> + +<p>Then with a single backward glance he led the way down the narrow track, +two mystified servants at his heels.</p> + +<p>Lewis watched him disappear, and then turned sadly to his proper +business. This was the end of a very old song, and his heart cried out +at the thought. He heaped more wood on the blaze from the little pile +collected, and soon a roaring, boisterous fire burned in the glen, while +giant shadows danced on the sombre hills. Then he rummaged in the tent +till he found the rifles, carefully cleaned and laid aside. He selected +two express 400 bores, a Metford express and a smooth-bore Winchester +repeater. Then he filled his pockets with cartridges, and from a small +box took a handful for his revolver. All this he did in a sort of +sobbing haste, turning nervous eyes always to the mouth of the cañon. +He filled his flask from a case in the tent, and, being still ravenously +hungry, crammed the remnants of supper into a capacious game-pocket. +Then, all preparations being made, he looked for a moment down the road +where his best friend had just gone out of his ken for ever. The +thought was so dreary that he did not dare to delay longer, but with a +bundle of ironmongery below his arms began to scramble up the glen to +where the north star burned between two peaks of hill.</p> + +<p>He did the journey in an hour, for he was in a pitiable state of +anxiety. Every moment he looked to hear the tramp of an army before +him, and know his errand of no avail. Over the little barrier ridge he +scrambled, and then up the straight gully to the little black rift which +was the gate of an empire. His unquiet mind peopled the wilderness with +voices, but when, breathless and sore, he came into the jaws of the +pass, all was still, silent as the grave, save for an eagle which +croaked from some eyrie in the cliffs.</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI<br /><br /> +<small>EVENTS SOUTH OF THE BORDER</small></h2> + +<p class="nind">T<small>HWAITE</small> was finishing a solitary dinner and attempting to find interest +in a novel when his butler came with news that the telephone bell was +ringing in the gun-room. Thwaite, being tired and cross, told him to +answer it himself, expecting some frivolous message about supplies. The +man returned in a little with word that he could not understand it. +Then Thwaite arose, blessing him, and went to see. The telegraph office +proper was on the other side of the river, on the edge of the native +town, but a telephone had been established to the garrison.</p> + +<p>Thwaite’s first impulse was to suspect a gigantic hoax. A scared native +clerk was trying to tell him a most appalling tale. George had not +spared energy in his message, and the Oriental imagination as a medium +had considerably increased it. The telegrams came in a confused order, +hard to piece together, but two facts seemed to stand out from the +confusion. One was that there was an unknown pass in the hills beyond +Nazri through which danger was expected at any moment that night; the +other was that treason was suspected throughout the whole north. Then +came the name of Marker, which gave Thwaite acute uneasiness. Finally +came George’s two words of advice—keep strict watch on the native town +and hold Bardur in readiness for a siege; and wire the same directions +to Yasin, Gilgit, Chitral, Chilas, and throughout Kashmir and the +Punjab. Above all, wire to the chief places on the new Indus Valley +railway, for in case of success in Bardur, the railway would be the +first object of the invader.</p> + +<p>Thwaite put down the ear-trumpet, his face very white and perspiring. +He looked at his watch; it was just on nine o’clock. The moon had +arisen and the telegram said “moonrise.†He could not doubt the +genuineness of the message when he had heard at the end the names +Winterham and Haystoun. Already Marker might be through the pass, and +little the Khautmi people could do against him. He must be checked at +Bardur, though it cost every life in the garrison. Four hours’ delay +would arm the north to adequate resistance.</p> + +<p>He telephoned to the telegraph office to shut and lock the doors and +admit no one till word came from him. Then he summoned his Sikh +orderly, his English servant, and the native officers of the garrison. +He had one detachment of Imperial Service troops officered by Punjabis, +and a certain force of Kashmir Sepoys who made ineffective policemen, +and as soldiers were worse than useless. And with them he had to defend +the valley, and hold the native town, which might give trouble on his +flank. This was the most vexatious part of the business. If Marker had +organized the thing, then nothing could be unexpected, and treachery was +sure to be thick around them.</p> + +<p>The men came, saluted, and waited in silence. Thwaite sat down at a +table and pulled a sheaf of telegraph forms to pieces. First he wired +to Ladcock at Gilgit, beseeching reinforcements. From Bardur to the +south there is only one choice of ways—by Yasin and Yagistan to the +Indus Valley, or by Gilgit and South Kashmir. Once beyond Gilgit there +was small hope of checking an advance, but in case the shorter way to +the Indus by the Astor Valley was tried there might be hope of a delay. +So he besought Ladcock to post men on the Mazeno Pass if the time was +given him. Then he sent a like message to Yasin, though on the high +passes and the unsettled country there was small chance of the wires +remaining uncut. A force in Yasin might take on the flank any invasion +from Afghanistan and in any case command the Chitral district. Then +came a series of frantic wires at random—to Rawal Pindi, to the Punjabi +centres, to South Kashmir. He had small confidence in these messages. +If the local risings were serious, as he believed them to be, they would +be too late, and in any case they were beyond the country where +strategical points were of advantage against an invader. There remained +the stations on the Indus Valley railway, which must be +the earliest point of attack. The terminus at Boonji was held by a +certain Jackson, a wise man who inspired terror in a mixed force of +irregulars, Afridis, Pathans, Punjabis, Swats, and a dozen other +varieties of tribesmen. To him he sent the most lengthy and urgent +messages, for he held the key of a great telegraphic system with which +he might awake Abbotabad and the Punjab. Then, perspiring with heat and +anxiety, he gave the bundle into the hands of his English servant, and +told off an officer and twenty men to hold the telegraph office. A blue +light was to be lit in the window if the native town should prove +troublesome and reinforcements be needed.</p> + +<p>Soon the force of the garrison was assembled in the yard, all but a few +who had been sent on messages to the more isolated houses of the English +residents. Thwaite addressed them briefly: “Men, there’s the devil’s +own sweet row up the north, and it’s moving down to us. This very night +we may have to fight. And, remember, it’s not the old game with the +hillmen, but an army of white men, servants of the Tsar, come to fight +the servants of the Empress. Therefore, it is your duty to kill them +all like locusts, else they will swallow up you and your cattle and your +wives and your children, and, speaking generally, the whole bally show. +We may be killed, but if we keep them back even for a little God will +bless us. So be steady at your posts.â€</p> + +<p>The garrison was soon dispersed, the guns in readiness, pointing up the +valley. It was ten o’clock by Thwaite’s watch ere the last click of the +loaders told that Bardur was awaiting an enemy. The town behind was in +an uproar, men clamouring at the gates, and seeking passports to flee to +the south. Chinese and Turcoman traders from Leh and Lhassa, Yarkand +and Bokhara, with scared faces, were getting their goods together and +invoking their mysterious gods. Logan, who had returned from Gilgit +that very day, rode breathless into the yard, clamouring for Thwaite. +He received the tale in half a dozen sentences, whistled, and turned to +go, for he had his own work to do. One question he asked:</p> + +<p>“Who sent the telegrams?â€</p> + +<p>“Haystoun and Winterham.â€</p> + +<p>“Then they’re alone at Nazri?â€</p> + +<p>“Except for the Khautmi men.â€</p> + +<p>“Will they try to hold it?â€</p> + +<p>“I should think so. They’re all sportsmen. Gad, there won’t be a soul +left alive.â€</p> + +<p>Logan galloped off with a long face. It would be a great ending, but +what a waste of heroic stuff! And as he remembered Lewis’s frank +good-fellowship he shut his lips, as if in pain.</p> + +<p>The telegrams were sent, and reply messages began to pour in, which kept +one man at the end of the telephone. About half-past ten a blue light +burned in the window across the river. There seemed something to do in +the native town of narrow streets and evil-smelling lanes, for the sound +of shouting and desultory firing rose above the stir of the fort. The +telegraph office abutted on the far end of the bridge, and Thwaite had +taken the precaution of bidding the native officer he had sent across +keep his men posted around the end of the passage. Now he himself took +thirty men, for the native town was the most dangerous point he had to +fear. The wires must not be cut till the last moment, and, as they +passed over the bridge and then through the English quarter, there was +small danger if the office was held. He found, as he expected, that the +place was being maintained against considerable odds. A huge mixed +crowd, drawn in the main from the navvies who had been employed on the +new road, armed with knives and a few rifles, and encouraged by certain +wild, dancing figures which had the look of priests, was surging around +the gate. The fighting stuff was Afridi or Chitrali, but there was +abundance of yelling from this rabble of fakirs and beggars who +accompanied them. Order there was none, and it was clear to Thwaite +that this rising had been arranged for but not organized. His men had +small difficulty in forcing a way to the office, where they served to +complete the cordon of defence and the garrison of the bridge-end. Two +men had been killed and some half-dozen of the rioters. He pushed into +the building, and found a terrified Kashmir clerk sternly watched by his +servant and the Sikh orderly. The man, with tears streaming down his +face, was attempting to read the messages which the wires brought.</p> + +<p>Thwaite picked up and read the latest, which was a scrawl in quavering +characters over three telegraph forms. It was from Ladcock at Gilgit, +saying that he was having a row of his own with the navvies there, and +that he could send no reinforcements at present. If he quieted the +trouble in time he would try and hold the Mazeno Pass, and meanwhile he +had done his best to wake the Punjab. As the wires would be probably +cut within the next hour there would be no more communications, but he +besought Thwaite to keep the invader in the passes, as the whole south +country was a magazine waiting for a spark to explode. The message ran +in short violent words, and Thwaite had a vision of Ladcock, short, +ruddy, and utterly out of temper, stirred up from his easy life to hold +a frontier.</p> + +<p>There was no word from Yasin, as indeed he had expected, for the tribes +on the highlands about Hunza and Punial were the most disaffected on the +Border, and doubtless the first to be tampered with. Probably his own +message had never gone, and he could only pray that the men there might +by the grace of God have eyes in their heads to read the signs of the +times. There was a brief word from Jackson at Boonji. There attacks +had been made on the terminus and the engine-sheds since sunset, which +his men had luckily had time to repulse. A large amount of +rolling-stock was lying there, as five freight trains had brought up +material for the new bridge the day before. Of this the enemy had +probably had word. Anyhow, he hoped to quiet all local disturbances, +and he would undertake to see that every station on the line was warned. +He would receive reinforcements from Abbotabad by the afternoon of the +next day; if Bardur and Gilgit, or Yasin as it might be, could delay the +attack till then everything might be safe—unless, indeed, the whole +nexus of hill-tribes rose as one man. In which case there would be the +devil to pay, and he had no advice to give.</p> + +<p>Thwaite read and laughed grimly. It was not a question of a day’s +delay, but of an hour’s, and the hill-tribes, if he judged Marker’s +cleverness rightly, would act just as Jackson feared. The business had +begun among the navvies at Bardur and Gilgit and Boonji. In a little +they would have news of real tribal war—Hunzas, Pathans, Chitralis, +Punialis, and Chils, tribes whom England had fought a dozen times before +and knew the mettle of; now would be the time for their innings. Well +supplied with money and arms—this would have been part of Marker’s +business—they would be the forerunners of the great army. First savage +war, then scientific annihilation by civilized hands—a sweet prospect +for a peaceful man in the prime of life!</p> + +<p>He returned to the fort to find all quiet and in order. It commanded +the north road, but though the eye might weary itself with looking on +the moonlit sandy valley and the opaque blue hills, there was no sight +or sound of men. The stars were burning hard and cold in the vault of +sky, and looking down somewhere on the march of an army. It was now +close on midnight; in five hours dawn would break in the east and the +night of attack would be gone. But death waited between this midnight +hour and the morning. What were Haystoun and the men from Khautmi +doing? Fighting or beyond all fighting? Well, he would soon know. He +was not afraid, but this cursed waiting took the heart out of a man! +And he looked at his watch and found it half-past twelve.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>At Yasin there was the most severe fighting. It lasted for three days, +and in effect amounted to a little tribal war. A man called Mackintosh +commanded, and he had the advantage of having regulars with him, Gurkhas +for the most part, who were old campaigners. The place had seemed +unquiet for some days, and certain precautions had been taken, so that +when the rioting broke out at sunset it was easy to get the town under +subjection and prepare for external attack. The Chiling Pass into +Chitral had given trouble of old, but Mackintosh was scarcely prepared +for the systematic assaults of Punialis and Tangiris from the east and +south. Having always been famous as an alarmist he put the right +interpretation on the business, and settled down to what he half hoped, +half feared, might be a great frontier war. The place was strong only +on the north side, and the defence was as much a question of engineering +as of war. His Sepoys toiled gallantly at the incomplete defences, +while the rest fought hand to hand—bayonet against knife, Metford +against Enfield—to cover their labour. He lost many men, but on the +evening of the next day he had the satisfaction of seeing the +fortifications complete, and he awaited a siege with equanimity, as he +was well victualled.</p> + +<p>On the second night the enemy again attacked, but the moon was bright, +and they were no match for his sharpshooters. About two in the morning +they fell back, and for the next day it looked as if they proposed to +invest the garrison. But by the third evening they began to melt away, +taking with them such small plunder as they had won. Mackintosh, who +was a man of enterprise, told off a detachment for pursuit, and cursed +bitterly the fate which had broken his ankle with a rifle-bullet.</p> + +<p>In the south along the railway the warnings came in good time. At Rawal +Pindi there was some small difficulty with native officials, a large +body of whom seemed to have unaccountably disappeared. This delayed for +some time the sending of a freight-train to Abbotabad, but by and by +substitutes were found, and the works left under guard. The telegram to +Peshawur found things in readiness there, for memories of old trouble +still linger, and people sleep lightly on that frontier. Word came of +native riots in the south, at Lahore and Amritsar, and the line of towns +which mark the way to Delhi. In some places extraordinary accidents +were reported. Certain officers had gone off on holiday and had not +returned; odd and unintelligible commands had come to perplex the minds +of others; whole camps were reported sick where sickness was least +expected. A little rising of certain obscure rivers had broken up an +important highway by destroying all the bridges save the one which +carried the railway. The whole north was on the brink of a sudden +disorganization, but the brink had still to be passed. It lay with its +masters to avert calamity; and its masters, going about with haggard +faces, prayed for daylight and a few hours to prepare.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>George had sent his men to Khautmi before he entered the telegraph hut, +and he followed himself in twenty minutes. Somewhere upon the hill-road +he met St. John with a dozen men, who abused him roundly and besought +details.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure?†he cried. “For God’s sake, say you’re mistaken. For, +if you’re not, upon my soul it’s the last hour for all of us.â€</p> + +<p>George was in little mood for jest. He told Lewis’s tale in a few +words.</p> + +<p>“A pass beyond Nazri,†the man cried. “Why, I was there shooting buck +last week. Up the nullah and over the ridge, and then a cleft at the +top of the next valley? Does he say there’s a pass there? Maybe, but +I’ll be hanged if an army could get through. If we get there we can +hold it.â€</p> + +<p>“We haven’t time. They may be here at any moment. Send men to Forza +and get them to light the fires. Oh, for God’s sake, be quick! I’ve +left Haystoun down there. The obstinate beggar was too tired to move.â€</p> + +<p>Over all the twenty odd miles between Forza and Khautmi there is a chain +of fires which can be used for signals in the Border wars. On this +night Khautmi was to take the west side of the Nazri gully and Forza the +east, and the two quickest runners in the place were sent off to Andover +with the news. He was to come towards them, leaving men at the +different signal-posts in case of scattered assaults, and if he came in +time the two forces would join in holding the Nazri pass. But should +the invader come before, then it fell on the Khautmi men to stand alone. +It was a smooth green hollow in the stony hills, some hundred yards +wide, and at the most they might hope to make a fight of thirty minutes. +St. John and George, with their men, ran down the stony road till the +sweat dripped from their brows, though the night was chilly. Mitchinson +was to follow with the rest and light the fires; meantime, they must get +to Nazri, in case the march should forestall them. St. John was +cursing his ill-luck. Two hours earlier and they might have held the +distant cleft in the hills, and, if they were doomed to perish, have +perished to some purpose. But the holding of the easy Nazri pass was +sheer idle mania, and yet it was the only chance of gaining some paltry +minutes. As for George, he had forgotten his vexatious. His one +anxiety was for Lewis; that he should be in time to have his friend at +his side. And when at last they came down on the pass and saw the +camp-fire blazing fiercely and no trace of the enemy, he experienced a +sense of vast relief. Lewis was making himself comfortable, cool beggar +that he was, and now was probably sleeping. He should be left alone; so +he persuaded St. John that the best point to take their stand on was on +a shoulder of hill beyond the fire. It gave him honest pleasure to +think that at last he had stolen a march on his friend. He should at +least have his sleep in peace before the inevitable end.</p> + +<p>He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past eleven.</p> + +<p>“Haystoun said they’d be here at midnight,†he whispered to his +companion. “We haven’t long. When do you suppose Andover will come?â€</p> + +<p>“Not for an hour and a half at the earliest. Afraid this is going to be +our own private show. Where’s Haystoun?â€</p> + +<p>George nodded back to the fire in the hollow, and the tent beside it. +“There, I expect, sleeping. He’s dog-tired, and he always was a very +cool hand in a row. He’ll be wakened soon enough, poor chap.â€</p> + +<p>“You’re sure he can’t tell us anything?â€</p> + +<p>“Nothing. He told me all. Better let him be.†Mitchinson came up with +the rearguard. Living all but alone in the wilds had made him a silent +man compared to whom the taciturn St. John was garrulous. He nodded to +George and sat down.</p> + +<p>“How many are we?†George asked.</p> + +<p>“Forty-three, counting the three of us. Not enough for a good stand. +Wonder how it’ll turn out. Never had to do such a thing before.â€</p> + +<p>St. John, whose soul longed for Maxims, posted his men as best he +could. There was no time to throw up earthworks, but a rough cairn of +stone which stood in the middle of the hollow gave at least a central +rallying-ground. Then they waited, watching the fleecy night vapours +blow across the peaks and straining their ears for the first sound of +men.</p> + +<p>George grew impatient. “It can’t be more than five miles to the pass. +Shouldn’t some of us try to get there? It would make all the +difference.â€</p> + +<p>St. John declined sharply. “We’ve taken our place and we must stick to +it. We can’t afford to straggle. Hullo! it’s just on twelve. Thwaite +has had three hours to prepare, and he’s bound to have wakened the +south. I fancy the business won’t quite come off this time.â€</p> + +<p>Suddenly in the chilly silence there rose something like the faint and +distant sound of rifles. It was no more than the sound of stone +dropping on a rock ledge, for, still and clear and cold though the night +was, the narrowness of the valley and the height of the cliffs dulled +all distant sounds. But each man had the ear of the old hunter, and +waited with head bent forward.</p> + +<p>Again the drip-drip; then a scattering noise as when one lets peas fall +on the floor.</p> + +<p>“God! That’s carbines. Who the devil are they fighting with?†+Mitchinson’s eye had lost its lethargy. His scraggy neck was craned +forward, and his grim mouth had relaxed into a grimmer smile.</p> + +<p>“It’s them, sure enough,†said St. John, and spoke something to his +servant.</p> + +<p>“I’m going forward,†said George. “It may be somebody else making a +stand, and we’re bound to help.â€</p> + +<p>“You’re bound not to be an ass,†said St. John. “Who in the Lord’s +name could it be? It may be the Badas polishing off some hereditary +foes, and it may be Marker getting rid of some wandering hillmen. Man, +we’re miles beyond the pale. Who’s to make a stand but ourselves?â€</p> + +<p>Again came the patter of little sounds, and then a long calm.</p> + +<p>“They’re through now,†said St. John. “The next thing to listen for is +the sound of their feet. When that comes I pass the word along. We’re +all safe for heaven, so keep your minds easy.â€</p> + +<p>But the sound of feet was long in coming. Only the soft night airs, and +at rare intervals an eagle’s cry, or the bleat of a doe from the valley +bottom. The first half-hour of waiting was a cruel strain. In such +moments a man’s sins rise up large before him. When his future life is +narrowed down to an hour’s compass, he sees with cruel distinctness the +follies of his past. A thousand things he had done or left undone +loomed on George’s mental horizon. His slackness, his self-indulgence, +his unkindness—he went over the whole innocent tale of his sins. To +the happy man who lives in the open and meets the world with a square +front this forced final hour of introspection has peculiar terrors. +Meantime Lewis was sleeping peacefully in the tent by the still cheerful +fire. Thank God, he was spared this hideous waiting!</p> + +<p>About two Andover turned up with fifteen men, hot and desperate. He +listened to St. John’s story in silence.</p> + +<p>“Thank God, I’m in time. Who found out this? Haystoun? Good man, +Lewis! I wonder who has been firing out there. They can’t have been +stopped? It’s getting devilish late for them anyhow, and I believe +there’s a little hope. It would be too risky to leave this pass, but I +vote we send a scout.â€</p> + +<p>A man was chosen and dispatched. Two hours later he returned to the +mystified watchers at Nazri. He had been on the hill-shoulder and +looked into the cleft. There was no sign of men there, but he had heard +the sound of men, though where he could not tell. Far down the cleft +there was a gleam of fire, but no man near it.</p> + +<p>“That’s a Bada dodge,†said Andover promptly. “Now I wonder if Marker +trusted too much to these gentry, and they have done us the excellent +service of misleading him. They hate us like hell, and they’d sell +their souls any day for a dozen cartridges; so it can’t have been done +on purpose. Seems to me there has been a slip in his plans somewhere.â€</p> + +<p>But the sound of voices! The man was questioned closely, and he was +strong on its truth. He was a hillman from the west of the Khyber, and +he swore that he knew the sound of human speech in the hills many miles +off, though he could not distinguish the words.</p> + +<p>“In thirty minutes it will be morning,†said George. “Lord, such a +night, and Lewis to have missed it all!†His spirits were rising, and he +lit a pipe. The north was safe whatever happened, and, as the inertness +of midnight passed off, he felt satisfaction in any prospect, however +hazardous. He sat down beneath a boulder and smoked, while Andover +talked with the others. They were the frontier soldiers, and this was +their profession; he was the amateur to whom technicalities were +unmeaning.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he sprang up and touched St. John on the shoulder. A great +chill seemed to have passed over the world, and on the hill-tops there +was a faint light. Both men looked to the east, and there, beyond the +Forza hills, was the red foreglow spreading over the grey. It was dawn, +and with the dawn came safety. The fires had burned low, and the +vagrant morning winds were beginning to scatter the white ashes. Now +was the hour for bravado, since the time for silence had gone. St. +John gave the word, and it was passed like a roll-call to left and +right, the farthest man shouting it along the ribs of mountain to the +next watch-fire. The air had grown clear and thin, and far off the dim +repetition was heard, which told of sentries at their place, and the +line of posts which rimmed the frontier.</p> + +<p>Mitchinson moistened his dry lips and filled his lungs with the cold, +fresh air. “That,†he said slowly, “is the morning report of the last +outpost of the Empire, and by the grace of God it’s ‘All’s well.’â€</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII<br /><br /> +<small>THE BLESSING OF GAD</small></h2> + +<p>“Gad—a troop shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the last.â€</p> + +<p>Lewis peered into the gorge and saw only a thin darkness. The high +walls made pits of shade at the foot, but above there was a misty column +of light which showed the spectres of rock and bush in the nullah +beyond. It was all but dark, and the stars were coming out like the +lights on a sea-wall, hard and cold and gleaming. Just in the throat of +the pass a huge boulder had fallen and left a passage not two yards +wide. Beyond there was a sharp descent of a dozen feet to the gravelled +bottom which fell away in easier stages to the other watershed. Here +was a place made by nature for his plans. With immense pains he rolled +the biggest stones he could move to the passage, so that they were +poised above the slope. He tried the great boulder, too, with his +shoulders, and it seemed to quiver. In the last resort this mass of +rock might be sent crashing down the incline, and by the blessing of God +it should account for its man.</p> + +<p>He brought his rifles forward to the stones, loaded them and felt the +cartridges easy in his pocket. They were for the thirty-yards range; +his pistol would be kept for closer quarters. He tried one after the +other, cuddling the stocks to his cheek. They were all dear-loved +weapons, used in deer-stalking at home and on many a wilder beat. He +knew the tricks of each, and he had little pet devices laughed at by his +friends. This one had clattered down fifty feet of rock in Ross-shire +as the scars on the stock bore witness, and another had his initials +burned in the wood, the relic of a winter’s night in a Finnish camp. A +thousand old pleasant memories came back to him, the sights and scents +and sounds of forgotten places, the zest of toil and escapade, the joy +of food and warmth and rest. Well! he had lived, had tasted to the +full the joys of the old earth, the kindly mother of her children. He +had faced death thoughtlessly many times, and now the Ancient Enemy was +on his heels and he was waiting to give him greeting. A phrase ran in +his head, some trophy from his aimless wanderings among books, which +spoke of death coming easily to one “who has walked steadfastly in the +direction of his dreams.†It was a comforting thought to a creature of +moods and fancies. He had failed, doubtless, but he had ever kept some +select fanciful aim unforgotten. In all his weakness he had never +betrayed this ultimate Desire of the Heart.</p> + +<p>Some few feet up the cliff was a little thicket of withered thorns. The +air was chilly and the cleft was growing very black. Why should not he +make a fire behind the great boulder? He gathered some armfuls and +heaped them in a space of dry sand. They were a little wet, so they +burned slowly with a great smoke, which the rising night wind blew +behind him. He was still hungry, so he ate the food he had brought in +his pockets; and then he lit his pipe. How oddly the tobacco tasted in +this moment of high excitement! It was as if the essence of all the +pipes he had ever smoked was concentrated into this last one. The smoke +blew back, and as he sniffed its old homely fragrance he seemed to feel +the smell of peat and heather, of drenched homespun in the snowy bogs, +and the glory of a bright wood fire and the moorland cottage. In a +second his thoughts were many thousand miles away. The night wind +cooled his brow, and he looked into the dark gap and saw his own past.</p> + +<p>The first picture was a cold place on a low western island. Snow was +drifting sparsely, and a dull grey Atlantic swell was grumbling on the +reefs. He was crouching among the withered rushes, where seaweed and +shells had been blown, and snow lay in dirty patches. He felt the thick +collar of his shooting-coat tight about his neck, while the December +evening grew darker and colder. A gillie, who had no English, was lying +at his right hand, and far out at sea a string of squattering geese were +slowly drifting shorewards with the wind. He saw the scene clear in +every line, and he remembered the moment as if it had been yesterday. It +had been one of his periods of great exultation. He had just left +Oxford, and had fled northward after some weeks in Paris to wash out the +taste of civilization from his mouth among the island north-westers. He +had had a great day among the woodcock, and now was finishing with a +stalk after wild geese. He was furiously hungry, chilled and soaked to +the bone, but riotously happy. His future seemed to stretch before him, +a brighter continuation of a bright past, a time for high achievement, +bold work, and yet no surcease of pleasure. He had been master of +himself in that hour, his body firm and strong, his soul clear, his mind +a tempered weapon awaiting his hands.</p> + +<p>And then the scene changed to a June evening in his own countryside. He +was deep in the very heart of the hills beside a little loch, whose +clear waves lapped on beaches of milky sand, it was just on twilight, +and an infinite sighing of soft winds was around him, a far-away +ineffable brightness of sunset, and the good scents of dusk among thyme +and heather. He had fished all the afternoon, and his catch lay on the +bent beside him. He was to sleep the night in his plaid, and already a +fire of heather-roots behind him was prepared for supper. He had been +for a swim, and his hair was still wet on his forehead. Just across a +conical hill rose into the golden air, the highest hill in all the +countryside, but here but a little thing, for the loch was as high as +many a hill-top. Just on its face was a scaur, and there a raven—a +speck—was wheeling slowly. Among the little islands broods of mallard +were swimming, and trout in a bay were splashing with wide circles. The +whole place had seemed caught up into an ecstasy, a riot of gold and +crimson and far-off haunting shades and scents and voices. And yet it +was no wild spectacle; it was the delicate comfort of it all which had +charmed him. Life seemed one glorious holiday, the world a garden of +the gods. There was his home across the hills, with its cool chambers, +its books and pictures, its gardens and memories. There were his +friends up and down the earth. There was the earth itself waiting for +his conquest. And, meantime, there was this airy land around him, his +own by the earliest form of occupation.</p> + +<p>The fire died down to embers and a sudden scattering of ashes woke him +out of his dreaming. The old Scots land was many thousand miles away. +His past was wiped out behind him. He was alone in a very strange +place, cut off by a great gulf from youth and home and pleasure. For an +instant the extreme loneliness of an exile’s death smote him, but the +next second he comforted himself. The heritage of his land and his +people was his in this ultimate moment a hundredfold more than ever. +The sounding tale of his people’s wars—one against a host, a foray in +the mist, a last stand among the mountain snows—sang in his heart like +a tune. The fierce, northern exultation, which glories in hardships and +the forlorn, came upon him with such keenness and delight that, as he +looked into the night and the black unknown, he felt the joy of a +greater kinship. He was kin to men lordlier than himself, the +true-hearted who had ridden the King’s path and trampled a little world +under foot. To the old fighters in the Border wars, the religionists of +the South, the Highland gentlemen of the Cause, he cried greeting over +the abyss of time. He had lost no inch of his inheritance. Where, +indeed, was the true Scotland? Not in the little barren acres he had +left, the few thousands of city-folk, or the contentions of unlovely +creeds and vain philosophies. The elect of his race had ever been the +wanderers. No more than Hellas had his land a paltry local unity. +Wherever the English flag was planted anew, wherever men did their duty +faithfully and without hope of little reward—there was the fatherland +of the true patriot.</p> + +<p>The time was passing, and still the world was quiet. The hour must be +close on midnight, and still there was no sign of men. For the first +time he dared to hope for success. Before, an hour’s delay was all that +he had sought. To give the north time for a little preparation, to make +defence possible, had been his aim; now with the delay he seemed to see +a chance for victory. Bardur would be alarmed hours ago; men would be +on the watch all over Kashmir and the Punjab; the railways would be +guarded. The invader would find at the least no easy conquest. When +they had trodden his life out in the defile they would find stronger men +to bar their path, and he would not have died in vain. It was a slender +satisfaction for vanity, for what share would he have in the defence? +Unknown, unwept, he would perish utterly, and to others would be the +glory. He did not care, nay, he rejoiced in the brave obscurity. He +had never sought so vulgar a thing as fame. He was going out of life +like a snuffed candle. George, if George survived, would know nothing +of his death. He was miles beyond the frontier, and if George, after +months of war, should make his way to this fatal cleft, what trace would +he find of him? And all his friends, Wratislaw, Arthur Mordaunt, the +folk of Glenavelin—no word would ever come to them to tell them of his +end.</p> + +<p>But Alice—and in one wave there returned to him the story which he had +striven to put out of his heart. She had known him in his weakness, but +she would never think of him in his strength. The whimsical fate +pleased him. The last meeting on that grey autumn afternoon at the +Broken Bridge had heartened him for his travellings. It had been a +compact between them; and now he was redeeming the promise of the tryst. +And she would never know it, would only know that somewhere and somehow +he had ceased to struggle with an inborn weakness. Well-a-day! It was +no world of rounded corners and complete achievements. It was enough if +a hint, a striving, a beginning were found in the scheme of man’s +frailty. He had no clear-cut conception of a future—that was the happy +lot of the strong-hearted—but he had a generous intolerance of little +success. He did not ask rewards, but he prayed for the hope of a good +beginning or a gallant failure. The odd romance which lies in the +wanderer’s brain welcomed the paradox. Alice and her bright hair +floated dim on the horizon of his vision, something exquisite and dear, +a memory, a voice, a note of tenderness in this last exhilaration. A +sentimental passion was beyond him; he was too critical of folly to +worship any lost lady; and he had no love for vain reminiscences. But +the girl had become the embodied type of the past. A year ago he had +not seen her, now she was home and childhood and friends to him. For a +moment there was the old heart-hunger, but the pain had gone. The +ineffectual longing which had galled him had perished at the advent of +his new strength.</p> + +<p>For in this ultimate moment he at last seemed to have come to his own. +The vulgar little fears, which, like foxes, gnaw at the roots of the +heart, had gone, even the greater perils of faint hope and a halting +energy. The half-hearted had become the stout-hearted. The resistless +vigour of the strong and the simple was his. He stood in the dark gully +peering into the night, his muscles stiff from heel to neck. The +weariness of the day had gone: only the wound in his ear, got the day +before, had begun to bleed afresh. He wiped the blood away with his +handkerchief, and laughed at the thought of this little care. In a few +minutes he would be facing death, and now he was staunching a pin-prick.</p> + +<p>He wondered idly how soon death would come. It would be speedy, at +least, and final. And then the glory of the utter loss. His bones +whitening among the stones, the suns of summer beating on them and the +winter snowdrifts decently covering them with a white sepulchre. No man +could seek a lordlier burial. It was the death he had always craved. +From murder, fire, and sudden death, why should we call on the Lord to +deliver us? A broken neck in a hunting-field, a slip on rocky +mountains, a wounded animal at bay—such was the environment of death +for which he had ever prayed. But this—this was beyond his dreams.</p> + +<p>And with it all a great humility fell upon him. His battles were all +unfought. His life had been careless and gay; and the noble +commonplaces of faith and duty had been things of small meaning. He had +lived within the confines of a little aristocracy of birth and wealth +and talent, and the great melancholy world scourged by the winds of God +had seemed to him but a phrase of rhetoric. His creeds and his +arguments seemed meaningless now in this solemn hour; the truth had been +his no more than his crude opponent’s! Had he his days to live over +again he would look on the world with different eyes. No man any more +should call him a dreamer. It pleased him to think that, half-hearted +and sceptical as he had been, a humorist, a laughing philosopher, he was +now dying for one of the catchwords of the crowd. He had returned to +the homely paths of the commonplace, and young, unformed, untried, he +was caught up by kind fate to the place of the wise and the heroic.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Suddenly on his thoughts there broke in a dull tread of men, a sound of +slipping stones and feet upon dry gravel. He broke into the cold sweat +of tense nerves, and waited, half hidden, with his rifle ready. Then +came the light of dull lanterns which showed a thin, endless column +beneath the rock walls. They advanced with wonderful quietness, the +sound of feet broken only by a soft word of command. He calculated the +distance—now it was three hundred yards, now two, now a bare eighty. +At fifty his rifle flew to his shoulder and he fired. His nerves were +bad, for one bullet clicked on the rock, while the second took the dust +a yard before the enemy’s feet. Instantly there was a halt and the +sound of speech.</p> + +<p>The failure had steadied him. The second pair of shots killed their +men. He heard the quick cry of pain and shivered. He was new to this +work and the cry hurt him. But he picked up his express and fired +again, and again there was a cry and a fall. Then he heard a word of +command and the sound of men creeping in the side of the nullah. Eye +and ear were marvelously acute at the moment, for he picked out the +scouts and killed them. Then he loaded his rifles and waited.</p> + +<p>He saw a man in the half-light not five yards below him. He fired and +the man dropped, but he had used his rifle and the great spattering of +earth showed his whereabouts. Now was the time for keen eye and steady +arm. The enemy had halted thirty yards off and beneath the slope there +was a patch of darkness. He kept one eye on this, for it might contain +a man. He fixed his attention on a ray of moonlight which fell across +the floor of the gully. When a man crept past this he shot, and he +rarely failed.</p> + +<p>Then a command was given and the column came forward at the double. He +fired two shots, but the advance continued. They passed the ray of +light and he saw the whites of their eyes and the gleam of teeth and +steel. They paused a second to fire a volley, and a storm of shot +rattled about him. He had stepped back into his shelter, and was +unscathed, but when he looked out he saw the enemy at the foot of the +slope. His weapons were all loaded except the express, and in mad haste +he sent shot after shot into the ranks. The fire halted them, and for a +second they were on the edge of a panic. This unknown destruction +coming out of the darkness was terrifying to the stoutest hearts. All +the while there was wrath behind them. This stopping of the advance +column was throwing the whole force into confusion. Angry messages came +up from the centre, and distracted officers cursed their native guides.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Lewis was something wholly unlike himself, a maddened creature +with every sense on the alert, drinking in the glory of the fight. He +husbanded the chances of his life with generous parsimony. Every chance +meant some minutes’ delay and every delay a new link of safety for the +north. His cartridges were getting near an end, but there still +remained the stones and his pistol and the power of his arm hand to +hand.</p> + +<p>Suddenly came a second volley which all but killed him, bullets glancing +on all sides of him and scraping the rocks with a horrid message of +death. Then on the heels of it came a charge up the slope. The turn +had come for the last expedient. He rushed to the stone and with the +strength of madness rooted it from its foundations. It wavered for a +second, and then with a cloud of earth and gravel it plunged downwards. +A second and it had ploughed its way with a sickening grinding sound +into the ranks of the men below. There was one wild scream of terror, +and then a retreat, a flight, almost a panic.</p> + +<p>Down in the hollow was a babel of sound, men yelping with fright, +officers calming and cursing them, and the shouting of the forces +behind. For Lewis the last moment was approaching. The neck of the +pass was now bare and wide and half of the slope was gone. He had lost +his weapons in the fall, all but his express, and the loosening of the +stone had crushed his foot so that he could scarcely stand. Then order +seemed to be restored, for another volley rang out, which passed over +his head as he crouched on the ground. The enemy were advancing slowly, +resolutely. He knew that now there was something different in their +tread.</p> + +<p>He was calm and quiet. The mad exhilaration was ebbing and he was +calculating chances as dispassionately as a scientist in his study. Two +shots, the six chambers of his pistol, and then he would be ground to +powder. The moon rode over the top of the cleft and a sudden wave of +light fell on the slope, the writhing dead, and below, the advancing +column. It gave him a chance for fair shooting, and he did not miss. +But the men were maddened with anger and taunts, and they would have +charged a battery. They came up on the slope with a fierce rush, +cursing in gutturals. He slipped behind the old friendly jag of rock +and waited till they were abreast. Then began a strange pistol +practice. Crouching in the darkness he selected his men and shot them, +making no mistake. The front ranks of the column turned to the right +and lunged with their bayonets into the gloom. But the man knew his +purpose. He climbed farther back till he was above their heads, looking +down on ranks of white inhuman faces mad with slaughter and the courage +which is next door to fear. They were still advancing, but with an +uncertain air. He saw his chance and took it. Crying out he knew not +what, he leapt among them with clutched rifle, striking madly to right +and left. There was a roar of fright, and for a moment a space was +cleared around him. He fought like a maniac, stumbling with his crushed +foot and leaving two men stunned at his feet. But it was only for a +moment. A bayonet entered his side and his rifle snapped at the stock. +He grappled with the nearest man and pulled him to the ground, for he +could stand no longer. Then there came a wild surge around, a dozen +bayonets pierced him, and in the article of death he was conscious of a +great press which ground him into the earth. The next moment the column +was marching over his body.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Dawn came with light and sweet airs to the dark cleft in the hills. +Just at that moment, when the red east was breaking into spires and +clouds of colour, and the little morning winds were beginning to flutter +among the crags, two men were standing in the throat of the pass. The +ground about them was ploughed up as if by a battery, the rock seamed +and broken, and red stains of blood were on the dry gravel. From the +north, in the direction of the plain, came the confused sound of an army +in camp. But to the south there was a glimpse through an aperture of +hill of a far side of mountain, and on it a gleam as of fire.</p> + +<p>Marka, clad in the uniform of a captain of Cossacks, looked fiercely at +his companion and then at the beacon.</p> + +<p>“Look,†he said, “look and listen!†And sure enough in the morning +stillness came the sound as of a watchword cried from post to post.</p> + +<p>“That,†said he, “is the morning signal of an awakened empire and the +final proof of our failure.â€</p> + +<p>“It was no fault of mine,†said Fazir Khan sourly. “I did as I was +commanded, and lo! when I come I find an army in confusion and the +frontier guarded.†The chief spoke with composure, but he had in his +heart an uneasy consciousness that he had had some share in this +undoing.</p> + +<p>Marka looked down at a body which lay wrinkled across the path. It was +trodden all but shapeless, the poor face was unrecognizable, the legs +were scrawled like a child’s letters. Only one hand with a broken gold +signet-ring remained to tell of the poor inmate of the clay.</p> + +<p>The Cossack looked down on the dead with a scowling face. “Curse +him—curse him eternally. Who would have guessed that this fool, this +phrasing fool, would have spoiled our plans? Curse his conscience and +his honour, and God pity him for a fool! I must return to my troops, +for this is no place to linger in.†The man saw his work of years +spoiled in a night, and all by the agency of a single adventurer. He +saw his career blighted, his reputation gone. It is not to be wondered +at if he was bitter.</p> + +<p>He turned to go, and in leaving pushed the dead man over with his foot. +He saw the hand and the broken ring.</p> + +<p>“This thing was once a gentleman,†he said, and he went down the pass.</p> + +<p>But Fazir Khan remained by the body. He remembered his guest of two +days before, and he cursed himself for underrating this wandering +Englishman. He saw himself in evil case. His chances of spoil and +glory had departed. He foresaw expeditions of reprisal, and the +Bada-Mawidi hunted like partridges upon the mountains. He had staked his +all on a desperate chance, and this one man had been his ruin. For a +moment the barbarian came out, and in a sudden ferocity he kicked the +dead.</p> + +<p>But as he looked again he was moved to a juster appreciation.</p> + +<p>“This thing was a man,†he said.</p> + +<p>Then stooping he dipped his finger in blood and touched his forehead. +“This man,†he said, “was of the race of kings.â€</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Half-Hearted, by John Buchan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-HEARTED *** + +***** This file should be named 17047-h.htm or 17047-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/0/4/17047/ + +Produced by MRK + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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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 www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Half-Hearted + + +Author: John Buchan + + + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [eBook #17047] +[Last updated: October 13, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-HEARTED*** + + +E-text prepared by MRK + + + + +THE HALF-HEARTED + +by + +JOHN BUCHAN + + + + +NOTE + +For the convenience of the reader it may +be stated that the period of this tale is the +closing years of the 19th Century. + + + + +CONTENTS + +PART I + + I. EVENING IN GLENAVELIN + II. LADY MANORWATER'S GUESTS + III. UPLAND WATER + IV. AFTERNOON IN A GARDEN + V. A CONFERENCE OF THE POWERS + VI. PASTORAL + VII. THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE + VIII. MR. WRATISLAW'S ADVENT + IX. THE EPISODES OF A DAY + X. HOME TRUTHS + XI. THE PRIDE BEFORE A FALL + XII. PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY + XIII. THE PLEASURES OF A CONSCIENCE + XIV. A GENTLEMAN IN STRAITS + XV. THE NEMESIS OF A COWARD + XVI. A MOVEMENT OF THE POWERS + XVII. THE BRINK OF THE RUBICON + XVIII. THE FURTHER BRINK + XIX. THE BRIDGE OF BROKEN HEARTS + +PART II + + XX. THE EASTERN ROAD + XXI. IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS + XXII. THE OUTPOSTS + XXIII. THE DINNER AT GALETTI'S + XXIV. THE TACTICS OP A CHIEF + XXV. MRS. LOGAN'S BALL + XXVI. FRIEND TO FRIEND + XXVII. THE ROAD TO FORZA + XXVIII. THE HILL-FORT + XXIX. THE WAY TO NAZRI + XXX. EVENING IN THE HILLS + XXXI. EVENTS SOUTH OF THE BORDER + XXXII. THE BLESSING OF GAD + + + + +THE HALF-HEARTED + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +EVENING IN GLENAVELIN + + +From the heart of a great hill land Glenavelin stretches west and south +to the wider Gled valley, where its stream joins with the greater water +in its seaward course. Its head is far inland in a place of mountain +solitudes, but its mouth is all but on the lip of the sea, and salt +breezes fight with the flying winds of the hills. It is a land of green +meadows on the brink of heather, of far-stretching fir woods that climb +to the edge of the uplands and sink to the fringe of corn. Nowhere is +there any march between art and nature, for the place is in the main for +sheep, and the single road which threads the glen is little troubled +with cart and crop-laden wagon. Midway there is a stretch of wood and +garden around the House of Glenavelin, the one great dwelling-place in +the vale. But it is a dwelling and a little more, for the home of the +real lords of the land is many miles farther up the stream, in the +moorland house of Etterick, where the Avelin is a burn, and the hills +hang sharply over its source. To a stranger in an afternoon it seems a +very vale of content, basking in sun and shadow, green, deep, and +silent. But it is also a place of storms, for its name means the "glen +of white waters," and mist and snow are commoner in its confines than +summer heats. + +On a very wet evening in June a young man in a high dogcart was driving +up the glen. A deer-stalker's cap was tied down over his ears, and the +collar of a great white waterproof defended his neck. A cheerful +bronzed face was shadowed by the peak of his cap, and two very keen grey +eyes peered out into the mist. He was driving with tight rein, for the +mare was fresh and the road had awkward slopes and corners; but none the +less he was dreaming, thinking pleasant thoughts, and now and then +looking cheerily at the ribs of hill which at times were cleared of +mist. His clean-shaven face was wet and shining with the drizzle, pools +formed on the floor of the cart, and the mare's flanks were plastered +with the weather. + +Suddenly he drew up sharp at the sight of a figure by the roadside. + +"Hullo, Doctor Gracey," he cried, "where on earth have you come from? +Come in and I'll give you a lift." + +The figure advanced and scrambled into the vacant seat. It was a little +old man in a big topcoat with a quaint-fashioned wide-awake hat on his +head. In ill weather all distinctions are swept away. The stranger +might have been a statesman or a tramp. + +"It is a pleasure to see you, Doctor," and the young man grasped a +mittened hand and looked into his companion's face. There was something +both kindly and mirthful in his grey eyes. + +The old man arranged his seat comfortably, buttoned another button at +the neck of the coat, and then scrutinised the driver. "It's four +years--four years in October since I last cast eyes on you, Lewie, my +boy," he said. "I heard you were coming, so I refused a lift from +Haystounslacks and the minister. Haystounslacks was driving from +Gledsmuir, and unless the Lord protects him he will be in Avelin water +ere he gets home. Whisky and a Glenavelin road never agree, Lewie, as I +who have mended the fool's head a dozen times should know. But I +thought you would never come, and was prepared to ride in the next +baker's van." The Doctor spoke with the pure English and high northern +voice of an old school of professional men, whose tongue, save in +telling a story, knew not the vernacular, and yet in its pitch and +accent inevitably betrayed their birthplace. Precise in speech and +dress, uncommonly skilful, a mild humorist, and old in the world's +wisdom, he had gone down the evening way of life with the heart of a +boy. + +"I was delayed--I could not help it, though I was all afternoon at the +job," said the young man. "I've seen a dozen and more tenants and I +talked sheep and drains till I got out of my depth and was gravely +corrected. It's the most hospitable place on earth, this, but I thought +it a pity to waste a really fine hunger on the inevitable ham and eggs, +so I waited for dinner. Lord, I have an appetite! Come and dine, +Doctor. I am in solitary state just now, and long, wet evenings are +dreary." + +"I'm afraid I must excuse myself, Lewie," was the formal answer, with +just a touch of reproof. Dinner to Doctor Gracey was a serious +ceremony, and invitations should not be scattered rashly. "My +housekeeper's wrath is not to be trifled with, as you should know." + +"I do," said the young man in a tone of decent melancholy. "She once +cuffed my ears the month I stayed with you for falling in the burn. +Does she beat you, Doctor?" + +"Indeed, no," said the little old gentleman; "not as yet. But +physically she is my superior and I live in terror." Then abruptly, "For +heaven's sake, Lewie, mind the mare." + +"It's all right," said the driver, as the dogcart swung neatly round an +ugly turn. "There's the mist going off the top of Etterick Law, +and--why, that's the end of the Dreichill?" + +"It's the Dreichill, and beyond it is the Little Muneraw. Are you glad +to be home, Lewie?" + +"Rather," said the young man gravely. "This is my own countryside, and +I fancy it's the last place a man forgets." + +"I fancy so--with right-thinking people. By the way, I have much to +congratulate you on. We old fogies in this desert place have been often +seeing your name in the newspapers lately. You are a most experienced +traveller." + +"Fair. But people made a great deal more of that than it deserved. It +was very simple, and I had every chance. Some day I will go out and do +the same thing again with no advantages, and if I come back you may +praise me then." + +"Right, Lewie. A bare game and no chances is the rule of war. And now, +what will you do?" + +"Settle down," said the young man with mock pathos, "which in my case +means settling up also. I suppose it is what you would call the crucial +moment in my life. I am going in for politics, as I always intended, +and for the rest I shall live a quiet country life at Etterick. I've a +wonderful talent for rusticity." + +The Doctor shot an inquiring glance from beneath the flaps of his hat. +"I never can make up my mind about you, Lewie." + +"I daresay not. It is long since I gave up trying to make up my mind +about myself." + +"When you were a very small and very bad boy I made the usual prophecy +that you would make a spoon or spoil a horn. Later I declared you would +make the spoon. I still keep to that opinion, but I wish to goodness I +knew what shape your spoon would take." + +"Ornamental, Doctor, some odd fancy spoon, but not useful. I feel an +inner lack of usefulness." + +"Humph! Then things are serious, Lewie, and I, as your elder, should +give advice; but confound it, my dear, I cannot think what it should be. +Life has been too easy for you, a great deal too easy. You want a +little of the salt and iron of the world. You are too clever ever to be +conceited, and you are too good a fellow ever to be a fool, but apart +from these sad alternatives there are numerous middle stages which are +not very happy." + +The young man's face lengthened, as it always did either in repose or +reflection. + +"You are old and wise, Doctor. Have you any cure for a man with +sufficient money and no immediate profession to prevent stagnation?" + +"None," said the Doctor; "but the man himself can find many. The chief +is that he be conscious of his danger, and on the watch against it. As +a last expedient I should recommend a second course of travel." + +"But am I to be barred from my home because of this bogey of yours?" + +"No, Lewie lad, but you must be kept, as you say, 'up to scratch,'" and +the old face smiled. "You are too good to waste. You Haystouns are +high-strung, finicking people, on whom idleness sits badly. Also you +are the last of your race and have responsibilities. You must remember +I was your father's friend, and knew you all well." + +At the mention of his father the young man's interest quickened. + +"I must have been only about six years old when he died. I find so few +people who remember him well and can tell me about him." + +"You are very like him, Lewie. He began nearly as well as you; but he +settled down into a quiet life, which was the very thing for which he +was least fitted. I do not know if he had altogether a happy time. He +lost interest in things, and grew shy and rather irritable. He +quarrelled with most of his neighbours, and got into a trick of +magnifying little troubles till he shrank from the slightest +discomfort." + +"And my mother?" + +"Ah, your mother was different--a cheery, brave woman. While she lived +she kept him in some measure of self-confidence, but you know she died +at your birth, Lewie, and after that he grew morose and retiring. I +speak about these things from the point of view of my profession, and I +fancy it is the special disease which lies in your blood. You have all +been over-cultured and enervated; as I say, you want some of the salt +and iron of life." + +The young man's brow was furrowed in a deep frown which in no way broke +the good-humour of his face. They were nearing a cluster of houses, the +last clachan of sorts in the glen, where a kirk steeple in a grove of +trees proclaimed civilization. A shepherd passed them with a couple of +dogs, striding with masterful step towards home and comfort. The cheery +glow of firelight from the windows pleased both men as they were whirled +through the raw weather. + +"There, you see," said the Doctor, nodding his head towards the +retreating figure; "there's a man who in his own way knows the secret of +life. Most of his days are spent in dreary, monotonous toil. He is for +ever wrestling with the weather and getting scorched and frozen, and the +result is that the sparse enjoyments of his life are relished with a +rare gusto. He sucks his pipe of an evening with a zest which the man +who lies on his back all day smoking knows nothing about. So, too, the +labourer who hoes turnips for one and sixpence the day. They know the +arduousness of life, which is a lesson we must all learn sooner or +later. You people who have been coddled and petted must learn it, too; +and for you it is harder to learn, but pleasanter in the learning, +because you stand above the bare need of things, and have leisure for +the adornments. We must all be fighters and strugglers, Lewie, and it +is better to wear out than to rust out. It is bad to let choice things +become easily familiar; for, you know, familiarity is apt to beget a +proverbial offspring." + +The young man had listened attentively, but suddenly he leaned from the +seat and with a dexterous twitch of his whip curled it round the leg of +a boy of sixteen who stood before a cottage. + +"Hullo, Jock," he cried. "When are you coming up to see me? Bring your +brother some day and we'll go and fish the Midburn." The urchin pulled +off a ragged cap and grinned with pleasure. + +"That's the boy you pulled out of the Avelin?" asked the Doctor. "I had +heard of that performance. It was a good introduction to your +home-coming." + +"It was nothing," said the young man, flushing slightly. "I was +crossing the ford and the stream was up a bit. The boy was fishing, +wading pretty deep, and in turning round to stare at me he slipped and +was carried down. I merely rode my horse out and collared him. There +was no danger." + +"And the Black Linn just below," said the Doctor, incredulously. "You +have got the usual modesty of the brave man, Lewie." + +"It was a very small thing. My horse knew its business--that was all." +And he flicked nervously with the whip. + +A grey house among trees rose on the left with a quaint gateway of +unhewn stone. The dogcart pulled up, and the Doctor scrambled down and +stood shaking the rain from his hat and collar. He watched the young +man till, with a skilful turn, he had entered Etterick gates, and then +with a more meditative face than is usual in a hungry man he went +through the trees to his own dwelling. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +LADY MANORWATER'S GUESTS + + +When the afternoon train from the south drew into Gledsmuir station, a +girl who had been devouring the landscape for the last hour with eager +eyes, rose nervously to prepare for exit. To Alice Wishart the country +was a novel one, and the prospect before her an unexplored realm of +guesses. The daughter of a great merchant, she had lived most of her +days in the ugly environs of a city, save for such time as she had spent +at the conventional schools. She had never travelled; the world of men +and things was merely a name to her, and a girlhood, lonely and +brightened chiefly by the companionship of books, had not given her +self-confidence. She had casually met Lady Manorwater at some political +meeting in her father's house, and the elder woman had taken a strong +liking to the quiet, abstracted child. Then came an invitation to +Glenavelin, accepted gladly yet with much fear and searching of heart. +Now, as she looked out on the shining mountain land, she was full of +delight that she was about to dwell in the heart of it. Something of +pride, too, was present, that she was to be the guest of a great lady, +and see something of a life which seemed infinitely remote to her +provincial thoughts. But when her journey drew near its end she was +foolishly nervous, and scanned the platform with anxious eye. + +The sight of her hostess reassured her. Lady Manorwater was a small +middle-aged woman, with a thin classical face, large colourless eyes, +and untidy fair hair. She was very plainly dressed, and as she darted +forward to greet the girl with entire frankness and kindness, Alice +forgot her fears and kissed her heartily. A languid young woman was +introduced as Miss Afflint, and in a few minutes the three were in the +Glenavelin carriage with the wide glen opening in front. + +"Oh, my dear, I hope you will enjoy your visit. We are quite a small +party, for Jack says Glenavelin is far too small to entertain in. You +are fond of the country, aren't you? And of course the place is very +pretty. There is tennis and golf and fishing; but perhaps you don't +like these things? We are not very well off for neighbours, but we are +large enough in number to be sufficient to ourselves. Don't you think +so, Bertha?" And Lady Manorwater smiled at the third member of the +group. + +Miss Afflint, a silent girl, smiled back and said nothing. She had been +engaged in a secret study of Alice's face, and whenever the object of +the study raised her eyes she found a pair of steady blue ones beaming +on her. It was a little disconcerting, and Alice gazed out at the +landscape with a fictitious curiosity. + +They passed out of the Gled valley into the narrower strath of Avelin, +and soon, leaving the meadows behind, went deep into the recesses of +woods. At a narrow glen bridged by the road and bright with the spray +of cascades and the fresh green of ferns, Alice cried out in delight, +"Oh, I must come back here some day and sketch it. What a Paradise of a +place!" + +"Then you had better ask Lewie's permission." And Lady Manorwater +laughed. + +"Who is Lewie?" asked the girl, anticipating some gamekeeper or +shepherd. + +"Lewie is my nephew. He lives at Etterick, up at the head of the glen." + +Miss Afflint spoke for the first time. "A very good man. You should +know Lewie, Miss Wishart. I'm sure you would like him. He is a great +traveller, you know, and has written a famous book. Lewis Haystoun is +his full name." + +"Why, I have read it," cried Alice. "You mean the book about Kashmir. +But I thought the author was an old man." + +"Lewie is not very old," said his aunt; "but I haven't seen him for +years, so he may be decrepit by this time. He is coming home soon, he +says, but he never writes. I know two of his friends who pay a Private +Inquiry Office to send them news of him." + +Alice laughed and became silent. What merry haphazard people were these +she had fallen among! At home everything was docketed and ordered. +Meals were immovable feasts, the hour for bed and the hour for rising +were more regular than the sun's. Her father was full of proverbs on +the virtue of regularity, and was wont to attribute every vice and +misfortune to its absence. And yet here were men and women who got on +very well without it. She did not wholly like it. The little +doctrinaire in her revolted and she was pleased to be censorious. + +"You are a very learned young woman, aren't you?" said Lady Manorwater, +after a short silence. "I have heard wonderful stories about your +learning. Then I hope you will talk to Mr. Stocks, for I am afraid he +is shocked at Bertha's frivolity. He asked her if she was in favour of +the Prisons Regulation Bill, and she was very rude." + +"I only said," broke in Miss Afflint, "that owing to my lack of definite +local knowledge I was not in a position to give an answer commensurate +with the gravity of the subject." She spoke in a perfect imitation of +the tone of a pompous man. + +"Bertha, I do not approve of you," said Lady Manorwater. "I forbid you +to mimic Mr. Stocks. He is very clever, and very much in earnest over +everything. I don't wonder that a butterfly like you should laugh, but +I hope Miss Wishart will be kind to him." + +"I am afraid I am very ignorant," said Alice hastily, "and I am very +useless. I never did any work of any sort in my life, and when I think +of you I am ashamed." + +"Oh, my dear child, please don't think me a paragon," cried her hostess +in horror. "I am a creature of vague enthusiasms and I have the sense +to know it. Sometimes I fancy I am a woman of business, and then I take +up half a dozen things till Jack has to interfere to prevent financial +ruin. I dabble in politics and I dabble in philanthropy; I write review +articles which nobody reads, and I make speeches which are a horror to +myself and a misery to my hearers. Only by the possession of a sense of +humour am I saved from insignificance." + +To Alice the speech was the breaking of idols. Competence, +responsibility were words she had been taught to revere, and to hear +them light-heartedly disavowed seemed an upturning of the foundation of +things. You will perceive that her education had not included that +valuable art, the appreciation of the flippant. + +By this time the carriage was entering the gates of the park, and the +thick wood cleared and revealed long vistas of short hill grass, rising +and falling like moorland, and studded with solitary clumps of firs. +Then a turn in the drive brought them once more into shadow, this time +beneath a heath-clad knoll where beeches and hazels made a pleasant +tangle. All this was new, not three years old; but soon they were in +the ancient part of the policy which had surrounded the old house of +Glenavelin. Here the grass was lusher, the trees antique oaks and +beeches, and grey walls showed the boundary of an old pleasure-ground. +Here in the soft sunlit afternoon sleep hung like a cloud, and the peace +of centuries dwelt in the long avenues and golden pastures. Another +turning and the house came in sight, at first glance a jumble of grey +towers and ivied walls. Wings had been built to the original square +keep, and even now it was not large, a mere moorland dwelling. But the +whitewashed walls, the crow-step gables, and the quaint Scots baronial +turrets gave it a perfection to the eye like a house in a dream. To +Alice, accustomed to the vulgarity of suburban villas with Italian +campaniles, a florid lodge a stone's throw from the house, darkened too +with smoke and tawdry with paint, this old-world dwelling was a patch of +wonderland. Her eyes drank in the beauty of the place--the great blue +backs of hill beyond, the acres of sweet pasture, the primeval woods. + +"Is this Glenavelin?" she cried. "Oh, what a place to live in!" + +"Yes, it's very pretty, dear." And Lady Manorwater, who possessed half a +dozen houses up and down the land, patted her guest's arm and looked +with pleasure on the flushed girlish face. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later, Alice, having completed dressing, leaned out of her +bedroom window to drink in the soft air of evening. She had not brought +a maid, and had refused her hostess's offer to lend her her own on the +ground that maids were a superfluity. It was her desire to be a very +practical young person, a scorner of modes and trivialities, and yet she +had taken unusual care with her toilet this evening, and had spent many +minutes before the glass. Looking at herself carefully, a growing +conviction began to be confirmed--that she was really rather pretty. +She had reddish-brown hair and--a rare conjunction--dark eyes and +eyebrows and a delicate colour. As a small girl she had lamented +bitterly the fate that had not given her the orthodox beauty of the dark +or fair maiden, and in her school days she had passed for plain. Now it +began to dawn on her that she had beauty of a kind--the charm of +strangeness; and her slim strong figure had the grace which a wholesome +life alone can give. She was in high spirits, curious, interested, and +generous. The people amused her, the place was a fairyland and outside +the golden weather lay still and fragrant among the hills. + +When she came down to the drawing-room she found the whole party +assembled. A tall man with a brown beard and a slight stoop ceased to +assault the handle of a firescreen and came over to greet her. He had +only come back half an hour ago, he explained, and so had missed her +arrival. The face attracted and soothed her. Abundant kindness lurked +in the humorous brown eyes, and a queer pucker on the brow gave him the +air of a benevolent despot. If this was Lord Manorwater, she had no +further dread of the great ones of the earth. There were four other +men, two of them mild, spectacled people, who had the air of students +and a precise affected mode of talk, and one a boy cousin of whom no one +took the slightest notice. The fourth was a striking figure, a man of +about forty in appearance, tall and a little stout, with a rugged face +which in some way suggested a picture of a prehistoric animal in an old +natural history she had owned. The high cheek-bones, large nose, and +slightly protruding eyes had an unfinished air about them, as if their +owner had escaped prematurely from a mould. A quantity of bushy black +hair--which he wore longer than most men--enhanced the dramatic air of his +appearance. It was a face full of vigour and a kind of strength, +shrewd, a little coarse, and solemn almost to the farcical. He was +introduced in a rush of words by the hostess, but beyond the fact that +it was a monosyllable, Alice did not catch his name. + +Lord Manorwater took in Miss Afflint, and Alice fell to the dark man +with the monosyllabic name. He had a way of bowing over his hand which +slightly repelled the girl, who had no taste for elaborate manners. His +first question, too, displeased her. He asked her if she was one of the +Wisharts of some unpronounceable place. + +She replied briefly that she did not know. Her grandfathers on both +sides had been farmers. + +The gentleman bowed with the smiling unconcern of one to whom pedigree +is a matter of course. + +"I have heard often of your father," he said. "He is one of the local +supports of the party to which I have the honour to belong. He +represents one great section of our retainers, our host another. I am +glad to see such friendship between the two." And he smiled elaborately +from Alice to Lord Manorwater. + +Alice was uncomfortable. She felt she must be sitting beside some very +great man, and she was tortured by vain efforts to remember the +monosyllable which had stood for his name. She did not like his voice, +and, great man or not, she resented the obvious patronage. He spoke +with a touch of the drawl which is currently supposed to belong only to +the half-educated classes of England. + +She turned to the boy who sat on the other side of her. The young +gentleman--his name was Arthur and, apparently, nothing else--was only +too ready to talk. He proceeded to explain, compendiously, his doings of +the past week, to which the girl listened politely. Then anxiety got +the upper hand, and she asked in a whisper, _a propos_ of nothing in +particular, the name of her left-hand neighbour. + +"They call him Stocks," said the boy, delighted at the tone of +confidence, and was going on to sketch the character of the gentleman in +question when Alice cut him short. + +"Will you take me to fish some day?" she asked. + +"Any day," gasped the hilarious Arthur. "I'm ready, and I'll tell you +what, I know the very burn--" and he babbled on happily till he saw that +Miss Wishart had ceased to listen. It was the first time a pretty girl +had shown herself desirous of his company, and he was intoxicated with +the thought. + +But Alice felt that she was in some way bound to make the most of Mr. +Stocks, and she set herself heroically to the task. She had never heard +of him, but then she was not well versed in the minutiae of things +political, and he clearly was a politician. Doubtless to her father his +name was a household word. So she spoke to him of Glenavelin and its +beauties. + +He asked her if she had seen Royston Castle, the residence of his friend +the Duke of Sanctamund. When he had stayed there he had been much +impressed-- + +Then she spoke wildly of anything, of books and pictures and +people and politics. She found him well-informed, clever, and dogmatic. +The culminating point was reached when she embarked on a stray remark +concerning certain events then happening in India. + +He contradicted her with a lofty politeness. + +She quoted a book on Kashmir. + +He laughed the authority to scorn. "Lewis Haystoun?" he asked. "What +can he know about such things? A wandering dilettante, the worst type +of the pseudo-culture of our universities. He must see all things +through the spectacles of his upbringing." + +Fortunately he spoke in a low voice, but Lord Manorwater caught the +name. + +"You are talking about Lewie," he said; and then to the table at large, +"do you know that Lewie is home? I saw him to-day." + +Bertha Afflint clapped her hands. "Oh, splendid! When is he coming +over? I shall drive to Etterick to-morrow. No--bother! I can't go +to-morrow, I shall go on Wednesday." + +Lady Manorwater opened mild eyes of surprise. "Why didn't the boy +write?" And the young Arthur indulged in sundry exclamations, "Oh, +ripping, I say! What? A clinking good chap, my cousin Lewie!" + +"Who is this Lewis the well-beloved?" said Mr. Stocks. "I was talking +about a very different person--Lewis Haystoun, the author of a foolish +book on Kashmir." + +"Don't you like it?" said Lord Manorwater, pleasantly. "Well, it's the +same man. He is my nephew, Lewie Haystoun. He lives at Etterick, four +miles up the glen. You will see him over here to-morrow or the day +after." + +Mr. Stocks coughed loudly to cover his discomfiture. Alice could not +repress a little smile of triumph, but she was forbearing and for the +rest of dinner exerted herself to appease her adversary, listening to +his talk with an air of deference which he found entrancing. + +Meanwhile it was plain that Lord Manorwater was not quite at ease with +his company. Usually a man of brusque and hearty address, he showed his +discomfort by an air of laborious politeness. He was patronized for a +brief minute by Mr. Stocks, who set him right on some matter of +agricultural reform. Happening to be a specialist on the subject and an +enthusiastic farmer from his earliest days, he took the rebuke with +proper meekness. The spectacled people were talking earnestly with his +wife. Arthur was absorbed in his dinner and furtive glances at his +left-hand neighbour. There remained Bertha Afflint, whom he had +hitherto admired with fear. To talk with her was exhausting to frail +mortality, and he had avoided the pleasure except in moments of +boisterous bodily and mental health. Now she was his one resource, and +the unfortunate man, rashly entering into a contest of wit, found +himself badly worsted by her ready tongue. He declared that she was +worse than her mother, at which the unabashed young woman replied that +the superiority of parents was the last retort of the vanquished. He +registered an inward vow that Miss Afflint should be used on the morrow +as a weapon to quell Mr. Stocks. + +When Alice escaped to the drawing-room she found Bertha and her sister--a +younger and ruddier copy--busy with the letters which had arrived by the +evening post. Lady Manorwater, who reserved her correspondence for the +late hours, seized upon the girl and carried her off to sit by the great +French windows from which lawn and park sloped down to the moorland +loch. She chattered pleasantly about many things, and then innocently +and abruptly asked her if she had not found her companion at table +amusing. + +Alice, unaccustomed to fiction, gave a hesitating "Yes," at which her +hostess looked pleased. "He is very clever, you know," she said, "and +has been very useful to me on many occasions." + +Alice asked his occupation. + +"Oh, he has done many things. He has been very brave and quite the +maker of his own fortunes. He educated himself, and then I think he +edited some Nonconformist paper. Then he went into politics, and became +a Churchman. Some old man took a liking to him and left him his money, +and that was the condition. So I believe he is pretty well off now and +is waiting for a seat. He has been nursing this constituency, and since +the election comes off in a month or two, we asked him down here to +stay. He has also written a lot of things and he is somebody's private +secretary." And Lady Manorwater relapsed into vagueness. + +The girl listened without special interest, save that she modified her +verdict on Mr. Stocks, and allowed, some degree of respect for him to +find place in her heart. The fighter in life always appealed to her, +whatever the result of his struggle. + +Then Lady Manorwater proceeded to hymn his excellences in an +indeterminate, artificial manner, till the men came into the room, and +conversation became general. Lord Manorwater made his way to Alice, +thereby defeating Mr. Stocks, who tended in the same direction. "Come +outside and see things, Miss Wishart," he said. "It's a shame to miss a +Glenavelin evening if it's fine. We must appreciate our rarities." + +And Alice gladly followed him into the still air of dusk which made hill +and tree seem incredibly distant and the far waters of the lake merge +with the moorland in one shimmering golden haze. In the rhododendron +thickets sparse blooms still remained, and all along by the stream-side +stood stately lines of yellow iris above the white water-ranunculus. +The girl was sensitive to moods of season and weather, and she had +almost laughed at the incongruity of the two of them in modern clothes +in this fit setting for an old tale. Dickon of Glenavelin, the sworn +foe of the Lord of Etterick, on such nights as this had ridden up the +water with his bands to affront the quiet moonlight. And now his +descendant was pointing out dim shapes in the park which he said were +prize cattle. + +"Whew! what a weariness is civilization!" said the man, with comical +eyes. "We have been making talk with difficulty all the evening which +serves no purpose in the world. Upon my word, my kyloes have the best +of the bargain. And in a month or so there will be the election and I +shall have to go and rave--there is no other word for it, Miss +Wishart--rave on behalf of some fool or other, and talk Radicalism which +would make your friend Dickon turn in his grave, and be in earnest for +weeks when I know in the bottom of my heart that I am a humbug and care +for none of these things. How lightly politics and such matters sit on +us all!" + +"But you know you are talking nonsense," said the serious Alice. "After +all, these things are the most important, for they mean duty and courage +and--and--all that sort of thing." + +"Right, little woman," said he, smiling; "that is what Stocks tells me +twice a day, but, somehow, reproof comes better from you. Dear me! +it's a sad thing that a middle-aged legislator should be reproved by a +very little girl. Come and see the herons. The young birds will be +everywhere just now." + +For an hour in the moonlight they went a-sightseeing, and came back very +cool and fresh to the open drawing-room window. As they approached they +caught an echo of a loud, bland voice saying, "We must remember our +moral responsibilities, my dear Lady Manorwater. Now, for instance--" + +And a strange thing happened. For the first time in her life Miss Alice +Wishart felt that the use of loud and solemn words could jar upon her +feelings. She set it down resignedly to the evil influence of her +companion. + +In the calm of her bedroom Alice reviewed her recent hours. She +admitted to herself that she would enjoy her visit. A healthy and +active young woman, the mere prospect of an open-air life gave her +pleasure. Also she liked the people. Mentally she epitomized each of +the inmates of the house. Lady Manorwater was all she had pictured +her--a dear, whimsical, untidy creature, with odd shreds of cleverness +and a heart of gold. She liked the boy Arthur, and the spectacled +people seemed harmless. Bertha she was prepared to adore, for behind +the languor and wit she saw a very kindly and capable young woman +fashioned after her own heart. But of all she liked Lord Manorwater +best. She knew that he had a great reputation, that he was said to be +incessantly laborious, and she had expected some one of her father's +type, prim, angular, and elderly. Instead she found a boyish person +whom she could scold, and with women reproof is the first stone in the +foundation of friendship. On Mr. Stocks she generously reserved her +judgment, fearing the fate of the hasty. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +UPLAND WATERS + + +When Alice woke next morning the cool upland air was flooding through +the window, and a great dazzle of sunlight made the world glorious. She +dressed and ran out to the lawn, then past the loch right to the very +edge of the waste country. A high fragrance of heath and bog-myrtle was +in the wind, and the mouth grew cool as after long draughts of spring +water. Mists were crowding in the valleys, each bald mountain top shone +like a jewel, and far aloft in the heavens were the white streamers of +morn. Moorhens were plashing at the loch's edge, and one tall heron +rose from his early meal. The world was astir with life: sounds of the +_plonk-plonk_ of rising trout and the endless twitter of woodland birds +mingled with the far-away barking of dogs and the lowing of the +full-uddered cows in the distant meadows. Abashed and enchanted, the +girl listened. It was an elfin land where the old witch voices of hill +and river were not silenced. With the wind in her hair she climbed the +slope again to the garden ground, where she found a solemn-eyed collie +sniffing the fragrant wind in his morning stroll. + +Breakfast over, the forenoon hung heavy on her hands. It was Lady +Manorwater's custom to let her guests sit idle in the morning and follow +their own desire, but in the afternoon she would plan subtle and +far-reaching schemes of enjoyment. It was a common saying that in her +large good-nature she amused people regardless of their own expense. +She would light-heartedly make town-bred folk walk twenty miles or bear +the toil of infinite drives. But this was after lunch; before, her +guests might do as they pleased. Lord Manorwater went off to see some +tenant; Arthur, after vain efforts to decoy Alice into a fishing +expedition, went down the stream in a canoe, because to his fool's head +it seemed the riskiest means of passing the time at his disposal; Bertha +and her sister were writing letters; the spectacled people had settled +themselves below shady trees with voluminous papers and a pile of books. +Alice alone was idle. She made futile expeditions to the library, and +returned with an armful of volumes which she knew in her heart she would +never open. She found the deepest and most comfortable chair and placed +it in a shady place among beeches. But she could not stay there, and +must needs wander restlessly about the gardens, plucking flowers and +listlessly watching the gardeners at their work. + +Lunch-time found this young woman in a slightly irritable frame of mind. +The cause direct and indirect was Mr. Stocks, who had found her alone, +and had saddled her with his company for the space of an hour and a +half. His vein had been _badinage_ of the serious and reproving kind, and +the girl had been bored to distraction. But a misspent hour is soon +forgotten, and the sight of her hostess's cheery face would have +restored her to good humour had it not been for a thought which could +not be exorcised. She knew of Lady Manorwater's reputation as an +inveterate matchmaker, and in some subtle way the suspicion came to her +that that goddess had marked herself as a quarry. She found herself +next Mr. Stocks at meals, she had already listened to his eulogy from +her hostess's own lips, and to her unquiet fancy it seemed as if the +others stood back that they two might be together. Brought up in an +atmosphere of commerce, she was perfectly aware that she was a desirable +match for an embryo politician, and that sooner or later she would be +mistress of many thousands. The thought was a barbed vexation. To Mr. +Stocks she had been prepared to extend the tolerance of a happy +aloofness; now she found that she was driven to dislike him with all the +bitterness of unwelcome proximity. + +The result of such thoughts was that after lunch she disregarded her +hostess's preparations and set out for a long hill walk. Like all +perfectly healthy people, much exercise was as welcome to her as food +and sleep; ten miles were refreshing; fifteen miles in an afternoon an +exaltation. She reached the moor beyond the policies, and, once past +this rushy wilderness, came to the Avelin-side and a single plank bridge +which she crossed lightly without a tremor. Then came the highway, and +then a long planting of firs, and last of all the dip of a rushing +stream pouring down from the hills in a lonely wooded hollow. The girl +loved to explore, and here was a field ripe for adventure. + +Soon she grew flushed with the toil and the excitement; climbing the bed +of the stream was no child's play, for ugly corners had to be passed, +slippery rocks to be skirted, and many breakneck leaps to be effected. +Her spirits rose as the spray from little falls brushed her face and the +thick screen of the birches caught in her hair. When she reached a +vantage-rock and looked down on the chain of pools and rapids by which +she had come, a cry of delight broke from her lips. This was living, +this was the zest of life! The upland wind cooled her brow; she washed +her hands in a rocky pool and arranged her tangled tresses. What did +she care for Mr. Stocks or any man? He was far down on the lowlands +talking his pompous nonsense; she was on the hills with the sky above +her and the breeze of heaven around her, free, sovereign, the queen of +an airy land. + +With fresh wonder she scrambled on till the trees began to grow sparser +and an upland valley opened in view. Now the burn was quiet, running in +long shining shallows and falling over little rocks into deep brown +pools where the trout darted. On either side rose the gates of the +valley--two craggy knolls each with a few trees on its face. Beyond was +a green lawnlike place with a great confusion of blue mountains hemmed +around its head. Here, if anywhere, primeval peace had found its +dwelling, and Alice, her eyes bright with pleasure, sat on a green +knoll, too rapt with the sight for word or movement. + +Then very slowly, like an epicure lingering at a feast, she walked up +the banks of the burn, now high above a trough of rock, now down in a +green winding hollow. Suddenly she came on the spirits of the place in +the shape of two boys down on their faces groping among the stones of a +pool. + +One was very small and tattered, one about sixteen; both were barefoot +and both were wet and excited. "Tam, ye stot, ye've let the muckle yin +aff again," groaned the smaller. "Oh, be canny, man! If we grip him +it'll be the biggest trout that the laird will have in his basket." The +elder boy, who was bearing the heat and burden of the work, could only +groan "Heather!" at intervals. It seemed to be his one exclamation. + +Now it happened that the two ragamuffins lifted their eyes and saw to +their amazement a girl walking on the bank above them, a girl who smiled +comrade-like on them and seemed in no way surprised. They propped +themselves on their elbows and stared. "Heather!" they ejaculated in +one breath. Then they, too, grinned broadly, for it was impossible to +resist so good-humoured an intruder. She held her head high and walked +like a queen, till a turn of the water hid her. "It's a wumman," gasped +the smaller boy. "And she's terrible bonny," commented the more +critical brother. Then the two fell again to the quest of the great +trout. + +Meanwhile the girl pursued her way till she came to a fall where the +bank needed warier climbing. As she reached the top a little flushed +and panting, she became conscious that the upland valley was not without +inhabitants. For, not six paces off, stood a man's figure, his back +turned towards her, and his mind apparently set on mending a piece of +tackle. + +She stood for a moment hesitating. How could she pass without being +seen? The man was blissfully unconscious of her presence, and as he +worked he whistled Schubert's "Wohin," and whistled it very badly. Then +he fell to apostrophizing his tackle, and then he grew irritable. +"Somebody come and keep this thing taut," he cried. "Tam, Jock! where +on earth are you?" + +The thing in question was lying at Alice's feet in wavy coils. + +"Jock, you fool, where are you?" cried the man, but he never looked +round and went on biting and tying. Then an impulse took the girl and +she picked up the line. "That's right," cried the man, "pull it as +tight as you can," and Alice tugged heroically at the waterproof silk. +She felt horribly nervous, and was conscious that she must look a very +flushed and untidy young barbarian. Many times she wanted to drop it +and run away, but the thought of the menaces against the absent Jock and +of her swift discovery deterred her. When he was done with her help he +might go on working and never look round. Then she would escape +unnoticed down the burn. + +But no such luck befell her. With a satisfied tug he pronounced the +thing finished and wheeled round to regard his associates. "Now, you +young wretches--" and the words froze on his lips, for in the place of +two tatterdemalion boys he saw a young girl holding his line limply and +smiling with much nervousness. + +"Oh," he cried, and then became dumb and confused. He was shy and +unhappy with women, save the few whom he had known from childhood. The +girl was no better. She had blushed deeply, and was now minutely +scanning the stones in the burn. Then she raised her eyes, met his, and +the difficulty was solved by both falling into fits of deep laughter. +She was the first to speak. + +"I am so sorry I surprised you. I did not see you till I was close to +you, and then you were abusing somebody so terribly that to stop such +language I had to stop and help you. I saw Tam and Jock at a pool a +long way down, so they couldn't hear you, you know." + +"And I'm very much obliged to you. You held it far better than Tam or +Jock would have done. But how did you get up here?" + +"I climbed up the burn," said Alice simply, putting up a hand to confine +a wandering tress. The young man saw a small, very simply dressed girl, +with a flushed face and bright, deep eyes. The small white hat crowned +a great tangle of wonderful reddish gold hair. She held herself with +the grace which is born of natural health and no modish training; the +strong hazel stick, the scratched shoes, and the wet fringes of her gown +showed how she had spent the afternoon. The young man, having received +an excellent education, thought of Dryads and Oreads. + +Alice for her part saw a strong, well-knit being, with a brown, +clean-shaven face, a straight nose, and a delicate, humorous mouth. He +had large grey eyes, very keen, quizzical, and kindly. His raiment was +disgraceful--an old knickerbocker suit with a ruinous Norfolk jacket, +patched at the elbows and with leather at wrist and shoulder. +Apparently he scorned the June sun, for he had no cap. His pockets +seemed bursting with tackle, and a discarded basket lay on the ground. +The whole figure pleased her, its rude health, simplicity, and disorder. +The atrocious men who sometimes came to her father's house had been +miracles of neatness, and Mr. Stocks was wont to robe his person in the +most faultless of shooting suits. + +A fugitive memory began to haunt the girl. She had met or heard of this +man before. The valley was divided between Glenavelin and Etterick. He +was not the Doctor, and he was not the minister. Might not he be that +Lewie, the well-beloved, whose praises she had heard consistently sung +since her arrival? It pleased her to think that she had been the first +to meet the redoubtable young man. + +To them there entered the two boys, the younger dangling a fish. "It is +the big trout ye lost," he cried. "We guddled 'um. We wad has gotten +'um afore, but a wumman frichted 'um." Then turning unabashed to Alice, +he said in accusing tones, "That's the wumman!" + +The elder boy gently but firmly performed on his brother the operation +known as "scragging." It was a subdued spirit which emerged from the +fraternal embrace. + +"Pit the fush in the basket, Tam," said he, "and syne gang away wide up +the hill till I cry ye back." The tones implied that his younger brother +was no fit company for two gentlemen and a lady. + +"I won't spoil your fishing," said Alice, fearing fratricidal strife. +"You are fishing up, so I had better go down the burn again." And with a +dignified nod to the others she turned to go. + +Jock sprang forward with a bound and proceeded to stone the small Tam +up the hill. He coursed that young gentleman like a dog, bidding him +"come near," or "gang wide," or "lie down there," to all of which the +culprit, taking the sport in proper spirit, gaily responded. + +"I think you had better not go down the burn," said the man +reflectively. "You should keep the dry hillside. It is safer." + +"Oh, I am not afraid," said the girl, laughing. + +"But then I might want to fish down, and the trout are very shy there," +said he, lying generously. + +"Well, I won't then, but please tell me where Glenavelin is, for the +stream-side is my only direction." + +"You are staying there?" he asked with a pleased face. "We shall meet +again, for I shall be over to-morrow. That fence on the hillside is +their march, and if you follow it you will come to the footbridge on the +Avelin. Many thanks for taking Jock's place and helping me." + +He watched her for a second as she lightly jumped the burn and climbed +the peaty slope. Then he turned to his fishing, and when Alice looked +back from the vantage-ground of the hill shoulder she saw a figure +bending intently below a great pool. She was no coquette, but she could +not repress a tinge of irritation at so callous and self-absorbed a +young man. Another would have been profuse in thanks and would have +accompanied her to point out the road, or in some way or other would +have declared his appreciation of her presence. He might have told her +his name, and then there would have been a pleasant informal +introduction, and they could have talked freely. If he came to +Glenavelin to-morrow, she would have liked to appear as already an +acquaintance of so popular a guest. + +But such thoughts did not long hold their place. She was an honest +young woman, and she readily confessed that fluent manners and the air +of the _cavaliere servente_ were things she did not love. Carelessness +suited well with a frayed jacket and the companionship of a hill burn +and two ragged boys. So, comforting her pride with proverbs, she +returned to Glenavelin to find the place deserted save for dogs, and in +their cheering presence read idly till dinner. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AFTERNOON IN A GARDEN + + +The gardens of Glenavelin have an air of antiquity beyond the dwelling, +for there the modish fashions of another century have been followed with +enthusiasm. There are clipped yews and long arched avenues, bowers and +summer-houses of rustic make, and a terraced lawn fringed with a +Georgian parapet. A former lord had kept peacocks innumerable, and +something of the tradition still survived. Set in the heart of hilly +moorlands, it was like a cameo gem in a tartan plaid, a piece of old +Vauxhall or Ranelagh in an upland vale. Of an afternoon sleep reigned +supreme. The shapely immobile trees, the grey and crumbling stone, the +lone green walks vanishing into a bosky darkness were instinct with the +quiet of ages. It needed but Lady Prue with her flounces and furbelows +and Sir Pertinax with his cane and buckled shoon to re-create the +ancient world before good Queen Anne had gone to her rest. + +In one of the shadiest corners of a great lawn Lady Manorwater sat +making tea. Bertha, with a broad hat shading her eyes, dozed over a +magazine in a deck-chair. That morning she and Alice had broken the +convention of the house and gone riding in the haughlands till lunch. +Now she suffered the penalty and dozed, but her companion was very wide +awake, being a tireless creature who knew not lethargy. Besides, there +was sufficient in prospect to stir her curiosity. Lady Manorwater had +announced some twenty times that day that her nephew Lewis would come to +tea, and Alice, knowing the truth of the prophecy, was prepared to +receive him. + +The image of the forsaken angler remained clear in her memory, and she +confessed to herself that he interested her. The girl had no +connoisseur's eye for character; her interest was the frank and +unabashed interest in a somewhat mysterious figure who was credited by +all his friends with great gifts and a surprising amiability. After +breakfast she had captured one of the spectacled people, whose name was +Hoddam. He was a little shy man, one of the unassuming tribe of +students by whom all the minor intellectual work of the world is done, +and done well. It is a great class, living in the main in red-brick +villas on the outskirts of academic towns, marrying mild blue-stockings, +working incessantly, and finally attaining to the fame of mention in +prefaces and foot-notes, and a short paragraph in the _Times_ at the +last.... Mr. Hoddam did not seek the company of one who was young, +pretty, an heiress, and presumably flippant, but he was flattered when +she plainly sought him. + +"Mr. Lewis Haystoun is coming here this afternoon," she had announced. +"Do you know him?" + +"I have read his book," said her victim. + +"Yes, but did you not know him at Oxford? You were there with him, were +you not?" + +"Yes, we were there together. I knew him by sight, of course, for he +was a very well-known person. But, you see, we belonged to very +different sets." + +"How do you mean?" asked the blunt Alice. + +"Well, you see," began Mr. Hoddam awkwardly--absolute honesty was one +of his characteristics--"he was very well off, and he lived with a +sporting set, and he was very exclusive." + +"But I thought he was clever--I thought he was rather brilliant?" + +"Oh, he was! Indubitably! He got everything he wanted, but then he got +them easily and had a lot of time for other things, whereas most of us +had not a moment to spare. He got the best First of his year and the +St. Chad's Fellowship, but I think he cared far more about winning the +'Varsity Grind. Men who knew him said he was an extremely good fellow, +but he had scores of rich sporting friends, and nobody else ever got to +know him. I have heard him speak often, and his manner gave one the +impression that he was a tremendous swell, you know, and rather +conceited. People used to think him a sort of universal genius who +could do everything. I suppose he was quite the ablest man that had +been there for years, but I should think he would succeed ultimately as +the man of action and not as the scholar." + +"You give him a most unlovely character," said the girl. + +"I don't mean to. I own to being entirely fascinated by him. But he +was never, I think, really popular. He was supposed to be intolerant of +mediocrity; and also he used to offend quite honest, simple-minded +people by treating their beliefs very cavalierly. I used to compare him +with Raleigh or Henri IV.--the proud, confident man of action." + +Alice had pondered over Mr. Hoddam's confessions and was prepared to +receive the visitor with coldness. The vigorous little democrat in her +hated arrogance. Before, if she had asked herself what type on earth +she hated most, she would have decided for the unscrupulous, proud man. +And yet this Lewis must be lovable. That brown face had infinite +attractiveness, and she trusted Lady Manorwater's acuteness and goodness +of heart. + +Lord Manorwater had gone off on some matter of business and taken the +younger Miss Afflint with him. As Alice looked round the little +assembly on the lawn, she felt for the first time the insignificance of +the men. The large Mr. Stocks was not at his best in such +surroundings. He was the typical townsman, and bore with him wherever +he went an atmosphere of urban dust and worry. He hungered for +ostentation, he could only talk well when he felt that he impressed his +hearers; Bertha, who was not easily impressed, he shunned like a plague. +The man, reflected the censorious Alice, had no shades or half-tones in +his character; he was all bald, strong, and crude. Now he was talking +to his hostess with the grace of the wise man unbending. + +"I shall be pleased indeed to meet your nephew," he said. "I feel sure +that we have many interests in common. Do you say he lives near?" + +Lady Manorwater, ever garrulous on family matters, readily enlightened +him. "Etterick is his, and really all the land round here. We simply +live on a patch in the middle of it. The shooting is splendid, and +Lewie is a very keen sportsman. His mother was my husband's sister, and +died when he was born. He is wonderfully unspoiled to have had such a +lonely boyhood." + +"How did the family get the land?" he asked. It was a matter which +interested him, for democratic politician though he was, he looked +always forward to the day when he should own a pleasant country +property, and forget the troubles of life in the Nirvana of the +respectable. + +"Oh, they've had it for ages. They are a very old family, you know, and +look down upon us as parvenus. They have been everything in their +day--soldiers, statesmen, lawyers; and when we were decent merchants in +Abbeykirk three centuries ago, they were busy making history. When you +go to Etterick you must see the pictures. There is a fine one by +Jameson of the Haystoun who fought with Montrose, and Raeburn painted +most of the Haystouns of his time. They were a very handsome race, at +least the men; the women were too florid and buxom for my taste." + +"And this Lewis--is he the only one of the family?" + +"The very last, and of course he does his best to make away with himself +by risking his precious life in Hindu Kush or Tibet or somewhere." Her +ladyship was geographically vague. + +"What a pity he does not realize his responsibilities!" said the +politician. "He might do so much." + +But at the moment it dawned upon the speaker that the shirker of +responsibilities was appearing in person. There strode towards them, +across the lawn, a young man and two dogs. + +"How do you do, Aunt Egeria?" he cried, and he caught her small woman's +hand in a hard brown one and smiled on the little lady. + +Bertha Afflint had flung her magazine to the winds and caught his +available left hand. "Oh, Lewie, you wretch! how glad we are to see +you again." Meantime the dogs performed a solemn minuet around her +ladyship's knees. + +The young man, when he had escaped from the embraces of his friends, +turned to the others. He seemed to recognize two of them, for he shook +hands cordially with the two spectacled people. "Hullo, Hoddam, how are +you? And Imrie! Who would have thought of finding you here?" And he +poured forth a string of kind questions till the two beamed with +pleasure. + +Then Alice heard dimly words of introduction: "Miss Wishart, Mr. +Haystoun," and felt herself bowing automatically. She actually felt +nervous. The disreputable fisher of the day before was in ordinary +riding garments of fair respectability. He recognized her at once, but +he, too, seemed to lose for a moment his flow of greetings. His tone +insensibly changed to a conventional politeness, and he asked her some +of the stereotyped questions with which one greets a stranger. She felt +sharply that she was a stranger to whom the courteous young man assumed +more elaborate manners. The freedom of the day before seemed gone. She +consoled herself with the thought that whereas then she had been warm, +flushed, and untidy, she was now very cool and elegant in her prettiest +frock. + +Then Mr. Stocks arose and explained that he was delighted to meet Mr. +Lewis Haystoun, that he knew of his reputation, and hoped to have some +pleasant talk on matters dear to the heart of both. At which Lewis +shunned the vacant seat between Bertha and that gentleman, and stretched +himself on the lawn beside Alice's chair. A thrill of pleasure entered +the girl's heart, to her own genuine surprise. + +"Are Tam and Jock at peace now?" she asked. + +"Tam and Jock are never at peace. Jock is sedate and grave and old for +his years, while Tam is simply a human collie. He has the same endearing +manners and irresponsible mind. I had to fish him out of several +rock-pools after you left." + +Alice laughed, and Lady Manorwater said in wonder, "I didn't know you +had met Lewie before, Alice." + +"Miss Wishart and I forgathered accidentally at the Midburn yesterday," +said the man. + +"Oh, you went there," cried the aggrieved Arthur, "and you never told +me! Why, it is the best water about here, and yesterday was a +first-rate day. What did you catch, Lewie?" + +"Twelve pounds--about four dozen trout." + +"Listen to that! And to think that that great hulking chap got all the +sport!" And the boy intercepted his cousin's tea by way of retaliation. + +Then Mr. Stocks had his innings, with Lady Manorwater for company, and +Lewis was put through a strict examination on his doings for the past +years. + +"What made you choose that outlandish place, my dear?" asked his aunt. + +"Oh, partly the chance of a shot at big game, partly a restless interest +in frontier politics which now and then seizes me. But really it was +Wratislaw's choice." + +"Do you know Wratislaw?" asked Mr. Stocks abruptly. + +"Tommy?--why, surely! My best of friends. He had got his fellowship +some years before I went up, but I often saw him at Oxford, and he has +helped me innumerable times." The young man spoke eagerly, prepared to +extend warm friendship to any acquaintance of his friend's. + +"He and I have sometimes crossed swords," said Mr. Stocks pompously. + +Lewis nodded, and forbore to ask which had come off the better. + +"He is, of course, very able," said Mr. Stocks, making a generous +admission. + +His hearer wondered why he should be told of a man's ability when he had +spoken of him as his friend. + +"Have you heard much of him lately?" he asked. "We corresponded +regularly when I was abroad, but of course he never would speak about +himself, and I only saw him for a short time last week in London." + +The gentleman addressed waved a deprecating hand. + +"He has had no popular recognition. Such merits as he has are too aloof +to touch the great popular heart. But we who believe in the people and +work for them have found him a bitter enemy. The idle, academic, +superior person, whatever his gifts, is a serious hindrance to honest +work," said the popular idol. + +"I shouldn't call him idle or superior," said Lewis quietly. "I have +seen hard workers, but I have never seen anything like Tommy. He is a +perfect mill-horse, wasting his fine talent on a dreary routine, merely +because he is conscientious and nobody can do it so well." + +He always respected honesty, so he forbore to be irritated with this +assured speaker. + +But Alice interfered to prevent jarring. + +"I read your book, Mr. Haystoun. What a time you must have had! You +say that north of Bardur or some place like that there are two hundred +miles of utterly unknown land till you come to Russian territory. I +should have thought that land important. Why doesn't some one penetrate +it? + +"Well, for various causes. It is very high land and the climate is not +mild. Also, there are abundant savage tribes with a particularly +effective crooked kind of knife. And, finally, our Government +discourages British enterprise there, and Russia would do the same as +soon as she found out." + +"But what a chance for an adventurer!" said Alice, with a face aglow. + +Lewis looked up at the slim figure in the chair above him, and caught +the gleam of dark eyes. + +"Well, some day, Miss Wishart--who knows?" he said slowly and +carelessly. + +But three people looked at him, Bertha, his aunt, and Mr. Stocks, and +three people saw the same thing. His face had closed up like a steel +trap. It was no longer the kindly, humorous face of the sportsman and +good fellow, but the keen, resolute face of the fighter, the schemer, +the man of daring. The lines about his chin and brow seemed to tighten +and strengthen and steel, while the grey eyes had for a moment a glint +of fire. + +Three people never forgot that face. It was a pity that the lady at his +side was prevented from seeing it by her position, for otherwise life +might have gone differently with both. But the things which we call +chance are in the power of the Fateful Goddesses who reserve their right +to juggle with poor humanity. + +Alice only heard the words, but they pleased her. Mr. Stocks fell +farther into the background of disfavour. She had imagination and fire +as well as common sense. It was the purple and fine gold which first +caught her fancy, though on reflection she might decide for the +hodden-grey. So she was very gracious to the young adventurer. And +Arthur's brows grew dark as Erebus. + + * * * * * + +Lewis rode home in the late afternoon to Etterick in a haze of golden +weather with an abstracted air and a slack bridle. A small, dainty +figure tripped through the mazes of his thoughts. This man, usually +oblivious of woman's presence, now mooned like any schoolboy. Those +fresh young eyes and the glory of that hair! And to think that once he +had sworn by black! + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A CONFERENCE OF THE POWERS + + +It was the sultriest of weather in London--days when the city lay in a +fog of heat, when the paving cracked, and the brow was damp from the +slightest movement and the mind of the stranger was tortured by the +thought of airy downs and running rivers. The leaves in the Green Park +were withered and dusty, the window-boxes in Mayfair had a tarnished +look, and horse and man moved with unwilling languor. A tall young man +in a grey frockcoat searched the street for shadow, and finding none +entered the doorway of a club which promised coolness. + +Mr. George Winterham removed his top-hat, had a good wash, and then +sought the smoking room. Seen to better advantage, he was sufficiently +good-looking, with an elegant if somewhat lanky frame, a cheerful +countenance, and a great brown moustache which gave him the air +military. But he was no soldier, being indeed that anomalous creature, +the titular barrister, who shows his profession by rarely entering the +chambers and by an ignorance of law more profound than Necessity's. + +He found the shadiest corner of the smoking room and ordered the coolest +drink he could think of. Then he smiled, for he saw advancing to him +across the room another victim of the weather. This was a small, thin +man, with a finely-shaped dark head and the most perfectly-fitting +clothes. He had been deep in a review, but at the sight of the wearied +giant in the corner he had forgotten his interest in the "Entomology of +the Riviera." He looked something of the artist or the man of letters, +but in truth he had no taint of Bohemianism about him, being a very +respectable person and a rising politician. His name was Arthur +Mordaunt, but because it was the fashion at the time for a certain class +of people to address each other in monosyllables, his friends invariably +knew him as "John." + +He dropped into a chair and regarded his companion with half-closed +eyes. + +"Well, John. Dished, eh? Most infernal heat I ever endured! I can't +stand it, you know. I'll have to go away." + +"Think," said the other, "think that at this moment somewhere in the +country there are great, cool, deep woods and lakes and waterfalls, and +we might be sitting in flannels instead of being clothed in these +garments of sin." + +"Think," said George, "of nothing of the kind. Think of high upland +glens and full brown rivers, and hillsides where there is always wind. +Why do I tantalize myself and talk to a vexatious idiot like you?" + +This young man had a deep voice, a most emphatic manner of speech, and a +trick of cheerfully abusing his friends which they rather liked than +otherwise. + +"And why should I sit opposite six feet of foolishness which can give me +no comfort? Whew! But I think I am getting cool at last. I have sworn +to make use of my first half-hour of reasonable temperature and +consequent clearness of mind to plan flight from this place." + +"May I come with you, my pretty maid? I am hideously sick of July in +town. I know Mabel will never forgive me, but I must risk it." + +Mabel was the young man's sister, and the friendship between the two was +a perpetual joke. As a small girl she had been wont to con eagerly her +brother's cricketing achievements, for George had been a famous +cricketer, and annually went crazy with excitement at the Eton and +Harrow match. She exercised a maternal care over him, and he stood in +wholesome fear of her and ordered his doings more or less at her +judgment. Now she was married, but she still supervised her tall +brother, and the victim made no secret of the yoke. + +Suddenly Arthur jumped to his feet. "I say, what about Lewis Haystoun? +He is home now, somewhere in Scotland. Have you heard a word about +him?" + +"He has never written," groaned George, but he took out a pocket-book +and shook therefrom certain newspaper cuttings. "The people I employ +sent me these about him to-day." And he laid them out on his knee. + +The first of them was long, and consisted of a belated review of Mr. +Haystoun's book. George, who never read such things, handed it to +Arthur, who glanced over the lines and returned it. The second +explained in correct journalese that the Manorwater family had returned +to Glenavelin for the summer and autumn, and that Mr. Lewis Haystoun +was expected at Etterick shortly. The third recorded the opening of a +bazaar in the town of Gledsmuir which Mr. Haystoun had patronised, +"looking," said the fatuous cutting, "very brown and distinguished after +his experiences in the East."--"Whew!" said George. "Poor beggar, to +have such stuff written about him!"--The fourth discussed the possible +retirement of Sir Robert Merkland, the member for Gledsmuir, and his +possible successor. Mr. Haystoun's name was mentioned, "though +indeed," said the wiseacre, "that gentleman has never shown any decided +leanings to practical politics. We understand that the seat will be +contested in the Radical interest by Mr. Albert Stocks, the well-known +writer and lecturer." + +"You know everybody, John. Who's the fellow?" George asked. + +"Oh, a very able man indeed, one of the best speakers we have. I should +like to see a fight between him and Lewie: they would not get on with +each other. This Stocks is a sort of living embodiment of the irritable +Radical conscience, a very good thing in its way, but not quite in +Lewie's style." + +The fifth cutting mentioned the presence of Mr. Haystoun at three +garden-parties, and hinted the possibility of a mistress soon to be at +Etterick. + +George lay back in his chair gasping. "I never thought it would come to +this. I always thought Lewie the least impressionable of men. I wonder +what sort of woman he has fallen in love with. But it may not be true." + +"We'll pray that it isn't true. But I was never quite sure of him. You +know there was always an odd romantic strain in the man. The ordinary +smart, pretty girl, who adorns the end of a dinner-table and makes an +admirable mistress of a house, he would never think twice about. But +for all his sanity Lewie has many cranks, and a woman might get him on +that side." + +"Don't talk of it. I can picture the horrid reality. He will marry +some thin-lipped creature who will back him in all his madness, and his +friends will have to bid him a reluctant farewell. Or, worse still, +there are scores of gushing, sentimental girls who might capture him. I +wish old Wratislaw were here to ask him what he thinks, for he knows +Lewie better than any of us. Is he a member here?" + +"Oh yes, he is a member, but I don't think he comes much. You people +are too frivolous for him." + +"Well, that is all the good done by subscribing to a news-cutting agency +for news of one's friends. I feel as low as ditch water. There is that +idiot who goes off to the ends of the earth for three years, and when he +comes back his friends get no good of him for the confounded women." +George echoed the ancient complaint which is doubtless old as David and +Jonathan. + +Then these two desolated young men, in view of their friend's defection, +were full of sad memories, much as relations after a funeral hymn the +acts of the deceased. + +George lit a cigar and smoked it savagely. "So that is the end of +Lewis! And to think I knew the fool at school and college and couldn't +make a better job of him than this! Do you remember, John, how we used +to call him 'Vaulting Ambition,' because he won the high jump and was a +cocky beggar in general?" + +"And do you remember when he got his First, and they wanted him to stand +for a fellowship, but he was keen to get out of England and travel? Do +you remember that last night at Heston, when he told us all he was going +to do, and took a bet with Wratislaw about it?" + +It is probable that this sad elegy would have continued for hours, had +not a servant approached with letters, which he distributed, two to +Arthur Mordaunt and one to Mr. Winterham. A close observer might have +seen that two of the envelopes were identical. Arthur slipped one into +his pocket, but tore open the other and read. + +"It's from Lewie," he cried. "He wants me down there next week at +Etterick. He says he is all alone and crazy to see old friends again." + +"Mine's the same!" said George, after puzzling out Mr. Haystoun's by no +means legible writing. "I say, John, of course we'll go. It's the very +chance we were wishing for." + +Then he added with a cheerful face, "I begin to think better of human +nature. Here were we abusing the poor man as a defaulter, and ten +minutes after he heaps coals of fire on our heads. There can't be much +truth in what that newspaper says, or he wouldn't want his friends down +to spoil sport." + +"I wonder what he'll be like? Wratislaw saw him in town, but only for a +little, and he notices nothing. He's rather famous now, you know, and +we may expect to find him very dignified and wise. He'll be able to +teach us most things, and we'll have to listen with proper humility." + +"I'll give you fifty to one he's nothing of the kind," said George. "He +has his faults like us all, but they don't run in that line. No, no, +Lewie will be modest enough. He may have the pride of Lucifer at heart, +but he would never show it. His fault is just this infernal modesty, +which makes him shirk fighting some blatant ass or publishing his merits +to the world." + +Arthur looked curiously at his companion. Mr. Winterham was loved of +his friends as the best of good fellows, but to the staid and rising +politician he was not a person for serious talk. Hence, when he found +him saying very plainly what had for long been a suspicion of his own, +he was willing to credit him with a new acuteness. + +"You know I've always backed Lewie to romp home some day," went on the +young man. "He has got it in him to do most things, if he doesn't jib +and bolt altogether." + +"I don't see why you should talk of your friends as if they were +racehorses or prize dogs." + +"Well, there's a lot of truth in the metaphor. You know yourself what a +mess of it he might make. Say some good woman got hold of him--some +good woman, for we will put aside the horrible suggestion of the +adventuress. I suppose he'd be what you call a 'good husband.' He would +become a magistrate and a patron of local agricultural societies and +flower shows. And eveybody would talk about him as a great success in +life; but we--you and I and Tommy--who know him better, would feel that +it was all a ghastly failure." + +Mr. Lewis Haystoun's character erred in its simplicity, for it was at +the mercy of every friend for comment. + +"What makes you dread the women so?" asked Arthur with a smile. + +"I don't dread 'em. They are all that's good, and a great deal better +than most men. But then, you know, if you get a man really first-class +he's so much better than all but the very best women that you've got to +look after him. To ordinary beggars like myself it doesn't matter a +straw, but I won't have Lewie throwing himself away." + +"Then is the ancient race of the Haystouns to disappear from the earth?" + +"Oh, there are women fit for him, sure enough, but you won't find them +at every garden party. Why, to find the proper woman would be the +making of the man, and I should never have another doubt about him. But +I am afraid. He's a deal too kindly and good-natured, and he'd marry a +girl to-morrow merely to please her. And then some day quite casually +he would come across the woman who was meant by Providence for him, and +there would be the devil to pay and the ruin of one good man. I don't +mean that he'd make a fool of himself or anything of that sort, for he's +not a cad; but in the middle of his pleasant domesticity he would get a +glimpse of what he might have been, and those glimpses are not +forgotten." + +"Why, George, you are getting dithyrambic," said Arthur, still smiling, +but with a new vague respect in his heart. + +"For you cannot harness the wind or tie--tie the bonds of the wild ass," +said George, with an air of quotation. "At any rate, we're going to +look after him. He is a good chap and I've got to see him through." + +For Mr. Winterham, who was very much like other men, whose language was +free, and who respected few things indeed in the world, had unfailing +tenderness for two beings--his sister and his friend. + +The two young men rose, yawned, and strolled out into the hall. They +scanned carelessly the telegram boards. Arthur pointed a finger to a +message typed in a corner. + +"That will make a good deal of difference to Wratislaw." + +George read: "The death is announced, at his residence in Hampshire, of +Earl Beauregard. His lordship had reached the age of eighty-five, and +had been long in weak health. He is succeeded by his son the Right Hon. +Lord Malham, the present Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs." + +"It means that if Wratislaw's party get back with a majority after +August, and if Wratislaw gets the under-secretaryship as most people +expect, then, with his chief in the Lords, he will be rather an +important figure in the Commons." + +"And I suppose his work will be pretty lively," said George. He had +been reading some of the other telegrams, which were, as a rule, +hysterical messages by way of foreign capitals, telling of Russian +preparations in the East. + +"Oh, lively, yes. But I've confidence in Tommy. I wish the Fate which +decides men's politics had sent him to our side. He knows more about +the thing than any one else, and he knows his own mind, which is rare +enough. But it's too hot for serious talk. I suppose my seat is safe +enough in August, but I don't relish the prospect of a three weeks' +fight. Wratislaw, lucky man, will not be opposed. I suppose he'll come +up and help Lewis to make hay of Stock's chances. It's a confounded +shame. I shall go and talk for him." + +On the steps of the club both men halted, and looked up and down the +sultry white street. The bills of the evening papers were plastered in +a row on the pavement, and the glaring pink and green still further +increased the dazzle. After the cool darkness within each shaded his +eyes and blinked. + +"This settles it," said George. "I shall wire to Lewie to-night." + +"And I," said the other; "and to-morrow evening we'll be in that cool +green Paradise of a glen. Think of it! Meantime I shall grill through +another evening in the House, and pair." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PASTORAL + + +I + +A July morning had dawned over the Dreichill, and the glen was filled +with sunlight, though as yet there seemed no sun. Behind a peak of hill +it displayed its chastened morning splendours, but a stray affluence of +brightness had sought the nooks of valley in all the wide uplands, +courier of the great lord of heat and light and the brown summer. The +house of Etterick stands high in a crinkle of hill, with a background of +dark pines, and in front a lake, set in shores of rock and heather. +When the world grew bright Lewis awoke, for that strange young man had a +trick of rising early, and as he rubbed sleep from his eyes at the +window he saw the exceeding goodliness of the morning. He roused his +companions with awful threats, and then wandered along a corridor till +he came to a low verandah, whence a little pier ran into a sheltered bay +of the loch. This was his morning bathing-place, and as he ran down the +surface of rough moorland stone he heard steps behind him, and George +plunged into the cold blue waters scarcely a second after his host. + +It was as chill as winter save for the brightness of the morning, which +made the loch in open spaces a shining gold. As they raced each other +to the far end, now in the dark blue of shade, now in the gold of the +open, the hill breeze fanned their hair, and the great woody smell of +pines was sweet around them. The house stood dark and silent, for the +side before them was the men's quarters, and at that season given up to +themselves; but away beyond, the smoke of chimneys curled into the still +air. A man was mowing in some field on the hillside, and the cry of +sheep came from the valley. By and by they reached the shelving coast +of fine hill gravel, and as they turned to swim easily back a sleepy +figure staggered down the pier and stumbled rather than plunged into the +water. + +"Hullo!" gasped George, "there's old John. He'll drown, for I bet you +anything he isn't awake. Look!" + +But in a second a dark head appeared which shook itself vigorously, and +a figure made for the other two with great strokes. He was by so much +the best swimmer of the three that he had soon reached them, and though +in all honesty he first swam to the farther shore, yet he touched the +pier very little behind them. Then came a rush for the house, and in +half an hour three fresh-coloured young men came downstairs, whistling +for breakfast. + +The breakfast-room was a place to refresh a townsman's senses. Long and +cool and dark, it was simply Lewis's room, and he preferred to entertain +his friends there instead of wandering among unused dining-rooms. It +had windows at each end with old-fashioned folding sashes; and the view +on one side was to a great hill shoulder, fir-clad and deep in heather, +and on the other to the glen below and the shining links of the Avelin. +It was panelled in dark oak, and the furniture was a strange medley. +The deep arm-chairs by the fire and the many pipes savoured of the +smoking-room; the guns, rods, polo sticks, whips, which were stacked or +hung everywhere, and the heads of deer on the walls, gave it an +atmosphere of sport. The pictures were few but good--two water-colours, +a small Raeburn above the fireplace, and half a dozen fine etchings. In +a corner were many old school and college groups--the Eton Ramblers, the +O.U.A.C., some dining clubs, and one of Lewis on horseback in racing +costume, looking deeply miserable. Low bookcases of black oak ran round +the walls, and the shelves were crammed with books piled on one another, +many in white vellum bindings, which showed pleasantly against the dark +wood. Flowers were everywhere--common garden flowers of old-fashioned +kinds, for the owner hated exotics, and in a shallow silver bowl in the +midst of the snowy table-cloth was a great mass of purple heather-bells. + +Three very hungry young men sat down to their morning meal with a hearty +goodwill. The host began to rummage among his correspondence, and +finally extracted an unstamped note, which he opened. His face +brightened as he read, and he laid it down with a broad smile and helped +himself to fish. + +"Are you people very particular what you do to-day?" he asked. + +Arthur said, No. George explained that he was in the hands of his +beneficent friend. + +"Because my Aunt Egeria down at Glenavelin has got up some sort of a +picnic on the moors, and she wants us to meet her at the sheepfolds +about twelve." + +"Oh," said George meditatively. "Excellent! I shall be charmed." But +he looked significantly at Arthur, who returned the glance. + +"Who are at Glenavelin?" asked that simple young man with an air of +innocence. + +"There's a man called Stocks, whom you probably know." + +Arthur nodded. + +"And there's Bertha Afflint and her sister." + +It was George's turn to nod approvingly. The sharp-witted Miss Afflint +was a great ally of his. + +"And there's a Miss Wishart--Alice Wishart," said Lewis, without a word +of comment. "And with my Aunt Egeria that will be all." + +The pair got the cue, and resolved to subject the Miss Wishart whose +name came last on their host's tongue to a friendly criticism. +Meanwhile they held their peace on the matter like wise men. + +"What a strange name Egeria is!" said Arthur. "Very," said Lewis; "but +you know the story. My respectable aunt's father had a large family of +girls, and being of a classical turn of mind he called them after the +Muses. The Muses held out for nine, but for the tenth and youngest he +found himself in a difficulty. So he tried another tack and called the +child after the nymph Egeria. It sounds outlandish, but I prefer it to +Terpsichore." + +Thereafter they lit pipes, and, with the gravity which is due to a great +subject, inspected their friend's rods and guns. + +"I see no memorials of your travels, Lewie," said Arthur. "You must +have brought back no end of things, and most people like to stick them +round as a remembrance." + +"I have got a roomful if you want to see them," said the traveller; "but +I don't see the point of spoiling a moorland place with foreign odds and +ends. I like homely and native things about me when I am in Scotland." + +"You're a sentimentalist, old man," said his friend; and George, who +heard only the last word, assumed that Arthur had then and there +divulged his suspicions, and favoured that gentleman with a wild frown +of disapproval. + +As Lewis sat on the edge of the Etterick burn and looked over the +shining spaces of morning, forgetful of his friends, forgetful of his +past, his mind was full of a new turmoil of feeling. Alice Wishart had +begun to claim a surprising portion of his thoughts. He told himself a +thousand times that he was not in love--that he should never be in love, +being destined for other things; that he liked the girl as he liked any +fresh young creature in the morning of life, with youth's beauty and the +grace of innocence. But insensibly his everyday reflections began to be +coloured by her presence. "What would she think of this?" "How that +would please her!" were sentences spoken often by the tongue of his +fancy. He found charm in her presence after his bachelor solitude; her +demure gravity pleased him; but that he should be led bond-slave by +love--that was a matter he valiantly denied. + + +II + +The sheepfolds of Etterick lie in a little fold of glen some two miles +from the dwelling, where the heathy tableland, known all over the glen +as "The Muirs," relieves the monotony of precipitous hills. On this day +it was alert with life. The little paddock was crammed with sheep, and +more stood huddling in the pens. Within was the liveliest scene, for +there a dozen herds sat on clipping-stools each with a struggling ewe +between his knees, and the ground beneath him strewn with creamy folds +of fleece. From a thing like a gallows in a corner huge bags were +suspended which were slowly filling. A cauldron of pitch bubbled over a +fire, and the smoke rose blue in the hot hill air. Every minute a +bashful animal was led to be branded with a great E on the left shoulder +and then with awkward stumbling let loose to join her naked +fellow-sufferers. Dogs slept in the sun and wagged their tails in the +rear of the paddock. Small children sat on gates and lent willing feet +to drive the flocks. In a corner below a little shed was the clippers' +meal of ale and pies, with two glasses of whisky each, laid by under a +white cloth. Meantime from all sides rose the continual crying of +sheep, the intermittent bark of dogs, and the loud broad converse of the +men. + +Lewis and his friends jumped a fence, and were greeted heartily in the +enclosure. He seemed to know each herd by name or rather nickname, for +he had a word for all, and they with all freedom grinned _badinage_ back. + +"Where's my stool, Yed?" he cried. "Am I not to have a hand in clipping +my own sheep?" + +An obedient shepherd rose and fetched one of the triangular seats, while +Lewis with great ease caught the ewe, pulled her on her back, and +proceeded to call for shears. An old pair was found for him, and with +much dexterity he performed the clipping, taking little longer to the +business than the expert herd, and giving the shears a professional wipe +on the sacking with which he had prudently defended his clothes. + +From somewhere in the back two boys came forward--the Tam and Jock of a +former day--eager to claim acquaintance. Jock was clearly busy, for his +jacket was off and a very ragged shirt was rolled about two stout brown +arms. The "human collie" seemed to be a gentleman of some leisure, for +he was arrayed in what was for him the pink of fashion in dress. The +two immediately lay down on the ground beside Lewis exactly in the +manner of faithful dogs. + +The men talked cheerfully, mainly on sheep and prices. Now talk would +touch on neighbours, and there would be the repetition of some tale or +saying. "There was a man in the glen called Rorison. D'ye mind Jock +Rorison, Sandy?" And Sandy would reply, "Fine I mind Jock," and then +both would proceed to confidences. + +"Hullo, Tam," said Lewis at last, realizing his henchman's grandeur. "Why +this magnificence of dress? + +"I'm gaun to the Sabbath-school treat this afternoon," said that worthy. + +"And you, Jock-are you going too?" + +"No me! I'm ower auld, and besides, I've cast out wi' the minister." + +"How was that?" + +"Oh, I had been fechtin'," said Jock airily. "It was Andra Laidlaw. He +called me ill names, so I yokit on him and bate him too, but I got my +face gey sair bashed. The minister met me next day when I was a' blue +and yellow, and, says he, 'John Laverlaw, what have ye been daein'? +Ye're a bonny sicht for Christian een. How do ye think a face like +yours will look between a pair o' wings in the next warld?' I ken I'm no +bonny," added the explanatory Jock; "but ye canna expect a man to thole +siccan language as that." + +Lewis laughed and, being engaged in clipping his third sheep, forgot the +delicacy of his task and let the shears slip. A very ugly little cut on +the animal's neck was the result. + +"Oh, confound it!" cried the penitent amateur. "Look what I've done, +Yed. I'll have to rub in some of that stuff of yours and sew on a +bandage. The files will kill the poor thing if we leave the cut bare in +this infernal heat." + +The old shepherd nodded, and pointed to where the remedies were kept. +Jock went for the box, which contained, besides the ointment, some rolls +of stout linen and a huge needle and twine. Lewis doctored the wound as +best he could, and then proceeded to lay on the cloth and sew it to the +fleece. The ewe grew restless with the heat and the pinching of the +cut, and Jock was given the task of holding her head. + +Clearly Lewis was not meant by Providence for a tailor. He made +lamentable work with the needle. It slipped and pricked his fingers, +while his unfeeling friends jeered and Tam turned great eyes of sympathy +upwards from his Sunday garments. + +"Patience, patience, man!" said the old herd. "Ca' cannier and be a wee +thing quieter in your langwidge. There's a wheen leddies comin' up the +burn." + +It was too late. Before Lewis understood the purport of the speech Lady +Manorwater and her party were at the folds, and as he made one final +effort with the refractory needle a voice in his ear said: + +"Please let me do that, Mr. Haystoun. I've often done it before." + +He looked up and met Alice Wishart's laughing eyes. She stood beside +him and deftly finished the bandage till the ewe was turned off the +stool. Then, very warm and red, he turned to find a cool figure +laughing at his condition. + +"I'll have to go and wash my hands, Miss Wishart," he said gravely. +"You had better come too." And the pair ran down to a deep brown pool in +the burn and cleansed from their fingers the subtle aroma of fleeces. + +"Ugh! my clothes smell like a drover's. That's the worst of being a +dabbler in most trades. You can never resist the temptation to try your +hand." + +"But, really, your whole manner was most professional, Mr. Haystoun. +Your language--" + +"Please, don't," said the penitent; and they returned to the others to +find that once cheerful assembly under a cloud. Every several man there +was nervously afraid of women and worked feverishly as if under some +great Taskmistress's eye. The result was a superfluity of shear-marks +and deep, muffled profanity. Lady Manorwater ran here and there asking +questions and confusing the workers; while Mr. Stocks, in pursuance of +his democratic sentiments, talked in a stilted fashion to the nearest +clipper, who called him "Sir" and seemed vastly ill at ease. + +Lewis restored some cordiality. Under her nephew's influence Lady +Manorwater became natural and pleasing. Jock was ferreted out of some +corner and, together with the reluctant Tam, brought up for +presentation. + +"Tam," said his patron, "I'll give you your choice. Whether will you go +to the Sabbath-school treat, or come with us to a real picnic? Jock is +coming, and I promise you better fun and better things to eat." + +It was no case for hesitation. Tam executed a doglike gambol on the +turf, and proceeded to course up the burn ahead of the party, a vision +of twinkling bare legs and ill-fitting Sunday clothes. The sedate Jock +rolled down his sleeves, rescued a ragged jacket, and stalked in the +rear. + + +III + +Once on the heathy plateau the party scattered. Mr. Stocks caught the +unwilling Arthur and treated him to a disquisition on the +characteristics of the people whose votes he was soon to solicit. As +his acquaintance with the subject was not phenomenal, the profit to the +aggrieved listener was small. George, Lady Manorwater, and the two Miss +Afflints sought diligently for a camping-ground, which they finally +found by a clear spring of water on the skirts of a great grey rock. +Meanwhile, Alice Wishart and Lewis, having an inordinate love of high +places, set out for the ridge summit, and reached it to find a wind +blowing from the far Gled valley and cooling the hot air. + +Alice found a scrap of rock and climbed to the summit, where she sat +like a small pixie, surveying a wide landscape and her warm and +prostrate companion. Her bright hair and eyes and her entrancing grace +of form made the callous Lewis steal many glances upwards from his lowly +seat. The two had become excellent friends, for the man had that honest +simplicity towards women which is the worst basis for love and the best +for friendship. She felt that at any moment he might call her by some +one or other of the endearing expressions used between men. He, for his +part, was fast drifting from friendship to another feeling, but as yet +he gave no sign of it, and kept up the brusque, kindly manners of his +common life. + +As she looked east and north to the heart of the hill-land, her eyes +brightened, and she rose up and strained on tiptoe to scan the farthest +horizon. Eagerly she asked the name of this giant and that, of this +glint of water--was it loch or burn? Lewis answered without hesitation, +as one to whom the country was as well known as his own name. + +By and by her curiosity was satisfied and she slipped back into her old +posture, and with chin on hand gazed into the remote distances. "And +most of that is yours? Do you know, if I had a land like this I should +never leave it again. You, in your ingratitude, will go wandering away +in a year or two, as if any place on earth could be better than this. +You are simply 'sinning away your mercies,' as my grandfather used to +say." + +"But what would become of the heroic virtues that you adore?" asked the +cynical Lewis. "If men were all home-keepers it would be a prosaic +world." + +"Can you talk of the prosaic and Etterick in the same breath? Besides, +it is the old fallacy of man that the domestic excludes the heroic," +said Alice, fighting for the privileges of her sex. + +"But then, you know, there comes a thing they call the go-fever, which +is not amenable to reason. People who have it badly do not care a straw +for a place in itself; all they want is to be eternally moving from one +spot to another." + +"And you?" + +"Oh, I am not a sufferer yet, but I walk in fear, for at any moment it +may beset me." And, laughing, he climbed up beside her. + +It may be true that the last subject of which a man tires is himself, +but Lewis Haystoun in this matter must have been distinct from the +common run of men. Alice had given him excellent opportunities for +egotism, but the blind young man had not taken them. The girl, having +been brought up to a very simple and natural conception of talk, thought +no more about it, except that she would have liked so great a traveller +to speak more generously. No doubt, after all, this reticence was +preferable to self-revelation. Mr. Stocks had been her companion that +morning in the drive to Etterick, and he had entertained her with a +sketch of his future. He had declined, somewhat nervously, to talk of +his early life, though the girl, with her innate love of a fighter, +would have listened with pleasure. But he had sketched his political +creed, hinted at the puissance of his friends, claimed a monopoly of the +purer sentiments of life, and rosily augured the future. The girl had +been silent--the man had thought her deeply impressed; but now the +morning's talk seemed to point a contrast, and Mr. Lewis Haystoun +climbed to a higher niche in the temple of her esteem. + +Afar off the others were signaling that lunch was ready, but the two on +the rock were blind. + +"I think you are right to go away," said Alice. "You would be too well +off here. One would become a very idle sort of being almost at once." + +"And I am glad you agree with me, Miss Wishart. 'Here is the shore, and +the far wide world's before me,' as the song says. There is little +doing in these uplands, but there's a vast deal astir up and down the +earth, and it would be a pity not to have a hand in it." + +Then he stopped suddenly, for at that moment the light and colour went +out of his picture of the wanderer's life, and he saw instead a homelier +scene--a dainty figure moving about the house, sitting at his table's +head, growing old with him in the fellowship of years. For a moment he +felt the charm of the red hearth and the quiet life. Some such sketch +must the Goddess of Home have drawn for Ulysses or the wandering Olaf, +and if Swanhild or the true Penelope were as pretty as this lady of the +rock there was credit in the renunciation. The man forgot the wide +world and thought only of the pin-point of Glenavelin. + +Some such fancy too may have crossed the girl's mind. At any rate she +cast one glance at the abstracted Lewis and welcomed a courier from the +rest of the party. This was no other than the dandified Tam, who had +been sent post-haste by George--that true friend having suffered the +agonies of starvation and a terrible suspicion as to what rash step his +host might be taking. Plainly the young man had not yet made Miss +Wishart's acquaintance. + + +IV + +The sun set in the thick of the dark hills, and a tired and merry party +scrambled down the burnside to the highway. They had long outstayed +their intention, but care sat lightly there, and Lady Manorwater alone +was vexed by thoughts of a dinner untouched and a respectable household +in confusion. The sweet-scented dusk was soothing to the senses, and +there in the narrow glen, with the wide blue strath and the gleam of the +river below, it was hard to find the link of reality and easy to credit +fairyland. Arthur and Miss Wishart had gone on in front and were now +strayed among boulders. She liked this trim and precise young man, +whose courtesy was so grave and elaborate, while he, being a recluse by +nature but a humanitarian by profession, was half nervous and half +entranced in her cheerful society. They talked of nothing, their hearts +being set on the scramble, and when at last they reached the highway and +the farm where the Glenavelin traps had been put up, they found +themselves a clear ten minutes in advance of the others. + +As they sat on the dyke in the soft cool air Alice spoke casually of the +place. "Where is Etterick?" she asked; and a light on a hillside +farther up the glen was pointed out to her. + +"It's a very fresh and pleasant place to stay at," said Arthur. "We're +much higher than you are at Glenavelin, and the house is bigger and +older. But we simply camp in a corner of it. You can never get Lewie +to live like other people. He is the best of men, but his tastes are +primeval. He makes us plunge off a verandah into a loch first thing in +the morning, you know, and I shall certainly drown some day, for I am +never more than half awake, and I always seem to go straight to the +bottom. Then he is crazy about long expeditions, and when the Twelfth +comes we shall never be off the hill. He is a long way too active for +these slack modern days." + +Lewie, Lewie! It was Lewie everywhere! thought the girl. What could +become of a man who was so hedged about by admirers? He had seemed to +court her presence, and her heart had begun to beat faster of late when +she saw his face. She dared not confess to herself that she was in +love--that she wanted this Lewis to herself, and bated the pretensions of +his friends. Instead she flattered herself with a fiction. Her ground +was the high one of an interest in character. She liked the young man +and was sorry to see him in a way to be spoiled by too much admiration. +And the angel who records our innermost thoughts smiled to himself, if +such grave beings can smile. + +Meantime Lewis was delivered bound and captive to the enemy. All down +the burn his companion had been Mr. Stocks, and they had lagged behind +the others. That gentleman had not enjoyed the day; he had been bored +by the landscape and scorched by the sun; also, as the time of contest +approached, he was full of political talk, and he had found no ears to +appreciate it. Now he had seized on Lewis, and the younger man had lent +him polite attention though inwardly full of ravening and bitterness. + +"Your friend Mr. Mordaunt has promised to support my candidature. You, +of course, will be in the opposite camp." + +Lewis said he did not think so--that he had lost interest in party +politics, and would lie low. + +Mr. Stocks bowed in acquiescence. + +"And what do you think of my chances?" + +Lewis replied that he should think about equal betting. "You see the +place is Radical in the main, with the mills at Gledfoot and the weavers +at Gledsmuir. Up in Glenavelin they are more or less Conservative. +Merkland gets in usually by a small majority because he is a local man +and has a good deal of property down the Gled. If two strangers fought +it the Radical would win; as it is it is pretty much of a toss-up either +way." + +"But if Sir Robert resigns?" + +"Oh, that scare has been raised every time by the other party. I should +say that there's no doubt that the old man will keep on for years." + +Mr. Stocks looked relieved. "I heard of his resignation as a +certainty, and I was afraid that a stronger man might take his place." + +So it fell out that the day which began with pastoral closed, like many +another day, with politics. Since Lewis refrained from controversy, Mr. +Stocks seemed to look upon him as a Gallio from whom no danger need be +feared, nay, even as a convert to be fostered. He became confident and +talked jocularly of the tricks of his trade. Lewis's boredom was +complete by the time they reached the farmhouse and found the Glenavelin +party ready to start. + +"We want to see Etterick, so we shall come to lunch to-morrow, Lewie," +said his aunt. "So be prepared, my dear, and be on your best +behaviour." + +Then, with his two friends, he turned towards the lights of his home. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MAKERS OF EMPIRE + + +The day before the events just recorded two men had entered the door of +a certain London club and made their way to a remote little smoking-room +on the first floor. It was not a handsome building, nor had it any +particular outlook or position. It was a small, old-fashioned place in +a side street, in style obviously of last century, and the fittings +within were far from magnificent. Yet no club carried more distinction +in its membership. Its hundred possible inmates were the cream of the +higher professions, the chef and the cellar were things to wonder at, +and the man who could write himself a member of the Rota Club had +obtained one of the rare social honours which men confer on one another. +Thither came all manner of people--the distinguished foreigner travelling +incognito, and eager to talk with some Minister unofficially on matters +of import, the diplomat on a secret errand, the traveller home for a +brief season, the soldier, the thinker, the lawyer. It was a catholic +assembly, but exclusive--very. Each man bore the stamp of competence on +his face, and there was no cheap talk of the "well-informed" variety. +When the members spoke seriously they spoke like experts; otherwise they +were apt to joke very much like schoolboys let loose. The Right Hon. +Mr. M---- was not above twitting Lord S---- with gunroom stories, and +suffering in turn good-natured libel. + +Of the two men lighting their pipes in the little room one was to the +first glance a remarkable figure. About the middle height, with a +square head and magnificent shoulders, he looked from the back not +unlike some professional strong man. But his face betrayed him, for it +was clearly the face of the intellectual worker, the man of character +and mind. His jaw was massive and broad, saved from hardness only by a +quaintly humorous mouth; he had, too, a pair of very sharp blue eyes +looking from under shaggy eyebrows. His age was scarcely beyond thirty, +but one would have put it ten years later, for there were lines on his +brow and threads of grey in his hair. His companion was slim and, to a +hasty glance, insignificant. He wore a peaked grey beard which +lengthened his long, thin face, and he had a nervous trick of drumming +always with his fingers on whatever piece of furniture was near. But if +you looked closer and marked the high brow, the keen eyes, and the very +resolute mouth, the thought of insignificance disappeared. He looked +not unlike a fighting Yankee colonel who had had a Puritan upbringing, +and the impression was aided by his simplicity in dress. He was, in +fact, a very great man, the Foreign Secretary of the time, formerly +known to fame as Lord Malham, and at the moment, by his father's death, +Lord Beauregard, and, for his sins, an exile to the Upper House. His +companion, whose name was Wratislaw, was a younger Member of Parliament +who was credited with peculiar knowledge and insight on the matters +which formed his lordship's province. They were close friends and +allies of some years' standing, and colloquies between the two in this +very place were not unknown to the club annals. + +Lord Beauregard looked at his companion's anxious face. "Do you know +the news?" he said. + +"What news?" asked Wratislaw. "That your family position is changed, or +that the dissolution will be a week earlier, or that Marka is busy +again?" + +"I mean the last. How did you know? Did you see the telegrams?" + +"No, I saw it in the papers." + +"Good Heavens!" said the great man. "Let me see the thing," and he +snatched a newspaper cutting from Wratislaw's hand, returning it the +next moment with a laugh. It ran thus: "Telegrams from the Punjab +declare that an expedition, the personnel of which is not yet revealed, +is about to start for the town of Bardur in N. Kashmir, to penetrate the +wastes beyond the frontier. It is rumoured that the expedition has a +semi-official character." + +"That's our friend," said Wratislaw, putting the paper into his pocket. + +Lord Beauregard wrinkled his brow and stared at the bowl of his pipe. +"I see the motive clearly, but I am hanged if I understand why an +evening paper should print it. Who in this country knows of the +existence of Bardur?" + +"Many people since Haystoun's book," said the other. + +"I have just glanced at it. Is there anything important in it?" + +"Nothing that we did not know before. But things are put in a fresh +light. He covered ground himself of which we had only a second-hand +account." + +"And he talks of this Bardur?" + +"A good deal. He is an expert in his way on the matter and uncommonly +clever. He kept the best things out of the book, and it would be worth +your while meeting him. Do you happen to know him?" + +"No--o," said the great man doubtfully. "Oh, stop a moment. I have +heard my young brother talk of somebody of the same name. Rather a +figure at Oxford, wasn't he?" + +Wratislaw nodded. "But to talk of Marka," he added. + +"His mission is, of course, official, and he has abundant resources." + +"So much I gathered," said Wratislaw. "But his designs? + +"He knows the tribes in the North better than any living man, but +without a base at hand he is comparatively harmless. The devil in the +thing is that we do not know how close that base may be. Fifty thousand +men may be massed within fifty miles, and we are in ignorance." + +"It is the lack of a secret service," said the other. "Had we that, +there are a hundred young men who would have risked their necks there +and kept us abreast of our enemies. As it is, we have to wait till news +comes by some roundabout channel, while that cheerful being, Marka, +keeps the public easy by news of hypothetical private expeditious." + +"And meantime there is that thousand-mile piece of desert of which we +know nothing, and where our friends may be playing pranks as they +please. Well, well, we must wait on developments. It is the last +refuge of the ill-informed. What about the dissolution? You are safe, +I suppose?" + +Wratislaw nodded. + +"I have been asked my forecast fifty times to-day, and I steadily refuse +to speak. But I may as well give it to you. We shall come back with a +majority of from fifty to eighty, and you, my dear fellow, will not be +forgotten." + +"You mean the Under-Secretaryship," said the other. "Well, I don't mind +it." + +"I should think not. Why, you will get that chance your friends have +hoped so long for, and then it is only a matter of time till you climb +the last steps. You are a youngish man for a Minister, for all your +elderly manners." + +Wratislaw smiled the pleased smile of the man who hears kind words from +one whom he admires. "It won't be a bed of roses, you know. I am very +unpopular, and I have the grace to know it." + +The elder man looked on the younger with an air of kindly wisdom. "Your +pride may have a fall, my dear fellow. You are young and confident, I +am old and humble. Some day you will be glad to hope that you are not +without this despised popularity." + +Wratislaw looked grave. "God forbid that I should despise it. When it +comes my way I shall think that my work is done, and rest in peace. But +you and I are not the sort of people who can court it with comfort. We +are old sticks and very full of angles, but it would be a pity to rub +them off if the shape were to be spoiled." + +Lord Beauregard nodded. "Tell me more about your friend Haystoun." + +Wratislaw's face relaxed, and he became communicative. + +"He is a Scots laird, rather well off, and, as I have said, uncommonly +clever. He lives at a place called Etterick in the Gled valley." + +"I saw Merkland to-day, and he spoke his farewell to politics. The +Whips told me about it yesterday." + +"Merkland! But he always raised that scare!" + +"He is serious this time. He has sold his town house." + +"Then that settles it. Lewis shall stand in his place." + +"Good," said the great man. "We want experts. He would strengthen your +feeble hands and confirm your tottering knees, Tommy." + +"If he gets in; but he will have a fight for it. Our dear friend Albert +Stocks has been nursing the seat, and the Manorwaters and scores of +Lewie's friends will help him. That young man has a knack of confining +his affections to members of the opposite party." + +"What was Merkland's majority? Two-fifty or something like that?" + +"There or about. But he was an old and well-liked country laird, +whereas Lewie is a very young gentleman with nothing to his credit +except an Oxford reputation and a book of travels, neither of which will +appeal to the Gledsmuir weavers." + +"But he is popular?" + +"Where he is known--adored. But his name does not carry confidence to +those who do not know the man, for his family were weak-kneed gentry." + +"Yes, I knew his father. Able, but crotchety and impossible! Tommy, +this young man must get the seat, for we cannot afford to throw away a +single chance. You say he knows the place," and he jerked his head to +indicate that East to which his thoughts were ever turning. "Some time +in the next two years there will be the devil's own mess in that happy +land. Then your troubles will begin, my friend, and I can wish nothing +better for you than the support of some man in the Commons who knows +that Bardur is not quite so pastoral as Hampshire. He may relieve you +of some of the popular odium you are courting, and at the worst he can +be sent out." + +Wratislaw whistled long and low. "I think not," he said. "He is too +good to throw away. But he must get in, and as there is nothing in the +world for me to do I shall go up to Etterick tomorrow and talk to him. +He will do as I tell him, and we can put our back into the fight. +Besides, I want to see Stocks again. That man is the joy of my heart!" + +"Lucky beggar!" said the Minister. "Oh, go by all means and enjoy +yourself, while I swelter here for another three weeks over meaningless +telegrams enlivened by the idiot diplomatist. Good-bye and good luck, +and bring the young man to a sense of his own value." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MR. WRATISLAW'S ADVENT + + +As the three men went home in the dusk they talked of the day. Lewis +had been in a bad humour, but the company of his friends exorcised the +imp of irritation, and he felt only the mellow gloom of the evening and +the sweet scents of the moor. In such weather he had a trick of walking +with his head high and his nostrils wide, sniffing the air like the wild +ass of the desert with which the metaphorical George had erstwhile +compared him. That young man meanwhile was occupied with his own +reflections. His good nature had been victimized, he had been made to +fetch and carry continually, and the result was that he had scarcely +spoken a word to Miss Wishart. His plans thus early foiled, nothing +remained but to draw the more fortunate Arthur, so in a conspirator's +aside he asked him his verdict. But Arthur refused to speak. "She is +pretty and clever," he said, "and excellent company." And with this his +lips were sealed, and his thoughts went off on his own concerns. + +Lewis heard and smiled. The sun and wind of the hills beat in his +pulses like wine. To have breathed all day the fragrance of heather and +pines, to have gladdened the eye with an infinite distance and blue +lines of mountain, was with this man to have drunk the cup of +intoxicating youth. The cool gloaming did not chill; rather it was the +high and solemn aftermath of the day's harvesting. The faces of +gracious women seemed blent with the pageant of summer weather; kindly +voices, simple joys--for a moment they seemed to him the major matters in +life. So far it was pleasing fancy, but Alice soon entered to disturb +with the disquieting glory of her hair. The family of the Haystouns had +ever a knack of fine sentiment. Fantastic, unpractical, they were +gluttons for the romantic, the recondite, and the dainty. But now had +come a breath of strong wind which rent the meshes of a philandering +fancy. A very new and strange feeling was beginning to make itself +known. He had come to think of Alice with the hot pained affection +which makes the high mountains of the world sink for the time to a +species of mole-hillock. She danced through his dreams and usurped all +the paths of his ambition. Formerly he had thought of himself--for the +man was given to self-portraiture--as the adventurer, the scorner of the +domestic; now he struggled to regain the old attitude, but he struggled +in vain. The ways were blocked, a slim figure was ever in view, and lo! +when he blotted it from his sight the world was dark and the roads +blind. For a moment he had lost his bearings on the sea of life. As +yet the discomfiture was sweet, his confusion was a joy; and it is the +first trace of weakness which we have seen in the man that he accepted +the unsatisfactory with composure. + +At the door of Etterick it became apparent that something was astir. +Wheel-marks were clear in the gravel, and the ancient butler had an air +of ceremony. "Mr. Wratislaw has arrived, sir," he whispered to Lewis, +whereat that young man's face shone. + +"When? How? Where is he now?" he cried, and with a word to his +companions he had crossed the hall, raced down a lengthy passage, and +flung open the door of his sanctum. There, sure enough, were the broad +shoulders of Wratislaw bending among the books. + +"Lord bless me, Tommy, what extraordinary surprise visit is this? I +thought you would be over your ears in work. We are tremendously +pleased to see you." + +The sharp blue eyes had been scanning the other's frank sunburnt face +with an air of affectionate consideration. "I got off somehow or other, +as I had to see you, old man, so I thought I would try this place first. +What a fortressed wilderness you live in! I got out at Gledsmuir after +travelling some dreary miles in a train which stopped at every farm, and +then I had to wait an hour till the solitary dogcart of the inn +returned. Hullo! you've got other visitors." And he stretched out a +massive hand to Arthur and George. + +The sight of him had lifted a load from these gentlemen's hearts. The +old watchdog had come; the little terriers might now take holiday. The +task of being Lewis's keeper did not by right belong to them; they were +only amateurs acting in the absence of the properly qualified Wratislaw. +Besides, it had been anxious work, for while each had sworn to himself +aforetime to protect his friend from the wiles of Miss Wishart, both +were now devoted slaves drawn at that young woman's chariot wheel. You +will perceive that it is a delicate matter to wage war with a goddess, +and a task unblest of Heaven. + +Supper was brought, and the lamps lit in the cool old room, where, +through the open window, they could still catch the glint of foam on the +stream and the dark gloom of pines on the hill. They fell ravenously on +the meal, for one man had eaten nothing since midday and the others were +fresh from moorland air. Thereafter they pulled armchairs to a window, +and lit the pipes of contentment. Wratislaw stretched his arms on the +sill and looked out into the fragrant darkness. + +"Any news, Tommy?" asked his host. "Things seem lively in the East." + +"Very, but I am ill-informed. Did you lay no private lines of +communication in your travels?" + +"They were too short. I picked up a lot of out-of-the-way hints, but as +I am not a diplomatist I cannot use them. I think I have already made +you a present of most. By the by, I see from the papers that an +official expedition is going north from Bardur. What idiot invented +that?" + +Wratislaw pulled his head in and sat back in his chair. "You are sure +you don't happen to know?" + +"Sure. But it is just the sort of canard which the gentry on the other +side of the frontier would invent to keep things quiet. Who are the +Englishmen at Bardur now?" + +The elder man looked shrewdly at the younger, who was carelessly pulling +a flower to pieces. "There's Logan, whom you know, and Thwaite and +Gribton." + +"Good men all, but slow in the uptake. Logan is a jewel. He gave me +the best three days' shooting I ever dreamed of, and he has more stories +in his head than George. But if matters got into a tangle I would +rather not be in his company. Thwaite is a gentlemanlike sort of +fellow, but dull--very, while Gribton is the ordinary shrewd commercial +man, very cautious and rather timid." + +"Did you ever happen to hear of a man called Marka? He might call +himself Constantine Marka, or Arthur Marker, or the Baron Mark--whatever +happened to suit him." + +Lewis puzzled for a little. "Yes, of course I did. By George! I +should think so. It was a chap of that name who had gone north the week +before I arrived. They said he would never be heard of again. He +seemed a reckless sort of fool." + +"You didn't see him?" + +"No. But why?" + +"Simply that you came within a week of meeting one of the cleverest men +living, a cheerful being whom the Foreign Office is more interested in +than any one else in the world. If you should hear again of Constantine +Marka, Marker, or Mark, please note it down." + +"You mean that he is the author of the _canard_," said Lewis, with sharp +eyes, taking up a newspaper. + +"Yes, and many more. This graceful person will complicate things for +me, for I am to represent the Office in the Commons if we get back with +a decent majority." + +Lewis held out a cordial hand. "I congratulate you, Tommy. Now +beginneth the end, and may I be spared to see!" + +"I hope you may, and it's on this I want to talk to you. Merkland has +resigned; it will be in the papers to-morrow. I got it kept out till I +could see you!" + +"Yes?" said Lewis, with quickening interest. + +"And we want you to take his place. I spoke to him, and he is +enthusiastic on the matter. I wired to the Conservative Club at +Gledsmuir, and it seems you are their most cherished possibility. The +leaders of the party are more than willing, so it only remains for you +to consent, my dear boy." + +"I--don't--think--I--can," said the possibility slowly. "You see, only +to-day I told that man Stocks that Merkland would not resign, and that I +was sick of party politics and would not interfere with his chances. +The poor beggar is desperately keen, and if I stood now he would think +me disingenuous." + +"But there is no reason why he should not know the truth. You can tell +him that you only heard about Merkland to-night, and that you act only +in deference to strong external pressure." + +"In that case he would think me a fool. I have a bad enough reputation +for lack of seriousness in these matters already. The man is not very +particular, and there is nothing to hinder him from blazoning it up and +down the place that I changed my mind in ten minutes on a friend's +recommendation. I should get a very complete licking." + +"Do you mind, Lewie, if I advise you to take it seriously? It is really +not a case for little scruples about reputation. There are rocks ahead +of me, and I want a man like you in the House more than I could make you +understand. You say you hate party politics, and I am with you, but +there is no reason why you should not use them as a crutch to better +work. You are in your way an expert, and that is what we will need +above all things in the next few years. Of course, if you feel yourself +bound by a promise not to oppose Stocks, then I have nothing more to +say; but, unless the man is a lunatic, he will admit the justice of your +case." + +"You mean that you really want me, Tommy?" said the young man, in great +doubt. "I hate the idea of fighting Stocks, and I shall most certainly +be beaten." + +"That is on the knees of the gods, and as for the rest I take the +responsibility. I shall speak to Stocks myself. It will be a sharp +fight, but I see no reason why you should not win. After all, it is +your own countryside, and you are a better man than your opponent." + +"You are the serpent who has broken up this peaceful home. I shall be +miserable for a month, and the house will be divided against itself. +Arthur has promised to help Stocks, while the Manorwaters, root and +branch, are pledged to support him." + +"I'll do my best, Lewie, for old acquaintance' sake. It had to come +sooner or later, you know, and it is as well that you should seize the +favourable moment. Now let us drop the subject for to-night. I want to +enjoy myself." + +And he rose, stretched his great arms, and wandered about the room. + +To all appearance he had forgotten the very existence of things +political. Arthur, who had a contest to face shortly, was eager for +advice and the odds and ends of information which defend the joints in a +candidate's harness, but the well-informed man disdained to help. He +tested the guns, gave his verdict on rods, and ranged through a cabinet +of sporting requisites. Then he fell on his host's books, and for an +hour the three were content to listen to him. It was rarely that +Wratislaw fell into such moods, but when the chance came it was not to +be lightly disregarded. A laborious youth had given him great stores of +scholarship, and Lewis's books were a curious if chaotic collection. On +the fly-leaf of a little duodecimo was an inscription from the author of +Waverley, who had often made Etterick his hunting-ground. A Dunbar had +Hawthornden's autograph, and a set of tall classic folios bore the +handwriting of George Buchanan. Lord Kames, Hume, and a score of others +had dedicated works to lairds of Etterick, and the Haystouns themselves +had deigned at times to court the Muse. Lewis's own special +books--college prizes, a few modern authors, some well-thumbed poets, and +a row in half a dozen languages on some matters of diplomatic +interest--were crowded into a little oak bookcase which had once graced +his college rooms. Thither Wratislaw ultimately turned, dipping, +browsing, reading a score of lines. + +"What a nice taste you have in arrangement!" he cried. "Scott, Tolstoi, +Meredith, an odd volume of a Saga library, an odd volume of the _Corpus +Boreale_, some Irish reprints, Stevenson's poems, Virgil and the +_Pilgrim's Progress_, and a French Gazetteer of Mountains wedged above +them. And then an odd Badminton volume, French _Memoires_, a Dante, a +Homer, and a badly printed German text of Schopenhauer! Three different +copies of Rabelais, a De Thou, a Horace, and-bless my soul!--about +twenty books of fairy tales! Lewie, you must have a mind like a +lumber-room." + +"I pillaged books from the big library as I wanted them," said the young +man humbly. "Do you know, Tommy, to talk quite seriously, I get more +erratic every day? Knocking about the world and living alone make me a +queer slave of whims. I am straying too far from the normal. I wish to +goodness you would take me and drive me back to the ways of common +sense." + +"Meaning--? + +"That I am getting cranky and diffident. I am beginning to get nervous +about people's opinion and sensitive to my own eccentricity. It is a +sad case for a man who never used to care a straw for a soul on earth." + +"Lewie, attend to me," said Wratislaw, with mock gravity. "You have not +by any chance been falling in love?" + +The accused blushed like a girl, and lied withal like a trooper, to the +delight of the un-Christian George. + +"Well, then, my dear fellow, there is hope for you yet. If a man once +gets sentimental, he desires to be normal above all things, for he has a +crazy intuition that it is the normal which women really like, being +themselves but a hair's-breadth from the commonplace. I suppose it is +only another of the immortal errors with which mankind hedges itself +about." + +"You think it an error?" said Lewis, with such an air of relief that +George began to laugh and Wratislaw looked comically suspicious. + +"Why the tone of joy, Lewie?" + +"I wanted your opinion," said the perjured young man. "I thought of +writing a book. But that is not the thing I was talking about. I want +to be normal, aggressively normal, to court the suffrages of Gledsmuir. +Do you know Stocks?" + +"Surely." + +"An excellent person, but I never heard him utter a word above a child's +capacity. He can talk the most shrieking platitudes as if he had found +at last the one and only truth. And people are impressed." + +Wratislaw pulled down his eyebrows and proceeded to defend a Scottish +constituency against the libel of gullibility. But Lewis was not +listening. He did not think of the impression made on the voting +powers, but on one small girl who clamorously impeded all his thoughts. +She was, he knew, an enthusiast for the finer sentiments of life, and of +these Mr. Stocks had long ago claimed a monopoly. He felt bitterly +jealous--the jealousy of the innocent man to whom woman is an +unaccountable creature, whose habits and likings must be curiously +studied. He was dimly conscious of lacking the stage attributes of a +lover. He could not pose as a mirror of all virtues, a fanatic for the +True and the Good. Somehow or other he had acquired an air of +self-seeking egotism, unscrupulousness, which he felt miserably must +make him unlovely in certain eyes. Nor would the contest he was +entering upon improve this fancied reputation of his. He would have to +say hard, unfeeling things against what all the world would applaud as +generous sentiment. + +When the others had gone yawning to bed, he returned and sat at the +window for a little, smoking hard and puzzling out the knots which +confronted him. He had a dismal anticipation of failure. Not +defeat--that was a little matter; but an abject show of incompetence. +His feelings pulled him hither and thither. He could not utter moral +platitudes to checkmate his opponent's rhetoric, for, after all, he was +honest; nor could he fill the part of the cold critic of hazy sentiment; +gladly though he would have done it, he feared the reproach in girlish +eyes. This good man was on the horns of a dilemma. Love and habit, a +generous passion and a keen intellect dragged him alternately to their +side, and as a second sign of weakness the unwilling scribe has to +record that his conclusion as he went to bed was to let things drift--to +take his chance. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE EPISODES OF A DAY + + +It is painful to record it, but when the Glenavelin party arrived at +noon of the next day it was only to find the house deserted. Lady +Manorwater, accustomed to the vagaries of her nephew, led the guests +over the place and found to her horror that it seemed undwelt in. The +hall was in order, and the tart and rosy lairds of Etterick looked down +from their Raeburn canvases on certain signs of habitation; but the +drawing-rooms were dingy with coverings and all the large rooms were in +the same tidy disarray. Then, wise from experience, she led the way to +Lewis's sanctum, and found there a pretty luncheon-table and every token +of men's presence. Soon the four tenants arrived, hot and breathless, +from the hill, to find Bertha Afflint deep in rods and guns, Miss +Wishart and Lady Manorwater ensconced in the great armchairs, and Mr. +Stocks casting a critic's eye over the unruly bookshelves. + +Wratislaw's presence at first cast a certain awe on the assembly. His +name was so painfully familiar, so consistently abused, that it was hard +to refrain from curiosity. Lady Manorwater, an ancient ally, greeted +him effusively, and Alice cast shy glances at this strong man with the +kind smile and awkward manners. The truth is that Wratislaw was acutely +nervous. With Mr. Stocks alone was he at his ease. He shook his hand +heartily, declared himself delighted to meet him again, and looked with +such manifest favour on this opponent that the gentleman was cast into +confusion. + +"I must talk shop," cried Lady Manorwater when they were seated at +table. "Lewie, have you heard the news that poor Sir Robert has +retired? What a treasure of a cook you have, sir! The poor man is +going to travel, as his health is bad; he wrote me this morning. Now +who is to take his place? And I wish you'd get me the recipe for this +tomato soup." + +Lewis unravelled the tangled skein of his aunt's questions. + +"I heard about Merkland last night from Wratislaw. I think, perhaps, I +had better make a confession to everybody. I never intended to bother +with party politics, at least not for a good many years, but some people +want me to stand, so I have agreed. You will have a very weak opponent, +Stocks, so I hope you will pardon my impertinence in trying the thing." + +The candidate turned a little pale, but he smiled gallantly. + +"I shall be glad to have so distinguished an opponent. But I thought +that yesterday you would never have dreamed of the thing." + +"No more I should; but Wratislaw talked to me seriously and I was +persuaded." + +Wratislaw tried to look guileless, failed signally, and detected a +sudden unfavourable glance from Mr. Stocks in his direction. + +"We must manage everything as pleasantly as possible. You have my aunt +and my uncle and Arthur on your side, while I have George, who doesn't +count in this show, and I hope Wratislaw. I'll give you a three days' +start if you like in lieu of notice." And the young man laughed as if +the matter were the simplest of jokes. + +The laugh jarred very seriously on one listener. To Alice the morning +had been full of vexations, for Mr. Stocks had again sought her +company, and wearied her with a new manner of would-be gallantry which +sat ill upon him. She had come to Etterick with a tenderness towards +Lewis which was somewhat dispelled by his newly-disclosed political +aims. It meant that the Glenavelin household, including herself, would +be in a different camp for three dreary weeks, and that Mr. Stocks +would claim more of her society than ever. With feminine inconsistency +she visited her repugnance towards that gentleman on his innocent rival. +But Mr. Lewis Haystoun's light-hearted manner of regarding the business +struck the little Puritan deeper. Politics had always been a thing of +the gravest import in her eyes, bound up with a man's duty and honour +and religion, and lo! here was this Gallio who not only adorned a party +she had been led to regard as reprobate, but treated the whole affair as +a half-jocular business, on which one should not be serious. It was +sheer weakness, her heart cried out, the weakness of the philanderer, +the half-hearted. In her vexation her interest flew in sympathy to Mr. +Stocks, and she viewed him for the occasion with favour. + +"You are far too frivolous about it," she cried. "How can you fight if +you are not in earnest, and how can you speak things you only half +believe? I hate to think of men playing at politics." And she had set +her little white teeth, and sat flushed and diffident, a Muse of +Protest. + +Lewis flushed in turn. He recognized with pain the fulfilment of his +fears. He saw dismally how during the coming fight he would sink daily +in the estimation of this small critic, while his opponent would as +conspicuously rise. The prospect did not soothe him, and he turned to +Bertha Afflint, who was watching the scene with curious eyes. + +"It's very sad, Lewie," she said, "but you'll get no canvassers from +Glenavelin. We have all been pledged to Mr. Stocks for the last week. +Alice is a keen politician, and, I believe, has permanently unsettled +Lord Manorwater's easy-going Liberalism. She believes in action; +whereas, you know, he does not." + +"We all believe in action nowadays," said Wratislaw. "I could wish at +times for the revival of 'leisureliness' as a party catch-word." + +And then there ensued a passage of light arms between the great man and +Bertha which did not soothe Alice's vexation. She ignored the amiable +George, seeing in him another of the half-hearted, and in a fine heat of +virtue devoted herself to Mr. Stocks. That gentleman had been +melancholy, but the favour of Miss Wishart made him relax his heavy +brows and become communicative. He was flattered by her interest. She +heard his reminiscences with a smile and his judgments with attention. +Soon the whole table talked merrily, and two people alone were aware +that breaches yawned under the unanimity. + +Archness was not in Alice's nature, and still less was coquetry. When +Lewis after lunch begged to be allowed to show her his dwelling she did +not blush and simper, she showed no pretty reluctance, no graceful +displeasure. She thanked him, but coldly, and the two climbed the ridge +above the lake, whence the whole glen may be seen winding beneath. It +was still, hot July weather, and the far hills seemed to blink and +shimmer in the haze; but at their feet was always coolness in the blue +depth of the loch, the heath-fringed shores, the dark pines, and the +cold whinstone crags. + +"You don't relish the prospect of the next month?" she asked. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "After all, it is only a month, and it will +all be over before the shooting begins." + +"I cannot understand you," she cried suddenly and impatiently. "People +call you ambitious, and yet you have to be driven by force to the +simplest move in the game, and all the while you are thinking and +talking as if a day's sport were of far greater importance." + +"And it really vexes you--Alice?" he said, with penitent eyes. + +She drew swiftly away and turned her face, so that the man might not see +the vexation and joy struggling for mastery. + +"Of course it is none of my business, but surely it is a pity." And the +little doctrinaire walked with head erect to the edge of the slope and +studied intently the distant hills. + +The man was half amused, half pained, but his evil star was in the +ascendant. Had he known it, he would have been plain and natural, for +at no time had the girl ever been so near to him. Instead, he made some +laughing remark, which sounded harshly flippant in her ears. She looked +at him reproachfully; it was cruel to treat her seriousness with scorn; +and then, seeing Lady Manorwater and the others on the lawn below, she +asked him with studied carelessness to take her back. Lewis obeyed +meekly, cursing in his heart his unhappy trick of an easy humour. If +his virtues were to go far to rob him of what he most cared for, it +looked black indeed for the unfortunate young man. + +Meantime Wratislaw and Mr. Stocks had drawn together by the attraction +of opposites. A change had come over the latter, and momentarily +eclipsed his dignity. For the man was not without tact, and he felt +that the attitude of high-priest of all the virtues would not suit in +the presence of one whose favourite task it was to laugh his so-called +virtues to scorn. Such, at least to begin with, was his honourable +intention. But the subtle Wratislaw drew him from his retirement and +skilfully elicited his coy principles. It was a cruel performance--a +shameless one, had there been any spectator. The one would lay down a +fine generous line of policy; the other would beg for a fact in +confirmation. The one would haltingly detail some facts; the other +would promptly convince him of their falsity. Eventually the victim +grew angry and a little frightened. The real Mr. Stocks was a man of +business, not above making a deal with an opponent; and for a little the +real Mr. Stocks emerged from his shell. + +"You won't speak much in the coming fight, will you? You see, you are +rather heavy metal for a beginner like myself," he said, with commercial +frankness. + +"No, my dear Stocks, to set your mind at rest, I won't. Lewis wants to +be knocked about a little, and he wants the fight to brace him. I'll +leave him to fight his own battles, and wish good luck to the better +man. Also, I won't come to your meetings and ask awkward questions." + +Mr. Stocks bore malice only to his inferiors, and respected his betters +when he was not on a platform. He thanked Wratislaw with great +heartiness, and when Lady Manorwater found the two they were beaming on +each other like the most ancient friends. + +"Has anybody seen Lewie?" she was asking. "He is the most scandalous +host in the world. We can't find boats or canoes and we can't find him. +Oh, here is the truant!" And the renegade host was seen in the wake of +Alice descending from the ridge. + +Something in the attitude of the two struck the lady with suspicion. +Was it possible that she had been blind, and that her nephew was about +to confuse her cherished schemes? This innocent woman, who went through +the world as not being of it, had fancied that already Alice had fallen +in with her plans. She had seemed to court Mr. Stocks's company, while +he most certainly sought eagerly for hers. But Lewis, if he entered the +lists, would be a perplexing combatant, and Lady Manorwater called her +gods to witness that it should not be. Many motives decided her against +it. She hated that a scheme of her own once made should be checkmated, +though it were by her dearest friend. More than all, her pride was in +arms. Lewis was a dazzling figure; he should make a great match; money +and pretty looks and parvenu blood were not enough for his high +mightiness. + +So it came about that, when they had explored the house, circumnavigated +the loch, and had tea on a lawn of heather, she informed her party that +she must get out at Haystounslacks, for she wished to see the farmer, +and asked Bertha to keep her company. The young woman agreed readily, +with the result that Alice and Mr. Stocks were left sole occupants of +the carriage for the better half of the way. The man was only too +willing to seize the chance thus divinely given him. His irritation at +Lewis's projects had been tempered by Alice's kindness at lunch and +Wratislaw's unlooked-for complaisance. Things looked rosy for him; far +off, as on the horizon of his hopes, he saw a seat in Parliament and a +fair and amply dowered wife. + +But Miss Wishart was scarcely in so pleasant a humour. With Lewis she +was undeniably cross, but of Mr. Stocks she was radically intolerant. +A moment of pique might send her to his side, but the position was +unnatural and could not be maintained. Even now Lewis was in her +thoughts. Fragments of his odd romantic speech clove to her memory. +His figure--for he showed to perfection in his own surroundings--was so +comely and gallant, so bright with the glamour of adventurous youth, +that for a moment this prosaic young woman was a convert to the coloured +side of life and had forgotten her austere creed. + +Mr. Stocks went about his duty with praise-worthy thoroughness. For +the fiftieth time in a week he detailed to her his prospects. When he +had raised a cloud-built castle of fine hopes, when he had with manly +simplicity repeated his confession of faith, he felt that the crucial +moment had arrived. Now, when she looked down the same avenue of +prospect as himself, he could gracefully ask her to adorn the fair scene +with her presence. + +"Alice," he said, and at the sound of her name the girl started from a +reverie in which Lewis was not absent, and looked vacantly in his face. + +He took it for maidenly modesty. + +"I have wanted to speak to you for long, Alice. We have seen a good +deal of each other lately, and I have come to be very fond of you. I +trust you may have some liking for me, for I want you to promise to be +my wife." + +He told his love in regular sentences. Unconsciously he had fallen into +the soft patronizing tone in which aforetime he had shepherded a Sunday +school. + +The girl looked at the large sentimental face and laughed. She felt +ashamed of her rudeness even in the act. + +He caught her hands, and before she knew his face was close to hers. +"Promise me, dear," he said. "We have everything in common. Your +father will be delighted, and we will work together for the good of the +people. You are not meant to be a casual idler like the people at +Etterick. You and I are working man and woman." + +It was her turn to flush in downright earnest. The man's hot face +sickened her. What were these wild words he was speaking? She dimly +caught their purport, heard the mention of Etterick, saw once again +Lewis with his quick, kindly eyes, and turned coldly to the lover. + +"It is quite out of the question, Mr. Stocks," she said calmly. "Of +course I am obliged to you for the honour you have done me, but the +thing is impossible." + +"Who is it?" he cried, with angry eyes. "Is it Lewis Haystoun?" + +The girl looked quickly at him, and he was silent, abashed. Strangely +enough, at that moment she liked him better than ever before. She +forgave him his rudeness and folly, his tactless speech and his comical +face. He was in love with her, he offered her what he most valued, his +political chances and his code of fine sentiments; it was not his blame +if she found both little better than husks. + +Her attention flew for a moment to the place she had left, only to +return to a dismal reflection. Was she not, after all, in the same +galley as her rejected suitor? What place had she in the frank +good-fellowship of Etterick, or what part had they in the inheritance of +herself and her kind? Had not Mr. Stocks--now sitting glumly by her +side--spoken the truth? We are only what we are made, and generations +of thrift and seriousness had given her a love for the strenuous and the +unadorned which could never be cast out. Here was a quandary--for at +the same instant there came the voice of the heart defiantly calling her +to the breaking of idols. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +HOME TRUTHS + + +I + +It is told by a great writer in his generous English that when the +followers of Diabolus were arraigned before the Recorder and Mayor of +regenerate Mansoul, a certain Mr. Haughty carried himself well to the +last. "He declared," says Bunyan, "that he had carried himself bravely, +not considering who was his foe or what was the cause in which he was +engaged. It was enough for him if he fought like a man and came off +victorious." Nevertheless, we are told, he suffered the common doom, +being crucified next day at the place of execution. It is the old fate +of the freelance, the Hal o' the Wynd who fights for his own hand; for +in life's contest the taking of sides is assumed to be a necessity. + +Such was Lewis's reflections when he found Wratislaw waiting for him in +the Etterick dogcart when he emerged from a meeting in Gledsmuir. He +had now enjoyed ten days of it, and he was heartily tired. His throat +was sore with much speaking, his mind was barren with thinking on the +unthinkable, and his spirits were dashed with a bitter sense of +futility. He had honestly done his best. So far his conscience was +clear; but as he reviewed the past in detail, his best seemed a very +shoddy compromise. It was comfort to see the rugged face of Wratislaw +again, though his greeting was tempered by mistrust. The great man had +refused to speak for him and left him to fight his own battles; +moreover, he feared the judgment of the old warrior on his conduct of +the fight. He was acutely conscious of the joints in his armour, but he +had hoped to have decently cloaked them from others. When he heard the +first words, "Well, Lewie, my son, you have been making a mess of it," +his heart sank. + +"I am sorry," he said. "But how?" + +"How? Why, my dear chap, you have no grip. You have let the thing get +out of hand. I heard your speech to-night. It was excellent, very +clever, a beautiful piece of work, but worse than useless for your +purpose. You forget the sort of man you are fighting. Oh, I have been +following the business carefully, and I felt bound to come down to keep +you in order. To begin with, you have left your own supporters in the +place in a nice state of doubt." + +"How?" + +"Why, because you have given them nothing to catch hold of. They +expected the ordinary Conservative confession of faith--a rosy sketch of +foreign affairs, and a little gentle Socialism, and the old rhetoric +about Church and State. Instead, they are put off with epigrams and +excellent stories, and a few speculations as to the metaphysical basis +of politics. Believe me, Lewie, it is only the very general liking for +your unworthy self which keeps them from going over in a body to +Stocks." And Wratislaw lit a cigar and puffed furiously. + +"Then you would have me deliver the usual insincere platitudes?" said +Lewis dismally. + +"I would have you do nothing of the kind. I thought you understood my +point of view. A man like Stocks speaks his platitudes with vehemence +because he believes in them whole-heartedly. You have also your +platitudes to get through with, not because you would stake your soul on +your belief in them, but because they are as near as possible the +inaccurate popular statement of your views, which is all that your +constituents would understand, and you pander to the popular craving +because it is honest enough in itself and is for you the stepping-stone +to worthier work." + +Lewis shook his head dismally. + +"I haven't the knack of it. I seem to stand beside myself and jeer all +the while. Besides, it would be opposing complete sincerity with a very +shady substitute. That man Stocks is at least an honest fool. I met +him the other day after he had been talking some atrocious nonsense. I +asked him as a joke how he could be such a humbug, and he told me quite +honestly that he believed every word; so, of course, I apologized. He +was attacking you people on your foreign policy, and he pulled out a New +Testament and said, 'What do I read here?' It went down with many +people, but the thing took away my breath." + +His companion looked perplexedly at the speaker. "You have had the +wrong kind of education, Lewie. You have always been the spoiled child, +and easily and half-unconsciously you have mastered things which the +self-made man has to struggle towards with a painful conscious effort. +The result is that you are a highly cultured man without any crudeness +or hysteria, while the other people see things in the wrong perspective +and run their heads against walls and make themselves miserable. You +gain a lot, but you miss one thing. You know nothing of the heart of +the crowd. Oh, I don't mean the people about Etterick. They are your +own folk, and the whole air of the place is semi-feudal. But the +weavers and artisans of the towns and the ordinary farm workers--what do +you know of them? Your precious theories are so much wind in their +ears. They want the practical, the blatantly obvious, spiced with a +little emotion. Stocks knows their demands. He began among them, and +at present he is but one remove from them. A garbled quotation from the +Scriptures or an appeal to their domestic affections is the very thing +required. Moreover, the man understands an audience. He can bully it, +you know; put on airs of sham independence to cover his real obeisance; +while you are polite and deferent to hide your very obvious scorn." + +"Do you know, Tommy, I'm a coward," Lewis broke in. "I can't face the +people. When I see a crowd of upturned faces, crass, ignorant, +unwholesome many of them, I begin to despair. I cannot begin to explain +things from the beginning; besides, they would not understand me if I +did. I feel I have nothing in common with them. They lead, most of +them, unhealthy indoor lives, their minds are half-baked, and their +bodies half-developed. I feel a terrible pity, but all the same I +cannot touch them. And then I become a coward and dare not face them +and talk straight as man to man. I repeat my platitudes to the ceiling, +and they go away thinking, and thinking rightly, that I am a fool." + +Wratislaw looked worried. "That is one of my complaints. The other is +that on certain occasions you cannot hold yourself in check. Do you +know you have been blackguarded in the papers lately, and that there is +a violent article against you in the Critic, and all on account of some +unwise utterances?" + +Lewis flushed deeply. "That is the worst thing I have done, and I feel +horribly penitent. It was the act of a cad and a silly schoolboy. But +I had some provocation, Tommy. I had spoken at length amid many +interruptions, and I was getting cross. It was at Gledfoot, and the +meeting was entirely against me. Then a man got up to tackle me, not a +native, but some wretched London agitator. As I looked at him--a little +chap with fiery eyes and receding brow--and heard his cockney patter, my +temper went utterly. I made a fool of him, and I abused the whole +assembly, and, funnily enough, I carried them with me. People say I +helped my cause immensely." + +"It is possible," said Wratislaw dryly. "The Scot has a sense of humour +and has no objection to seeing his prophets put to shame. But you are +getting a nice reputation elsewhere. When I read some of your sayings, +I laughed of course, but I thought ruefully of your chances." + +It was a penitent and desponding man who followed Wratislaw into the +snuggery at Etterick. But light and food, the gleam of silver and +vellum and the sweet fragrance of tobacco consoled him; for in most +matters he was half-hearted, and politics sat lightly on his affections. + + +II + +To Alice the weeks of the contest were filled with dire unpleasantness. +Lewis, naturally, kept far from Glenavelin, while of Mr. Stocks she was +never free. She followed Lady Manorwater's lead and canvassed +vigorously, hoping to find distraction in the excitement of the fight. +But her efforts did not prosper. On one occasion she found herself in a +cottage on the Gledsmuir road, her hands filled with election +literature. A hale old man was sitting at his meal, who greeted her +cordially, and made her sit down while she stumbled through the usual +questions and exhortations. "Are ye no' bidin' at Glenavelin?" he +asked. "And have I no seen ye walking on the hill wi' Maister Lewie?" +When the girl assented, he asked, with the indignation of the +privileged, "Then what for are ye sac keen this body Stocks should win +in? If Maister Lewie's fond o' ye, wad it no be wiser--like to wark for +him? Poalitics! What should a woman's poalitics be but just the same +as her lad's? I hae nae opeenion o' this clash about weemen's +eddication." And with flaming cheeks the poor girl had risen and fled +from the old reactionary. + +The incident burned into her mind, and she was wretched with the anomaly +of her position. A dawning respect for her rejected lover began to rise +in her heart. The first of his meetings which she attended had +impressed her with his skill in his own vocation. He had held those +people interested. He had spoken bluntly, strongly, honestly. To few +women is it given to distinguish the subtle shades of sincerity in +speech, and to the rule Alice was no exception. The rhetoric and the +cheers which followed had roused the speaker to a new life. His face +became keen, almost attractive, without question full of power. He was +an orator beyond doubt, and when he concluded in a riot of applause, +Alice sat with small hands clenched and eyes shining with delight. He +had spoken the main articles of her creed, but with what force and +freshness! She was convinced, satisfied, delighted; though somewhere in +her thought lurked her old dislike of the man and the memory of another. + +As ill-luck would have it, the next night she went to hear Lewis in +Gledsmuir, when that young gentleman was at his worst. She went +unattended, being a fearless young woman, and consequently found herself +in the very back of the hall crowded among some vehement politicians. +The audience, to begin with, was not unkind. Lewis was greeted with +applause, and at the first heard with patience. But his speech was +vague, incoherent, and tactless. To her unquiet eyes he seemed to be +afraid of the men before him. Every phrase was guarded with a proviso, +and "possiblys" bristled in every sentence. The politicians at the back +grew restless, and Alice was compelled to listen to their short, +scathing criticisms. Soon the meeting was hopelessly out of hand. Men +rose and rudely marched to the door. Catcalls were frequent from the +corners, and the back of the hall became aggressive. The girl had sat +with white, pained face, understanding little save that Lewis was +talking nonsense and losing all grip on his hearers. In spite of +herself she was contrasting this fiasco with the pithy words of Mr. +Stocks. When the meeting became unruly she looked for some display of +character, some proof of power. Mr. Stocks would have fiercely cowed +the opposition, or at least have spoken the last word in any quarrel. +Lewis's conduct was different. He shrugged his shoulders, made some +laughing remark to a friend on the platform, and with all the +nonchalance in the world asked the meeting if they wished to hear any +more. A claque of his supporters replied with feigned enthusiasm, but a +malcontent at Alice's side rose and stamped to the door. "I came to +hear sense," he cried, "and no this bairn's-blethers!" + +The poor girl was in despair. She had fancied him a man of power and +ambition, a doer, a man of action. But he was no more than a creature +of words and sentiment, graceful manners, and an engaging appearance. +The despised Mr. Stocks was the real worker. She had laughed at his +incessant solemnity as the badge of a fool, and adored Lewis's +light-heartedness as the true air of the great. But she had been +mistaken. Things were what they seemed. The light-hearted was the +half-hearted, "the wandering dilettante," Mr. Stocks had called him, +"the worst type of the pseudo-culture of our universities." She told +herself she hated the whole affectation of breeding and chivalry. Those +men--Lewis and his friends--were always kind and soft-spoken to her and +her sex. Her soul hated it; she cried aloud for equal treatment, for a +share of the iron and rigour of life. Their manners were a mere cloak +for contempt. If they could only be rude to a woman, it would be a +welcome relief from this facile condescension. What had she or any +woman with brains to do in that galley? They despised her kind, with +the scorn of sultans who chose their women-folk for looks and graces. +The thought was degrading, and a bitterness filled her heart against the +whole clique of easy aristocrats. Mr. Stocks was her true ally. To +him she was a woman, an equal; to them she was an engaging child, a +delicate toy. + +So far she went in her heresy, but no farther. It is a true saying that +you will find twenty heroic women before you may meet one generous one; +but Alice was not wholly without this rarest of qualities. The memory +of a frank voice, very honest grey eyes, and a robust cheerfulness +brought back some affection for the erring Lewis. The problem was +beyond her reconciling efforts, so the poor girl, torn between common +sense and feeling, and recognizing with painful clearness the complexity +of life, found refuge in secret tears. + +III + +The honours of the contest, so far as Lewis's party was concerned, fell +to George Winterham, and this was the fashion of the event. He had been +dragged reluctantly into the thing, foreseeing dire disaster for +himself, for he knew little and cared less about matters political, +though he was ready enough at a pinch to place his ignorance at his +friend's disposal. So he had been set to the dreary work of +committee-rooms; and then, since his manners were not unpleasing, +dispatched as aide-de-camp to any chance orator who enlivened the +county. But at last a crisis arrived in which other use was made of +him. A speaker of some pretensions had been announced for a certain +night at the considerable village of Allerfoot. The great man failed, +and as it was the very eve of the election none could be found for his +place. Lewis was in despair, till he thought of George. It was a +desperate chance, but the necessity was urgent, so, shutting himself up +for an hour, he wrote the better part of a speech which he entrusted to +his friend to prepare. George, having a good memory, laboriously +learned it by heart, and clutching the friendly paper and +whole-heartedly abusing his chief, he set out grimly to his fate. + +Promptly at the hour of eight he was deposited at the door of the +Masonic Hail in Allerfoot. The place seemed full, and a nervous +chairman was hovering around the gate. News of the great man's +defection had already been received, and he was in the extremes of +nervousness. He greeted George as a saviour, and led him inside, where +some three hundred people crowded a small whitewashed building. The +village of Allerfoot itself is a little place, but it is the centre of a +wide pastoral district, and the folk assembled were brown-faced herds +and keepers from the hills, plough-men from the flats of Glen Aller, a +few fishermen from the near sea-coast, as well as the normal inhabitants +of the village. + +George was wretchedly nervous and sat in a cold sweat while the chairman +explained that the great Mr. S---- deeply regretted that at the last +moment he was unfortunately compelled to break so important an +engagement, but that he had sent in his stead Mr. George Winterham, +whose name was well known as a distinguished Oxford scholar and a rising +barrister. George, who had been ploughed twice for Smalls and had +eventually taken a pass degree, and to whom the law courts were nearly +as unknown as the Pyramids, groaned inwardly at the astounding news. +The audience might have been a turnip field for all the personality it +possessed for him. He heard their applause as the chairman sat down +mopping his brow, and he rose to his feet conscious that he was smiling +like an idiot. He made some introductory remarks of his own--that "he +was sorry the other chap hadn't turned up, that he was happy to have the +privilege of expounding to them his views on this great subject "--and +then with an ominous sinking of heart plucked forth his papers and +launched into the unknown. + +The better part of the speech was wiped clean from his memory at the +start, so he had to lean heavily on the written word. He read rapidly +but without intelligence. Now and again a faint cheer would break the +even flow, and he would look up for a moment with startled eyes, only to +go off again with quickened speed. He found himself talking neat +paradoxes which he did not understand, and speaking glibly of names +which to him were no more than echoes. Eventually he came to an end at +least twenty minutes before a normal political speech should close, and +sat down, hot and perplexed, with a horrible sense of having made a fool +of himself. + +The chairman, no less perplexed, made the usual remarks and then called +for questions, for the time had to be filled in somehow. The words left +George aghast. The wretched man looked forward to raw public shame. +His ignorance would be exposed, his presumption laid bare, his pride +thrown in the dust. He nerved himself for a despairing effort. He +would brazen things out as far as possible; afterwards, let the heavens +fall. + +An old minister rose and asked in a thin ancient voice what the +Government had done for the protection of missionaries in +Khass-Kotannun. Was he, Mr. Winterham, aware that our missionaries in +that distant land had been compelled to wear native dress by the +arrogant chiefs, and so fallen victims to numerous chills and epidemics? + +George replied that he considered the treatment abominable, believed +that the matter occupied the mind of the Foreign Office night and day, +and would be glad personally to subscribe to any relief fund. The good +man declared himself satisfied, and St. Sebastian breathed freely +again. + +A sturdy man in homespun rose to discover the Government's intention on +Church matters. Did the speaker ken that on his small holding he paid +ten pound sterling in tithes, though he himself did not hold with the +Establishment, being a Reformed Presbyterian? The Laodicean George said +he did not understand the differences, but that it seemed to him a +confounded shame, and he would undertake that Mr. Haystoun, if +returned, would take immediate steps in the matter. + +So far he had done well, but with the next question he betrayed his +ignorance. A good man arose, also hot on Church affairs, to discourse +on some disabilities, and casually described himself as a U.P. George's +wits busied themselves in guessing at the mystic sign. At last to his +delight he seemed to achieve it, and, in replying, electrified his +audience by assuming that the two letters stood for Unreformed +Presbyterian. + +But the meeting was in good humour in spite of his incomprehensible +address and unsatisfying answers, till a small section of the young +bloods of the opposite party, who had come to disturb, felt that this +peace must be put an end to. Mr. Samuel M'Turk, lawyer's clerk, who +hailed from the west country and betrayed his origin in his speech, rose +amid some applause from his admirers to discomfit George. He was a +young man with a long, sallow face, carefully oiled and parted hair, and +a resonant taste in dress. A bundle of papers graced his hand, and his +air was parliamentary. + +"Wis Mister Winterham aware that Mister Haystoun had contradicted +himself on two occasions lately, as he would proceed to show?" + +George heard him patiently, said that now he was aware of the fact, but +couldn't for the life of him see what the deuce it mattered. + +"After Mister Winterham's ignoring of my pint," went on the young man, +"I proceed to show ..." and with all the calmness in the world he +displayed to his own satisfaction how Mr. Lewis Haystoun was no fit +person to represent the constituency. He profaned the Sabbath, which +this gentleman professed to hold dear, he was notorious for drunkenness, +and his conduct abroad had not been above suspicion. + +George was on his feet in a moment, his confusion gone, his face very +red, and his shoulders squared for a fight. The man saw the effect of +his words, and promptly sat down. + +"Get up," said George abruptly. + +The man's face whitened and he shrank back among his friends. + +"Get up; up higher--on the top of the seat, that everybody may see and +hear you! Now repeat very carefully all that over again." + +The man's confidence had deserted him. He stammered something about +meaning no harm. + +"You called my friend a drunken blackguard. I am going to hear the +accusation in detail." George stood up to his full height, a terrible +figure to the shrinking clerk, who repeated his former words with a +faltering tongue. + +He heard him out quietly, and then stared coolly down on the people. He +felt himself master of the situation. The enemy had played into his +hands, and in the shape of a sweating clerk sat waiting on his action. + +"You have heard what this man has to tell you. I ask you as men, as +folk of this countryside, if it is true?" + +It was the real speech of the evening, which was all along waiting to be +delivered instead of the frigid pedantries on the paper. A man was +speaking simply, valiantly, on behalf of his friend. It was cunningly +done, with the natural tact which rarely deserts the truly honest man in +his hour of extremity. He spoke of Lewis as he had known him, at school +and college and in many wild sporting expeditions in desert places, and +slowly the people kindled and listened. Then, so to speak, he kicked +away the scaffolding of his erection. He ceased to be the apologist, +and became the frank eulogist. He stood squarely on the edge of the +platform, gathering the eyes of his hearers, smiling pleasantly, arms +akimbo, a man at his ease and possibly at his pleasure. + +"Some of you are herds," he cried, "and some are fishers, and some are +farmers, and some are labourers. Also some of you call yourselves +Radicals or Tories or Socialists. But you are all of you far more than +these things. You are men--men of this great countryside, with blood in +your veins and vigour in that blood. If you were a set of pale-faced +mechanics, I should not be speaking to you, for I should not understand +you. But I know you all, and I like you, and I am going to prevent you +from making godless fools of yourselves. There are two men before you. +One is a very clever man, whom I don't know anything about, nor you +either. The other is my best friend, and known to all of you. Many of +you have shot or sailed with him, many of you were born on his and his +fathers' lands. I have told you of his abilities and quoted better +judges than myself. I don't need to tell you that he is the best of +men, a sportsman, a kind master, a very good fellow indeed. You can +make up your mind between the two. Opinions matter very little, but +good men are too scarce to be neglected. Why, you fools," he cried with +boisterous good humour, "I should back Lewis if he were a Mohammedan or +an Anarchist. The man is sound metal, I tell you, and that's all I +ask." + +It was a very young man's confession of faith, but it was enough. The +meeting went with him almost to a man. A roar of applause greeted the +smiling orator, and when he sat down with flushed face, bright eyes, and +a consciousness of having done his duty, John Sanderson, herd in Nether +Callowa, rose to move a vote of confidence: + +"That this assembly is of opinion that Maister Lewis Haystoun is a guid +man, and sae is our friend Maister Winterham, and we'll send Lewie back +to Parliament or be--" + +It was duly seconded and carried with acclamation. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE PRIDE BEFORE A FALL + + +The result of the election was announced in Gledsmuir on the next +Wednesday evening, and carried surprise to all save Lewis's nearer +friends. For Mr. Albert Stocks was duly returned member for the +constituency by a majority of seventy votes. The defeated candidate +received the news with great composure, addressed some good-humoured +words to the people, had a generous greeting for his opponent, and met +his committee with a smiling face. But his heart was sick within him, +and as soon as he decently might he escaped from the turmoil, found his +horse, and set off up Glenavelin for his own dwelling. + +He had been defeated, and the fact, however confidently looked for, +comes with a bitter freshness to every man. He had lost a seat for his +party--that in itself was bad. But he had proved himself incompetent, +unadaptable, a stick, a pedantic incapable. A dozen stings rankled in +his soul. Alice would be justified of her suspicions. Where would his +place be now in that small imperious heart? His own people had forsaken +him for a gross and unlikely substitute, and he had been wrong in his +estimate alike of ally and enemy. Above all came that cruelest +stab--what would Wratislaw think of it? He had disgraced himself in the +eyes of his friend. He who had made a fetish of competence had +manifestly proved wanting; he who had loved to think of himself as the +bold, opportune man, had shown himself formal and hidebound. + +As he passed Glenavelin among the trees the thought of Alice was a sharp +pang of regret. He could never more lift his eyes in that young and +radiant presence. He pictured the successful Stocks welcomed by her, +and words of praise for which he would have given his immortal soul, +meted out lavishly to that owl-like being. It was a dismal business, +and ruefully, but half-humorously, he caught at the paradox of his fate. + +Through the swiftly failing darkness the inn of Etterick rose before +him, a place a little apart from the village street. A noise of talk +floated from the kitchen and made him halt at the door and dismount. +The place would be full of folk discussing the election, and he would go +in among them and learn the worst opinion which men might have of him. +After all, they were his own people, who had known him in his power as +they now saw him in his weakness. If he had failed he was not wholly +foolish; they knew his few redeeming virtues, and they would be +generous. + +The talk stopped short as he entered, and he saw through the tobacco +reek half a dozen lengthy faces wearing the air of solemnity which the +hillman adopts in his pleasures. They were all his own herds and +keepers, save two whom he knew for foresters from Glenavelin. He was +recognized at once, and with a general nervous shuffling they began to +make room for the laird at the table. He cried a hasty greeting to all, +and sat down between a black-bearded giant, whose clothes smelt of +sheep, and a red-haired man from one of the remoter glens. The notion +of the thing pleased him, and he ordered drinks for each with a lavish +carelessness. He asked for a match for his pipe, and the man who gave +it wore a decent melancholy on his face and shook his head with unction. + +"This is a bad job, Lewie," he said, using the privileged name of the +ancient servant. "Whae would have ettled sic a calaamity to happen in +your ain countryside? We a' thocht it would be a grand pioy for ye, for +ye would settle down here and hae nae mair foreign stravaigins. And +then this tailor body steps in and spoils a'. It's maist vexaatious." + +"It was a good fight, and he beat me fairly; but we'll drop the matter. +I'm sick--tired of politics, Adam. If I had been a better man they +might have made a herd of me, and I should have been happy." + +"Wheesht, Lewie," said the man, grinning. "A herd's job is no for the +likes o' you. But there's better wark waiting for ye than poalitics. +It's a beggar's trade after a', and far better left to bagman bodies +like yon Stocks. It's a puir thing for sac proper a man as you." + +"But what can I do?" cried Lewis in despair. "I have no profession. I +am useless." + +"Useless! Ye are a grand judge o' sheep and nowt, and ye ken a horse +better than ony couper. Ye can ride like a jockey and drive like a +Jehu, and there's no your equal in these parts with a gun or a +fishing-rod. Forbye, I would rather walk ae mile on the hill wi' ye +than twae, for ye gang up a brae-face like a mawkin! God! There's no a +single man's trade that ye're no brawly fitted for. And then ye've a +heap o' book-lear that folk learned ye away about England, though I +cannot speak muckle on that, no being a jidge." + +Lewis grinned at the portraiture. "You do me proud. But let's talk +about serious things. You were on sheep when I came in. Get back to +them and give me your mind on Cheviots. The lamb sales promise well." + +For twenty minutes the room hummed with technicalities. One man might +support the conversation on alien matters, but on sheep the humblest +found a voice: Lewis watched the ring of faces with a sharp delight. +The election had made him sick of his fellows--fellows who chattered and +wrangled and wallowed in the sentimental. But now every line of these +brown faces, the keen blue eyes, the tawny, tangled beards, and the +inimitable soft-sounding southern speech, seemed an earnest of a real +and strenuous life. He began to find a new savour in existence. The +sense of his flat incompetence left him, and he found himself speaking +heartily and laughing with zest. + +"It's as I say," said the herd of the Redswirebead. "I'm getting an +auld man and a verra wise ane, and the graund owercome for the world is +just 'Pay no attention.' Ye'll has heard how the word cam' to be. It +was Jock Linklater o' the Caulds wha was glen notice to quit by the +laird, and a' the countryside was vexed to pairt wi' Jock, for he was a +popular character. But about a year after a friend meets him at +Gledsmuir merkit as crouse as ever. 'Lodsake, Jock, man, I thocht ye +were awa',' says he. 'No,' says Jock, 'no. I'm here as ye see.' 'But +how did ye manage it?' he asked. 'Fine,' says Jock. 'They sent me a +letter tellin' me I must gang; but I just payed no attention. Syne they +sent me a blue letter frae the lawyer's, but I payed no attention. Syne +the factor cam' to see me.' 'Ay, and what did ye do then, Jock?' says +he. 'Oh, I payed no attention. Syne the laird cam' himsel.' 'Ay, that +would fricht ye,' he says. 'No, no a grain,' said Jock, verra calm. 'I +just payed no attention, and here I am.'" + +Lewis laughed, but the rest of the audience suffered no change of +feature. The gloaming had darkened, and the little small-paned window +was a fretted sheet of dark and lucent blue. Grateful odours of food +and drink and tobacco hung in the air, though tar and homespun and the +far-carried fragrance of peat fought stoutly for the mastery. + +One man fell to telling of a fox-hunt, when he lay on the hill for the +night and shot five of the destroyers of his flock before the morning, +it was the sign--and the hour--for stories of many kinds--tales of +weather and adventure, humorous lowland escapades and dismal mountain +realities. Or stranger still, there would come the odd, half-believed +legends of the glen, told shamefully yet with the realism of men for +whom each word had a power and meaning far above fiction. Lewis +listened entranced, marking his interest now by an exclamation, and +again by a question. + +The herd of Farawa told of the salmon, the king of the Aller salmon, who +swam to the head of Aller and then crossed the spit of land to the head +of Callowa to meet the king of the Callowa fish. It was a humorous +story, and was capped there and then by his cousin of the Dreichill, who +told a ghastly tale of a murder in the wilds. Then a lonely man, Simon +o' the Heid o' the Hope, glorified his powers on a January night when he +swung himself on a flood-gate over the Aller while the thing quivered +beneath him, and the water roared redly above his thighs. + +"And that yett broke when I was three pairts ower, and I went down the +river with my feet tangled in the bars and nae room for sweemin'. But I +gripped an oak-ritt and stelled mysel' for an hour till the water +knockit the yett to sawdust. It broke baith my ankles, and though I'm a +mortal strong man in my arms, thae twisted kitts keepit me helpless. +When a man's feet are broke he has nae strength in his wrist." + +"I know," said Lewis, with excitement. "I have found the same myself." + +"Where?" asked the man, without rudeness. + +"Once on the Skifso when I was after salmon, and once in the Doorab +hills above Abjela." + +"Were ye sick when they rescued ye? I was. I had twae muscles sprung +on my arm, but that was naething to the retching and dizziness when they +laid me on the heather. Jock Jeffrey was bending ower me, and though he +wasna touching me I began to suffocate, and yet I was ower weak to cry +out and had to thole it." + +"I know. If you hang up in the void for a little and get the feeling of +great space burned on your mind, you nearly die of choking when you are +pulled up. Fancy you knowing about that." + +"Have you suffered it, Maister Lewie?" said the man. + +"Once. There was a gully in the Doorabs just like the Scarts o' the +Muneraw, only twenty times deeper, and there was a bridge of tree-trunks +bound with ropes across it. We all got over except one mule and a +couple of men. They were just getting off when a trunk slipped and +dangled down into the abyss with one end held up by the ropes. The poor +animal went plumb to the bottom; we heard it first thud on a jag of rock +and then, an age after, splash in the water. One of the men went with +it, but the other got his legs caught between the ropes and the tree and +managed to hang on. The poor beggar was helpless with fright; and he +squealed--great heavens! how he did squeal!" + +"And what did ye dae?" asked a breathless audience. + +"I went down after him. I had to, for I was his master, and besides, I +was a bit of an athlete then. I cried to him to hang on and not look +down. I clambered down the swaying trunk while my people held the ropes +at the top, and when I got near the man I saw what had happened. + +"He had twisted his ankles in the fall, and though he had got them out +of the ropes, yet they hung loose and quite obviously broken. I got as +near him as I could, and leaned over, and I remember seeing through +below his armpits the blue of the stream six hundred feet down. It made +me rather sick with my job, and when I called him to pull himself up a +bit till I could grip him I thought he was helpless with the same +fright. But it turned out that I had misjudged him. He had no power in +his arms, simply the dead strength to hang on. I was in a nice fix, for +I could lower myself no farther without slipping into space. Then I +thought of a dodge. I got a good grip of the rope and let my legs +dangle down till they were level with his hands. I told him to try and +change his grip and catch my ankles. He did it, somehow or other, and +by George! the first shock of his weight nearly ended me, for he was a +heavy man. However, I managed to pull myself up a yard or two and then +I could reach down and catch his arms. We both got up somehow or other, +but it took a devilish time, and when they laid us both on the ground +and came round like fools with brandy I thought I should choke and had +scarcely strength to swear at them to get out." + +The assembly had listened intently, catching its breath with a sharp +_risp_ as all outdoor folks will do when they hear of an escapade which +strikes their fancy. One man--a stranger--hammered his empty pipe-bowl +on the table in applause. + +"Whae was the man, d'ye say?" he asked. "A neeger?" + +Lewis laughed. "Not a nigger most certainly, though he had a brown +face." + +"And ye risked your life for a black o' some kind? Man, ye must be +awfu' fond o' your fellow men. Wad ye dae the same for the likes o' us? + +"Surely. For one of my own folk! But it was really a very small +thing." + +"Then I have just ae thing to say," said the brown-bearded man. "I am +what ye cal a Raadical, and yestreen I recorded my vote for yon man +Stocks. He crackit a lot about the rights o' man--as man, and I was wi' +him. But I tell ye that you yoursel' have a better notion o' human +kindness than ony Stocks, and though ye're no o' my party, yet I +herewith propose a vote o' confidence in Maister Lewis Haystoun." + +The health was drunk solemnly yet with gusto, and under cover of it +Lewis fled out of doors. His despondency had passed, and a fit of +fierce exhilaration had seized him. Men still swore by his name; he was +still loved by his own folk; small matter to him if a townsman had +defeated him. He was no vain talker, but a doer, a sportsman, an +adventurer. This was his true career. Let others have the applause of +excited indoor folk or dull visionaries; for him a man's path, a man's +work, and a man's commendation. + +The moon was up, riding high in a shoreless sea of blue, and in the +still weather the streams called to each other from the mountain sides, +as in some fantastic cosmic harmony. High on the ridge shoulder the +lights of Etterick twinkled starlike amid the fretted veil of trees. A +sense of extraordinary and crazy exhilaration, the recoil from the +constraint of weeks, laid hold on his spirit. He hummed a dozen +fragments of song, and at times would laugh with the pure pleasure of +life. The quixotic, the generous, the hopeless, the successful; +laughter and tears; death and birth; the warm hearth and the open +road--all seemed blent for the moment into one great zest for living. +"I'll to Lochiel and Appin and kneel to them," he was humming aloud, +when suddenly his bridle was caught and a man's hand was at his knee. + +"Lewie," cried Wratislaw, "gracious, man! have you been drinking?" And +then seeing the truth, he let go the bridle, put an arm through the +stirrup leathers, and walked by the horse's side. "So that's the way +you take it, old chap? Do you know that you are a discredited and +defeated man? and yet I find you whistling like a boy. I have hopes +for you, Lewie. You have the Buoyant Heart, and with that nothing can +much matter. But, confound it! you are hours late for dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +PASTORAL AND TRAGEDY + + +The news of the election, brought to Glenavelin by a couple of ragged +runners, had a different result from that forecast by Lewis. Alice +heard it with a heart unquickened; and when, an hour after, the flushed, +triumphant Mr. Stocks arrived in person to claim the meed of success, +he was greeted with a painful carelessness. Lady Manorwater had been +loud in her laments for her nephew, but to Mr. Stocks she gave the +honest praise which a warm-hearted woman cannot withhold from the +fighter. + +"Our principles have won," she cried. "Now who will call the place a +Tory stronghold? Oh, Mr. Stocks, you have done wonderfully, and I am +very glad. I'm not a bit sorry for Lewis, for he well deserved his +beating." + +But with Alice there could be neither pleasure nor its simulation. Her +terrible honesty forbade her the easy path of false congratulations. +She bit her lip till tears filled her eyes. What was this wretched +position into which she had strayed? Lewis was all she had feared, but +he was Lewis, and far more than any bundle of perfections. A hot, +passionate craving for his presence was blinding her to reason. And +this man who had won--this, the fortunate politician--she cared for him +not a straw. A strong dislike began to grow in her heart to the +blameless Mr. Stocks. + +Dinner that night was a weary meal to the girl. Lady Manorwater +prattled about the day's events, and Lord Manorwater, hopelessly bored, +ate his food in silence. The lively Bertha had gone to bed with a +headache, and the younger Miss Afflint was the receptacle for the moment +of her hostess's confidences. Alice sat between Mr. Stocks and Arthur, +facing a tall man with a small head and immaculate hair who had ridden +over to dine and sleep. One of the two had the wisdom to see her humour +and keep silent, though the thought plunged him into a sea of ugly +reflections. It would be hard if, now that things were going well with +him, the lady alone should prove obdurate. For in all this politician's +daydreams a dainty figure walked by his side, sat at his table's head, +received his friends, fascinated austere ministers, and filled his pipe +of an evening at home. + +Arthur was silent, and to him the lady turned in vain. He treated her +with an elaborate politeness which sat ill on his brusque manners, and +for the most part showed no desire to enliven the prevailing dulness. +But after dinner he carried her off to the gardens on the plea of fresh +air and a fine sunset, and the girl, who liked the boy, went gladly. +Then the reason of his silence was made plain. He dismayed her by +becoming lovesick. + +"Tell me your age, Alice," he implored. + +"I am twenty at Christmas time," said the girl, amazed at the question. + +"And I am seventeen or very nearly that. Men sometimes marry women +older than themselves, and I don't see why I shouldn't. Oh, Alice, +promise that you will marry me. I never met a girl I liked so much, and +I am sure we should be happy." + +"I am sure we should," said the girl, laughing. "You silly boy! what +put such nonsense in your head? I am far too old for you, and though I +like you very much, I don't in the least want to marry you." She seemed +to herself to have got out of a sober world into a sort of Mad +Tea-party, where people behaved like pantaloons and spoke in conundrums. + +The boy flushed and his eyes grew cross. "Is it somebody else?" he +asked; at which the girl, with a memory of Mr. Stocks, reflected on the +dreadful monotony of men's ways. + +A solution flashed upon his brain. "Are you going to marry Lewie +Haystoun?" he cried in a more cheerful voice. After all, Lewis was his +cousin, and a worthy rival. + +Alice grew hotly uncomfortable. "I am not going to marry Mr. Lewis +Haystoun, and I am not going to talk to you any more." And she turned +round with a flaming face to the cool depths of the wood. + +"Then it is that fellow Stocks. Oh, Lord!" groaned Arthur, irritated +into bad manners. "You can't mean it, Alice. He's not fit to black +your boots." + +Some foolish impulse roused the girl to reply. She defended the very +man against whom all the evening she had been unreasonably bitter. "You +have no right to abuse him. He is your people's guest and a very +distinguished man, and you are only a foolish boy." + +He paled below his sunburn. Now he believed the truth of the horrid +suspicion which had been fastening on his mind. "But--but," he +stammered, "the chap isn't a gentleman, you know." + +The words quickened her vexation. A gentleman! The cant word, the +fetish of this ring of idle aristocrats--she knew the hollowness of the +whole farce. The democrat in her made her walk off with erect head and +bright eyes, leaving a penitent boy behind; while all the time a sick, +longing heart drove her to the edge of tears. + + * * * * * + +The days dragged slowly for the girl. The brightness had gone out of +the wide, airy landscape, and the warm August days seemed chill. She +hated herself for the wrong impression she had left on the boy Arthur's +mind, but she was too proud to seek to erase it; she could but trust to +his honour for silence. If Lewis heard--the thought was too terrible to +face! He would resign himself to the inevitable; she knew the temper of +the man. Good form was his divinity, and never by word or look would he +attempt to win another man's betrothed. She must see him and learn the +truth: but he came no more to Glenavelin, and Etterick was a far cry for +a girl's fancy. Besides, the Twelfth had come and the noise of guns on +every hill spoke of other interests for the party at Etterick. Lewis +had forgotten his misfortunes, she told herself, and in the easy way of +the half-hearted found in bodily fatigue a drug for a mind but little in +need of it. + + * * * * * + +One afternoon Lady Manorwater came over the lawn waving a letter. "Do +you want to go and picnic to-morrow, Alice?" she cried. "Lewis is to +be shooting on the moors at the head of the Avelin, and he wants us to +come and lunch at the Pool of Ness. He wants the whole party to come, +particularly Mr. Stocks, and he wants to know if you have forgiven him. +What can the boy mean?" + +As the cheerful little lady paused, Alice's heart beat till she feared +betrayal. A sudden fierce pleasure burned in her veins. Did he still +seek her good opinion? Was he, as well as herself, miserable alone? +And then came like a stab the thought that he had joined her with +Stocks. Did he class her with that alien world of prigs and dullards? +She ceased to think, and avoiding her hostess and tea, ran over the +wooden bridge to the slope of hill and climbed up among the red heather. + +A month ago she had been heart-whole and young, a simple child. The +same prejudices and generous beliefs had been hers, but held loosely +with a child's comprehension. But now this old world had been awakened +to arms against a dazzling new world of love and pleasure. She was led +captive by emotion, but the cold rook of scruple remained. She had read +of women surrendering all for love, but she felt dismally that this +happy gift had been denied her. Criticism, a fierce, vulgar antagonism, +impervious to sentiment, not to be exorcised by generous impulse--such +was her unlovely inheritance. + +As she leaned over a pool of clear brown water in a little burn, where +scented ferns dipped and great rocks of brake and heather shadowed, she +saw her face and figure mirrored in every colour and line. Her +extraordinary prettiness delighted her, and then she laughed at her own +vanity. A lady of the pools, with the dark eyes and red-gold hair of +the north, surely a creature of dawn and the blue sky, and born for no +dreary self-communings. She returned, with her eyes clear and something +like laughter in her heart. To-morrow she should see him, to-morrow! + + * * * * * + +It was the utter burning silence of midday, when the man who toils loses +the skin of his face, and the man who rests tastes the joys of deep +leisure. The blue, airless sky, the level hilltops, the straight lines +of glen, the treeless horizon of the moors--no sharp ridge or cliff +caught the tired eye, only an even, sleep-lulled harmony. Five very +hungry, thirsty, and wearied men lay in the shadow above the Pool of +Ness, and prayed heaven for luncheon. + +Lewis and George, Wratislaw and Arthur Mordaunt were there, and Doctor +Gracey, who loved a day on the hills. The keepers sat farther up the +slope smoking their master's tobacco--sure sign of a well-spent morning. +For the party had been on the moors by eight, and for five burning hours +had tramped the heather. All wore light and airy shooting-clothes save +the doctor, who had merely buckled gaiters over his professional black +trousers. All were burned to a tawny brown, and all lay in different +attitudes of gasping ease. Few things so clearly proclaim a man's past +as his posture when lounging. Arthur and Wratislaw lay, like townsmen, +prone on their faces with limbs rigidly straight. Lewis and George--old +campaigners both--lay a little on the side, arms lying loosely, and +knees a little bent. But one and all gasped, and swore softly at the +weather. + +"Turn round, Tommy," said George, glancing up, "or you'll get sunstroke +at the back of the neck. I've had it twice, so I ought to know. You +want to wet your handkerchief and put it below your cap. Why don't you +wear a deer-stalker instead of that hideous jockey thing? Feugh, I am +warm and cross and thirsty. Lewis, I'll give your aunt five minutes, +and then I shall go down and drink that pool dry." + +Lewis sat up and watched the narrow ribbon of road which coiled up the +glen to the pool's edge. He only saw some hundreds of yards down it, +but the prospect served to convince him that his erratic aunt was late. + +"If my wishes had any effect," said George, "at this moment I should be +having iced champagne." And he cast a longing eye to the hampers. + +"You won't get any," said Lewis. "We are not sybarites in this +glen, and our drinks are the drinks of simple folk. Do you +remember Cranstoun? I once went stalking with him, and we had +_pate-de-foie-gras_ for luncheon away up on the side of a rugged +mountain. That sort of thing sets my teeth on edge." + +"Honest man!" cried George. "But here are your friends, and you had +better stir yourself and make them welcome." + +Five very cool and leisurely beings were coming up the hill-path, for, +having driven to above the village, they had had an easy walk of +scarcely half a mile. Lewis's eye sought out a slight figure behind the +others, a mere gleam of pink and white. As she stepped out from the +path to the heather his eye was quick to seize her exquisite grace. +Other women arrayed themselves in loose and floating raiment, ribbons +and what not; but here was one who knew her daintiness, and made no +effort to cloak it. Trim, cool, and sweet, the coils of bright hair +above the white frock catching the noon sun--surely a lady to pray for +and toil for, one made for no facile wooing or easy conquest. + +Lewis advanced to Mr. Stocks as soon as he had welcomed his aunt, and +shook hands cordially. "We seem to have lost sight of each other during +the last few days. I never congratulated you enough, but you probably +understood that my head was full of other things. You fought +splendidly, and I can't say I regret the issue. You will do much better +than I ever could." + +Mr. Stocks smiled happily. The wheel of his fortunes was bringing him +very near the top. All the way up he had had Alice for a companion; and +that young woman, happy from a wholly different cause, had been +wonderfully gracious. He felt himself on Mr. Lewis Haystoun's level at +last, and the baffling sense of being on a different plane, which he had +always experienced in his company, was gone, he hoped, for ever. So he +became frank and confidential, forgot the pomp of his talk and his +inevitable principles, and assisted in laying lunch. + +Lady Manorwater drove her nephew into a corner. + +"Where have you been, Lewis, all these days? If you had been anybody +else, I should have said you were sulking. I must speak to you +seriously. Do you know that Alice has been breaking her heart for you? +I won't have the poor child made miserable, and though I don't in the +least want you to marry her, yet; I cannot have you playing with her." + +Lewis had grown suddenly very red. + +"I think you are mistaken," he said stiffly. "Miss Wishart does not +care a straw for me. If she is in love with anybody, it is with +Stocks." + +"I am much older than you, my dear, and I should know better. I may as +well confess that I hoped it would be Mr. Stocks, but I can't +disbelieve my own eyes. The child becomes wretched whenever she hears +your name." + +"You are making me miserably unhappy, because I can't believe a word of +it. I have made a howling fool of myself lately, and I can't be blind +to what she thinks of me." + +Lady Manorwater looked pathetic. "Is the great Lewis ashamed of +himself?" + +"Not a bit. I would do it again, for it is my nature to, as the hymn +says. I am cut all the wrong way, and my mind is my mind, you know. +But I can't expect Miss Wishart to take that point of view." + +His aunt shook a hopeless head. "Your moral nature is warped, my dear. +It has always been the same since you were a very small boy at +Glenavelin, and read the Holy War on the hearthrug. You could never be +made to admire Emmanuel and his captains, but you set your heart on the +reprobates Jolly and Griggish. But get away and look after your guests, +sir." + +Lunch came just in time to save five hungry men from an undignified end. +The Glenavelin party looked on with amusement as the ravenous appetites +were satisfied. Mr. Stocks, in a huge good humour, talked discursively +of sport. He inquired concerning the morning's bag, and called up +reminiscences of friends who had equalled or exceeded it. Lewis was +uncomfortable, for he felt that in common civility Mr. Stocks should +have been asked to shoot. He could not excuse himself with the plea of +an unintentional omission, for he had heard reports of the gentleman's +wonderful awkwardness with a gun, and he had not found it in his heart +to spoil the sport of five keen and competent hands. + +He dared not look at Alice, for his aunt's words had set his pulses +beating hotly. For the last week he had wrestled with himself, telling +his heart that this lady was beyond his ken for ever and a day, for he +belonged by nature to the clan of despondent lovers. Before, she had +had all the icy reserve, he all the fervours. The hint of some spark of +fire behind the snows of her demeanour filled him with a delirious joy. +Every movement of her body pleased him, every word which she spoke, the +blitheness of her air and the ready kindness. The pale, pretty Afflint +girls, with their wit and their confidence, seemed old and womanly +compared with Alice. Let simplicity be his goddess +henceforth--simplicity and youth. + +The Pool of Ness is a great, black cauldron of clear water, with berries +above and berries below, and high crags red with heather. There you may +find shade in summer, and great blaeberries and ripening rowans in the +wane of August. These last were the snare for Alice, who was ever an +adventurer. For the moment she was the schoolgirl again, and all sordid +elderly cares were tossed to the wind. She teased Doctor Gracey to that +worthy's delight, and she bade George and Arthur fetch and carry in a +way that made them her slaves for life. Then she unbent to Mr. Stocks +and made him follow her out on a peninsula of rock, above which hung a +great cluster of fruit. The unfortunate politician was not built for +this kind of exercise, and slipped and clung despairingly to every root +and cleft. Lewis followed aimlessly: her gaiety did not fit with his +mood; and he longed to have her to himself and know his fortune. + +He passed the panting Stocks and came up with the errant lady. + +"For heaven's sake be careful, Miss Wishart," he cried in alarm. +"That's an ugly black swirl down there." + +The girl laughed in his face. + +"Isn't the place glorious!" she cried. "It's as cool as winter, and +oh! the colours of that hillside. I'm going up to that birk-tree to +sit. Do you think I can do it?" + +"I am coming up after you," said Lewis. + +She stopped and regarded it with serious eyes. "It's hard, but I'm +going to try. It's harder than the Midburn that I climbed up on the +day I saw you fishing." + +She remembered! Joy caught at his heart, and he laughed so gladly that +Alice turned round to look at him. Something in his eyes made her turn +her head away and scan the birk-tree again. + +Then suddenly there was a slip of soil, a helpless clutch at fern and +heather, a cry of terror, and he was alone on the headland. The black +swirl was closing over the girl's head. + +He had been standing rapt in a happy fancy, his thoughts far in a world +of their own, and his eyes vacant of any purpose. Startled to +alertness, he still saw vaguely, and for a second stood irresolute and +wondering. Then came another splash, and a heavy body flung itself into +the pool from lower down the rock. He knew the black head and the round +shoulders of Mr. Stocks. + +The man caught the girl as she struggled to get out of the swirl and +with strong ugly strokes began to make for shore. Lewis stood with a +sick heart, slow to realize the horror which had overtaken him. She was +out of danger, though the man was swimming badly; dismally he noted the +fact of his atrocious swimming. But this was the hero; he had stood +irresolute. The thought burned him like a hot iron. + +Half a dozen pairs of hands relieved the swimmer of his burden. Alice +was little the worse, a trifle pale, very draggled and unhappy, and +utterly tired. Lady Manorwater wept over her and kissed her, and hailed +the dripping Stocks as her preserver. Lewis alone stood back. He +satisfied himself that she was unhurt, and then, on the plea of getting +the carriage, set off down the glen with a very grey, quivering face. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE PLEASURES OF A CONSCIENCE + + +It was half-way down the glen that the full ignominy of his position +came on Lewis with the shock of a thunder-clap. A hateful bitterness +against her preserver and the tricks of fate had been his solitary +feeling, till suddenly he realized the part he had played, and saw +himself for a naked coward. Coward he called himself--without +reflection; for in such a moment the mind thinks in crude colours and +bold lines of division. He set his teeth in his lip, and with a heart +sinking at the shameful thought stalked into the farm stables where the +Glenavelin servants were. + +He could not return to the Pool. Alice was little hurt, so anxiety was +needless; better let him leave Mr. Stocks to enjoy his heroics in +peace. He would find an excuse; meanwhile, give him quiet and solitude +to digest his bitterness. He cursed himself for the unworthiness of his +thoughts. What a pass had he come to when he grudged a little _kudos_ +to a rival, grudged it churlishly, childishly. He flung from him the +self-reproach. Other people would wonder at his ungenerousness, and his +sulky ill-nature. They would explain by the first easy discreditable +reason. What cared he for their opinion when he knew the far greater +shame in his heart? + +For as he strode up the woodland path to Etterick the wrappings of +surface passion fell off from his view of the past hour, and he saw the +bald and naked ribs of his own incapacity. It was a trivial incident to +the world, but to himself a momentous self-revelation. He was a +dreamer, a weakling, a fool. He had hesitated in a crisis, and another +had taken his place. A thousand incidents of ready courage in past +sport and travel were forgotten, and on this single slip the terrible +indictment was founded. And the reason is at hand; this weakness had at +last drawn near to his life's great passion. + +He found a deserted house, but its solitude was too noisy for his +unrest. Bidding the butler tell his friends that he had gone up the +hill, he crossed the sloping lawns and plunged into the thicket of +rhododendrons. Soon he was out on the heather, with the great slopes, +scorched with the heat, lying still and fragrant before him. He felt +sick and tired, and flung himself down amid the soft brackens. + +It was the man's first taste of bitter mental anguish. Hitherto his +life had been equable and pleasant; his friends had adored him; the +world had flattered him; he had been at peace with his own soul. He had +known his failings, but laughed at them cavalierly; he stood on a +different platform from the struggling, conscience-stricken herd. Now +he had in very truth been flung neck and crop from the pedestal of his +self-esteem; and he lay groaning in the dust of abasement. + +Wratislaw guessed with a friend's instinct his friend's disquietude, and +turned his steps to the hill when he had heard the butler's message. He +had known something of Lewis's imaginary self-upbraidings, and he was +prepared for them, but he was not prepared for the grey and wretched +face in the lee of the pinewood. A sudden suspicion that Lewis had been +guilty of some real dishonour flashed across his mind for the moment, +only to be driven out with scorn. + +"Lewie, my son, what the deuce is wrong with you?" he cried. + +The other looked at him with miserable eyes. + +"I am beginning to find out my rottenness." + +Wratislaw laughed in spite of himself. "What a fool to go making +psychological discoveries on such a day! Is it all over the little +misfortune at the pool?" + +Tragedy grew in Lewis's eyes. "Don't laugh, old chap. You don't know +what I did. I let her fall into the water, and then I stood staring and +let another man--the other man--save her." + +"Well, and what about that? He had a better chance than you. You +shouldn't grudge him his good fortune." + +"Good Lord, man, you don't think it's that that's troubling me! I felt +murderous, but it wasn't on his account." + +"Why not?" asked the older man drily. "You love the girl, and he's in +the running with you. What more?" + +Lewis groaned. "How can I talk about loving her when my love is such a +trifling thing that it doesn't nerve me to action? I tell you I love +her body and soul. I live for her. The whole world is full of her. +She is never a second out of my thoughts. And yet I am so little of a +man that I let her come near death and never try to save her." + +"But, confound it, man, it may have been mere absence of mind. You were +always an extraordinarily plucky chap." Wratislaw spoke irritably, for +it seemed to him sheer folly. + +Lewis looked at him imploringly. "Can you not understand?" he cried. + +Wratislaw did understand, and suddenly. The problem was subtler than he +had thought. Weakness was at the core of it, weakness revealed in +self-deception and self-accusation alike, the weakness of the finical +dreamer, the man with the unrobust conscience. But the weakness which +Lewis arraigned himself on was the very obvious failing of the diffident +and the irresolute. Wratislaw tried the path of boisterous +encouragement. + +"Get up, you old fool, and come down to the house. You a coward! You +are simply a romancer with an unfortunate knack of tragedy." The man +must be laughed out of this folly. If he were not he would show the +self-accusing front to the world, and the Manorwaters, Alice, +Stocks--all save his chosen intimates--would credit him with a cowardice +of which he had no taint. + +Arthur and George, resigned now to the inevitable lady, had seen in the +incident only the anxiety of a man for his beloved, and just a hint of +the ungenerous in his treatment of Mr. Stocks. They were not prepared +for the silent tragic figure which Wratislaw brought with him. + +Arthur had a glint of the truth, but the obtuse George saw nothing. "Do +you know that you are going to have the Wisharts for neighbours for a +couple of months yet? Old Wishart has taken Glenavelin from the end of +August." + +This would have been pleasant hearing at another time, but now it simply +drove home the nail of his bitter reflections. Alice would be near him, +a terrible reproach--she, the devotee of strength and competence. He +could not win her, and it is characteristic of the man that he had +ceased to think of Mr. Stocks as his rival. He would lose her to no +rival; to his ragged incapacity alone would his ill fortune be due. + +He struggled to act the part of the cheerful host, and Wratislaw watched +his efforts grimly. He ate little at dinner, showed no desire to smoke, +and played billiards so badly that Wratislaw, an execrable player, won +the first and last game of his life. The victor took him out of doors +thereafter to walk on the moonlit, fragrant lawn. + +"You are taking things to heart," said he. + +"And I'm blessed if I can understand you. To me it's sheer mania." + +"And to me it's the last link in a chain. I have suspected myself for +long, now I know myself and--ugh! the knowledge is a hideous thing." + +Wratislaw stood regarding his companion seriously. "I wonder what will +happen to you, Lewie. Life is serious enough without inventing a +crotchety virtue to make it miserable." + +"Can't you understand me, Tommy? It isn't that I'm a cad, it's that I +am a coward. I couldn't be a cad supposing I tried. These things are a +matter chiefly of blood and bone, and I am not made that way. But God +help me! I am a coward. I can't fight worth twopence. Look at my +performance a fortnight ago. The ordinary gardener's boy can beat me at +making love. I am full of generous impulses and sentiments, but what's +the use of them? Everything grows cold and I am a dumb icicle when it +comes to action. I knew all this before, but I thought I had kept my +bodily courage. I've had a good enough training, and I used to have +pluck." + +"But you don't mean to tell me that it was funk that kept you out of the +pool to-day?" cried the impatient Wratislaw. + +"How do I know that it wasn't?" came the wretched answer. + +Wratislaw turned on his heel and made to go back. + +"You're an infernal idiot, Lewie, and an infernal child. Thank heaven! +your friends know you better than you know yourself." + +The next morning it was a different man who came down to breakfast. He +had lost his haggard air, and seemed to have forgotten the night's +episode. + +"Was I very rude to everybody last night?" he asked. "I have a vague +recollection of playing the fool." + +"You were particularly rude about yourself," said Wratislaw. + +The young man laughed. "It's a way I have sometimes. It's an awkward +thing when a man's foes are of his own household." + +The others seemed to see a catch in his mirth, a ring as of something +hollow. He opened some letters, and looked up from one with a twitching +face and a curious droop of the eyelids. "Miss Wishart is all right," +he said. "My aunt says that she is none the worse, but that Stocks has +caught a tremendous cold. An unromantic ending!" + +The meal ended, they wandered out to the lawn to smoke, and Wratislaw +found himself standing with a hand on his host's shoulder. He noticed +something distraught in his glance and air. + +"Are you fit again to-day?" he asked. + +"Quite fit, thanks," said Lewis, but his face belied him. He had +forgiven himself the incident of yesterday, but no proof of a non +sequitur could make him relinquish his dismal verdict. The wide morning +landscape lay green and soothing at his feet. Down in the glen men were +winning the bog-hay; up on the hill slopes they were driving lambs; the +Avelin hurried to the Gled, and beyond was the great ocean and the +infinite works of man. The whole brave bustling world was astir, little +and great ships hasting out of port, the soldier scaling the breach, the +adventurer travelling the deserts. And he, the fool, had no share in +this braggart heritage. He could not dare to look a man straight in the +face, for like the king in the old fable he had lost his soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A GENTLEMAN IN STRAITS + + +The fall of the leaf found Etterick very full of people, and new +dwellers in Glenavelin. The invitations were of old standing, but Lewis +found their fulfilment a pleasant trick of Fortune's. To keep a +bustling household in good spirits leaves small room for brooding, and +he was famous for his hospitality. The partridges were plentiful that +year, and a rainless autumn had come on the heels of a fine summer. So +life went pleasantly with all, and the master of the place cloaked a +very sick heart under a ready good-humour. + +His thoughts were always on Glenavelin, and when he happened to be near +it he used to look with anxious eyes for a slim figure which was rarely +out of his fancy. He had not seen Alice since the accident, save for +one short minute, when riding from Gledsmuir he had passed her one +afternoon at the Glenavelin gates. He had earnestly desired to stop, +but his curious cowardice had made him pass with a lifted hat and a +hasty smile. Could he have looked back, he might have seen the girl +watching him out of sight with tearful eyes. To himself he was the +hopeless lover, and she the scornful lady, while she in her own eyes was +the unhappy girl for whom the soldier in the song shakes his bridle +reins and cries an eternal adieu. + +Matters did not improve when the Manorwaters left and Mr. Wishart +himself came down, bringing with him Stocks, a certain Mr. Andrews and +his wife, and an excellent young man called Thompson. All were pleasant +people, with the manners which the world calls hearty, well-groomed, +presentable folk, who enjoyed this life and looked forward to a better. + +Mr. Wishart explored the place thoroughly the first evening, and +explained that he was thankful indeed that he had been led to take it. +He was a handsome man with a worn, elderly face, a square jaw and +somewhat weary eyes. It is given to few men to make a great fortune and +not bear the signs of it on their persons. + +"I expect you enjoyed staying with Lady Manorwater, Alice?" Mrs. +Andrews declared at dinner. "They are very plain people, aren't they, +to be such great aristocrats? + +"I suppose so," said the girl listlessly. + +"I once met Lady Manorwater at Mrs. Cookson's at afternoon tea. I +thought she was badly dressed. You know Manorwater, don't you, George?" +said the lady to her husband, with the boldness which comes from the use +of a peer's name without the handle. + +"Oh yes, I know him well. I have met him at the Liberal Club dinners, +and I was his chairman once when he spoke on Irish affairs. A +delightful man!" + +"I suppose they would have a pleasant house-party when you were here, my +dear?" asked the lady. "And of course you had the election. What fun! +And what a victory for you, Mr. Stocks! I hear you beat the greatest +landowner in the district." + +Mr. Stocks smiled and glanced at Alice. The girl flushed; she could +not help it; and she hated Mr. Stocks for his look. + +Her father spoke for the first time. "What is the young man like, Mr. +Stocks? I hear he is very proud and foolish, the sort of over-educated +type which the world has no use for." + +"I like him," said Mr. Stocks dishonestly. "He fought like a +gentleman." + +"These people are so rarely gentlemen," said Mrs. Andrews, proud of her +high attitude. "I suppose his father made his money in coal and bought +the land from some poor dear old aristocrat. It is so sad to think of +it. And that sort of person is always over-educated, for you see they +have not the spirit of the old families and they bury themselves in +books." Mrs. Andrews's father had kept a crockery shop, but his +daughter had buried the memory. + +Mr. Wishart frowned. The lady had been asked down for her husband's +sake, and he did not approve of this chatter about family. Mr. Stocks, +who was about to explain the Haystoun pedigree, caught his host's eye +and left the dangerous subject untouched. + +"You said in your letters that they had been kind to you at this young +man's place. We must ask him down here to dinner, Alice. Oh, and that +reminds me I found a letter from him to-day asking me to shoot. I don't +go in for that sort of thing, but you young fellows had better try it." + +Mr. Stocks declined, said he had given it up. Mr. Thompson said, +"Upon my word I should like to," and privately vowed to forget the +invitation. He distrusted his prowess with a gun. + +"By the by, was he not at the picnic when you saved my daughter's life? +I can never thank you enough, Stocks. What should I have done without +my small girl?" + +"Yes, he was there. In fact he was with Miss Alice at the moment she +slipped." + +He may not have meant it, but the imputation was clear, and it stirred +one fiery expostulation. "Oh, but he hadn't time before Mr. Stocks +came after me," she began, and then feeling it ungracious towards that +gentleman to make him share a possibility of heroism with another, she +was silent. More, a lurking fear which had never grown large enough for +a suspicion, began to catch at her heart. Was it possible that Lewis +had held back? + +For a moment the candle-lit room vanished from her eyes. She saw the +warm ledge of rock with the rowan berries above. She saw his flushed, +eager face--it was her last memory before she had fallen. Surely +never--never was there cowardice in those eyes! + +Mrs. Andrews's vulgarities and her husband's vain repetitions began to +pall upon the anxious girl. The young Mr. Thompson talked shrewdly +enough on things of business, and Mr. Stocks abated something of his +pomposity and was honestly amiable. These were her own people, the +workers for whom she had craved. And yet--were they so desirable? Her +father's grave, keen face pleased her always, but what of the others? +The radiant gentlewomen whom she had met with the Manorwaters seemed to +belong to another world than this of petty social struggling and awkward +ostentation. And the men! Doubtless they were foolish, dilettanti, +barbarians of sport, half-hearted and unpractical! And she shut her +heart to any voice which would defend them. + +Lewis drove over to dine some four days later with dismal presentiments. +The same hopeless self-contempt which had hung over him for weeks was +still weighing on his soul. He dreaded the verdict of Alice's eyes, and +in a heart which held only kindness he looked for a cold criticism. It +was this despair which made his position hopeless. He would never take +his chance; there could be no opportunity for the truth to become clear +to both; for in his plate-armour of despair he was shielded against the +world. Such was his condition to the eyes of a friend; to himself he +was the common hopeless lover who sighed for a stony mistress. + +He noticed changes in Glenavelin. Businesslike leather pouches stood in +the hall, and an unwontedly large pile of letters lay on a table. The +drawing-room was the same as ever, but in the dining-room an escritoire +had been established which groaned under a burden of papers. Mr. +Wishart puzzled and repelled him. It was a strong face, but a cold and +a stupid one, and his eyes had the glassy hardness of the man without +vision. He was bidden welcome, and thanked in a tactless way for his +kindness to Mr. Wishart's daughter. Then he was presented to Mrs. +Andrews, and his courage sank as he bowed to her. + +At table the lady twitted him with graceful badinage. "Alice and you +must have had a gay time, Mr. Haystoun. Why, you've been seeing each +other constantly for months. Have you become great friends?" She +exerted herself, for, though he might be a parvenu, he was undeniably +handsome. + +Mr. Stocks explained that Mr. Haystoun had organized wonderful picnic +parties. The lady clapped her many-ringed hands, and declared that he +must repeat the experiment. "For I love picnics," she said, "I love the +simplicity and the fresh air and the rippling streams. And washing up +is fun, and it is such a great chance for you young men." And she cast a +coy glance over her shoulder. + +"Do you live far off, Mr. Haystoun?" she asked repeatedly. "Four +miles? Oh, that's next door. We shall come and see you some day. We +have just been staying with the Marshams--Mr. Marsham, you know, the +big cotton people. Very vulgar, but the house is charming. It was so +exciting, for the elections were on, and the Hestons, who are the great +people in that part of the country, were always calling. Dear Lady +Julia is so clever. Did you ever meet Mr. Marsham, by any chance?" + +"Not that I remember. I know the Hestons of course. Julia is my +cousin." + +The lady was silenced. "But I thought," she murmured. "I thought--they +were--" She broke off with a cough. + +"Yes, I spent a good many of my school holidays at Heston." + +Alice broke in with a question about the Manorwaters. The youthful Mr. +Thompson, who, apart from his solicitor's profession, was a devotee of +cricket, asked in a lofty way if Mr. Haystoun cared for the game. + +"I do rather. I'm not very good, but we raised an eleven this year in +the glen which beat Gledsmuir." + +The notion pleased the gentleman. If a second match could be arranged +he might play and show his prowess. In all likelihood this solemn and +bookish laird, presumably brought up at home, would be a poor enough +player. + +"I played a lot at school," he said. "In fact I was in the Eleven for +two years and I played in the Authentics match, and once against the +Eton Ramblers. A strong lot they were." + +"Let me see. Was that about seven years ago? I seem to remember." + +"Seven years ago," said Mr. Thompson. "But why? Did you see the +match?" + +"No, I wasn't in the match; I had twisted my ankle, jumping. But I +captained the Ramblers that season, so I remember it." + +Respect grew large in Mr. Thompson's eyes. Here were modesty and +distinction equally mated. The picture of the shy student had gone from +his memory. + +"If you like to come up to Etterick we might get up a match from the +village," said Lewis courteously. "Ourselves with the foresters and +keepers against the villagers wouldn't be a bad arrangement." + +To Alice the whole conversation struck a jarring note. His eye kindled +and he talked freely on sport. Was it not but a new token of his +incurable levity? Mr. Wishart, who had understood little of the talk, +found in this young man strange stuff to shape to a politician's ends. +Contrasted with the gravity of Mr. Stocks, it was a schoolboy beside a +master. + +"I have been reading," he said slowly, "reading a speech of the new +Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs. I cannot understand the temper of +mind which it illustrates. He talks of the Bosnian war, and a brave +people struggling for freedom, as if it were merely a move in some +hideous diplomatists' game. A man of that sort cannot understand a +moral purpose." + +"Tommy--I mean to say Mr. Wratislaw--doesn't believe in Bosnian +freedom, but you know he is a most ardent moralist." + +"I do not understand," said Mr. Wishart drily. + +"I mean that personally he is a Puritan, a man who tries every action of +his life by a moral standard. But he believes that moral standards vary +with circumstances." + +"Pernicious stuff, sir. There is one moral law. There is one Table of +Commandments." + +"But surely you must translate the Commandments into the language of the +occasion. You do not believe that 'Thou shalt not kill' is absolute in +every case?" + +"I mean that except in the God-appointed necessity of war, and in the +serving of criminal justice, killing is murder." + +"Suppose a man goes travelling," said Lewis with abstracted eyes, "and +has a lot of native servants. They mutiny, and he shoots down one or +two. He saves his life, he serves, probably, the ends of civilization. +Do you call that murder?" + +"Assuredly. Better, far better that he should perish in the wilderness +than that he should take the law into his own hands and kill one of +God's creatures." + +"But law, you know, is not an absolute word." + +Mr. Wishart scented danger. "I can't argue against your subtleties, +but my mind is clear; and I can respect no man who could think +otherwise." + +Lewis reddened and looked appealingly at Alice. She, too, was +uncomfortable. Her opinions sounded less convincing when stated +dogmatically by her father. + +Mr. Stocks saw his chance and took it. + +"Did you ever happen to be in such a crisis as you speak of, Mr. +Haystoun? You have travelled a great deal." + +"I have never had occasion to put a man to death," said Lewis, seeing +the snare and scorning to avoid it. + +"But you have had difficulties?" + +"Once I had to flog a couple of men. It was not pleasant, and worst of +all it did no good." + +"Irrational violence seldom does," grunted Mr. Wishart. + +"No, for, as I was going to say, it was a clear case where the men +should have been put to death. They had deserved it, for they had +disobeyed me, and by their disobedience caused the death of several +innocent people. They decamped shortly afterwards, and all but managed +to block our path. I blame myself still for not hanging them." + +A deep silence hung over the table. Mr. Wishart and the Andrews stared +with uncomprehending faces. Mr. Stocks studied his plate, and Alice +looked on the speaker with eyes in which unwilling respect strove with +consternation. + +Only the culprit was at his ease. The discomfort of these good people +for a moment amused him. Then the sight of Alice's face, which he +wholly misread, brought him back to decent manners. + +"I am afraid I have shocked you," he said simply. "If one knocks about +the world one gets a different point of view." + +Mr. Wishart restrained a flood of indignation with an effort. "We +won't speak on the subject," he said. "I confess I have my prejudices." + +Mr. Stocks assented with a smile and a sigh. In the drawing-room +afterwards Lewis was presented with the olive-branch of peace. He had +to attend Mrs. Andrews to the piano and listen to her singing of a +sentimental ballad with the face of a man in the process of enjoyment. +Soon he pleaded the four miles of distance and the dark night, and took +his leave. His spirits had in a measure returned. Alice had not been +gracious, but she had shown no scorn. And her spell at the first sight +of her was woven a thousand-fold over his heart. + +He found her alone for one moment in the hall. + +"Alice--Miss Wishart, may I come and see you? It is a pity such near +neighbours should see so little of each other." + +His hesitation made him cloak a despairing request in the garb of a +conventional farewell. + +The girl had the sense to pierce the disguise. "You may come and see +us, if you like, Mr. Haystoun. We shall be at home all next week." + +"I shall come very soon," he cried, and he was whirled away from the +light; with the girl's face framed in the arch of the doorway making a +picture for his memory. + + * * * * * + +When the others had gone to bed, Stocks and Mr. Wishart sat up over a +last pipe by the smoking-room fire. + +The younger man moved uneasily in his chair. He had something to say +which had long lain on his mind, and he was uncertain of its reception. + +"You have been for a long time my friend, Mr. Wishart," he began. "You +have done me a thousand kindnesses, and I only hope I have not proved +myself unworthy of them." + +Mr. Wishart raised his eyebrows at the peculiar words. "Certainly you +have not," he said. "I regard you as the most promising by far of the +younger men of my acquaintance, and any little services I may have +rendered have been amply repaid me." + +The younger man bowed and looked into the fire. + +"It is very kind of you to speak so," he said. "I have been wondering +whether I might not ask for a further kindness, the greatest favour +which you could confer upon me. Have you made any plans for your +daughter's future?" + +Mr. Wishart sat up stiffly on the instant. "You mean?" he said. + +"I mean that I love Alice ... your daughter ... and I wish to make +her my wife. If you will give me your consent, I will ask her." + +"But--but," said the old man, stammering. "Does the girl know anything +of this?" + +"She knows that I love her, and I think she will not be unkind." + +"I don't know that I object," said Mr. Wishart after a long pause. "In +fact I am very willing, and I am very glad that you had the good manners +to speak to me first. Yes, upon my word, sir, I am pleased. You have +had a creditable career, and your future promises well. My girl will +help you, for though I say it, she will not be ill-provided for. I +respect your character and I admire your principles, and I give you my +heartiest good wishes." + +Mr. Stocks rose and held out his hand. He felt that the interview +could not be prolonged in the present fervour of gratitude. + +"Had it been that young Haystoun now," said Mr. Wishart, "I should +never have given my consent. I resolved long ago that my daughter +should never marry an idle man. I am a plain man, and I care nothing +for social distinctions." + +But as Mr. Stocks left the room the plain man glanced after him, and +sitting back suffered a moment's reflection. The form of this worker +contrasted in his mind with the figure of the idler who had that evening +graced his table. A fool, doubtless, but a fool with an air and a +manner! And for one second he allowed himself to regret that he was to +acquire so unromantic a son-in-law. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE NEMESIS OF A COWARD + + +Two days later the Andrews drove up the glen to Etterick, taking with +them the unwilling Mr. Wishart. Alice had escaped the ordeal with some +feigned excuse, and the unfortunate Mr. Thompson, deeply grieving, had +been summoned by telegram from cricket to law. The lady had chattered +all the way up the winding moorland road, crying out banalities about +the pretty landscape, or questioning her very ignorant companions about +the dwellers in Etterick. She was full of praises for the house when it +came in view; it was "quaint," it was "charming," it was everything +inappropriate. But the amiable woman's prattle deserted her when she +found herself in the cold stone hall with the great portraits and the +lack of all modern frippery. It was so plainly a man's house, so +clearly a place of tradition, that her pert modern speech seemed for one +moment a fatuity. + +It was an off-day for the shooters, and so for a miracle there were men +in the drawing-room at tea-time. The hostess for the time was an aunt +of Lewis's, a certain Mrs. Alderson, whose husband (the famous big-game +hunter) had but recently returned from the jaws of a Zambesi lion. +George's sister, Lady Clanroyden, a tall, handsome girl in a white +frock, was arranging flowers in a bowl, and on the sill of the open +window two men were basking in the sun. From the inner drawing-room +there came an echo of voices and laughter. The whole scene was sunny +and cheerful, youth and age, gay frocks and pleasant faces amid the old +tapestry and mahogany of a moorland house. + +Mr. Andrews sat down solemnly to talk of the weather with the two men, +who found him a little dismal. One--he of the Zambesi lion episode--was +grizzled, phlegmatic, and patient, and in no way critical of his +company. So soon he was embarked on extracts from his own experience to +which Mr. Andrews, who had shares in some company in the neighbourhood, +listened with flattering attention. Mrs. Alderson set herself to +entertain Mr. Wishart, and being a kindly, simple person, found the +task easy. They were soon engaged in an earnest discussion of +unsectarian charities. + +Lady Clanroyden, with an unwilling sense of duty, devoted herself to +Mrs. Andrews. That simpering matron fell into a vein of confidences +and in five brief minutes had laid bare her heart. Then came the +narrative of her recent visit to the Marshams, and the inevitable +mention of the Hestons. + +"Oh, you know the Hestons?" said Lady Clanroyden, brightening. + +"Very well indeed." The lady smiled, looking round to make sure that +Lewis was not in the room. + +"Julia is here, you know. Julia, come and speak to your friends." + +A dark girl in mourning came forward to meet the expansive smile of Mrs. +Andrews. Earnestly the lady hoped that she remembered the single brief +meeting on which she had built a fictitious acquaintance, and was +reassured when the newcomer shook hands with her pleasantly. Truth to +tell, Lady Julia had no remembrance of her face, but was too +good-natured to be honest. + +"And how is your dear mother? I was so sorry to hear from a mutual +friend that she had been unwell." How thankful she was that she read +each week various papers which reported people's doings! + +A sense of bewilderment lurked in her heart. Who was this Lewis +Haystoun who owned such a house and such a kindred? The hypothesis of +money made in coal seemed insufficient, and with much curiosity she set +herself to solve the problem. + +"Is Mr. Haystoun coming back to tea?" she asked by way of a preface. + +"No, he has had to go to Gledsmuir. We are all idle this afternoon, but +he has a landowner's responsibilities." + +"Have his family been here long? I seem never to have heard the name." + +Lady Clanroyden looked a little surprised. "Yes, they have been rather +a while. I forget how many centuries, but a good many. It was about +this place, you know, that the old ballad of 'The Riding of Etterick' +was made, and a Haystoun was the hero." + +Mrs. Andrews knew nothing about old ballads, but she feigned a happy +reminiscence. + +"It is so sad his being beaten by Mr. Stocks," she declared. "Of +course an old county family should provide the members for a district. +They have the hearts of the people with them." + +"Then the hearts of the people have a funny way of revealing +themselves," Lady Clanroyden laughed. "I'm not at all sorry that Lewie +was beaten. He is the best man in the world, but one wants to shake him +up. His motto is 'Thole,' and he gets too few opportunities of +'tholing.'" + +"You all call him 'Lewie,'" commented the lady. "How popular he must +be!" + +Mabel Clanroyden laughed. "I have known him ever since I was a small +girl in a short frock and straight-brushed hair. He was never anything +else than Lewie to his friends. Oh, here is my wandering brother and my +only son returned," and she rose to catch up a small, self-possessed boy +of some six years, who led the flushed and reluctant George in tow. + +The small boy was very dirty, ruddy and cheerful. He had torn his +blouse, and scratched his brow, and the crown of his straw hat had +parted company with the brim. + +"George," said his sister severely, "have you been corrupting the +manners of my son? Where have you been?" + +The boy--he rejoiced in the sounding name of Archibald--slapped a small +leg with a miniature whip, and counterfeited with great skill the pose +of the stable-yard. He slowly unclenched a smutty fist and revealed +three separate shillings. + +"I won um myself," he explained. + +"Is it highway robbery?" asked his mother with horrified eyes. +"Archibald, have you stopped a coach, or held up a bus or anything of +the kind?" + +The child unclenched his hand again, beamed on his prize, smiled +knowingly at the world, and shut it. + +"What has the dreadful boy been after? Oh, tell me, George, please. I +will try to bear it." + +"We fell in with a Sunday-school picnic along in the glen, and Archie +made me take him there. And he had tea--I hope the little chap won't be +ill, by the by. And he made a speech or a recitation or something of +the sort. Nobody understood it, but it went down like anything." + +"And do you mean to say that the people gave him money, and you allowed +him to take it?" asked an outraged mother. + +"He won it," said George. "Won it in fair fight. He was second in the +race under twelve, and first in the race under ten. They gave him a +decent handicap, and he simply romped home. That chap can run, Mabel. +He tried the sack race, too, but the first time he slipped altogether +inside the thing and had to be taken out, yelling. But he stuck to it +like a Trojan, and at the second shot he got started all right, and +would have won it if he hadn't lost his head and rolled down a bank. He +isn't scratched much, considering he fell among whins. That also +explains the state of his hat." + +"George, you shall never, never, as long as I live, take my son out with +you again. It is a wonder the poor child escaped with his life. You +have not a scrap of feeling. I must take the boy away or he will shame +me before everybody. Come and talk to Mrs. Andrews, George. May I +introduce my brother, Mr. Winterham?" + +George, who wanted to smoke, sat down unwillingly in the chair which his +sister had left. The lady, whose airs and graces were all for men, put +on her most bewitching manner. + +"Your sister and I have just been talking about this exquisite place, +Mr. Winterham. It must be delightful to live in such a centre of old +romance. That lovely 'Riding of Etterick' has been running in my head +all the way up." + +George privately wondered at the confession. The peculiarly tragic and +ghastly fragments which made up "The Riding of Etterick," seemed +scarcely suited to haunt a lady's memory. + +"Had you a long drive?" he asked in despair for a topic. + +"Only from Glenavelin." + +He awoke to interest. "Are you staying at Glenavelin just now? The +Wisharts are in it, are they not? We were a great deal about the place +when the Manorwaters were there." + +"Oh yes. I have heard about Lady Manorwater from Alice Wishart. She +must be a charming woman; Alice cannot speak enough about her." + +George's face brightened. "Miss Wishart is a great friend of mine, and +a most awfully good sort." + +"And as you are a great friend of hers I think I may tell you a great +secret," and the lady patted him playfully. "Our pretty Alice is going +to be married." + +George was thoroughly roused to attention. "Who is the man?" he asked +sharply. + +"I think I may tell you," said Mrs. Andrews, enjoying her sense of +importance. "It is Mr. Stocks, the new member." + +George restrained with difficulty a very natural oath. Then he looked +at his informant and saw in her face only silliness and truth. For the +good woman had indeed persuaded herself of the verity of her fancy. Mr. +Stocks had told her that he had her father's consent and good wishes, +and misinterpreting the girl's manner she had considered the affair +settled. + +It was unfortunate that Mr. Wishart at this moment showed such obvious +signs of restlessness that the lady rose to take her leave, otherwise +George might have learned the truth. After the Glenavelin party had +gone he wandered out to the lawn, pulling his moustache in vast +perplexity and cursing the twisted world. He had no guess at Lewis's +manner of wooing; to him it had seemed the simple, straightforward love +which he thought beyond resistance. And now, when he learned of this +melancholy issue, he was sore at heart for his friend. + +He was awakened from his reverie by Lewis himself, who, having ridden +straight to the stables, was now sauntering towards the house. A trim +man looks at his best in riding clothes, and Lewis was no exception. He +was flushed with sun and motion, his spirits were high, for all the +journey he had been dreaming of a coming meeting with Alice, and the +hope which had suddenly increased a thousand-fold. George marked his +mood, and with a regret at his new role caught him by the arm and +checked him. + +"I say, old man, don't go in just yet. I want to tell you something, +and I think you had better hear it now." + +Lewis turned obediently, amazed by the gravity of his friend's face. + +"Some people came up from Glenavelin this afternoon and among them a +Mrs. Andrews, whom I had a talk to. She told me that Al--Miss Wishart +is engaged to that fellow Stocks." + +Lewis's face whitened and he turned away his eyes. He could not credit +it. Two days ago she had been free; he could swear it; he remembered +her eyes at parting. Then came the thought of his blindness, and in a +great horror of self-mistrust he seemed to see throughout it all his +criminal folly. He, poor fool, had been pleasing himself with dreams of +a meeting, when all the while the other man had been the real lover. +She had despised him, spared not a thought for him save as a pleasing +idler; and he--that he should ever have ventured for one second to hope! +Curiously enough, for the first time he thought of Stocks with respect; +to have won the girl seemed in itself the proof of dignity and worth. + +"Thanks very much for telling me. I am glad I know. No, I don't think +I'll go into the house yet." + + * * * * * + +The days passed and Alice waited with anxious heart for the coming of +the very laggard Lewis. To-day he will come, she said each morning; and +evening found her--poor heart!--still expectant. She told herself a +thousand times that it was sheer folly. He meant nothing, it was a mere +fashion of speech; and then her heart would revolt and bid common sense +be silent. He came indeed with some of the Etterick party on a formal +call, but this was clearly not the fulfilment of his promise. So the +girl waited and despaired, while the truant at Etterick was breaking his +heart for the unattainable. + +Mr. Stocks, having won the official consent, conducted his suit with +commendable discretion. Suit is the word for the performance, so full +was it of elaborate punctilios. He never intruded upon her unhappiness. +A studied courtesy, a distant thoughtfulness were his only compliments. +But when he found her gayer, then would he strive with subtle delicacies +of manner to make clear the part he desired to play. + +The girl saw his kindness and was grateful. In the revulsion against +the Andrews he seemed a link with the more pleasant sides of life, and +soon in her despair and anger his modest merits took heroic proportions +in her eyes. She forgot her past dislike; she thought only of this, the +simple good man, contrasted with the showy and fickle-hearted--true +metal against glittering tinsel. His very weaknesses seemed homely and +venial. He was of her own world, akin to the things which deep down in +her soul she knew she must love to the last. It is to the credit of the +man's insight that he saw the mood and took pains to foster it. + +Twice he asked her to marry him. The first time her heart was still +sore with disappointment and she refused--yet half-heartedly. + +He waited his time and when the natural cheerfulness of her temper was +beginning to rise, he again tried his fortune. + +"I cannot," she cried. "I cannot. I like you very much, but oh, it is +too much to ask me to marry you." + +"But I love you with all my heart, Alice." And the honesty of his tone +and the distant thought of a very different hope brought the tears to +her eyes. + +He had forgotten all pompous dreams and the stilted prospects with which +he had aforetime hoped to beguile his wife. The man was plain and +simple now, a being very much on fire with an honest passion. He may +have left her love-cold, but he touched the sympathy which in a true +woman is love's nearest neighbour. Before she knew herself she had +promised, and had been kissed respectfully and tenderly by her delighted +lover. For a moment she felt something like joy, and then, with a +dreadful thought of the baselessness of her pleasure, walked slowly +homewards by his side. + + * * * * * + +The next morning Alice rose with a dreary sense of the irrevocable. A +door seemed to have closed behind her, and the future stretched before +her in a straight dusty path with few nooks and shadows. This was not +the blithe morning of betrothal she had looked for. The rapturous +outlook on life which she had dreamed of was replaced by a cold and +business-like calculation of profits. The rose garden of the "god +unconquered in battle" was exchanged for a very shoddy and huckstering +paradise. + +Mrs. Andrews claimed her company all the morning, and with the +pertinacity of her kind soon guessed the very obvious secret. Her +gushing congratulations drove the girl distracted. She praised the good +Stocks, and Alice drank in the comfort of such words with greedy ears. +From one young man she passed to another, and hung lovingly over the +perfections of Mr. Haystoun. "He has the real distinction, dear," she +cried, "which you can never mistake. It only belongs to old blood and +it is quite inimitable. His friends are so charming, too, and you can +always tell a man by his people. It is so pleasant to fall in with old +acquaintances again. That dear Lady Clanroyden promised to come over +soon. I quite long to see her, for I feel as if I had known her for +ages." + +After lunch Alice fled the house and sought her old refuge--the hills. +There she would find the deep solitude for thought. She was not +broken-hearted, though she grieved now and again with a blind longing of +regret. But she was confused and shaken; the landmarks of her vision +seemed to have been removed, and she had to face the grim narrowing-down +of hopes which is the sternest trial for poor mortality. + +Autumn's hand was lying heavy on the hillsides. Bracken was yellowing, +heather passing from bloom, and the clumps of wild-wood taking the soft +russet and purple of decline. Faint odours of wood smoke seemed to flit +over the moor, and the sharp lines of the hill fastnesses were drawn as +with a graving-tool against the sky. She resolved to go to the Midburn +and climb up the cleft, for the place was still a centre of memory. So +she kept for a mile to the Etterick road, till she came in view of the +little stone bridge where the highway spans the moorland waters. + +There had been intruders in Paradise before her. Broken bottles and +scraps of paper were defacing the hill turf, and when she turned to get +to the water's edge she found the rushy coverts trampled on every side. +From somewhere among the trees came the sound of singing--a silly +music-hall catch. It was a sharp surprise, and the girl, in horror at +the profanation, was turning in all haste to leave. + +But the Fates had prepared an adventure. Three half-tipsy men came +swinging down the slope, their arms linked together, and bowlers set +rakishly on the backs of their heads. They kept up the chorus of the +song which was being sung elsewhere, and they suited their rolling gait +to the measure. + +"For it ain't Maria," came the tender melody; and the reassuring phrase +was repeated a dozen times. Then by ill-luck they caught sight of the +astonished Alice, and dropping their musical efforts they hailed her +familiarly. Clearly they were the stragglers of some picnic from the +town, the engaging type of gentleman who on such occasions is drunk by +midday. They were dressed in ill-fitting Sunday clothes, great flowers +beamed from their button-holes, and after the fashion of their kind +their waistcoats were unbuttoned for comfort. The girl tried to go back +by the way she had come, but to her horror she found that she was +intercepted. The three gentlemen commanded her retreat. + +They seemed comparatively sober, so she tried entreaty. "Please, let me +pass," she said pleasantly. "I find I have taken the wrong road." + +"No, you haven't, dearie," said one of the men, who from a superior +neatness of apparel might have been a clerk. "You've come the right +road, for you've met us. And now you're not going away." And he came +forward with a protecting arm. + +Alice, genuinely frightened, tried to cross the stream and escape by the +other side. But the crossing was difficult, and she slipped at the +outset and wet her ankles. One of the three lurched into the water +after her, and withdrew with sundry oaths. + +The poor girl was in sad perplexity. Before was an ugly rush of water +and a leap beyond her strength; behind, three drunken men, their mouths +full of endearment and scurrility. She looked despairingly to the level +white road for the Perseus who should deliver her. + +And to her joy the deliverer was not wanting. In the thick of the idiot +shouting of the trio there came the clink-clank of a horse's feet and a +young man came over the bridge. He saw the picture at a glance and its +meaning; and it took him short time to be on his feet and then over the +broken stone wall to the waterside. Suddenly to the girl's delight +there appeared at the back of the roughs the inquiring, sunburnt face of +Lewis. + +The men turned and stared with hanging jaws. "Now, what the dickens is +this?" he cried, and catching two of their necks he pulled their heads +together and then flung them apart. + +The three seemed sobered by the apparition. "And what the h-ll is your +business?" they cried conjointly; and one, a dark-browed fellow, doubled +his fists and advanced. + +Lewis stood regarding them with a smiling face and very bright, cross +eyes. "Are you by way of insulting this lady? If you weren't drunk, +I'd teach you manners. Get out of this in case I forget myself." + +For answer the foremost of the men hit out. A glance convinced Lewis +that there was enough sobriety to make a fight of it. "Miss +Wishart ... Alice," he cried, "come back and go down to the road +and see to my horse, please. I'll be down in a second." + +The girl obeyed, and so it fell out that there was no witness to that +burn-side encounter. It was a complex fight and it lasted for more than +a second. Two of the men had the grace to feel ashamed of themselves +half-way through, and retired from the contest with shaky limbs and +aching faces. The third had to be assisted to his feet in the end by +his antagonist. It was not a good fight, for the three were +pasty-faced, overgrown young men, in no training and stupid with liquor. +But they pressed hard on Lewis for a little, till he was compelled in +self-defence to treat them as fair opponents. + +He came down the road in a quarter of an hour with a huge rent in his +coat-sleeve and a small cut on his forehead. He was warm and +breathless, still righteously indignant at the event, and half-ashamed +of so degrading an encounter. He found the girl standing statue-like, +holding the bridle-rein, and looking into the distance with vacant eyes. + +"Are you going back to Glenavelin, Miss Wishart?" he asked. "I think I +had better go with you if you will allow me." + +Alice mutely assented and walked beside him while he led his horse. He +could think of nothing to say. The whole world lay between them now, +and there was no single word which either could speak without showing +some trace of the tragic separation. + +It was the girl who first broke the silence. + +"I want to thank you with all my heart," she stammered. And then by an +awkward intuition she looked in his face and saw written there all the +hopelessness and longing which he was striving to conceal. For one +moment she saw clearly, and then the crooked perplexities of the world +seemed to stare cruelly in her eyes. A sob caught her voice, and before +she was conscious of her action she laid a hand on Lewis's arm and burst +into tears. + +The sight was so unexpected that it deprived him of all power of action. +Then came the fatally easy solution that it was but reaction of +over-strained nerves. Always ill at ease in a woman's presence, a +woman's tears reduced him to despair. He stroked her hair gently as he +would have quieted a favourite horse. + +"I am so sorry that these brutes have frightened you. But here we are +at Glenavelin gates." + +And all the while his heart was crying out to him to clasp her in his +arms, and the words which trembled on his tongue were the passionate +consolations of a lover. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A MOVEMENT OF THE POWERS + + +At Mrs. Montrayner's dinner parties a world of silent men is sandwiched +between a _monde_ of chattering women. The hostess has a taste for busy +celebrities who eat their dinner without thought of the cookery, and +regard their fair neighbours much as the diners think of the band in a +restaurant. She chose her company with care, and if at her table there +was not the busy clack of a fluent conversation, there was always the +possibility of _bons mots_ and the off-chance of a State secret. So to +have dined with the Montrayners became a boast in a small social set, +and to the unilluminate the Montrayner banquets seemed scarce less +momentous than Cabinet meetings. + +Wratislaw found himself staring dully at a snowy bank of flowers and +looking listlessly at the faces beyond. He was extremely worried, and +his grey face and sunken eyes showed the labour he had been passing +through. The country was approaching the throes of a crisis, and as yet +the future was a blind alley to him. There was an autumn session, and +he had been badgered all the afternoon in the Commons; his even temper +had been perilously near its limits, and he had been betrayed +unconsciously into certain ineptitudes which he knew would grin in his +face on the morrow from a dozen leading articles. The Continent seemed +on the edge of an outbreak; in the East especially, Russia by a score of +petty acts had seemed to foreshadow an incomprehensible policy. It was +a powder-barrel waiting for the spark; and he felt dismally that the +spark might come at any moment from some unlooked-for quarter of the +globe. He ran over in his mind the position of foreign affairs. All +seemed vaguely safe; and yet he was conscious that all was vaguely +unsettled. The world was on the eve of one of its cyclic changes, and +unrest seemed to make the air murky. + +He tried to be polite and listened attentively to the lady on his right, +who was telling him the latest gossip about a certain famous marriage. +But his air was so manifestly artificial that she turned to the +presumably more attractive topic of his doings. + +"You look ill," she said--she was one who adopted the motherly air +towards young men, which only a pretty woman can use. "Are they +over-working you in the House?" + +"Pretty fair," and he smiled grimly. "But really I can't complain. I +have had eight hours' sleep in the last four days, and I don't think +Beauregard could say as much. Some day I shall break loose and go to a +quiet place and sleep for a week. Brittany would do--or Scotland." + +"I was in Scotland last week," she said. "I didn't find it quiet. It +was at one of those theatrical Highland houses where they pipe you to +sleep and pipe you to breakfast. I used to have to sit up all night by +the fire and read Marius the Epicurean, to compose myself. Did you ever +try the specific?" + +"No," he said, laughing. "I always soothe my nerves with Blue-books." + +She made a mouth at the thought. "And do you know I met such a nice man +up there, who said you were a great friend of his? His name was +Haystoun." + +"Do you remember his Christian name?" he asked. + +"Lewis," she said without hesitation. + +He laughed. "He is a man who should only have one name and that his +Christian one. I never heard him called 'Haystoun' in my life. How is +he?" + +"He seemed well, but he struck me as being at rather a loose end. What +is wrong with him? You know him well and can tell me. He seems to have +nothing to do; to have fallen out of his niche, you know. And he looks +so extraordinarily clever." + +"He _is_ extraordinarily clever. But if I undertook to tell you what +was wrong with Lewie Haystoun, I should never get to the House to-night. +The vitality of a great family has run to a close in him. He is strong +and able, and yet, unless the miracle of miracles happens, he will never +do anything. Two hundred years ago he might have led some mad Jacobite +plot to success. Three hundred and he might have been another Raleigh. +Six hundred, and there would have been a new crusade. But as it is, he +is out of harmony with his times; life is too easy and mannered; the +field for a man's courage is in petty and recondite things, and Lewie is +not fitted to understand it. And all this, you see, spells a kind of +cowardice: and if you have a friend who is a hero out of joint, a great +man smothered in the wrong sort of civilization, and all the while one +who is building up for himself with the world and in his own heart the +reputation of a coward, you naturally grow hot and bitter." + +The lady looked curiously at the speaker. She had never heard the +silent politician speak so earnestly before. + +"It seems to me a clear case of _chercher la femme_," said she. + +"That," said Wratislaw with emphasis, "is the needle-point of the whole +business. He has fallen in love with just the wrong sort of woman. +Very pretty, very good, a demure puritanical little Pharisee, clever +enough, too, to see Lewie's merits, too weak to hope to remedy them, and +too full of prejudice to accept them. There you have the makings of a +very pretty tragedy." + +"I am so sorry," said the lady. She was touched by this man's anxiety +for his friend, and Mr. Lewis Haystoun, whom she was never likely to +meet again, became a figure of interest in her eyes. She turned to say +something more, but Wratislaw, having unburdened his soul to some one, +and feeling a little relieved, was watching his chief's face further +down the table. That nobleman, hopelessly ill at ease, had given up the +pretence of amiability and was now making frantic endeavours to send +mute signals across the flowers to his under secretary. + +The Montrayner guests seldom linger. Within half an hour after the +ladies left the table Beauregard and Wratislaw were taking leave and +hurrying into their greatcoats. + +"You are going down to the House," said the elder man, "and I'll come +too. I want to have some talk with you. I tried to catch your eye at +dinner to get you to come round and deliver me from old Montrayner, for +I had to sit on his right hand and couldn't come round to you. +Heigho-ho! I wish I was a Trappist." + +The cab had turned out of Piccadilly into St. James's Street before +either man spoke again. The tossing lights of a windy autumn evening +were shimmering on the wet pavement, and faces looked spectral white in +the morris-dance of shine and shadow. Wratislaw, whose soul was sick +for high, clean winds and the great spaces of the moors, was thinking of +Glenavelin and Lewis and the strong, quickening north. His companion +was furrowing his brow over some knotty problem in his duties. + +In Pall Mall there was a lull in the noise, but neither seemed disposed +to talk. + +"We had better wait till we get to the House," said Beauregard. "We +must have peace, for I have got the most vexatious business to speak +about." And again he wrinkled his anxious brows and stared in front of +him. + +They entered a private room where the fire had burned itself out, and +the lights fell on heavy furniture and cheerless solitude. Beauregard +spread himself out in an arm-chair, and stared at the ceiling. +Wratislaw, knowing his chief's manners, stood before the blackened grate +and waited. + +"Fetch me an atlas--that big one, and find the map of the Indian +frontier." Wratislaw obeyed and stretched the huge folio on the table. + +The elder man ran his forefinger in a circle. + +"There--that wretched radius is the plague of my life. Our reports stop +short at that line, and reliable information begins again some hundreds +of miles north. Meanwhile--between?" And he shrugged his shoulders. + +"I got news to-day in a roundabout way from Taghati. That's the town +just within the Russian frontier there. It seems that the whole country +is in a ferment. The hill tribes are out and the Russian frontier line +is threatened. So they say. I have the actual names of the people who +are making the row. Russian troops are being massed along the line +there. The whole place, you know, has been for long a military beehive +and absurdly over-garrisoned, so there is no difficulty about the +massing. The difficulty lies in the reason. Three thousand square +miles or so of mountain cannot be so dangerous. One would think that +the whole Afghan nation was meditating a descent on the Amu Daria." He +glanced up at his companion, and the two men saw the same anxiety in +each other's eyes. + +"Anything more of Marka?" asked Wratislaw. + +"Nothing definite. He is somewhere in the Pamirs, up to some devilry or +other. Oh, by the by, there is something I have forgotten. I found out +the other day that our gentleman had been down quite recently in +south-west Kashmir. He was Arthur Marker at the time, the son of a +German count and a Scotch mother, you understand. Immensely popular, +too, among natives and Europeans alike. He went south from Bardur, and +apparently returned north by the Punjab. At Bardur, Logan and Thwaite +were immensely fascinated, Gribton remained doubtful. Now the good +Gribton is coming home, and so he will have the place for a happy +hunting-ground." + +Wratislaw was puffing his under-lip in deep thought. "It is a sweet +business," he said. "But what can we do? Only wait?" + +"Yes, one could wait if Marka were the only disquieting feature. But +what about Taghati and the Russian activity? What on earth is going on +or about to go on in this square inch of mountain land to make all the +pother? If it is a tribal war on a first-class scale then we must know +about it, for it is in the highest degree our concern too. If it is +anything else, things look more than doubtful. All the rest I don't +mind. It's open and obvious, and we are on the alert. But that little +bit of frontier there is so little known and apparently so remote that I +begin to be afraid of trouble in that direction. What do you think?" + +Wratislaw shook his head. He had no opinion to offer. + +"At any rate, you need fear no awkward questions in the House, for this +sort of thing cannot be public for months." + +"I am wondering whether somebody should not go out. Somebody quite +unofficial and sufficiently clever." + +"My thought too," said Beauregard. "The pinch is where to get our man +from. I have been casting up possibilities all day, and this one is too +clever, another too dull, another too timid, and another too +hare-brained." + +Wratislaw seemed sunk in a brown study. + +"Do you remember my telling you once about my friend Lewis Haystoun?" he +asked. + +"I remember perfectly. What made him get so badly beaten? He ought to +have won." + +"That's part of my point," said the other. "If I knew him less well +than I do I should say he was the man cut out by Providence for the +work. He has been to the place, he knows the ropes of travelling, he is +exceedingly well-informed, and he is uncommonly clever. But he is badly +off colour. The thing might be the saving of him, or the ruin--in which +case, of course, he would also be the ruin of the thing." + +"As risky as that?" Beauregard asked. "I have heard something of him, +but I thought it merely his youth. What's wrong with him?" + +"Oh, I can't tell. A thousand things, but all might be done away with +by a single chance like this. I tell you what I'll do. After to-night +I can be spared for a couple of days. I feel rather hipped myself, so I +shall get up to the north and see my man. I know the circumstances and +I know Lewis. If the two are likely to suit each other I have your +authority to give him your message?" + +"Certainly, my dear Wratislaw. I have all the confidence in the world +in your judgment. You will be back the day after to-morrow?" + +"I shall only be out of the House one night, and I think the game worth +it. I need not tell you that I am infernally anxious both about the +business and my friend. It is just on the cards that one might be the +solution of the other." + +"You understand everything?" + +"Everything. I promise you I shall be exacting enough. And now I had +better be looking after my own work." + +Beauregard stared after him as he went out of the room and remained for +a few minutes in deep thought. Then he deliberately wrote out a foreign +telegram form and rang the bell. + +"I fancy I know the man," he said to himself. "He will go. Meantime I +can prepare things for his passage." The telegram was to the fugitive +Gribton at Florence, asking him to meet a certain Mr. Haystoun at the +Embassy in Paris within a week for the discussion of a particular +question. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE BRINK OF THE RUBICON + + +The next evening Wratislaw drove in a hired dogcart up Glenavelin from +Gledsmuir just as a stormy autumn twilight was setting in over the bare +fields. A wild back-end had followed on the tracks of a marvellous +summer. Though it was still October the leaves lay heaped beneath the +hedgerows, the bracken had yellowed to a dismal hue of decay, and the +heather had turned from the purple of its flower to the grey-blue of its +passing. Rain had fallen, and the long road-side pools were fired by +the westering sun. Glenavelin looked crooked and fantastic in the +falling shadows, and two miles farther the high lights of Etterick rose +like a star in the bosom of the hills. Seen after many weeks' work in +the bustle and confinement of town, the solitary, shadow-haunted world +soothed and comforted. + +He found Lewis in his room alone. The place was quite dark for no lamp +was lit, and only a merry fire showed the occupant. He welcomed his +friend with crazy vehemence, pushing him into a great armchair, offering +a dozen varieties of refreshment, and leaving the butler aghast with +contradictory messages about dinner. + +"Oh, Tommy, upon my soul, it is good to see you here! I was getting as +dull as an owl." + +"Are you alone?" Wratislaw asked. + +"George is staying here, but he has gone over to Glenaller to a big +shoot. I didn't care much about it, so I stayed at home. He will be +back to-morrow." + +Lewis's face in the firelight seemed cheerful and wholesome enough, but +his words belied it. Wratislaw wondered why this man, who had been wont +to travel to the ends of the earth for good shooting, should deny +himself the famous Glenaller coverts. + +At dinner the lamplight showed him more clearly, and the worried look in +his eyes could not be hidden. He was listless, too, his kindly, +boisterous manner seemed to have forsaken him, and he had acquired a +great habit of abstracted silence. He asked about recent events in the +House, commenting shrewdly enough, but without interest. When Wratislaw +in turn questioned him on his doings, he had none of the ready +enthusiasm which had been used to accompany his talk on sport. He gave +bare figures and was silent. + +Afterwards in his own sanctum, with drawn curtains and a leaping fire, +he became more cheerful. It was hard to be moody in that pleasant room, +with the light glancing from silver and vellum and dark oak, and a +thousand memories about it of the clean, outdoor life. Wratislaw +stretched his legs to the blaze and watched the coils of blue smoke +mounting from his pipe with a feeling of keen pleasure. His errand was +out of the focus of his thoughts. + +It was Lewis himself who recalled him to the business. + +"I thought of coming down to town," he said. "I have been getting out +of spirits up here, and I wanted to be near you." + +"Then it was an excellent chance which brought me up to-night. But why +are you dull? I thought you were the sort of man who is sufficient unto +himself, you know." + +"I am not," he said sharply. "I never realized my gross insufficiency +so bitterly." + +"Ah!" said Wratislaw, sitting up, "love?" + +"Did you happen to see Miss Wishart's engagement in the papers?" + +"I never read the papers. But I have heard about this: in fact, I +believe I have congratulated Stocks." + +"Do you know that she ought to have married me?" Lewis cried almost +shrilly. "I swear she loved me. It was only my hideous folly that +drove her from me." + +"Folly?" said Wratislaw, smiling. "Folly? Well you might call it +that. I have come up 'ane's errand,' as your people hereabouts say, to +talk to you like a schoolmaster, Lewie. Do you mind a good talking-to?" + +"I need it," he said. "Only it won't do any good, because I have been +talking to myself for a month without effect. Do you know what I am, +Tommy?" + +"I am prepared to hear," said the other. + +"A coward! It sounds nice, doesn't it? I am a shirker, a man who would +be drummed out of any regiment." + +"Rot!" said Wratislaw. "In that sort of thing you have the courage of +your kind. You are the wrong sort of breed for common shirking cowards. +Why, man, you might get the Victoria Cross ten times over with ease, as +far as that goes. Only you wouldn't, for you are something much more +subtle and recondite than a coward." + +It was Lewis's turn for the request. "I am prepared to hear," he said. + +"A fool! An arrant, extraordinary fool! A fool of quality and parts, a +fool who is the best fellow in the world and who has every virtue a man +can wish, but at the same time a conspicuous monument of folly. And it +is this that I have come to speak about." + +Lewis sat back in his chair with his eyes fixed on the glowing coal. + +"I want you to make it all plain," he said slowly. "I know it all +already; I have got the dull, dead consciousness of it in my heart, but +I want to hear it put into words." And he set his lips like a man in +pain. + +"It is hard," said Wratislaw, "devilish hard, but I've got to try." He +knocked out the ashes from his pipe and leaned forward. + +"What would you call the highest happiness, Lewie?" he asked. + +"The sense of competence," was the answer, given without hesitation. + +"Right. And what do we mean by competence? Not success! God knows it +is something very different from success! Any fool may be successful, +if the gods wish to hurt him. Competence means that splendid joy in +your own powers and the approval of your own heart, which great men feel +always and lesser men now and again at favoured intervals. There are a +certain number of things in the world to be done, and we have got to do +them. We may fail--it doesn't in the least matter. We may get killed +in the attempt--it matters still less. The things may not altogether be +worth doing--it is of very little importance. It is ourselves we have +got to judge by. If we are playing our part well, and know it, then we +can thank God and go on. That is what I call happiness." + +"And I," said Lewis. + +"And how are you to get happiness? Not by thinking about it. The great +things of the world have all been done by men who didn't stop to reflect +on them. If a man comes to a halt and analyses his motives and +distrusts the value of the thing he strives for, then the odds are that +his halt is final. You strive to strive and not to attain. A man must +have that direct practical virtue which forgets itself and sees only its +work. Parsons will tell you that all virtue is self-sacrifice, and they +are right, though not in the way they mean. It may all seem a tissue of +contradictions. You must not pitch on too fanciful a goal, nor, on the +other hand, must you think on yourself. And it is a contradiction which +only resolves itself in practice, one of those anomalies on which the +world is built up." + +Lewis nodded his head. + +"And the moral of it all is that there are two sorts of people who will +never do any good on this planet. One is the class which makes formulas +and shallow little ideals its gods and has no glimpse of human needs and +the plain issues of life. The other is the egotist whose eye is always +filled with his own figure, who investigates his motives, and hesitates +and finicks, till Death knocks him on the head and there is an end of +him. Of the two give me the second, for even a narrow little +egotistical self is better than a formula. But I pray to be delivered +from both." + +"'Then who shall stand if Thou, O Lord, dost mark iniquity?'" Lewis +quoted. + +"There are two men only who will not be ashamed to look their work in +the face in the end--the brazen opportunist and the rigid Puritan. +Suppose you had some desperate frontier work to get through with and a +body of men to pick for it, whom would you take? Not the ordinary, +colourless, respectable being, and still less academic nonentities! If +I had my pick, my companions should either be the narrowest religionists +or frank, unashamed blackguards. I should go to the Calvinists and the +fanatics for choice, but if I could not get them then I should have the +rankers. For, don't you see, the first would have the fear of God in +them, and that somehow keeps a man from fearing anything else. They +would do their work because they believed it to be their duty. And the +second would have the love of the sport in them, and they should also be +made to dwell in the fear of me. They would do their work because they +liked it, and liked me, and I told them to do it." + +"I agree with you absolutely," said Lewis. "I never thought otherwise." + +"Good," said Wratislaw. "Now for my application. You've had the +misfortune to fall between the two stools, Lewie. You're too clever for +a Puritan and too good for a ranker. You're too finicking and +high-strung and fanciful for a prosaic world. You think yourself the +laughing philosopher with an infinite appreciation of everything, and +yet you have not the humour to stand aside and laugh at yourself." + +"I am a coward, as I have told you," said the other dourly. + +"No, you are not. But you can't bring yourself down to the world of +compromises, which is the world of action. You have lost the practical +touch. You muddled your fight with Stocks because you couldn't get out +of touch with your own little world in practice, however you might +manage it in theory. You can't be single-hearted. Twenty impulses are +always pulling different ways with you, and the result is that you +become an unhappy, self-conscious waverer." + +Lewis was staring into the fire, and the older man leaned forward and +put his hand very tenderly on his shoulder. + +"I don't want to speak about the thing which gives you most pain, old +chap; but I think you have spoiled your chances in the same way in +another matter--the most important matter a man can have to do with, +though it ill becomes a cynical bachelor like myself to say it." + +"I know," said Lewis dismally. + +"You see it is the Nemesis of your race which has overtaken you. The +rich, strong blood of you Haystouns must be given room or it sours into +moodiness. It is either a spoon or a spoiled horn with you. You are +capable of the big virtues, and just because of it you are +extraordinarily apt to go to the devil. Not the ordinary devil, of +course, but to a very effective substitute. You want to be braced and +pulled together. A war might do it, if you were a soldier. A religious +enthusiasm would do it, if that were possible for you. As it is, I have +something else, which I came up to propose to you." + +Lewis faced round in an attitude of polite attention. But his eyes had +no interest in them. + +"You know Bardur and the country about there pretty well?" + +Lewis nodded. + +"Also I once talked to you about a man called Marka. Do you remember?" + +"Yes, of course I do. The man who went north from Bardur the week +before I turned up there?" + +"Well, there's trouble brewing thereabouts. You know the Taghati +country up beyond the Russian line. Things are in a ferment there, +great military preparations and all the rest of it, and the reason, they +say, is that the hill-tribes in the intervening No-man's-land are at +their old games. Things look very ugly abroad just now, and we can't +afford to neglect anything when a crisis may be at the door. So we want +a man to go out there and find out the truth." + +Lewis had straightened himself and was on his feet before Wratislaw had +done. "Upon my word," he cried, "if it isn't what I expected! We have +been far too sure of the safety of that Kashmir frontier. You mean, of +course, that there may be a chance of an invasion?" + +"I mean nothing. But things look ugly enough in Europe just now, and +Asia would naturally be the starting-point." + +Lewis made some rapid calculations in his head which he jotted on the +wood of the fireplace. "It would take a week to get from Bardur to +Taghati by the ordinary Kashmir rate of travelling, but of course the +place is unknown and it might take months. One would have to try it?" + +"I can only give you the bare facts. If you decide to go, Beauregard +will give you particulars in town." + +"When would he want to know?" + +"At once. I go back to-morrow morning, and I must have your answer +within three days. You would be required to start within a week. You +can take time and quiet to make up your mind." + +"It's a great chance," said Lewis. "Does Beauregard think it +important?" + +"Of the highest importance. Also, of course it is dangerous. The +travelling is hard, and you may be knocked on the head at any moment as +a spy." + +"I don't mind that," said the other, flushing. "I've been through the +same thing before." + +"I need not say the work will be very difficult. Remember that your +errand will not be official, so in case of failure or trouble we could +not support you. We might even have to disclaim all responsibility. In +the event of success, on the other hand, your fortune is something more +than made." + +"Would you go?" came the question. + +"No," said Wratislaw, "I shouldn't." + +"But if you were in my place?" + +"I should hope that I would, but then I might not have the courage. I +am giving you the brave man's choice, Lewie. You will be going out to +uncertainty and difficulty and extreme danger. On the other hand, I +believe in my soul it will harden you into the man you ought to be. +Lord knows I would rather have you stay at home!" + +The younger man looked up for a second and saw something in Wratislaw's +face which made him turn away his eyes. The look of honest regret cut +him to the heart. Those friends of his, of whom he was in nowise +worthy, made the burden of his self-distrust doubly heavy. + +"I will tell you within three days," he said hoarsely. "God bless you, +Tommy. I don't deserve to have a man like you troubling himself about +me." + +It was his one spoken tribute to their friendship; and both, with the +nervousness of honest men in the presence of emotion, hastened to change +the subject. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE FURTHER BRINK + + +Wratislaw left betimes the next morning, and a long day faced Lewis with +every hour clamouring for a decision. George would be back by noon, and +before his return he must seek quiet and the chances of reflection. He +was happy with a miserable fluctuating happiness. Of a sudden his +horizon was enlarged, but as he gazed it seemed to narrow again. His +mind was still unplumbed; somewhere in its depths might lie the +shrinking and unwillingness which would bind him to the dreary present. + +He went out to the autumn hills and sought the ridge which runs for +miles on the lip of the glen. It was a grey day, with snow waiting in +cloud-banks in the north sky and a thin wind whistling through the +pines. The scene matched his humour. He was in love for the moment +with the stony and stormy in life. He hungered morbidly for +ill-fortune, something to stamp out the ease in his soul, and weld him +into the form of a man. + +He had got his chance and the rest lay with himself. It was a chance of +high adventure, a great mission, a limitless future. At the thought the +old fever began to rise in his blood. The hot, clear smell of rock and +sand, the brown depths of the waters, the far white peaks running up +among the stars, all spoke to him with the long-remembered call. Once +more he should taste life, and, alert in mind and body, hold up his chin +among his fellows. It would be a contest of wits, and for all his +cowardice this was not the contest he shrank from. + +And then there came back on him, like a flood, the dumb misery of +incompetence which had weighed on heart and brain. The hatred of the +whole struggling, sordid crew, all the cant and ugliness and ignorance +of a mad world, his weakness in the face of it, his fall from common +virtue, his nerveless indolence--all stung him like needle points, till +he cried out in agony. Anything to deliver his soul from such a +bondage, and in his extreme bitterness his mind closed with Wratislaw's +offer. + +He felt--and it is a proof of his weakness--a certain nameless feeling +of content when he had once forced himself into the resolution. Now at +least he had found a helm and a port to strain to. As his fancy dwelt +upon the mission and drew airy pictures of the land, he found to his +delight a boyish enthusiasm arising. Old simple pleasures seemed for +the moment dear. There was a zest for toils and discomforts, a +tolerance of failure, which had been aforetime his chief traveller's +heritage. + +And then as he came to the ridge where the road passes from Glenavelin +to Glen Adler, he stopped as in duty bound to look at the famous +prospect. You stand at the shedding of two streams; behind, the green +and woodland spaces of the pastoral Avelin; at the feet, a land of +stones and dwarf junipers and naked rifts in the hills, with +white-falling waters and dark shadows even at midday. And then, beyond +and afar, the lines of hill-land crowd upon each other till the eye is +lost in a mystery of grey rock and brown heather and single bald peaks +rising sentinel-like in the waste. The grey heavens lent a chill +eeriness to the dim grey distances; the sharp winds, the forerunners of +snow, blew over the moors like blasts from a primeval night. + +By an odd vagary of temper the love of these bleak hills blazed up +fiercely in his heart. Never before had he felt so keenly the nameless +glamour of his own heritage. He had not been back six months and yet he +had come to accept all things as matters of course, the beauty of the +place, its sport, its memories. Rarely had he felt that intimate joy in +it which lies at the bottom of all true souls. There is a sentiment +which old poets have made into songs and called the "Lilt of the +Heather," and which is knit closer to man's heart than love of wife or +kin or his own fair fortune. It had not come to him in the time of the +hills' glory, but now on the brink of winter the far-off melancholy of +the place and its infinite fascination seemed to clutch at his +heart-strings. It was his own land, the place of his fathers; and now +he must sever himself from it and carry only a barren memory. + +And yet he felt no melancholy. Rather it was the immortal gaiety of the +wanderer, to whom the homeland is dearest as a memory, who pitches his +camp by waters of Babylon and yet as ever the old word on his lip, the +old song in his ear, and the kindly picture in his heart. Strange that +it is the little races who wander farthest and yet have the eternal +home-sickness! And yet not strange, for to the little peoples, their +land, bare and uncouth and unfriendly for the needs of life, must be +more the ideal, the dream, than the satisfaction. The lush countries +give corn and wine for their folks, the little bare places afford no +more than a spiritual heritage. Yet spiritual it is, and for two men +who in the moment of their extremity will think on meadow, woodland, or +placid village, a score will figure the windy hill, the grey lochan, and +the mournful sea. + +For the moment he felt a self-pity which he cast from him. To this +degradation at least he should never come. But as the thought of Alice +came up ever and again, his longing for her seemed to be changed from +hot pain to a chastened regret. The red hearth-fire was no more in his +fancy. The hunger for domesticity had gone, and the girl was now less +the wife he had desired than the dream of love he had vainly followed. +As he came back across the moors, for the first time for weeks his +jealous love left him at peace. His had been a fanciful Sylvia, "holy, +fair, and wise"; and what if mortal Sylvia were unkind, there was yet +comfort in this elusive lady of his memories. + + * * * * * + +He found George at the end of a second breakfast, a very ruddy, happy +young man hunting high and low for a lost tobacco-jar. + +"Oh, first-class," he said in answer to Lewis's question. "Out and out +the best day's shooting I've had in my life. You were an ass not to +come, you know. A lot of your friends there, tremendously disappointed +too, and entrusted me with a lot of messages for you which I have +forgotten." + +His companion's high spirits infected Lewis and he fell into cheery +gossip. Then he could contain the news no more. + +"I had Tommy up last night on a flying visit. He says that Beauregard +wants me to go out to Kashmir again. There has been some threatening of +a row up there, and he thinks that as I know the place I might be able +to get good information." + +"Official?" asked George. + +"Practically, yes; but in theory it's quite off my own bat, and they are +good enough to tell me that they will not acknowledge responsibility. +However, it's a great chance and I am going." + +"Good," said the other, and his face and voice had settled into gravity. +"Pretty fair sport up in those parts, isn't there?" + +"Pretty fair? it's about the best in the world. Your ordinary man who +goes the grand tour comes home raving about the sport in the Himalayan +foothills, and it's not to be named with this." + +"Good chance too of a first-rate row, isn't there? Natives troublesome, +and Russia near, and that sort of thing?" George's manner showed a +growing enthusiasm. + +"A rather good chance. It is about that I'm going, you know." + +"Then if you don't mind, I am coming with you." + +Lewis stared, incredulous. + +"It's quite true. I am serious enough. I am doing nothing at the Bar, +and I want to travel, proper travelling, where you are not coddled with +railways and hotels." + +"But it's hideously risky, and probably very arduous and thankless. You +will tire of it in a week." + +"I won't," said George, "and in any case I'll make my book for that. +You must let me come, Lewie. I simply couldn't stand your going off +alone." + +"But I may have to leave you. There are places where one can go when +two can't." + +"When you come to that sort of place I'll stay behind. I'll be quite +under your orders." + +"Well, at any rate take some time to think over it." + +"Bless you, I don't want time to think over it," cried George. "I know +my own mind. It's the chance I've been waiting on for years." + +"Thanks tremendously then, my dear chap," said Lewis, very ill at ease. +"It's very good of you. I must wire at once to Tommy." + +"I'll take it down, if you like. I want to try that new mare of yours +in the dog-cart." + +When his host had left the room George forgot to light his pipe, but +walked instead to the window and whistled solemnly. "Poor old man," he +said softly to himself, "it had to come to this, but I'm hanged if he +doesn't take it like a Trojan." And he added certain striking comments +on the ways of womankind and the afflictions of life, which, being +expressed in Mr. Winterham's curious phraseology, need not be set down. + + * * * * * + +Alice had gone out after lunch to walk to Gledsmuir, seeking in the +bitter cold and the dawning storm the freshness which comes from +conflict. All the way down the glen the north wind had stung her cheeks +to crimson and blown stray curls about her ears; but when she left the +little market-place to return she found a fine snow powdering the earth, +and a haze creeping over the hills which threatened storm. A mile of +the weather delighted her, but after that she grew weary. When the fall +thickened she sought the shelter of a way-side cottage, with the purpose +of either sending to Glenavelin for a carriage or waiting for the +off-chance of a farmer's gig. + +By four o'clock the snow showed no sign of clearing, but fell in the +same steady, noiseless drift. The mistress of the place made the girl +tea and dispatched her son to Glenavelin. But the errand would take +time, for the boy was small, and Alice, ever impatient, stood drumming +on the panes, watching the dreary weather with a dreary heart. The +goodwife was standing at the door on the look-out for a passing gig, and +her cry brought the girl to attention. + +"I see a machine comin'! I think it's the Etterick dowg-cairt. Ye'll +get a drive in it." + +Alice had gone to the door, and lo! through the thick fall a dog-cart +came into view driven by a tall young man. He recognized her at once, +and drew up. + +"Hullo, Miss Wishart! Storm-stayed? Can I help you?" + +The girl looked distrustfully at the very restless horse and he caught +her diffidence. + +"Don't be afraid. 'What I don't know about 'oases ain't worth +knowin','" he quoted with a laugh; and leaning forward he prepared to +assist her to mount. + +There was nothing for it but to accept, and the next minute she found +herself in the high seat beside him. Her wraps, sufficient for walking, +were scarcely sufficient for a snowy drive, and this, to his credit, the +young man saw. He unbuttoned his tweed shooting-cape, and gravely put +it round her. A curious dainty figure she made with her face all bright +with wind, framed in the great grey cloak. + +The horse jibbed for a second and then swung along the wild road with +the vigorous ease of good blood skilfully handled. George was puzzling +his brain all the while as to how he should tell his companion something +which she ought to know. The strong drift and the turns of the road +claimed much of his attention, so it is possible that he blurted out his +news somewhat baldly. + +"Do you know, Miss Wishart, that Lewis Haystoun and I are going off next +week? Abroad, you know." + +The girl, who had been enjoying the ecstasy of swift motion through the +bitter weather, glanced up at him with pain in her eyes. + +"Where?" she asked. + +"To the Indian frontier. We are going to be special unpaid unofficial +members of the Intelligence Department." + +She asked the old, timid woman's question about danger. + +"It's where Lewis was before. Only, you see, things have got into a +mess thereabouts, and the Foreign Office has asked him to go out again. +By the by, you mustn't tell any one about this, for it's in strict +confidence." + +The words were meaningless, and yet they sent a pang through her heart. +Had he no guess at her inmost feelings? Could he think that she would +talk to Mr. Stocks of a thing which was bound up for her with all the +sorrow and ecstasy of life? + +He looked down and saw that her face had paled and that her mouth was +drawn with some emotion. A sudden gleam of light seemed to break in +upon him. + +"Are you sorry?" he asked half-unwittingly. + +For answer the girl turned her tragic eyes upon him, tried to speak, and +faltered. He cursed himself for a fool and a brute, and whipped up an +already over-active horse, till it was all but unmanageable. It was a +wise move, for it absorbed his attention and gave the poor child at his +side a chance to recover her composure. + +They came to Glenavelin gates and George turned in. "I had better drive +you to the door, in this charming weather," he said. The sight of the +pale little face had moved him to deep pity. He cursed his blindness, +the blindness of a whole world of fools, and at the same time, with the +impotence of the honest man, he could only wait and be silent. + +At the door he stopped to unbutton his cape from her neck, and even in +his nervousness he felt the trembling of her body. She spoke rapidly +and painfully. + +"I want you to take a message from me to--to--Lewis. Tell him I must +see him. Tell him to come to the Midburn foot, to-morrow in the +afternoon. Oh, I am ashamed to ask you, but you must tell him." And +then without thanks or good-bye she fled into the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE BRIDGE OF BROKEN HEARTS + + +Listless leaves were tossing in the light wind or borne downward in the +swirl of the flooded Midburn, to the weary shallows where they lay, +beached high and sodden, till the frost nipped and shrivelled their +rottenness into dust. A bleak, thin wind it was, like a fine sour wine, +searching the marrow and bringing no bloom to the cheek. A light snow +powdered the earth, the grey forerunner of storms. + +Alice stood back in the shelter of the broken parapet. The highway with +its modern crossing-place was some hundreds of yards up stream, but +here, at the burn mouth, where the turbid current joined with the cold, +glittering Avelin, there was a grass-grown track, and an ancient, +broken-backed bridge. There were few passers on the high-road, none on +this deserted way; but the girl in all her loneliness shrank back into +the shadow. In these minutes she endured the bitter mistrust, the sore +hesitancy, of awaiting on a certain but unknown grief. + +She had not long to wait, for Lewis came down the Avelin side by a +bypath from Etterick village. His alert gait covered his very real +confusion, but to the girl he seemed one who belonged to an alien world +of cheerfulness. He could not know her grief, and she regretted her +coming. + +His manners were the same courteous formalities. The man was torn with +emotion, and yet he greeted her with a conventional ease. + +"It was so good of you, Miss Wishart, to give me a chance to come and +say good-bye. My going is such a sudden affair, that I might have had +no time to come to Glenavelin, but I could not have left without seeing +you." + +The girl murmured some indistinct words. "I hope you will have a good +time and come back safely," she said, and then she was tongue-tied. + +The two stood before each other, awkward and silent--two between whom no +word of love had ever been spoken, but whose hearts were clamouring at +the iron gates of speech. + +Alice's face and neck were dyed crimson, as the impossible position +dawned on her mind. No word could break down the palisade, of form. +Lewis, his soul a volcano, struggled for the most calm and inept words. +He spoke of the weather, of her father, of his aunt's messages. + +Then the girl held out her hand. + +"Good-bye," she said, looking away from him. + +He held it for a second. "Good-bye, Miss Wishart," he said hoarsely. +Was this the consummation of his brief ecstasy, the end of months of +longing? The steel hand of fate was on him and he turned to leave. + +He turned when he had gone three paces and came back. The girl was +still standing by the parapet, but she had averted her face towards the +wintry waters. His step seemed to fall on deaf ears, and he stood +beside her before she looked towards him. + +Passion had broken down his awkwardness. He asked the old question with +a shaking voice. "Alice," he said, "have I vexed you?" + +She turned to him a pale, distraught face, her eyes brimming over with +the sorrow of love, the passionate adventurous longing which claims true +hearts for ever. + +He caught her in his arms, his heart in a glory of joy. + +"Oh, Alice, darling," he cried. "What has happened to us? I love you, +I love you, and you have never given me a chance to say it." + +She lay passive in his arms for one brief minute and then feebly drew +back. + +"Sweetheart," he cried. "Sweetheart! For I will call you sweetheart, +though we never meet again. You are mine, Alice. We cannot help +ourselves." + +The girl stood as in a trance, her eyes caught and held by his face. + +"Oh, the misery of things," she said half-sobbing. "I have given my +soul to another, and I knew it was not mine to give. Why, oh why, did +you not speak to me sooner? I have been hungering for you and you never +came." + +A sense of his folly choked him. + +"And I have made you suffer, poor darling! And the whole world is out +of joint for us!" + +The hopeless feeling of loss, forgotten for a moment, came back to him. +The girl was gone from him for ever, though a bridge of hearts should +always cross the chasm of their severance. + +"I am going away," he said, "to make reparation. I have my repentance +to work out, and it will be bitterer than yours, little woman. Ours +must be an austere love." + +She looked at him till her pale face flushed and a sad exultation woke +in her eyes. + +"You will never forget?" she asked wistfully, confident of the answer. + +"Forget!" he cried. "It is my only happiness to remember. I am going +away to be knocked about, dear. Wild, rough work, but with a man's +chances!" + +For a moment she let another thought find harbour in her mind. Was the +past irretrievable, the future predetermined? A woman's word had an old +right to be broken. If she went to him, would not he welcome her +gladly, and the future might yet be a heritage for both? + +The thought endured but a moment, for she saw how little simple was the +crux of her destiny. The two of them had been set apart by the fates; +each had salvation to work out alone; no facile union would ever join +them. For him there was the shaping of a man's path; for her the +illumination which only sorrows and parting can bring. And with the +thought she thought kindly of the man to whom she had pledged her word. +It was but a little corner of her heart he could ever possess; but +doubtless in such matters he was not ambitious. + +Lewis walked by her side down the by-path towards Glenavelin. Tragedy +muffled in the garments of convention was there, not the old picturesque +Tragic with sword and cloak and steel for the enemy, but the silent +Tragic which pulls at the heart-strings. + +"The summer is over," she said. "It has been a cruel summer, but very +bright." + +"Romance with the jarring modern note which haunts us all to-day," he +said. "This upland country is confused with bustling politics, and +pastoral has been worried to death by sickness of heart. You cannot +find the old peaceful life without." + +"And within?" she asked. + +"That is for you and me to determine, dear. God grant it. I have found +my princess, like the man in the fairy-tale, but I may not enter the +kingdom." + +"And the poor princess must sit and mope in her high stone tower? It is +a hard world for princesses." + +"Hard for the knights, too, for they cannot come back and carry off +their ladies. In the old days it used to be so, but then simplicity has +gone out of life." + +"And the princess waits and watches and cries herself to sleep?" + +"And the knight goes off to the World's End and never forgets." + +They were at Glenavelin gates now, and stood silent against the moment +of parting. She flew to his arms, for a second his kisses were on her +lips, and then came the sundering. A storm of tears was in her heart, +but with dry eyes she said the words of good-bye. Meanwhile from the +hills came a drift of snow, and a dreary wind sang in the pines the +dirge of the dead summer, the plaint of long farewells. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE EASTERN ROAD + + +If you travel abroad in certain seasons you will find that a type +predominates among the travellers. From Dover to Calais, from Calais to +Paris, there is an unnatural eagerness on faces, an unrest in gait, a +disorder in dress which argues worry and haste. And if you inquire +further, being of a speculative turn, you will find that there is +something in the air. The papers, French and English, have ugly +headlines and mystic leaders. Disquiet is in the atmosphere, each man +has a solution or a secret, and far at the back sits some body of men +who know that a crisis is near and square their backs for it. The +journalist is sick with work and fancied importance; the diplomat's hair +whitens with the game which he cannot understand; the statesman, if he +be wise, is in fear, knowing the meaning of such movements, while, if he +be foolish, he chirps optimistically in his speeches and is applauded in +the press. There are grey faces at the seats of the money-changers, for +war, the scourge of small cords, seems preparing for the overturning of +their tables, and the castigation of their persons. + +Lewis and George rang the bell in the Faubourg St. Honore on a Monday +afternoon, and asked for Lord Rideaux. His lordship was out, but, if +they were the English gentlemen who had the appointment with M. Gribton, +Monsieur would be with them speedily. + +Lewis looked about the heavily furnished ante-room with its pale yellow +walls and thick, green curtains, with the air of a man trying to recall +a memory. "I came over here with John Lambert, when his father had the +place. That was just after I left Oxford. Gad, I was a happy man then. +I thought I could do anything. They put me next to Madame de Ravignet +because of my French, and because old Ankerville declared that I ought +to know the cleverest woman in Europe. Sery, the man who was Premier +last year, came and wrung my hand afterwards, said my fortune was +assured because I had impressed the Ravignet, and no one had ever done +it before except Bismarck. Ugh, the place is full of ghosts. Poor old +John died a year after, and here am I, far enough, God knows, from my +good intentions." + +A servant announced "Monsieur Gribton," and a little grizzled man +hobbled in, leaning heavily on a stick. He wore a short beard, and in +his tanned face two clever grey eyes twinkled sedately. He shook hands +gravely when Lewis introduced George, but his eyes immediately returned +to the former's face. + +"You look a fit pair," he said. "I am instructed to give you all the +help in my power, but I should like to know your game. It isn't sport +this time, is it, Haystoun? Logan is still talking about his week with +you. Well, well, we can do things at our leisure. I have letters to +write, and then it will be dinner-time, when we can talk. Come to the +club at eight, 'Cercle des Voyageurs,' corner of Rue Neuve de St. +Michel. I expect you belong, Haystoun; and anyway I'll be there." + +He bowed them out with his staccato apologies, and the two returned to +their hotel to dress. Two hours later they found Gribton warming his +hands in the smoking-room of the Cercle, a fussy and garrulous +gentleman, eager for his dinner. He pointed out such people as he knew, +and was consumed with curiosity about the others. Lewis wandered about +the room before he sat down, shaking hands with several and nodding to +many. + +"You seem to know the whole earth," said Gribton. + +"I suppose that a world of acquaintance is the only reward of +slackness," Lewis said, laughing. "It's a trick I have. I never forget +a face and I honestly like to see people again." + +George pulled his long moustache. "It's simply hideous the way one is +forgotten. It's all right for the busy people, for they shift their +sets with their fortune, but for drones like me it's the saddest thing +in life. Before we came away, Lewie, I went up for a day to Oxford to +see about some things, and stopped a night there. I haven't been down +long, and yet I knew nobody at the club except the treasurer, and he had +nothing to say to me except to ask after you. I went to dinner with the +dons at the high table, and I nearly perished of the blues. Little +Riddell chirped about my profession, and that bounder Jackson, who was +of our year, pretended that he had been your bosom friend. I got so +bored that I left early and wandered back to the club. Somebody was +making a racket in our old rooms in the High, windows open, you know, +and singing. I stopped to look at them, and then they started, 'Willie +brewed a peck o' maut,' and, 'pon my soul, I had to come away. Couldn't +stand it. It reminded me so badly of you and Arthur and old John +Lambert, and all the honest men that used to be there. It was +infernally absurd that I should have got so sentimental, but that wasn't +the worst of it. For I met Tony and he made me come round to a dinner, +and there I found people I didn't know from Adam drinking the old toasts +we started. Gad, they had them all. 'Las Palmas,' 'The Old Guard,' +'The Wandering Scot,' and all the others. It made me feel as low as an +owl, and when I got back to the club and saw poor old John's photograph +on the wall, I tell you I went to bed in the most wretched melancholy." + +Lewis stared open-mouthed at George, the irrepressible, in this new +attitude. He, as the hardened traveller, had had little more than a +decent pang of home-sickness. His regret was far deeper and more real +than the sentimental article of commerce, and he could afford to be +almost gay while George sat in the depths. + +"I'm coming home, and I'm not happy; you young men are going out, and +you have got the blues. There's no pleasing weak humanity. I say, +Haystoun, who's that old man?" Gribton's jovial looks belied his words. + +Lewis mentioned a name for his host's benefit. The room was emptying +rapidly, for the Cercle dined early. + +"Now for business," said Gribton, when a waiter had brought the game +course, and they sat in the midst of a desert of linen and velvet. "I +have given the thing up, but I spent twenty of my best years at Bardur. +So, as I am instructed to do all in my power to aid you, I am ready. +First, is it sport? + +"Partly," said George, but Lewis's head gave denial. + +"Because, if it is, I am not the best man. Well, then, is it +geographical? For if it is, there is much to be done." + +"Partly," said Lewis. + +"Then I take it that the residue is political. You are following the +popular avenue to polities, I suppose. Leave the 'Varsity very raw, +knock about in an unintelligent way for three or four years on some +frontier, then come home, go into the House, and pose as a specialist in +foreign affairs. I should have thought you had too much humour for +that." + +"Only, you see, I have been there before. I am merely going back upon +my tracks to make sure. I go purely as an adventurer, hoping to pick up +some valuable knowledge, but prepared to fail." + +Gribton helped himself to champagne. "That's better. Now I know your +attitude, we can talk like friends. Better come to the small +smoking-room. They've got a '51 brandy here which is beyond words. +Have some for a liqueur." + +In the smoking-room Gribton fussed about coffee and cigars for many +minutes ere he settled down. Then, when he could gaze around and see +his two guests in deep armchairs, each smoking and comfortable, he +returned to his business. + +"I don't mind telling you a secret," he said, "or rather it's only a +secret here, for once you get out there you will find 'Gribton's view,' +as they call it, well enough known and very much laughed at. I've +always been held up to ridicule as an alarmist about that Kashmir +frontier, and especially about that Bardur country. Take the whole +province. It's well garrisoned on the north, but below that it is all +empty and open. The way into the Punjab is as clear as daylight for a +swift force, and the way to the Punjab is the way to India." + +Lewis rose and went to a rack on the wall. "Do you mind if I get down +maps? These French ones are very good." He spread a sheet of canvas on +the table, thereby confounding all Gribton's hospitable manoeuvring. + +"There," said Gribton, his eyes now free from drowsiness, and clear and +bright, "that's the road I fear." + +"But these three inches are unknown," said Lewis. "I have been myself +as far as these hills." + +Gribton looked sharply up. "You don't know the place as I know it. +I've never been so far, but I know the sheep-skinned devils who come +across from Turkestan. I tell you that place isn't the impenetrable +craggy desert that the Government of India thinks it. There's a road +there of some sort, and if you're worth your salt you'll find it out." + +"I know," said Lewis. "I am going to try." + +"There's another thing. For the last three years all that north part of +Kashmir, and right away south-west to the Punjab borders, has been +honoured with visits from plausible Russian gentlemen who may come down +by the ordinary caravan routes, or, on the other hand, may not. They +turn up quite suddenly with tooth-brushes and dressing-cases, and they +can't have come from the south. They fool around in Bardur, and then go +down to Gilgit, and, I suppose, on to the Punjab. They've got excellent +manners, and they hang about the clubs and give dinners and charm the +whole neighbourhood. Logan is their bosom friend, and Thwaite declares +that their society reconciles him to the place. Then they go away, and +the place keeps on the randan for weeks after." + +"Do you know a man called Marker by any chance?" Lewis asked. + +Gribton looked curiously at the speaker. "Have you actually heard about +him? Yes, I know him, but not very well, and I can't say I ever cared +for him. However, he is easily the most popular man in Bardur, and I +daresay is a very good fellow. But you don't call him Russian. I +thought he was sort of half a Scotsman." + +"Very likely he is," said Lewis. "I happen to have heard a good deal +about him. But what ails you at him?" + +"Oh, small things," and the man laughed. "You know I am getting elderly +and cranky, and I like a man to be very fair and four-square. I confess +I never got to the bottom of the chap. He was a capital sportsman, good +bridge-player, head like a rock for liquor, and all that; but I'm hanged +if he didn't seem to me to be playing some sort of game. Another thing, +he seemed to me a terribly cold-blooded devil. He was always slapping +people on the back and calling them 'dear old fellows,' but I happened +to see a small interview once between him and one of his servants. +Perhaps I ought not to mention it, but the thing struck me unpleasantly. +It was below the club verandah, and nobody happened to be about except +myself, who was dozing after lunch. Marker was rating a servant in some +Border tongue--Chil, it sounded like; and I remember wondering how he +could have picked it up. I saw the whole thing through a chink in the +floor, and I noticed that the servant's face was as grey as a brown +hillman's can be. Then the fellow suddenly caught his arm and twisted +it round, the man's face working with pain, though he did not dare to +utter a sound. It was an ugly sight, and when I caught a glimpse of +Marker's face, 'pon my soul, those straight black eyebrows of his gave +him a most devilish look." + +"What's he like to look at?" George asked. + +"Oh, he's rather tall, very straight, with a sort of military carriage, +and he has one of those perfect oval faces that you sometimes see. He +has most remarkable black eyes and very neat, thin eyebrows. He is the +sort of man you'd turn round to look at if you once passed him in the +street; and if you once saw him smile you'd begin to like him. It's the +prettiest thing I've ever seen." + +"I expect I'll run across him somewhere," said Lewis, "and I want badly +to know him. Would you mind giving me an introduction?" + +"Charmed!" said Gribton. "Shall I write it now?" And sitting down at a +table he scribbled a few lines, put them in an envelope, and gave it to +Lewis. + +"You are pretty certain to know him when you see him, so you can give +him that line. You might run across him anywhere from Hyderabad to +Rawal Pinch, and in any case you'll hear word of him in Bardur. He's +the man for your purpose; only, as I say, I never liked him. I suspect +a loop somewhere." + +"What are Logan and Thwaite like?" Lewis asked. + +"Easy-going, good fellows. Believe in God and the British Government, +and the inherent goodness of man. I am rather the other way, so they +call me a cynic and an alarmist." + +"But what do you fear?" said George. "The place is well garrisoned." + +"I fear four inches in that map of unknown country," said Gribton +shortly. "The people up there call it a 'God-given rock-wall,' and of +course there is no force to speak of just near it. But a tribe of +devils incarnate, who call themselves the Bada-Mawidi, live on its +skirts, and there must be a road through it. It isn't the caravan +route, which goes much farther east and is plain enough. But I know +enough of the place to know that every man who comes over the frontier +to Bardur does not come by the high-road." + +"But what could happen? Surely Bardur is strongly garrisoned enough to +block any secret raid." + +"It isn't bad in its way, if the people were not so slack and easy. +They might rise to scratch, but, on the other hand, they might not, and +once past Bardur you have the open road to India, if you march quick +enough." + +"Then you have no man sufficiently adventurous there to do a little +exploring?" + +"None. They care only about shooting, and there happens to be little in +those rocks. Besides, they trust in God and the Government of India. I +didn't, so I became unpopular, and was voted a bore. But the work is +waiting for you young men." + +Gribton rose, yawned, and stretched himself. "Shall I tell you any +more?" + +"I don't think so," said Lewis, smiling; "I fancy I understand, and I am +sure we are obliged to you. Hadn't we better have a game?" + +They went to the billiard-room and played two games of a hundred up, +both of which George, who had the idler's knack in such matters, won +with ease. Gribton played so well that he became excessively +good-humoured. + +"I almost wish I was going out again if I had you two as company. We +don't get the right sort out there. Our globe-trotters all want to show +their cleverness, or else they are merely fools. You will find it +miserably dull. Nothing but bad claret and cheap champagne at the +clubs, a cliquey set of English residents, and the sort of stock sport +of which you tire in a month. That's what you may expect our frontier +towns to be like." + +"And the neighbourhood?" said Lewis, with lifted eyebrows. + +"Oh, the neighbourhood is wonderful enough; but our people there are too +slack and stale to take advantage of it. It is a peaceful frontier, you +know, and men get into a rut as easily there as elsewhere. The +country's too fat and wealthy, and people begin to forget the skeleton +up among the rocks in the north." + +"What are the garrisons like?" + +"Good people, but far too few for a serious row, and just sufficiently +large to have time hang on their hands. Our friends the Bada-Mawidi now +and then wake them up. I see from the _Temps_ that a great stirring of +the tribes in the Southern Pamirs is reported. I expect that news came +overland through Russia. It's the sort of canard these gentry are +always getting up to justify a massing of troops on the Amu Daria in +order that some new governor may show his strategic skill. I daresay +you may find things a little livelier than I found them." + +As they went towards the Faubourg St. Honore a bitter Paris +north-easter had begun to drift a fine powdered snow in their eyes. +Gribton shivered and turned up the collar of his fur coat. "Ugh, I +can't stand this. It makes me sick to be back. Thank your stars that +you are going to the sun and heat, and out of this hideous grey +weather." + +They left him at the Embassy, and turned back to their hotel. + +"He's a useful man," said Lewis, "he has given us a cue; life will be +pretty well varied out there for you and me, I fancy." + +Then, as they entered a boulevard, and the real sweep of the wind met +their faces, both men fell strangely silent. To George it was the last +word of the north which they were leaving, and his recent home-sickness +came back and silenced him. But to Lewis, his mind already busy with +his errand, this sting of wind was the harsh disturber which carried him +back to a lonely home in a cold, upland valley. It was the wintry +weather which was his own, and Alice's face, framed in a cloak, as he +had seen it at the Broken Bridge, rose in the gallery of his heart. In +a moment he was disillusioned. Success, enterprise, new lands and faces +seemed the most dismal vexation of spirit. With a very bitter heart he +walked home, and, after the fashion of his silent kind, gave no sign of +his mood save by a premature and unreasonable retirement to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +IN THE HEART OF THE HILLS + + +All around was stone and scrub, rising in terraces to the foot of sheer +cliffs which opened up here and there in nullahs and gave a glimpse of +great snow hills behind them. On one of the flat ridge-tops a little +village of stunted, slaty houses squatted like an ape, with a vigilant +eye on twenty gorges. Thin, twisting paths led up to it, and before, on +the more clement slopes, some fields of grain were tilled as our Aryan +forefathers tilled the soil on the plains of Turkestan. The place was +at least 8,000 feet above the sea, so the air was highland, clear and +pleasant, save for the dryness which the great stone deserts forced upon +the soft south winds. You will not find the place marked in any map, +for it is a little beyond even the most recent geographer's ken, but it +is none the less a highly important place, for the nameless village is +one of the seats of that most active and excellent race of men, the +Bada-Mawidi, who are so old that they can afford to look down on their +neighbours from a vantage-ground of some thousands of years. It is well +known that when God created the earth He first fashioned this tangle of +hill land, and set thereon a primitive Bada-Mawidi, the first of the +clan, who was the ancestor, in the thousandth degree, of the excellent +Fazir Khan, the present father of the tribe. + +The houses clustered on the scarp and enclosed a piece of well-beaten +ground and one huge cedar tree. Sounds came from the near houses, but +around the tree itself the more privileged sat in solemn conclave. Food +and wine were going the round, for the Maulai Mohammedans have no taboos +in eating and drinking. Fazir Khan sat smoking next the tree trunk, a +short, sinewy man with a square, Aryan face, clear-cut and cruel. His +chiefs were around him, all men of the same type, showing curiously fair +skins against their oiled black hair. A mullah sat cross-legged, his +straggling beard in his lap, repeating some crazy charm to himself and +looking every now and again with anxious eyes to the guest who sat on +the chief's right hand. + +The guest was a long, thin man, clad in the Cossacks' fur lined military +cloak, under which his untanned riding-boots showed red in the +moonlight. He was still busy eating goat's flesh, cheese and fruits, +and drinking deeply from the sweet Hunza wine, like a man who had come +far and fast. He ate with the utmost disregard of his company. He +might have been a hunter supping alone in the solitary hills for all the +notice he took of the fifty odd men around him. + +By and by he finished, pulled forth a little silver toothpick from an +inner pocket, and reached a hand for the long cherry-wood pipe which had +been placed beside him. He lit it, and blew a few clouds into the calm +air. + +"Now, Fazir Khan," he said, "I am a new man, and we shall talk. First, +have you done my bidding?" + +"Thy bidding has been done," said the great man sulkily. "See, I am +here with my chiefs. All the twenty villages of my tribe have been +warned, and arms have been got from the fools at Bardur. Also, I have +the Yarkand powder I was told of, to give the signals on the hills. The +Nazri Pass road, which we alone know, has been widened. What more could +man do?" + +"That is well," said the other. "It is well for you and your people +that you have done this. Your service shall not be forgotten. +Otherwise--" + +"Otherwise?" said the Fazir Khan, his hand travelling to his belt at the +sound of a threat. + +The man laughed. "You know the tale," he said. "Doubtless your mother +told you it when you clutched at her breast. Some day a great white +people from the north will come down and swallow up the disobedient. +That day is now at hand. You have been wise in time. Therefore I say +it is well." + +The stranger spoke with perfect coolness. He looked round curiously at +the circle of dark faces and laughed quietly to himself. The chief +stole one look at him and then said something to a follower. + +"I need not speak of the reward," said the stranger. "You are our +servants, and duty is duty. But I have authority for saying that we +shall hold your work in mind when we have settled our business." + +"What would ye be without us?" said the chief in sudden temper. "What +do ye know of the Nazri gates or the hill country? What is this talk of +duty, when ye cannot stir a foot without our aid?" + +"You are our servants, as I said before," said the man curtly. "You +have taken our gold and our food. Where would you be, outlaws, vagrants +that you are, hated of God and man, but for our help? Your bodies would +have rotted long ago on the hills. The kites would be feeding on your +sons; your women would be in the Bokhara market. We have saved you a +dozen times from the vengeance of the English. When they wished to come +up and burn you out, we have put them past the project with smooth +words. We have fed you in famine, we have killed your enemies, we have +given you life. You are freemen indeed in the face of the world, but +you are our servants." + +Fazir Khan made a gesture of impatience. "That is as God may direct +it," he said. "Who are ye but a people of yesterday, while the +Bada-Mawidi is as old as the rocks. The English were here before you, +and we before the English. It is right that youth should reverence +age." + +"That is one proverb," said the man, "but there are others, and in +especial one to the effect that the man without a sword should bow +before his brother who has one. In this game we are the people with the +sword, my friends." + +The hillman shrugged his shoulders. His men looked on darkly, as if +little in love with the stranger's manner of speech. + +"It is ill working in the dark," he said at length. "Ye speak of this +attack and the aid you expect from us, but we have heard this talk +before. One of your people came down with some followers in my father's +time, and his words were the same, but lo! nothing has yet happened." + +"Since your father's time things have changed, my brother. Then the +English were very much on the watch, now they sleep. Then there were no +roads, or very bad ones, and before an army could reach the plains the +whole empire would have been wakened. Now, for their own undoing, they +have made roads up to the very foot of yon mountains, and there is a new +railway down the Indus through Kohistan waiting to carry us into the +heart of the Punjab. They seek out inventions for others to enjoy, as +the Koran says, and in this case we are to be the enjoyers." + +"But what if ye fail?" said the chief. "Ye will be penned up in that +Hunza valley like sheep, and I, Fazir Khan, shall be unable to unlock +the door of that sheepfold." + +"We shall not fail. This is no war of rock-pigeons, my brothers. Our +agents are in every town and village from Bardur to Lahore. The +frontier tribes, you among the rest, are rising in our favour. There is +nothing to stop us but isolated garrisons of Gurkhas and Pathans, with a +few overworked English officers at their head. In a week we shall +command the north of India, and if we hold the north, in another week we +shall hold Calcutta and Bombay." + +The chief nodded his head. Such far-off schemes pleased his fancy, but +only remotely touched his interest. Calcutta was beyond his ken, but he +knew Bardur and Gilgit. + +"I have little love for the race," he said. "They hanged two of my +servants who ventured too near the rifle-room, and they shot my son in +the back when we raided the Chitralis. If ye and your friends cross the +border I will be with you. But meantime, till that day, what is my +duty?" + +"To wait in patience, and above all things to let the garrisons alone. +If we stir up the hive in the valleys they may come and see things too +soon for our success. We must win by secrecy and surprise. All is lost +if we cannot reach the railway before the Punjab is stirring." + +The mullah had ceased muttering to himself. He scrambled to his feet, +shaking down his rags over his knees, a lean, crazy apparition of a man +with deep-set, smouldering eyes. + +"I will speak," he cried. "Ye listen to the man's words and ye are +silent, believing all things. Ye are silent, my children, because ye +know not. But I am old and I have seen many things, and these are my +words. Ye speak of pushing out the English from the land. Allah knows +I love not the breed! I spit upon it, I thirst for the heart of every +man, woman, and child, that I might burn them in the sight of all of +you. But I have heard this talk before. When I was a young priest at +Kufaz, there was word of this pushing out of the foreigner, and I +rejoiced, being unwise. Then there was much fighting, and at the end +more English came up the valleys and, before we knew, we were paying +tribute. Since then many of our people have gone down from the +mountains with the same thought, and they have never returned. Only the +English and the troops have crept nearer. Now this stranger talks of +his Tsar and how an army will come through the passes, and foreigner +will fight with foreigner. This talk, too, I have heard. Once there +came a man with a red beard who spoke thus, and he went down to Bardur, +and lo! our men told me that they saw him hanged there for a warning. +Let foreigner war on foreigner if they please, but what have we to do in +the quarrel, my children? Ye owe nothing to either." + +The stranger regarded the speaker with calm eyes of amusement. + +"Nothing," said he, "except that we have fed you and armed you. By your +own acts you are the servants of my master." + +The mullah was rapidly working himself into a frenzy. He swung his long +bony arms across his breast and turned his face skywards. "Ye hear +that, my children. The free people, the Bada-Mawidi, of whose loins +sprang Abraham the prophet, are the servants of some foreign dog in the +north. If ye were like your fathers, ye would have long ago ere this +wiped out the taunt in blood." + +The man sat perfectly composed, save that his right hand had grasped a +revolver. He was playing a bold game, but he had played it before. And +he knew the man he had to deal with. + +"I say again, you are my master's servants by your own confession. I +did not say his slaves. You are a free people, but you will serve a +greater in this affair. As for this dog who blasphemes, when we have +settled more important matters we will attend to him." + +The mullah was scarcely a popular member of his tribe, for no one +stirred at the call. The stranger sat watching him with very bright, +eager eyes. Suddenly the priest ceased his genuflexions, there was a +gleam of steel among his rags, then something bright flashed in the air. +It fell short, because at the very moment of throwing, a revolver had +cracked out in the silence, and a bullet had broken two of his fingers. +The man flung himself writhing on the ground, howling forth +imprecations. + +The stranger looked half apologetically at the chief, whose glum +demeanour had never relaxed. "Sorry," he said; "it had to be done in +self-defence. But I ask your pardon for it." + +Fazir Khan nodded carelessly. "He is a disturber of peace, and to one +who cannot fight a hand matters little. But, by Allah, ye northerners +shoot quick." + +The stranger relinquished the cherry-wood pipe and filled a meerschaum +from a pouch which he carried in the pocket of his cloak. He took a +long drink from the loving-cup of mulled wine which was passing round. + +"Your mad priest has method in his folly," he said. "It is true that we +are attacking a great people; therefore the more need of wariness for +you and me, Fazir Khan. If we fail there will be the devil to pay for +you. The English will shift their frontier-line beyond the mountains, +and there will be no more lifting of women and driving of cattle for the +Bada-Mawidi. You will all be sent to school, and your guns will be +taken from you." + +The chief compressed his attractive features into a savage scowl. "That +may not be in my lifetime," he said. "Besides, are there no mountains +all around? In five hours I shall be in China, and in a little more I +might be beyond the Amu. But why talk of this? The accursed English +shall not escape us, I swear by the hilt of my sword and the hearts of +my fathers." + +A subdued murmur of applause ran around the circle. + +"You are men after my own heart," said the stranger. "Meanwhile, a word +in your own ear, Fazir Khan. Dare you come to Bardur with me?" + +The chief made a gesture of repugnance. "I hate that place of mud and +lime. The blood of my people cries on me when I enter the gates. But +if it is your counsel I will come with you." + +"I wish to assure myself that the place is quiet. Our success depends +upon the whole country being unsuspicious and asleep. Now if word has +got to the south, and worse still to England, there will be questions +asked and vague instructions sent up to the frontier. We shall find a +stir among the garrisons, and perhaps some visitors in the place. And +at the very worst we might find some fool inquiring about the Nazri +Pass. There was once a man in Bardur who did, but people laughed at him +and he has gone." + +"Where?" asked the chief. + +"To England. But he was a harmless man, and he is too old to have any +vigour." + +As the darkness grew over the hills the fires were brightened and the +curious game of _khoti_ was played in groups of six. The women came to +the house-doors to sit and gossip, and listened to the harsh laughter of +their lords from beside the fires. A little after midnight, when the +stars were picked out in the deep, velvet sky, Fazir Khan and the +stranger, both muffled to the ears, stole beyond the street and +scrambled down the perilous path-ways to the south. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE OUTPOSTS + + +Towards the close of a wet afternoon two tongas discharged Lewis, +George, two native servants, and a collection of gun-cases in the +court-yard of the one hotel in Bardur. They had made a record journey +up country, stopping to present no letters of introduction, which are +the thieves of time. Now, as Lewis found himself in the strait valley, +with the eternal snows where the sky should be, and sniffed the dry air +from the granite walls, he glowed with the pleasure of recollection. + +The place was the same as ever. The same medley of races perambulated +the streets. Sheep-skinned Central Asians and Mongolian merchants from +Yarkand still displayed their wares and their cunning; Hunza tribesmen, +half-clad Chitralis, wild-eyed savages from Yagistan mingled in the +narrow stone streets with the civilized Persian and Turcoman from beyond +the mountains. Kashmir sepoys, an untidy race, still took their ease in +the sun, and soldiers of South India from the Imperial Service Troops +showed their odd accoutrements and queer race mixtures. The place +looked and smelled like a kind of home, and Lewis, with one eye on the +gun-cases and one on the great hills, forgot his heart-sickness and had +leisure for the plain joys of expectation. + +"I am going to get to work at once," he said, when he had washed the +dust out of his eyes and throat. "I shall go and call on the Logans +this very minute, and I expect we shall see Thwaite and some of the +soldiers at the club to-night." So George, much against his will, was +compelled to don a fresh suit and suffer himself to be conducted to the +bungalow of the British Resident. + +The Sahib was from home, at Gilgit, but Madame would receive the +strangers. So the two found themselves in a drawing-room aggressively +English in its air, shaking hands with a small woman with kind eyes and +a washed-out complexion. + +Mrs. Logan was unaffectedly glad to see them. She had that trick of +dominating her surroundings which English ladies seem to bear to the +uttermost ends of the globe. There, in that land of snows and rock, +with savage tribesmen not thirty miles away, and the British +frontier-line something less than fifty, she gave them tea and talked +small talk with the ease and gusto of an English country home. + +"It's the most unfortunate thing in the world," she cried. "If you had +only wired, Gilbert would have stayed, but as it is he has gone down to +Gilgit about some polo ponies, and won't be back for two days. Things +are so humdrum and easy-going up here that one loses interest in one's +profession. Gilbert has nothing to do except arrange with the foreman +of the coolies who are making roads, and hold stupid courts, and consult +with Captain Thwaite and the garrison people. The result is that the +poor man has become crazy about golf, and wastes all his spare money on +polo ponies. You can have no idea what a godsend a new face is to us +poor people. It is simply delightful to see you again, Mr. Haystoun. +You left us about sixteen months ago, didn't you? Did you enjoy going +back?" + +Lewis said yes, with an absurd sense of the humour of the question. The +lady talked as if home had been merely an interlude, instead of the +crisis of his life. + +"And what did you do? And whom did you see? Please tell me, for I am +dying for a gossip." + +"I have been home in Scotland, you know. Looking after my affairs and +idling. I stood for Parliament and got beaten." + +"Really! How exciting! Where is your home in Scotland, Mr. Haystoun? +You told me once, but I have forgotten. You know I have no end of +Scotch relatives." + +"It's in rather a remote part, a place called Etterick, in Glenavelin." + +"Glenavelin, Glenavelin," the lady repeated. "That's where the +Manorwaters live, isn't it?" + +"My uncle," said Lewis. + +"I had a letter from a friend who was staying there in the summer. I +wonder if you ever met her. A Miss Wishart. Alice Wishart?" + +Lewis strove to keep any extraordinary interest out of his eyes. This +voice from another world had broken rudely in upon his new composure. + +"I knew her," he said, and his tone was of such studied carelessness +that Mrs. Logan looked up at him curiously. + +"I hope you liked her, for her mother was a relation of my husband, and +when I have been home the small Alice has always been a great friend of +mine. I wonder if she has grown pretty. Gilbert and I used to bet +about it on different sides. I said she would be very beautiful some +day." + +"She is very beautiful," said Lewis in a level voice, and George, +feeling the thin ice, came to his friend's rescue. He could at least +talk naturally of Miss Wishart. + +"The Wisharts took the place, you know, Mrs. Logan, so we saw a lot of +them. The girl was delightful, good sportswoman and all that sort of +thing, and capital company. I wonder she never told us about you. She +knew we were coming out here, for I told her, and she was very +interested." + +"Yes, it's odd, for I suppose she had read Mr. Haystoun's book, where +my husband comes in a good deal. I shall tell her about seeing you in +my next letter. And now tell me your plans." + +Lewis's face had begun to burn in a most compromising way. Those last +days in Glenavelin had risen again before the eye of his mind and old +wounds were reopened. The thought that Alice was not yet wholly out of +his life, that the new world was not utterly severed from the old, +affected him with a miserable delight. Mrs. Logan became invested with +an extraordinary interest. He pulled himself together to answer her +question. + +"Oh, our errand is much the same as last time. We want to get all the +sport we can, and if possible to cross the mountains into Turkestan. I +am rather keen on geographical work just now, and there's a bit of land +up here which wants exploring." + +The lady laughed. "That sounds like poor dear Mr. Gribton. I suppose +you remember him? He left here in the summer, but when he lived in +Bardur he had got that northern frontier-line on the brain. He was a +horrible bore, for he would always work the conversation round to it +sooner or later. I think it was really Mr. Gribton who made people +often lose interest in these questions. They had to assume an indolent +attitude in pure opposition to his fussiness." + +"When will your husband be home?" Lewis asked. + +"In two days, or possibly three. I am so sorry about it. I'll wire at +once, but it's a slow journey, especially if he is bringing ponies. Of +course you want to see him before you start. It's such a pity, but +Bardur is fearfully empty of men just now. Captain Thwaite has gone off +after ibex, and though I think he will be back to-morrow, I am afraid he +will be too late for my dance. Oh, really, this is lucky. I had +forgotten all about it. Of course you two will come. That will make +two more men, and we shall be quite a respectable party. We are having +a dance to-morrow night, and as the English people here are so few and +uncertain in their movements we can't afford to miss a chance. You +_must_ come. I've got the Thwaites and the Beresfords and the Waltons, +and some of the garrison people who are down on leave. Oh, and there's +a man coming whom you must know. A Mr. Marker, a most delightful +person. I don't think you met him before, but you must have heard my +husband talk about him. He is the very man for your purpose. Gilbert +says he knows the hills better than any of the Hunza tribesmen, and that +he is the best sportsman he ever met. Besides, he is such an +interesting person, very much a man of the world, you know, who has been +everywhere and knows everybody." + +Lewis congratulated himself on his luck. "I should like very much to +come to the dance, and I especially want to meet Mr. Marker." + +"He is half Scotch, too," said the lady. "His mother was a Kirkpatrick +or some name like that, and he actually seems to talk English with a +kind of Scotch accent. Of course that may be the German part of him. +He is a Pomeranian count or something of the sort, and very rich. You +might get him to go with you into the hills." + +"I wish we could," said Lewis falsely. His curiosity was keenly +excited. + +"Why does he come up here such a lot?" George asked. + +"I suppose because he likes to 'knock about,' as you call it. He is a +tremendous traveller. He has been into Tibet and all over Turkestan and +Persia. Gilbert says that he is the wonder of the age." + +"Is he here just now?" + +"No, I don't think so. I know he is coming to-morrow, because he wrote +me about it, and promised to come to my dance. But he is a very busy +man, so I don't suppose he will arrive till just before. He wrote me +from Gilgit, so he may find Gilbert there and bring him up with him." + +Marker, Marker. The air seemed full of the strange name. Lewis saw +again Wratislaw's wrinkled face when he talked of him, and remembered +his words. "You were within an ace of meeting one of the cleverest men +living, a cheerful being in whom the Foreign Office is more interested +than in any one else in the world." Wratislaw had never been in the +habit of talking without good authority. This Marker must be indeed a +gentleman of parts. + +Then conversation dwindled. Lewis, his mind torn between bitter +memories and the pressing necessities of his mission, lent a stupid ear +to Mrs. Logan's mild complaints, her gossip about Bardur, her eager +questions about home. George manfully took his place, and by a +fortunate clumsiness steered the flow of the lady's talk from Glenavelin +and the Wisharts. Lewis spoke now and then, when appealed to, but he +was busy thinking out his own problem. On the morrow night he should +meet Marker, and his work would reveal itself. Meanwhile he was in the +dark, the flimsiest adventurer on the wildest of errands. This easy, +settled place, these Englishmen whose minds held fast by polo and games, +these English ladies who had no thought beyond little social devices to +relieve the monotony of the frontier, all seemed to make a mockery of +his task. He had fondly imagined himself going to a certainty of toil +and danger; to his vexation this certainty seemed to be changing into +the most conventional of visits to the most normal of places. But +to-morrow he should see Marker; and his hope revived at the prospect. + +"It is so pleasant seeing two fresh fellow-countrymen," Mrs. Logan was +saying. "Do you know, you two people look quite different from our men +up here. They are all so dried up and tired out. Our complexions are +all gone, and our eyes have got that weariness of the sun in them which +never goes away even when we go home again. But you two look quite keen +and fresh and enthusiastic. You mustn't mind compliments from an old +woman, but I wish our own people looked as nice as you. You will make +us all homesick." + +A native servant entered, more noiseless and more dignified than any +English footman, and announced another visitor. Lewis lifted his head, +and saw the lady rise, smiling, to greet a tall man who had come in with +the frankness of a privileged acquaintance. "How do you do, Mr. +Marker?" he heard. "I am so glad to see you. We didn't dare to expect +you till to-morrow. May I introduce two English friends, Mr. Haystoun +and Mr. Winterham?" + +And so the meeting came about in the simplest way. Lewis found himself +shaking hands cordially with a man who stood upright, quite in the +English fashion, and smiled genially on the two strangers. Then he took +the vacant chair by Mrs. Logan, and answered the lady's questions with +the ease and kindliness of one who knows and likes his fellow-creatures. +He deplored Logan's absence, grew enthusiastic about the dance, and +produced from a pocket certain sweetmeats, not made in Kashmir, for the +two children. Then he turned to George and asked pleasantly about the +journey. How did they find the roads from Gilgit? He hoped they would +get good sport, and if he could be of any service, would they command +him? He had heard of Lewis's former visit, and, of course, he had read +his book. The most striking book of travel he had seen for long. Of +course he didn't agree with certain things, but each man for his own +view; and he should like to talk over the matter with Mr. Haystoun. +Were they staying long? At Galetti's of course? By good luck that was +also his headquarters. And so he talked pleasingly, in the style of a +lady's drawing-room, while Lewis, his mind consumed with interest, sat +puzzling out the discords in his face. + +"Do you know, Mr. Marker, we were talking about you before you came in. +I was telling Mr. Haystoun that I thought you were half Scotch. Mr. +Haystoun, you know, lives in Scotland." + +"Do you really? Then I am a thousand times delighted to meet you, for I +have many connections with Scotland. My grandmother was a Scotswoman, +and though I have never been in your beautiful land, yet I have known +many of your people. And, indeed, I have heard of one of your name who +was a friend of my father's--a certain Mr. Haystoun of Etterick." + +"My father," said Lewis. + +"Ah, I am so pleased to hear. My father and he met often in Paris, when +they were attached to their different embassies. My father was in the +German service." + +"Your mother was Russian, was she not?" Lewis asked tactlessly, impelled +by he knew not what motive. + +"Ah, how did you know?" Mr. Marker smiled in reply, with the slightest +raising of the eyebrows. "I have indeed the blood of many nationalities +in my veins. Would that I were equally familiar with all nations, for I +know less of Russia than I know of Scotland. We in Germany are their +near neighbours, and love them, as you do here, something less than +ourselves." + +He talked English with that pleasing sincerity which seems inseparable +from the speech of foreigners, who use a purer and more formal idiom +than ourselves. George looked anxiously towards Lewis, with a question +in his eyes, but finding his companion abstracted, he spoke himself. + +"I have just arrived," said the other simply; "but it was from a +different direction. I have been shooting in the hills, getting cool +air into my lungs after the valleys. Why, Mrs. Logan, I have been down +to Rawal Pindi since I saw you last, and have been choked with the sun. +We northerners do not take kindly to glare and dust." + +"But you are an old hand here, they tell me. I wish you'd show me the +ropes, you know. I'm very keen, but as ignorant as a babe. What sort +of rifles do they use here? I wish you'd come and look at my +ironmongery." And George plunged into technicalities. + +When Lewis rose to leave, following unwillingly the convention which +forbids a guest to stay more than five minutes after a new visitor has +arrived, Marker crossed the room with them. "If you're not engaged for +to-night, Mr. Haystoun, will you do me the honour to dine with me? I +am alone, and I think we might manage to find things to talk about." +Lewis accepted gladly, and with one of his sweetest smiles the gentleman +returned to Mrs. Logan's side. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DINNER AT GALETTI'S + + +"I have heard of you so much," Mr. Marker said, "and it was a lucky +chance which brought me to Bardur to meet you." They had taken their +cigars out to the verandah, and were drinking the strong Persian coffee, +with a prospect before them of twinkling town lights, and a mountain +line of rock and snow. Their host had put on evening clothes and wore a +braided dinner-jacket which gave the faintest touch of the foreigner to +his appearance. At dinner he had talked well of a score of things. He +had answered George's questions on sport with the readiness of an +expert; he had told a dozen good stories, and in an easy, pleasant way +he had gossiped of books and places, people and politics. His knowledge +struck both men as uncanny. Persons of minute significance in +Parliament were not unknown to him, and he was ready with a theory or an +explanation on the most recondite matters. But coffee and cigars found +him a different man. He ceased to be the enthusiast, the omnivorous and +versatile inquirer, and relapsed into the ordinary good fellow, who is +no cleverer than his neighbours. + +"We're confoundedly obliged to you," said George. "Haystoun is keen +enough, but when he was out last time he seems to have been very slack +about the sport." + +"Sort of student of frontier peoples and politics, as the newspapers +call it. I fancy that game is, what you say, 'played out' a little +nowadays. It is always a good cry for alarmist newspapers to send up +their circulation by, but you and I, my friend, who have mixed with +serious politicians, know its value." + +George nodded. He liked to be considered a person of importance, and he +wanted the conversation to get back to ibex. + +"I speak as of a different nation," Marker said, looking towards Lewis. +"But I find the curse of modern times is this mock-seriousness. Some +centuries ago men and women were serious about honour and love and +religion. Nowadays we are frivolous and sceptical about these things, +but we are deadly in earnest about fads. Plans to abolish war, schemes +to reform criminals, and raise the condition of woman, and supply the +Bada-Mawidi with tooth-picks are sure of the most respectful treatment +and august patronage." + +"I agree," said Lewis. "The Bada-Mawidi live there?" And he pointed to +the hill line. + +Marker nodded. He had used the name inadvertently as an illustration, +and he had no wish to answer questions on the subject. + +"A troublesome tribe, rather?" asked Lewis, noticing the momentary +hesitation. + +"In the past. Now they are quiet enough." + +"But I understood that there was a ferment in the Pamirs. The other +side threatened, you know." He had almost said "your side," but checked +himself. + +"Ah yes, there are rumours of a rising, but that is further west. The +Bada-Mawidi are too poor to raise two swords in the whole tribe. You +will come across them if you go north, and I can recommend them as +excellent beaters." + +"Is the north the best shooting quarter?" asked Lewis with sharp eyes. +"I am just a little keen on some geographical work, and if I can join +both I shall be glad. Due north is the Russian frontier? + +"Due north after some scores of the most precipitous miles in the world. +It is a preposterous country. I myself have been on the verge of it, +and know it as well as most. The geographical importance, too, is +absurdly exaggerated. It has never been mapped because there is nothing +about it to map, no passes, no river, no conspicuous mountain, nothing +but desolate, unvaried rock. The pass to Yarkand goes to the east, and +the Afghan routes are to the west. But to the north you come to a wall, +and if you have wings you may get beyond it. The Bada-Mawidi live in +some of the wretched nullahs. There is sport, of course, of a kind, but +not perhaps the best. I should recommend you to try the more easterly +hills." + +The speaker's manner was destitute of all attempt to dissuade, and yet +Lewis felt in some remote way that this man was trying to dissuade him. +The rock-wall, the Bada-Mawidi, whatever it was, something existed +between Bardur and the Russian frontier which this pleasant gentleman +did not wish him to see. + +"Our plans are all vague," he said, "and of course we are glad of your +advice." + +"And I am glad to give it, though in many ways you know the place better +than I do. Your book is the work of a very clever and observant man, if +you will excuse my saying so. I was thankful to find that you were not +the ordinary embryo-publicist who looks at the frontier hills from +Bardur, and then rushes home and talks about invasion." + +"You think there is no danger, then?" + +"On the contrary, I honestly think that there is danger, but from a +different direction. Britain is getting sick, and when she is sick +enough, some people who are less sick will overwhelm her. My own +opinion is that Russia will be the people." + +"But is not that one of the old cries that you object to?" and Lewis +smiled. + +"It was; now it is ceasing to be a cry, and passing into a fact, or as +much a fact as that erroneous form of gratuity, prophecy, can be. Look +at Western Europe and you cannot disbelieve the evidence of your own +eyes. In France you have anarchy, the vulgarest frivolity and the +cheapest scepticism, joined with a sort of dull capacity for routine +work. Germany, the very heart of it eaten out with sentiment, either +the cheap military or the vague socialist brand. Spain and Italy +shadows, Denmark and Sweden farces, Turkey a sinful anachronism." + +"And Britain?" George asked. + +"My Scotch blood gives me the right to speak my mind," said the man, +laughing. "Honestly I don't find things much better in Britain. You +were always famous for a dogged common sense which was never tricked +with catch-words, and yet the British people seem to be growing nervous +and ingenuous. The cult of abstract ideals, which has been the curse of +the world since Adam, is as strong with you as elsewhere. The +philosophy of 'gush' is good enough in its place, but it is the devil in +politics." + +"That is true enough," said Lewis solemnly. "And then you are losing +grip. A belief in sentiment means a disbelief in competence and +strength, and that is the last and fatalest heresy. And a belief in +sentiment means a foolish scepticism towards the great things of life. +There is none of the blood and bone left for honest belief. You hold +your religion half-heartedly. Honest fanaticism is a thing intolerable +to you. You are all mild, rational sentimentalists, and I would not +give a ton of it for an ounce of good prejudice." George and Lewis +laughed. + +"And Russia?" they asked. + +"Ah, there I have hope. You have a great people, uneducated and +unspoiled. They are physically strong, and they have been trained by +centuries of serfdom to discipline and hardships. Also, there is fire +smouldering somewhere. You must remember that Russia is the +stepdaughter of the East. The people are northern in the truest sense, +but they have a little of Eastern superstition. A rational, sentimental +people live in towns or market gardens, like your English country, but +great lonely plains and forests somehow do not agree with that sort of +creed. That slow people can still believe freshly and simply, and some +day when the leader arrives they will push beyond their boundaries and +sweep down on Western Europe, as their ancestors did thirteen hundred +years ago. And you have no walls of Rome to resist them, and I do not +think you will find a Charlemagne. Good heavens! What can your +latter-day philosophic person, who weighs every action and believes only +in himself, do against an unwearied people with the fear of God in their +hearts? When that day comes, my masters, we shall have a new empire, +the Holy Eastern Empire, and this rotten surface civilization of ours +will be swept off. It is always the way. Men get into the habit of +believing that they can settle everything by talk, and fancy themselves +the arbiters of the world, and then suddenly the great man arrives, your +Caesar or Cromwell, and clears out the talkers." + +"I've heard something like that before. In fact, on occasions I have +said it myself. It's a pretty idea. How long do you give this +_Volkerwanderung_ to get started?" + +"It will not be in our time," said the man sadly. "I confess I am +rather anxious for it to come off. Europe is a dull place at present, +given up to Jews and old women. But I am an irreclaimable wanderer, and +it is some time since I have been home. Things may be already +changing." + +"Scarcely," said Lewis. "And meantime where is this Slav invasion going +to begin? I suppose they will start with us here, before they cross the +Channel?" + +"Undoubtedly. But Britain is the least sick of the crew, so she may be +left in peace till the confirmed invalids are destroyed. At the best it +will be a difficult work. Our countrymen, you will permit the name, my +friends, have unexpected possibilities in their blood. And even this +India will be a hard nut to crack. It is assumed that Russia has but to +find Britain napping, buy a passage from the more northerly tribes, and +sweep down on the Punjab. I need not tell you how impossible such a +land invasion is. It is my opinion that when the time comes the attack +will be by sea from some naval base on the Persian Gulf. It is a mere +matter of time till Persia is the Tsar's territory, and then they may +begin to think about invasion." + +"You think the northern road impossible! I suppose you ought to know." + +"I do, and I have some reason for my opinion. I know Afghanistan and +Chitral as few Europeans know it." + +"But what about Bardur, and this Kashmir frontier? I can understand the +difficulties of the Khyber, but this Kashmir road looks promising." + +Marker laughed a great, good-humoured, tolerant, incredulous laugh. "My +dear sir, that's the most utter nonsense. How are you to bring an army +over a rock wall which a chamois hunter could scarcely climb? An +invading army is not a collection of winged fowl. I grant you Bardur is +a good starting-point if it were once reached. But you might as well +think of a Chinese as of a Russian invasion from the north. It would be +a good deal more possible, for there is a road to Yarkand, and +respectable passes to the north-east. But here we are shut off from the +Oxus by as difficult a barrier as the Elburz. Go up and see. There is +some shooting to be had, and you will see for yourself the sort of +country between here and Taghati." + +"But people come over here sometimes." + +"Yes, from the south, or by Afghanistan." + +"Not always. What about the Korabaut Pass into Chitral? Ianoff and the +Cossacks came through it." + +"That's true," said the man, as if in deep thought. "I had forgotten, +but the band was small and the thing was a real adventure." + +"And then you have Gromchevtsky. He brought his people right down +through the Pamirs." + +For a second the man's laughing ease deserted him. He leaned his head +forward and peered keenly into Lewis's face. Then, as if to cover his +discomposure, he fell into the extreme of bluff amusement. The +exaggeration was plain to both his hearers. + +"Oh yes, there was poor old Gromchevtsky. But then you know he was what +you call 'daft,' and one never knew how much to believe. He had hatred +of the English on the brain, and he went about the northern valleys +making all sorts of wild promises on the part of the Tsar. A great +Russian army was soon to come down from the hills and restore the +valleys to their former owners. And then, after he had talked all this +nonsense, and actually managed to create some small excitement among the +tribesmen, the good fellow disappeared. No man knows where he went. +The odd thing is that I believe he has never been heard of again in +Russia to this day. Of course his mission, as he loved to call it, was +perfectly unauthorized, and the man himself was a creature of farce. He +probably came either by the Khyber or the Korabaut Pass, possibly even +by the ordinary caravan-route from Yarkand, but felt it necessary for +his mission's sake to pretend he had found some way through the rock +barrier. I am afraid I cannot allow him to be taken seriously." + +Lewis yawned and reached out his hand for the cigars. "In any case it +is merely a question of speculative interest. We shall not fall just +yet, though you think so badly of us." + +"You will not fall just yet," said Marker slowly, "but that is not your +fault. You British have sold your souls for something less than the +conventional mess of pottage. You are ruled in the first place by +money-bags, and the faddists whom they support to blind your eyes. If I +were a young man in your country with my future to make, do you know +what I would do? I would slave in the Stock Exchange. I would spend my +days and nights in the pursuit of fortune, and, by heaven, I would get +it. Then I would rule the market and break, crush, quietly and +ruthlessly, the whole gang of Jew speculators and vulgarians who would +corrupt a great country. Money is power with you, and I should attain +it, and use it to crush the leeches who suck our blood." + +"Good man," said George, laughing. "That's my way of thinking. Never +heard it better put." + +"I have felt the same," said Lewis. "When I read of 'rings' and +'corners' and 'trusts' and the misery and vulgarity of it all, I have +often wished to have a try myself, and see whether average brains and +clean blood could not beat these fellows on their own ground." + +"Then why did you not?" asked Marker. "You were rich enough to make a +proper beginning." + +"I expect I was too slack. I wanted to try the thing, but there was so +much that was repulsive that I never quite got the length of trying. +Besides, I have a bad habit of seeing both sides of a question. The +ordinary arguments seemed to me weak, and it was too much fag to work +out an attitude for oneself." + +Marker looked sharply at Lewis, and George for a moment saw and +contrasted the two faces. Lewis's keen, kindly, humorous, cultured, +with strong lines ending weakly, a face over-bred, brave and finical; +the other's sharp, eager, with the hungry wolf-like air of ambition, +every line graven in steel, and the whole transfused, as it were, by the +fire of the eyes into the living presentment of human vigour. + +It was the eternal contrast of qualities, and for a moment in George's +mind there rose a delight that two such goodly pieces of manhood should +have found a meeting-ground. + +"I think, you know, that we are not quite so bad as you make out," said +Lewis quietly. "To an outsider we must appear on the brink of +incapacity, but then it is not the first time we have produced that +impression. You will still find men who in all their spiritual sickness +have kept something of that restless, hard-bitten northern energy, and +that fierce hunger for righteousness, which is hard to fight with. +Scores of people, who can see no truth in the world and are sick with +doubt and introspection and all the latter-day devils, have yet +something of pride and honour in their souls which will make them show +well at the last. If we are going to fall our end will not be quite +inglorious." + +Marker laughed and rose. "I am afraid I must leave you now. I have to +see my servant, for I am off to-morrow. This has been a delightful +meeting. I propose that we drink to its speedy repetition." + +They drank, clinking glasses in continental fashion, and the host shook +hands and departed. + +"Good chap," was George's comment. "Put us up to a wrinkle or two, and +seemed pretty sound in his politics. I wish I could get him to come and +stop with me at home. Do you think we shall run across him again?" + +Lewis was looking at the fast vanishing lights of the town. "I should +think it highly probable," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE TACTICS OF A CHIEF + + +There is another quarter in Bardur besides the English one. Down by the +stream side there are narrow streets built on the scarp of the rock, +hovels with deep rock cellars, and a wonderful amount of cubic space +beneath the brushwood thatch. There the trader from Yarkand who has +contraband wares to dispose of may hold a safe market. And if you were +to go at nightfall into this quarter, where the foot of the Kashmir +policeman rarely penetrates, you might find shaggy tribesmen who have +been all their lives outlaws, walking unmolested to visit their friends, +and certain Jewish gentlemen, members of the great family who have +conquered the world, engaged in the pursuit of their unlawful calling. + +Marker speedily left the broader streets of the European quarter, and +plunged down a steep alley which led to the stream. Half way down there +was a lane to the left in the line of hovels, and, after stopping a +moment to consider, he entered this. It was narrow and dark, but smelt +cleanly enough of the dry granite sand. There were little dark +apertures in the huts, which might have been either doors or windows, +and at one of these he stopped, lit a match, and examined it closely. +The result was satisfactory; for the man, who had hitherto been +crouching, straightened himself up and knocked. The door opened +instantaneously, and he bowed his tall head to enter a narrow passage. +This brought him into a miniature courtyard, about thirty feet across, +above which gleamed a patch of violet sky, sown with stars. Below a +door on the right a light shone, and this he pushed open, and entered a +little room. + +The place was richly furnished, with low couches and Persian tables, and +on the floor a bright matting. The short, square-set man sitting +smoking on the divan we have already met at a certain village in the +mountains. Fazir Khan, descendant of Abraham, and father and chief of +the Bada-Mawidi, has a nervous eye and an uneasy face to-night, for it +is a hard thing for a mountaineer, an inhabitant of great spaces, to sit +with composure in a trap-like room in the citadel of a foe who has many +acts of rape and murder to avenge on his body. To do Fazir Khan justice +he strove to conceal his restlessness under the usual impassive calm of +his race. He turned his head slightly as Marker entered, nodded gravely +over the bowl of his pipe, and pointed to the seat at the far end of the +divan. + +"It is a dark night," he said. "I heard you stumbling on the causeway +before you entered. And I have many miles to cover before dawn." + +Marker nodded. "Then you must make haste, my friend. You must be in +the hills by daybreak, for I have some errands I want you to do for me. +I have to-night been dining with two strangers, who have come up from +the south." + +The chief's eyes sparkled. "Do they suspect?" + +"Nothing in particular, everything in general. They are English. One +was here before and got far up into your mountains. He wrote a clever +book when he returned, which made people think. They say their errand +is sport, and it may be. On the other hand I have a doubt. One has not +the air of the common sportsman. He thinks too much, and his eyes have +a haggard look. It is possible that they are in their Government's +services and have come to reconnoitre." + +"Then we are lost," said Fazir Khan sourly. "It was always a fool's +plan, at the mercy of any wandering Englishman." + +"Not so," said Marker. "Nothing is lost, and nothing will be lost. But +I fear these two men. They do not bluster and talk at random like the +others. They are so very quiet that they may mean danger." + +"They must remain here," said the chief. "Give me the word, and I will +send one of my men to hough their horses and, if need be, cripple +themselves." + +Marker laughed. "You are an honest fool, Fazir Khan. That sort of +thing is past now. We live in the wrong times and places for it. We +cannot keep them here, but we must send them on a goose-chase. Do you +understand?" + +"I understand nothing. I am a simple man and my ways are simple, and +not as yours." + +"Then attend to my words, my friend. Our expedition must be changed and +made two days sooner. That will give these two Englishmen three days +only to checkmate it. Besides, they are ignorant, and to-morrow is lost +to them, for they go to a ball at the Logan woman's. Still, I fear them +with two days to work in. If they go north, they are clever and +suspicious, and they may see or fancy enough to wreck our plans. They +may have the way barred, and we know how little would bar the way." + +"Ten resolute men," said the chief. "Nay, I myself, with my two sons, +would hold a force at bay there." + +"If that is true, how much need is there to be wary beforehand! Since +we cannot prevent these men from meddling, we can give them rope to +meddle in small matters. Let us assume that they have been sent out by +their Government. They are the common make of Englishmen, worshipping a +god which they call their honour. They will do their duty if they can +find it out. Now there is but one plan, to create a duty for them which +will take them out of the way." + +The chief was listening with half-closed eyes. He saw new trouble for +himself and was not cheerful. + +"Do you know how many men Holm has with him at the Forza camp?" + +"A score and a half. Some of my people passed that way yesterday, when +the soldiers were parading." + +"And there are two more camps? + +"There are two beyond the Nazri Pass, on the fringe of the Doorab hills. +We call the places Khautmi-sa and Khautmi-bana, but the English have +their own names for them." + +Marker nodded. + +"I know the places. They are Gurkha camps. The officers are called +Mitchinson and St. John. They will give us little trouble. But the +Forza garrison is too near the pass for safety, and yet far enough away +for my plans." And for a moment the man's eyes were abstracted, as if in +deep thought. + +"I have another thing to tell of the Forza camp," the chief interrupted. +"The captain, the man whom they call Holm, is sick, so sick that he +cannot remain there. He went out shooting and came too near to +dangerous places, so a bullet of one of my people's guns found his leg. +He will be coming to Bardur to-morrow. Is it your wish that he be +prevented? + +"Let him come," said Marker. "He will suit my purpose. Now I will tell +you your task, Fazir Khan, for it is time that you took the road. You +will take a hundred of the Bada-Mawidi and put them in the rocks round +the Forza camp. Let them fire a few shots but do no great damage, lest +this man Holm dare not leave. If I know the man at all, he will only +hurry the quicker when he hears word of trouble, for he has no stomach +for danger, if he can get out of it creditably. So he will come down +here to-morrow with a tale of the Bada-Mawidi in arms, and find no men +in the place to speak of, except these two strangers. I will have +already warned them of this intended rising, and if, as I believe, they +serve the Government, they will let no grass grow below their feet till +they get to Forza. Then on the day after let your tribesmen attack the +place, not so as to take it, but so as to make a good show of fight and +keep the garrison employed. This will keep these young men quiet; they +will think that all rumours they may have heard culminate in this rising +of yours, and they will be content, and satisfied that they have done +their duty. Then, the day after, while they are idling at Forza, we +will slip through the passes, and after that there will be no need for +ruses." + +The chief rose and pulled himself up to his full height. "After that," +he said, "there will be work for men. God! We shall harry the valleys +as our forefathers harried them, and we shall suck the juicy plains dry. +You will give us a free hand, my lord?" + +"Your hand shall be free enough," said Marker. "But see that every word +of my bidding is done. We fail utterly unless all is secret and swift. +It is the lion attacking the village. If he crosses the trap gate safely +he may ravage at his pleasure, but there is first the trap to cross. And +now it is your time to leave." + +The mountaineer tightened his girdle, and exchanged his slippers for +deer-hide boots. He bowed gravely to the other and slipped out into the +darkness of the court. Marker drew forth some plans and writing +materials from his great-coat pocket and spread them before him on the +table. It was a thing he had done a hundred times within the last week, +and as he made his calculations again and traced his route anew, his +action showed the tinge of nervousness to which the strongest natures at +times must yield. Then he wrote a letter, and, yawning deeply, he shut +up the place and returned to Galetti's. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +MRS. LOGAN'S BALL + + +When Lewis had finished breakfast next morning, and was sitting idly on +the verandah watching the busy life of the bazaar at his feet, a letter +was brought him by a hotel servant. "It was left for you by Marker +Sahib, when he went away this morning. He sent his compliments to the +sahibs and regretted that he had to leave too early to speak with them, +but he left this note." Lewis broke the envelope and read: + +/# + DEAR MR. HAYSTOUN, + + When I was thinking over our conversation last night, chance put a + piece of information in my way which you may think fit to use. You + know that I am more intimate than most people with the hill tribes. + Well, let this be the guarantee of my news, but do not ask how I + got it, for I cannot betray friends. Some of these, the Bada-Mawidi + to wit, are meditating mischief. The Forza camp, which I think you + have visited--a place some twenty miles off--is too near those + villages to be safe. So to-morrow at latest they have planned to + make a general attack upon it, and, unless the garrison were + prepared, I should fear for the result, for they are the most + cunning scoundrels in the world. What puzzles me is how they have + ever screwed up the courage for such a move, for lately they were + very much in fear of the Government. It appears as if they looked + for backing from over the frontier. You will say that this proves + your theory; but to me it merely seems as if some maniac of the + Gromchevtsky type had got among them. In any case I wish something + could be done. My duties take me away at once, and in a very + different direction, but perhaps you could find some means of + putting the camp on their guard. I should be sorry to hear of a + tragedy; also I should be sorry to see the Bada-Mawidi get into + trouble. They are foolish blackguards, but amusing. + + Yours most sincerely, + + ARTHUR MARKER. +#/ + +Lewis read the strange letter several times through, then passed it to +George. George read it with difficulty, not being accustomed to a +flowing frontier hand. "Jolly decent of him, I call it," was his +remark. + +"I would give a lot to know what to make of it. The man is playing some +game, but what the deuce it is I can't fathom." + +"I suppose we had better get up to that Forza place as soon as we can." + +"I think not," said Lewis. + +"The man's honest, surely?" + +"But he is also clever. Remember who he is. He may wish to get us out +of the way. I don't suppose that he can possibly fear us, but he may +want the coast clear from suspicious spectators. Besides, I don't see +the good of Forza. It is not the part of the hills I want to explore. +There can be no frontier danger there, and at the worst there can be +nothing more than a little tribal disturbance. Now what on earth would +Russia gain by moving the tribes there, except as a blind?" + +"Still, you know, the man admits all that in his letter. And if the +people up there are going to be in trouble we ought to go and give them +notice." + +"I'll take an hour to think over it, and then I'll go and see Thwaite. +He was to be back this morning." + +Lewis spread the letter before him. It was a simple, friendly note, +giving him a chance of doing a good turn to friends. His clear course +was to lay it before Thwaite and shift the responsibility for action to +his shoulders. But he felt all the while that this letter had a +personal application which he could not conceal. It would have been as +easy for Marker to send the note to Thwaite, whom he had long known. +But he had chosen to warn him privately. It might be a ruse, but he had +no glimpse of the meaning. Or, again, it might be a piece of pure +friendliness, a chance of unofficial adventure given by one wanderer to +another. He puzzled it out, lamenting that he was so deep in the dark, +and cursing his indecision. Another man would have made up his mind +long ago; it was a ruse, therefore let it be neglected and remain in +Bardur with open eyes; it was good faith and a good chance, therefore +let him go at once. But to Lewis the possibilities seemed endless, and +he could find no solution save the old one of the waverer, to wait for +further light. + +He found Thwaite at breakfast, just returned from his travels. + +"Hullo, Haystoun. I heard you were here. Awfully glad to see you. Sit +down, won't you, and have some breakfast." The officer was a long man, +with a thin, long face, a reddish moustache, and small, blue eyes. + +"I came to ask you questions, if you don't mind. I have the regular +globe-trotter's trick of wanting information. What's the Forza camp +like? Do you think that the Bada-Mawidi, supposing they stir again, +would be likely to attack it?" + +"Not a bit of it. That was the sort of thing that Gribton was always +croaking about. Why, man, the Bada-Mawidi haven't a kick in them. +Besides, they are very nearly twenty miles off and the garrison's a very +fit lot. They're all right. Trust them to look after themselves." + +"But I have been hearing stories of Bada-Mawidi risings which are to +come off soon." + +"Oh, you'll always hear stories of that sort. All the old women in the +neighbourhood purvey them." + +"Who are in charge at Forza?" + +"Holm and Andover. Don't care much for Holm, but Andy is a good chap. +But what's this new interest of yours? Are you going up there? + +"I'm out here to shoot and explore, you know, so Forza comes into my +beat. Thanks very much. See you to-night, I suppose." + +Lewis went away dispirited and out of temper. He had been pitchforked +among easy-going people, when all the while mysterious things, dangerous +things, seemed to hang in the air. He had not the material for even the +first stages of comprehension. No one suspected, every one was +satisfied; and at the same time came those broken hints of other things. +He felt choked and muffled, wrapped in the cotton-wool of this easy +life; and all the afternoon he chafed at his own impotence and the +world's stupidity. + +When the two travellers presented themselves at the Logans' house that +evening, they were immediately seized upon by the hostess and compelled, +to their amusement, to do her bidding. They were her discoveries, her +new young men, and as such, they had their responsibilities. George, +who liked dancing, obeyed meekly; but Lewis, being out of temper and +seeing before him an endless succession of wearisome partners, soon +broke loose, and accompanied Thwaite to the verandah for a cigar. + +The man was ill at ease, and the sight of young faces and the sound of +laughter vexed him with a sense of his eccentricity. He could never, +like George, take the world as he found it. At home he was the slave of +his own incapacity; now he was the slave of memories. He had come out +on an errand, with a chance to recover his lost self-respect, and lo! +he was as far as ever from attainment. His lost capacity for action was +not to be found here, in the midst of this petty diplomacy and +inglorious ease. + +From the verandah a broad belt of lawn ran down to the edge of the north +road. It lay shining in the moonlight like a field of snow with the +highway a dark ribbon beyond it. Thwaite and Lewis walked down to the +gate talking casually, and at the gate they stopped and looked down on +the town. It lay a little to the left, the fort rising black before it, +and the road ending in a patch of shade which was the old town gate. +The night was very still, cool airs blew noiselessly from the hills, and +a jackal barked hoarsely in some far-off thicket. + +The men hung listlessly on the gate, drinking in the cool air and +watching the blue cigar smoke wreathe and fade. Suddenly down the road +there came the sound of wheels. + +"That's a tonga," said Thwaite. "Wonder who it is." + +"Do tongas travel this road?" Lewis asked. + +"Oh yes, they go ten miles up to the foot of the rocks. We use them for +sending up odds and ends to the garrisons. After that coolies are the +only conveyance. Gad, I believe this thing is going to stop." + +The thing in question, which was driven by a sepoy in bright yellow +pyjamas, stopped at the Logans' gate. A peevish voice was heard giving +directions from within. + +"It sounds like Holm," said Thwaite, walking up to it, "and upon my soul +it is Holm. What on earth are you doing here, my dear fellow?" + +"Is that you, Thwaite?" said the voice. "I wish you'd help me out. I +want Logan to give me a bed for the night. I'm infernally ill." + +Lewis looked within and saw a pale face and bloodshot eyes which did not +belie the words. + +"What is it?" said Thwaite. "Fever or anything smashed?" + +"I've got a bullet in my leg which has got to be cut out. Got it two +days ago when I was out shooting. Some natives up in the rocks did it, +I fancy. Lord, how it hurts." And the unhappy man groaned as he tried +to move. + +"That's bad," said Thwaite sympathetically. "The Logans have got a +dance on, but we'll look after you all right. How did you leave things +in Forza?" + +"Bad. I oughtn't to be here, but Andy insisted. He said I would only +get worse and crock entirely. Things look a bit wild up there just now. +There has been a confounded lot of rifle-stealing, and the Bada-Mawidi +are troublesome. However, I hope it's only their fun." + +"I hope so," said Thwaite. "You know Haystoun, don't you?" + +"Glad to meet you," said the man. "Heard of you. Coming up our way? I +hope you will after I get this beastly leg of mine better." + +"Thwaite will tell you I have been cross-examining him about your place. +I wanted badly to ask you about it, for I got a letter this morning from +a man called Marker with some news for you." + +"What did he say?" asked Holm sharply. + +"He said that he had heard privately that the Bada-Mawidi were planning +an attack on you to-morrow or the day after." + +"The deuce they are," said Holm peevishly, and Thwaite's face +lengthened. + +"And he told me to find some way of letting you know." + +"Then why didn't you tell me earlier?" said Thwaite. "Marker should +know if anybody does. We should have kept Holm up there. Now it's +almost too late. Oh, this is the devil!" + +Lewis held his peace. He had forgotten the solidity of Marker's +reputation. + +"What's the chances of the place?" Thwaite was asking. "I know your +numbers and all that, but are they anything like prepared?" + +"I don't know," said Holm miserably. "They might get on all right, but +everybody is pretty slack just now. Andy has a touch of fever, and some +of the men may get leave for shooting. I must get back at once." + +"You can't. Why, man, you couldn't get half way. And what's more, I +can't go. This place wants all the looking after it can get. A row in +the hills means a very good possibility of a row in Bardur, and that is +too dangerous a game. And besides myself there is scarcely a man in the +place who counts. Logan has gone to Gilgit, and there's nobody left but +boys." + +"If you don't mind I should like to go," said Lewis shamefacedly. + +"You," they cried. "Do you know the road?" + +"I've been there before, and I remember it more or less. Besides, it is +really my show this time. I got the warning, and I want the credit." +And he smiled. + +"The road's bound to be risky," said Thwaite thoughtfully. "I don't +feel inclined to let you run your neck into danger like this." + +Lewis was busy turning over the problem in his mind. The presence of +the man Holm seemed the one link of proof he needed. He had his word +that there were signs of trouble in the place, and that the Bada-Mawidi +were ill at ease. Whatever game Marker was playing, on this matter he +seemed to have spoken in good faith. Here was a clear piece of work for +him. And even if it was fruitless it would bring him nearer to the +frontier; his expedition to the north would be begun. + +"Let me go," he said. "I came out here to explore the hills and I take +all risks on my own head. I can give them Marker's message as well as +anybody else." + +Thwaite looked at Holm. "I don't see why he shouldn't. You're a wreck, +and I can't leave my own place." + +"Tell Andy you saw me," cried Holm. "He'll be anxious. And tell him to +mind the north gate. If the fools knew how to use dynamite they might +have it down at once. If they attack it can't last long, but then they +can't last long either, for they are hard up for arms, and unless they +have changed since last week they have no ammunition to speak of." + +"Marker said it looked as if they were being put up to the job from over +the frontier." + +"Gad, then it's my turn to look out," said Thwaite. "If it's the +gentlemen from over the frontier they won't stop at Forza. Lord, I hate +this border business, it's so hideously in the dark. But I think that's +all rot. Any tribal row here is sure to be set down to Russian +influence. We don't understand the joint possession of an artificial +frontier," he added, with an air of quoting from some book. + +"Did you get that from Marker?" Holm asked crossly. "He once said the +same thing to me." His temper had suffered badly among the hills. + +"We'd better get you to bed, my dear fellow," said Thwaite, looking down +at him. "You look remarkably cheap. Would you mind going in and trying +to find Mrs. Logan, Haystoun? I'll carry this chap in. Stop a minute, +though. Perhaps he's got something to say to you." + +"Mind the north gate ... tell Andy I'm all right and make him look +after himself ... he's overworking ... if you want to send a +message to the other people you'd better send by Nazri ... if the +Badas mean business they'll shut up the road you go by. That's all. +Good luck and thanks very much." + +Lewis found Mrs. Logan making a final inspection of the supper-room. +She ran to the garden, to find the invalid Holm in Thwaite's arms at the +steps of the verandah. The sick warrior pulled off an imaginary cap and +smiled feebly. + +"Oh, Mr. Holm, I'm so sorry. Of course we can have you. I'll put you in +the other end of the house where you won't be so much troubled with the +noise. You must have had a dreadful journey." And so forth, with the +easy condolences of a kind woman. + +When Thwaite had laid down his burden, he turned to Lewis. + +"I wish we had another man, Haystoun. What about your friend Winterham? +One's enough to do your work, but if the thing turns out to be serious, +there ought to be some means of sending word. Andover will want you to +stay, for they are short-handed enough." + +"I'll get Winterham to go and wait for me somewhere. If I don't turn up +by a certain time, he can come and look for me." + +"That will do," said Thwaite, "though it's a stale job for him. Well, +good-bye and good luck to you. I expect there won't be much trouble, +but I wish you had told us in the morning." + +Lewis turned to go and find George. "What a chance I had almost +missed," was the word in his heart. The errand might be futile, the +message a blind, but it was at least movement, action, a possibility. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +FRIEND TO FRIEND + + +He found George sitting down in the verandah after waltzing. His +partner was a sister of Logan's, a dark girl whose husband was Resident +somewhere in Lower Kashmir. The lady gave her hand to Lewis and he took +the vacant seat on the other side. + +He apologized for carrying off her companion, escorted her back to the +ballroom, and then returned to satisfy the amazed George. + +"I want to talk to you. Excuse my rudeness, but I have explained to +Mrs. Tracy. I have a good many things I want to say to you." + +"Where on earth have you been all night, Lewis? I call it confoundedly +mean to go off and leave me to do all the heavy work. I've never been +so busy in my life. Lots of girls and far too few men. This is the +first breathing space I've had. What is it that you want?" + +"I am going off this very moment up into the hills. That letter Marker +sent me this morning has been confirmed. Holm, who commands up at the +Forza fort, has just come down very sick, and he says that the +Bada-Mawidi are looking ugly, and that we should take Marker's word. He +wanted to go back himself but he is too ill, and Thwaite can't leave +here, so I am going. I don't expect there will be much risk, but in +case the rising should be serious I want you to do me a favour." + +"I suppose I can't come with you," said George ruefully. "I know I +promised to let you go your own way before we came out, but I wish you +would let me stick by you. What do you want me to do?" + +"Nothing desperate," said Lewis, laughing. "You can stay on here and +dance till sunrise if you like. But to-morrow I want you to come up to +a certain place at the foot of the hills which I will tell you about, +and wait there. It's about half distance between Forza and the two +Khautmi forts. If the rising turns out to be a simple affair I'll join +you there to-morrow night and we can start our shooting. But if I +don't, I want you to go up to the Khautmi forts and rouse St. John and +Mitchinson and get them to send to Forza. Do you see?" + +Lewis had taken out a pencil and began to sketch a rough plan on +George's shirt cuff. "This will give you an idea of the place. You can +look up a bigger map in the hotel, and Thwaite or any one will give you +directions about the road. There's Forza, and there are the Khautmis +about twenty miles west. Half-way between the two is that long Nazri +valley, and at the top is a tableland strewn with boulders where you +shoot mountain sheep. I've been there, and the road between Khautmi and +Forza passes over it. I expect it is a very bad road, but apparently +you can get a little Kashmir pony to travel it. To the north of that +plateau there is said to be nothing but rock and snow for twenty miles +to the frontier. That may be so, but if this thing turns out all right +we'll look into the matter. Anyway, you have got to pitch your tent +to-morrow on that tableland just above the head of the Nazri gully. +With luck I should be able to get to you some time in the afternoon. If +I don't turn up, you go off to Khautmi next morning at daybreak and give +them my message. If I can't come myself I'll find a way to send word; +but if you don't hear from me it will be fairly serious, for it will +mean that the rising is a formidable thing after all. And that, of +course, will mean trouble for everybody all round. In that case you'd +better do what St. John and Mitchinson tell you. You're sure to be +wanted." + +George's face cleared. "That sounds rather sport. I'd better bring up +the servants. They might turn out useful. And I suppose I'll bring a +couple of rifles for you, in case it's all a fraud and we want to go +shooting. I thought the place was going to be stale, but it promises +pretty well now." And he studied the plan on his shirt cuff. Then an +idea came to him. + +"Suppose you find no rising. That will mean that Marker's letter was a +blind of some sort. He wanted to get you out of the way or something. +What will you do then? Come back here?" + +"N--o," said Lewis hesitatingly. "I think Thwaite is good enough, and I +should be no manner of use. You and I will wait up there in the hills +on the off-chance of picking up some news. I swear I won't come back +here to hang about and try and discover things. It's enough to drive a +man crazy." + +"It is rather a ghastly place. Wonder how the Logans thrive here. Odd +mixture this. Strauss and hill tribes not twenty miles apart." + +Lewis laughed. "I think I prefer the hill tribes. I am not in the +humour for Strauss just now. I shall have to be off in an hour, so I am +going to change. See you to-morrow, old man." + +George retired to the ballroom, where he had to endure the reproaches of +Mrs. Logan. He was an abstracted and silent partner, and in the +intervals of dancing he studied his cuff. Miss A talked to him of polo, +and Miss B of home; Miss C discovered that they had common friends, and +Miss D that she had known his sister. Miss E, who was more observant, +saw the cause of his distraction and asked, "What queer hieroglyphics +have you got on your cuff, Mr. Winterham?" + +George looked down in a bewildered way at his sleeve. "Where on earth +have I been?" he asked in wonder. "That's the worst of being an +absent-minded fellow. I've been scribbling on my cuff with my programme +pencil." + +Soon he escaped, and made his way down to the garden gate, where Thwaite +was standing smoking. A _sais_ held a saddled pony by the road-side. +Lewis, in rough shooting clothes, was preparing to mount. From indoors +came the jigging of a waltz tune and the sound of laughter, while far in +the north the cliffs of the pass framed a dark blue cleft where the +stars shone. George drew in great draughts of the cool, fresh air. "I +wish I was coming with you," he said wistfully. + +"You'll be in time enough to-morrow," said Lewis. "I wish you'd give +him all the information you can about the place, Thwaite. He's an +ignorant beggar. See that he remembers to bring food and matches. The +guns are the only things I can promise he won't forget." + +Then he rode off, the little beast bucking excitedly at the patches of +moonlight, and the two men walked back to the house. + +"Hope he comes back all right," said Thwaite. "He's too good a man to +throw away." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE ROAD TO FORZA + + +The road ran in a straight line through the valley of dry rocks, a dull, +modern road, engineered and macadamized up to the edge of the hills. +The click of hoofs raised echoes in the silence, for in all the great +valley, in the chain of pools in the channel, the acres of sun-dried +stone, the granite rocks, the tangle of mountain scrub, there seemed no +life of bird or beast. It was a strange, deathly stillness, and +overhead the purple sky, sown with a million globes of light, seemed so +near and imminent that the glen for the moment was but a vast jewel-lit +cavern, and the sky a fretted roof which spanned the mountains. + +For the first time Lewis felt the East. Hitherto he had been unable to +see anything in his errand but its futility. A stupider man, with a +sharp, practical brain, would have taken himself seriously and come to +Bardur with an intent and satisfied mind. He would have assumed the air +of a diplomatist, have felt the dignity of his mission, and in success +and failure have borne himself with self-confidence. But to Lewis the +business which loomed serious in England, at Bardur took on the colour +of comedy. He felt his impotence, he was touched insensibly by the easy +content of the place. Frontier difficulties seemed matters for romance +and comic opera; and Bardur resolved itself into an English suburb, all +tea-parties and tennis. But at times an austere conscience jogged him +to remembrance, and in one such fitful craving for action and enterprise +he had found this errand. Now at last, astride the little Kashmir pony, +with his face to the polestar and the hills, he felt the mystery of a +strange world, and his work assumed a tinge of the adventurer. This was +new, he told himself; this was romance. He had his eyes turned to a new +land, and the smell of dry mountain sand and scrub, and the vault-like, +imperial sky were the earnest of his inheritance. This was the East, +the gorgeous, the impenetrable. Before him were the hill deserts, and +then the great, warm plains, and the wide rivers, and then on and on to +the cold north, the steppes, the icy streams, the untrodden forests. To +the west and beyond the mountains were holy mosques, "shady cities of +palm trees," great walled towns to which north and west and south +brought their merchandise. And to the east were latitudes more +wonderful, the uplands of the world, the impassable borders of the +oldest of human cultures. Names rang in his head like tunes--Khiva, +Bokhara, Samarkand, the goal of many boyish dreams born of clandestine +suppers and the Arabian Nights. It was an old fierce world he was on +the brink of, and the nervous frontier civilization fell a thousand +miles behind him. + +The white road turned to the right with the valley, and the hills crept +down to the distance of a gun-shot. The mounting tiers of stone and +brawling water caught the moonlight in waves, and now he was in a cold +pit of shadow and now in a patch of radiant moonshine. It was a world +of fantasy, a rousing world of wintry hill winds and sudden gleams of +summer. His spirits rose high, and he forgot all else in plain +enjoyment. Now at last he had found life, rich, wild, girt with +marvels. He was beginning to whistle some air when his pony shied +violently and fell back, and at the same moment a pistol-shot cracked +out of a patch of thorn. + +He turned the beast and rode straight at the thicket, which was a very +little one. The ball had wandered somewhere into the void, and no harm +was done, but he was curious about its owner. Up on the hillside he +seemed to see a dark figure scrambling among the cliffs in the fretted +moonlight. + +It is unpleasant to be shot at in the dark from the wayside, but at the +moment the thing pleased this strange young man. It seemed a token that +at last he was getting to work. He found a rope stretched taut across +the road, which accounted for the pony's stumble. Laughing heartily, he +cut it with his knife, and continued, cheerful as before, but somewhat +less fantastic. Now he kept a sharp eye on all wayside patches. + +At the head of the valley the waters of the stream forked into two +torrents, one flowing from the east in an open glen up which ran the +road to Yarkand, the other descending from the northern hills in a wild +gully. At the foot stood a little hut with an apology for stabling, +where an old and dirty gentleman of the Hunza race pursued his calling +till such time as he should attract the notice of his friends up in the +hills and go to paradise with a slit throat. + +Lewis roused the man with a violent knocking at the door. The old +ruffian appeared with a sputtering lamp which might have belonged to a +cave man, and a head of matted grey hair which suggested the same +origin. He was old and suspicious, but at Lewis's bidding he hobbled +forth and pointed out the stabling. + +"The pony is to stay here till it is called for. Do you hear? And if +Holm Sahib returns and finds that it is not fed he will pay you nothing. +So good night, father. Sound sleep and a good conscience." + +He turned to the twisting hill road which ran up from the light into the +gloom of the cleft with all the vigour of an old mountaineer who has +been long forced to dwell among lowlands. Once a man acquires the art +of hill walking he will always find flat country something of a burden, +and the mere ascent of a slope will have a tonic's power. The path was +good, but perilous at the best, and the proximity of yawning precipices +gave a zest to the travel. The road would fringe a pit of shade, black +but for the gleam of mica and the scattered foam of the stream. It was +no longer a silent world. Hawks screamed at times from the cliffs, and +a multitude of bats and owls flickered in the depths. A continuous +falling of waters, an infinite sighing of night winds, the swaying and +tossing which is always heard in the midmost mountain solitudes, the +crumbling of hill gravel and the bleat of a goat on some hill-side, all +made a cheerful accompaniment to the scraping of his boots on the rocky +road. + +He remembered the way as if he had travelled it yesterday. Soon the +gorge would narrow and he would be almost at the water's edge. Then the +path turned to the right and wound into the heart of a side nullah, +which at length brought it out on a little plateau of rocks. There the +road climbed a long ridge till at last it reached the great plateau, +where Forza, set on a small hilltop, watched thirty miles of primeval +desert. The air was growing chilly, for the road climbed steeply and +already it was many thousand feet above the sea. The curious salt smell +which comes from snow and rock was beginning to greet his nostrils. The +blood flowed more freely in his veins, and insensibly he squared his +shoulders to drink in the cold hill air. It was of the mountains and +yet strangely foreign, an air with something woody and alpine in the +heart of it, an air born of scrub and snow-clad rock, and not of his own +free spaces of heather. But it was hill-born, and this contented him; +it was night-born, and it refreshed him. In a little the road turned +down to the stream side, and he was on the edge of a long dark pool. + +The river, which made a poor show in the broad channel at Bardur, was +now, in this straitened place, a full lipping torrent of clear, green +water. Lewis bathed his flushed face and drank, and it was as cold as +snow. It stung his face to burning, and as he walked the heartsome glow +of great physical content began to rise in his heart. He felt fit and +ready for any work. Life was quick in his sinews, his brain was a +weathercock, his strength was tireless. At last he had found a man's +life. He had never had a chance before. Life had been too easy and +sheltered; he had been coddled like a child; he had never roughed it +except for his own pleasure. Now he was outside this backbone of the +world with a task before him, and only his wits for his servant. Eton +and Oxford, Eton and Oxford--so it had been for generations--an +education sufficient to damn a race. Stocks was right, and he had all +along been wrong; but now he was in a fair way to taste the world's iron +and salt, and he exulted at the prospect. + +It was hard walking in the nullah. In and out of great crevices the +road wound itself, on the brink of stupendous waterfalls, or in the +heart of a brushwood tangle. Soon a clear vault of sky replaced the +out-jutting crags, and he came out on a little plateau where a very cold +wind was blowing. The smell of snow was in the air, a raw smell like +salt when carried on a north wind over miles of granite crags. But on +the little tableland the moon was shining clearly. It was green with +small cloud-berries and dwarf juniper, and the rooty fragrance was for +all the world like an English bolt or a Highland pasture. Lewis flung +himself prone and buried his face among the small green leaves. Then, +still on the ground, he scanned the endless yellow distance. Mountains, +serrated and cleft as in some giant's play, rose on every hand, while +through the hollows gleamed the farther snow-peaks. This little bare +plateau must be naked to any eye on any hill-side, and at the thought he +got to his feet and advanced. + +At first sight the place had looked not a mile long, but before he got +to the farther slope he found that it was nearer two. The mountain air +had given him extraordinary lightness, and he ran the distance, finding +the hard, sandy soil like a track under his feet. The slope, when he +had reached it, proved to be abrupt and boulder-strewn, and the path had +an ugly trick of avoiding steepness by skirting horrible precipices. +Luckily the moon was bright, and the man was an old mountaineer; +otherwise he might have found a grave in the crevices which seamed the +hill. + +He had not gone far when he began to realize that he was not the only +occupant of the mountain side. A whistle which was not a bird's seemed +to catch his ear at times, and once, as he shrank back into the lee of a +boulder, there was the sound of naked feet on the road before him. This +was news indeed, and he crept very cautiously up the rugged path. Once, +when in shelter, he looked out, and for a second, in a patch of +moonlight, he saw a man with the loose breeches and tightened girdle of +the hillmen. He was running swiftly as if to some arranged place of +meeting. + +The sight put all doubts out of his head. An attack on Forza was +imminent, and this was the side from which least danger would be +expected. If the enemy got there before him they would find an easy +entrance. The thought made him quicken his pace. These scattered +tribesmen must meet before they attacked, and there might still be time +for him to get in front. His ears were sharp as a deer's to the +slightest sound. A great joy in the game possessed him. When he +crouched in the shelter of a granite boulder or sprawled among the scrub +while the light footsteps of a tribesman passed on the road he felt that +one point was scored to him in a game in which he had no advantages. He +blessed his senses trained by years of sport to a keenness beyond a +townsman's; his eye, which could see distances clear even in the misty +moonlight; his ear, which could judge the proximity of sounds with a +nice exactness. Twice he was on the brink of discovery. A twig snapped +as he lay in cover, and he heard footsteps pause, and he knew that a +pair of very keen eyes were scanning the brushwood. He blessed his +lucky choice in clothes which had made him bring a suit so near the hue +of his hiding-place. Then he felt that the eyes were averted, the +footsteps died away, and he was safe. Again, as he turned a corner +swiftly, he almost came on the back of a man who was stepping along +leisurely before him. For a second he stopped, and then he was back +round the corner, and had swung himself up to a patch of shadow on the +crag-side. He looked down and saw his enemy clearly in the moonlight; a +long, ferret-faced fellow, with a rifle hung on his back and an ugly +crooked knife in his hand. The man looked round, sniffing the air like +a stag, and then, satisfied that there was nothing to fear, turned and +went on. Lewis, who had been sitting on a sharp jag of rock, swung an +aching body to the ground and advanced circumspectly. + +In an hour or two he came to the top of the slope and the beginning of +the second tableland. A grey dimness was taking the place of the dark, +and it had suddenly grown bitterly cold. Dawn in such high latitudes is +not a thing of violent changes, but of slow and subtle gradations of +light, of sudden, coy flushes of colour, of thin winds and bright +fleeting hazes. He lay for a minute in the scrub of cloud-berries, the +collar of his coat buttoned round his throat, and the morning wind, +fresh from leagues of snow, blowing chill on his face. Behind was the +slope alive with men who at any moment might emerge on the plateau. He +waited for the sight of a figure, but none came; clearly the muster was +not yet complete. A thought grew in his brain, and a sudden clearness +in the air translated it into action; for in the hazy distance across +the tableland he saw the walls of Forza fort. + +The place could not be two miles off, and between it and him there was +the smooth benty plateau. He might make a rush for it and cross +unobserved. Even now the early sun was beginning to strike it. The +yellow-grey walls stood out clear against the far line of mountains, and +the wisp of colour which fluttered in the wind was clearly the British +flag. The exceeding glory of the morning gave him a new vigour. Why +should not he run with any tribesman of the lot? If he could but avoid +the risk of a rifle bullet at the outset, he would have no fear of the +issue. + +He glanced behind him. The place seemed still, though far down there +was a tinkle as of little stones falling. He stood up, straightened +himself for one moment till he had filled his lungs with the clean air. +Then he started to run quickly towards the fort. + +The full orb of the sun topped the mountains and the dazzle was in his +eyes from the first. If he covered the first half-mile unpursued he +would be safe; otherwise he might expect a bullet. It was a comic +feeling--the wide green heath, the fresh air, the easy vigour in his +stride, the flush of the morning sun, and that awkward, nervous weakness +in the small of his back where a bullet might be expected to find a +lodgment. + +He never looked back till he had gone what seemed to him the proper +distance, and then he glanced hurriedly over his shoulder. + +Two men had emerged from the scrub and stood on the edge of the slope. +They were gazing intently at him, and suddenly one lifted a Snider to +his shoulder and fired. The bullet burrowed in the sand to the right of +him. Again he looked back and there they were--five of them now--crying +out to him. Then with one accord they followed over the plateau. + +It was now a clear race for life. He must keep beyond reasonable +rifle-shot; otherwise a broken leg might bring him to a standstill. He +cursed the deceptive clearness of the hill air which made it impossible +for his unpractised eye to judge distances. The fort stood clear in +every stone, but it might be miles off though it looked scarcely a +thousand yards. Apparently it was still asleep, for no smoke was +rising, and, strain his ears as he might, he could hear no sound of a +sentry's walk. This looked awkward indeed for him. If the people were +not awake to receive him, he would be potted against its wall as surely +as a rat in a corner. He grew acutely nervous, and as he drew nearer he +made the air hideous with shouts to wake the garrison. A clear race in +the open he did not mind; but he had no stomach for a game of +hide-and-seek around an unscalable wall with an active enemy. + +Apparently the gentry behind him were growing despondent. Two rifle +bullets, fired by running men, sang unsteadily in his wake. He was now +so near that he could see the rough wooden gate and the pyramidal nails +with which it was studded. He could guess the number of paces between +him and safety. He was out of breath and a little tired, for the +scramble up the nullah had not been a light one. Again he yelled +frantically to the dead walls, beseeching their inmates to get out of +bed and save his life. + +There was still no sound from the sleeping fortress. He was barely a +hundred yards off, and he saw now that the walls were too high to climb +and that nothing remained but the gate. He picked up a stone and flung +it against the woodwork. The din echoed through the empty place, but +there was no sound of life. Just at the threshold there was a patch of +shadow. It was his one way of escape, and as he reached the door and +kicked and hammered at the wood, he cowered down in the shade, praying +that his friends behind might be something less than sharpshooters. + +The pursuit saw its chance, and running forward to get within easy +range, proceeded to target practice. Lewis, kicking diligently at the +door, was trying to draw himself into the smallest space, and his mind +was far from comfortable. It needs good nerves to fill the position of +a target with equanimity, and he was too tired to take it in good part. +A disagreeable cold sweat stood on his brow, and his heart beat +violently. Then a bullet did what all his knocking had failed to do, +for it crashed into the woodwork and woke the garrison. He heard feet +hurrying across a yard, and then it seemed to him that men were +reconnoitring from the top of the wall. A second later--when the third +bullet had buried itself in dust a foot beyond his head--the heavy gate +was half opened and a man's hand assisted him to crawl inside. + +He looked up to see a tall figure in pyjamas standing over him. "Now I +wonder who the deuce you are?" it was saying. + +"My name's Haystoun. H-a-y-s;" then he broke off and laughed. He had +fallen into his old trick of spelling his name to the Oxford tradesmen +when he was young and hated to have it garbled. + +He looked up at the questioner again. "Bless me, Andy, so it's you." + +The man gave a yell of delight. "Lewis, upon my soul. Who'd have +thought it? It is a Providence. By Gad, I believe I'm just in time to +save your life." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE HILL-FORT + + +Lewis got to his feet and blinked at the morning sun across the yard. + +"That was a near shave. Phew, I hate being a target for sharpshooting! +These devils are your friends the Bada-Mawidi." + +"The deuce they are," said Andover lugubriously. "I always knew it. +I've told Holm a hundred times, and now here is the beggar away sick and +I am left to pay the piper." + +"I know. I met him in Bardur, and that's why I'm here. He told me to +tell you to mind the north gate." + +"More easily said than done. We're too few by half here if things get +nasty. How was the chap looking?" + +"Pretty miserable. Thwaite and I put him to bed. Then they sent me off +here, for I've got news for you. You know a man called Marker?" + +Andover nodded. + +"I was dining with him the day before yesterday, and yesterday morning I +got a note from him. He says that he has heard from some private source +that the Bada-Mawidi were arming and proposed an attack on Forza to-day. +He thinks they may have got their arms from the other side, you know. +At any rate he asked me to try to let you hear, and when I saw Holm last +night and heard that such a thing was possible, I came off at once. I +suppose Marker is the sort of man who should know." + +"What did Thwaite say?" + +"He was keen that I should come at once. Do you think that it's a false +alarm?" + +"Oh, it will be genuine enough on Marker's part, but he may have been +misinformed. What beats me is the attack by day. I know the Badas as I +know my own name, and they're too few at the best to have any chance of +rushing the place. Besides, they are poor fighters in the open. On the +other hand they are devils incarnate in a night attack, as we used to +find to our cost. You are sure he said to-day?" + +"Sure. Some time this morning." + +"Wonder what their game is. However, he ought to be right if anybody +is, and we are much obliged to you for your trouble. You had a pretty +hard time in the open, but how on earth did you get up the hill?" + +"Deerstalking style. It was good sport. But for heaven's sake, Andy, +give me breakfast, and tell me what you want me to do. I am under your +orders now." + +"You'd better feed and then sleep for a bit. If you don't mind I'll +leave you, for I've got to be very busy. And poor old Holm looked +pretty sick, did he? Well, I am glad he has been saved this affair +anyhow." + +A Sikh orderly brought Lewis breakfast. Beyond the tent door there was +stir in the garrison. Men were deployed in the yard, Gurkhas mainly, +with a few Kashmir sepoys, and the loud harsh voice of Andover was +raised to give orders. It was a hot still morning, with something +thunderous in the air. Hot sulphurous clouds were massing on the +western horizon, and the cool early breeze had gone. The whole place +smelt of powder. + +Half-way through the meal Andover returned, his lean face red with +exertion. "I've got things more or less in order. They may easily +starve us out, for we are wretchedly provisioned, but I don't think +they'll get us with a rush. I wonder when the show is to commence." He +drank some coffee, and then filled a pipe. + +"I left a man at Nazri. If the thing turns out to be a small affair I +am to meet him there to-night; but if I don't come he is to know that it +is serious and go and warn the Khautmi people. You haven't a connection +by any chance?" + +"No. Wish we had. The heliograph is no good, and the telegraph is +still under the consideration of some engineer man. But how do you +propose to get to Nazri? It's only twelve miles, but they are mostly up +on end." + +"I did it when I was here before. It's easy enough if you have done any +rock-climbing, and I can leave with the light. Besides, there's a +moon." + +Andover laughed. "You've turned over a new leaf, Lewis. Your energy +puts us all to shame. I wish I had your physical gifts, my son. The +worst of being long and lanky in a place like this is that you're always +as stiff as a poker. I shall die of sciatica before I am forty. But +upon my word it is queer meeting you here in the loneliest spot in +creation. When I saw you in town before I came out, you were going into +Parliament or some game of that kind. Then I heard that you had been +out here, and gone back; and now for no earthly reason I waken up one +fine morning to find you being potted at before my gate. You're as +sudden as Marker, and a long chalk more mysterious." + +Lewis looked grave. "I wish Marker were only as simple as me, or I as +sudden as him. It's a gift not learned in a day. Anyhow I'm here, and +we've got a day's sport before us. Hullo, the ball seems about to open." +Little puffs of smoke and dust were rising from beyond the wall, and on +the heavy air came the faint ping-ping of rifles. + +Andover stretched himself elaborately. "Lord alive, but this is absurd. +What do these beggars expect to do? They can't shell a fort with stolen +expresses." + +The two men went up to the edge of the wall and looked over the plateau. +A hundred yards off stood a group of tribesmen formed in some semblance +of military order, each with a smoking rifle in his hand. It was like a +parody of a formation, and Andover after rubbing his eyes burst into a +roar of laughter. + +"The beggars must be mad. What in heaven's name do they expect to do, +standing there like mummies and potting at a stone wall? There's two +more companies of them over there. It isn't war, it's comic opera." And +he sat down, still laughing, on the edge of a gun-case to put on the +boots which his orderly had brought. + +It was comic opera, but the tinge of melodrama was not absent. When a +sufficient number of rounds had been fired, the tribesmen, as if acting +on half-understood instructions from some prehistoric manual, slung +their rifles on their shoulders and came on. The fire from the fort did +not stop them, though it broke their line. In a minute they were +clutching at every hand-grip and foothold on the wall, and Andover with +a beaming face directed the disposition of his men. + +Forza is built of great, rough stones, with ends projecting in places +cyclopean-wise, which to an active man might give a foothold. The +little garrison was at its posts, and picked the men off with carbines +and revolvers, and in emergencies gave a brown chest the straight +bayonet-thrust home. The tribesmen fought like fiends, scrambling up +silently with long knives between their teeth, till a shot found them +and they rolled back to die on the sand at the foot. Now and again +a man would reach the parapet and spring down into the courtyard. Then +it was the turn of Andover and Lewis to account for him, and they did +not miss. One man with matted hair and beard was at Lewis's back before +he saw him. A crooked knife had nearly found that young man's neck, but +a lucky twisting aside saved him. He dodged his adversary up and down +the yard till he got his pistol from his inner pocket. Then it was his +turn to face about. The man never stopped and a ball took him between +the eyes. He dropped dead as a stone, and his knife flying from his +hand skidded along the sand till it stopped with a clatter on the +stones. The sound in the hot sulphurous air grated horribly, and Lewis +clapped his hands to his ears to find that he too had not come off +scathless. The knife had cut the lobe, and, bleeding like a pig, he +went in search of water. + +The assailants seemed prepared to find paradise speedily, for they were +not sparing with their lives. The attacking party was small, and +apparently there was no reserve, for in all the wide landscape there was +no sign of man. Then for no earthly reason the assault was at an end. +One by one the men dropped back and disappeared from the plateau. There +was no overt signal, no sound; but in a little the annoyed garrison were +looking at vacancy and one another. + +"This is the devil's own business," said Andover, rubbing his eyes. The +men, too astonished to pick off stragglers, allowed the enemy to melt +into space; then they set themselves down with rifles cuddled up to +their chins, and stared at Andover. + +"It beats me," said that disturbed man. "How many killed?" + +"Seven," said a sergeant. "About five more wounded. None of us +touched, barring a bullet in my boot, and two Johnnies slashed on the +cheek. Seems to me as if the gen'lman, Mr. 'Aystoun, was 'it, though." + +At the word Andover ran for his quarters, where he found his servant +dressing Lewis's wounded ear. That young man with a face of great +despair was inclining his head over a basin. + +"What's the matter, Andy? Don't tell me the show has stopped. I +thought they were game to go on for hours, and I was just coming to join +you." + +"They've gone, every mother's son of them. I told you it was comic +opera all along. Seven of them have found the part too much for them, +but the rest have cleared out like smoke. I give it up." + +Lewis stared at the speaker, his brain busy with a problem. For a +moment before the fight, and for a little during its progress he had +been serenely happy. He had done something hard and perilous; he had +risked bullets; he had brought authentic news of a real danger. He was +happily at peace with himself; the bland quiet of conscience which he +had not felt for months had given him the vision of a new life. But the +danger had faded away in smoke; and here was Andover with a mystified +face asking its meaning. + +"I swear that those fellows never had the least intention of beating us. +There were far too few of them for one thing. They looked like +criminals fighting under sentence, you know, like the Persian fellows. +It was more like some religious ceremony than a fight. The whole thing +is beyond me, but I think no harm's done. Hang it, I wish Holm were +here. He's a depressing beggar, but he takes responsibility off my +shoulders." + +The dead men were buried as quickly and decently as the place allowed +of. Things were generally cleaned up, and by noon the little fort was +as spick as if the sound of a rifle had never been heard within its +walls. Lewis and Andover had the midday meal in a sort of gun-room +which looked over the edge of the plateau to a valley in the hills. It +had been arranged and furnished by a former commandant who found in the +view a repetition of the one in a much-loved Highland shooting-box. +Accordingly it was comfortable and homelike beyond the average of +frontier dwellings. Outside a dripping mist had clouded the hills and +chilled the hot air. + +The two men smoked silently, knocking out their ashes and refilling with +the regularity of clockwork. Lewis was thinking hard, thinking of the +bitterness of dashed hopes, of self-confidence clutched at and lost. He +saw as if in an inspiration the trend of Marker's plans. He had been +given a paltry fictitious errand, like a bone to a dog, to quiet him. +Some devilry was afoot and he must be got out of the road. For a second +the thought pleased him, the thought that at least one man held him +worthy of attention, and went out of his way to circumvent him. But the +gleam of satisfaction was gone in a moment. He could not even be sure +that there was guile at the back of it. It might be all foolish +honesty, and to a man cursed with a sense of weakness the thought of +such a pedestrian failure was trebly intolerable. + +But honesty was inconceivable. He and he alone in all the frontier +country knew Marker and his ways. To Andover, sucking his pipe dismally +beside him, the thing appeared clear as the daylight. Marker, the best +man alive, had word of some Bada-Mawidi doings and had given a friendly +hint. It was not his blame if the thing had fizzled out like damp +powder. But to Lewis, Marker was a man of uncanny powers and +intelligence beyond others, the iron will of the true adventurer. There +must be devilry behind it all, and to the eye of suspicion there was +doubt in every detail. And meantime he had fallen an easy victim. +Marooned in this frontier fort, the world might be turned topsy-turvy at +Bardur, and he not a word the wiser. Things were slipping from his +grasp again. He had an intense desire to shut his eyes and let all +drift. He had done enough. He had come up here at the risk of his +neck; fate had fought against him, and he must succumb. The fatal +wisdom of proverbs was all on his side. + +But once again conscience assailed him. Why had he believed Marker, +knowing what he knew? He had been led by the nose like a crude +school-boy. It was nothing to him that he had to believe or remain idle +in Bardur. Another proof of his folly! This importunate sense of +weakness was the weakest of all qualities. It made him a nervous and +awkward follower of strength, only to plunge deeper into the mud of +incapacity. + +Andover looked at him curiously. His annoyance was of a different +stamp--a little disappointment, intense boredom, and the ever-present +frontier anxiety. But such were homely complaints to be forgotten over +a pipe and in sleep. It struck him that his companion's eyes betrayed +something more, and he kicked him on the shins into attention. + +"Been seedy lately? Have some quinine. Or if you can't sleep I can +tell you a dodge. But you know you are looking a bit cheap, old man." + +"I'm pretty fit," said Lewis, and he raised his brown face to a glass. +"Why I'm tanned like a nigger and my eye's perfectly clear." + +"Then you're in love," said the mysterious Andover. "Trust me for +knowing. When a man keeps as quiet as you for so long, he's either in +love or seedy. Up here people don't fall in love, so I thought it must +be the other thing." + +"Rot," said Lewis. "I'm going out of doors. I must be off pretty soon, +if I'm to get to Nazri by sundown. I wish you'd come out and show me +the sort of lie of the land. There are three landmarks, but I can't +remember their order." + +An hour later the two men returned, and Lewis sat down to an early +dinner. He ate quickly, and made up sandwiches which he stuffed into +his pocket. Then he rose and gripped his host's hand. + +"Good-bye, Andy. This has been a pleasant meeting. Wish it could have +been longer." + +"Good-bye, old chap. Glad to have seen you. My love to George, if you +get to Nazri. Give you three to one in half-crowns you won't get there +to-night." + +"Done," said Lewis. "You shall pay when I see you next." And in the +most approved style of the hero of melodrama he lit a short pipe and +went off into Immensity. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE WAY TO NAZRI + + +Our traveller did not reach Nazri that night for many reasons, of which +the chief shall be told. The way to Nazri is long and the way to Nazri +is exceedingly rough. Leaving the table-land you plunge down a +trackless gully into the dry bed of a stream. Thence it is an hour's +uneasy walking among stagnant pools and granite boulders to the foot of +another nullah which runs up to the heart of the hills. From this you +pick your way along the precipitous side of a mountain, and if your head +is good and your feet sure, may come eventually to a place like the roof +of the house, beyond which lies a thicket of thorn-bushes and the Nazri +gully. At first sight the thing seems impossible, but by a bold man it +can be crossed either in the untanned Kashmir shoes or with the naked +feet. + +Lewis had not gone a mile and had barely reached the dry watercourse, +when the weather broke utterly in a storm of mist and fine rain. At +other times this chill weather would have been a comfort, but here in +these lonely altitudes, with a difficult path before him, its result was +to confound confusion. So long as he stuck to the stream he had some +guidance; it was hard, even when the air was like a damp blanket, to +mistake the chaos of boulder and shingle which meant the channel. But +the mist was close to him and wrapped him in like a quilt, and he looked +in vain for the foot of the nullah he must climb. He tried keeping by +the edge and feeling his way, but it only landed him in a ditch of +stagnant slime. The thing was too vexatious, and his temper went; and +with his temper his last chance of finding his road. When he had +stumbled for what seemed hours he sat down on a boulder and whistled +dismally. The stream belonged to another watershed. If he followed it, +assuming that he did not break his neck over a dry cataract, he would be +through the mountains and near Taghati quicker than he intended. +Meantime the miserable George would wait at Nazri, would rouse the +Khautmi garrison on a false alarm, and would find himself irretrievably +separated from his friend. The thought was so full of irritation, that +he resolved not to stir one step further. He would spend the night if +need be in this place and wait till the mist lifted. + +He found a hollow among the boulders, and improvidently ate half his +store of sandwiches. Then, finding his throat dry, he got up to hunt +for water. A trickle afar off in the rocks led him on, and sure enough +he found water; but when he tried to retrace his steps to his former +resting place he found that he had forgotten the way. This new place +was conspicuously less sheltered, but he sat down on the wet gravel, lit +a pipe with difficulty, and with his knees close to his chin strove to +possess his soul in patience. + +He was tired, for he had slept little for two days, and the closer air +of the ravine made him drowsy. He had lost any sense of discomfort from +the wet, and was in the numb condition of the utterly drenched. He +could not spend the night like this, so he roused himself and stood +staring, pipe in teeth, into the drizzle. The mist seemed clearer. He +was a little stupid, so he did not hear the sound of feet on stones till +they were almost on him. Then through the haze he saw a procession of +figures moving athwart the channel. They were not his countrymen, for +they walked with the stoop forward which no Englishman can ever quite +master in his hill-climbing. Lewis turned to flee, but in his numbness +of mind and body missed footing, and fell sprawling over a bank of +shingle. He scrambled to his feet only to find hands at his throat, and +himself a miserable prisoner. + +The scene had shifted with a vengeance, and his first and sole impulse +was to laugh. It is possible that if the scarf of a brawny tribesman +had not been so tight across his chest he would have astonished his +captors with hysterical laughter. But the jolt as he was dragged up +hill, tied close to a horse's side, was unfavourable to merriment, and +raw despondency filled his soul. This was the end of his fine doings. +The prisoner of unknown bandits, hurried he knew not whence, a pretty +pass for an adventurer. This was the seal on his ineffectiveness. Shot +against a rock, held up to some sordid ransom, he was as impotent for +good or ill as if he had stayed at home. For a second he longed to pull +horse and captor with one wrench over the brink to the kindly gulf where +all was quiet. + +The bitterest ill-humour possessed this meekest of men. Normally he +would have been afraid, for he was an imaginative being who feared +horrors and had little relish for them. But there is a certain perfect +bad temper which casteth out fear, and this held him in its grip. He +cursed the mountain solitude and he cursed the Bada-Mawidi with awful +directness. Then he chose silence as the easier part, and trudged like +a stolid criminal till, half in a daze of weariness and sleep, he found +that the cavalcade had halted. + +The place was the edge of a little tableland where in a hollow among +rocks lay a collection of mud-walled huts. A fire, in spite of the damp +weather, blazed cheerfully in the midst of the clearing. There was +commotion in the huts, every door was opened, and evil-smelling people +poured forth with cries and questions. The leader of the newly arrived +party bowed himself before a short, square man whom we have met before, +and spoke something in his ear. Fazir Khan looked up sharply at Lewis, +then laughed, and spoke something to his men in his own tongue. + +Lewis comprehended barely a few words of Chil, the Bada tongue, and he +knew little of the frontier speeches. But to his amazement the chief +addressed him in tolerable, if halting, English. It was not for nothing +that Fazir Khan had harried the Border and sojourned incognito in every +town in North India. + +"Allah has given thee to us, my son," he said sweetly. "It is vain to +fight against God. I have heard of thee as the Englishman who would +know more than is good for man to know. You were at Forza to-day." + +Lewis's temper was at its worst. "I was at Forza to-day, and I watched +your people running. Had they waited a little longer we should have +slain them all, and then have come for you." + +The chief smiled unpleasantly. "My people did not fight at Forza +to-day. That was but the sport to draw on fools. Soon we shall fight +in earnest, but in a different place, and thou shalt not see." + +"I am your prisoner," said Lewis grimly, "and it is in your power to do +with me as you please. But remember that for every hair of my head my +people will take the lives of four of your cattle-lifters." + +"That is an old story," said Fazir Khan wearily, "and I have heard it +many times before. You speak boldly like a man, and because you are not +afraid I will tell you the truth. In a very little there will be not +one of your people in the land, only the Bada-Mawidi, and others whom I +do not name." + +"That is a still older story. I have heard it since I was in my +mother's arms. Do you think to frighten me by such a tale?" + +"Let us not talk of fear," said the chief with some politeness. "There +are two races in your people, one which talks and allies itself with +Bengalis and swine, and one which lives in hard places and follows war. +The second I love, and had it been possible, I would have allied myself +with it and driven the others into the sea." This petty chieftain spoke +with the pride of one who ruled the destinies of the earth. + +Lewis was unimpressed. "I am tired of your riddles," he said. "If you +would kill me have done with it. If you would keep me prisoner, give me +food and a place to sleep. But if you would be merciful, let me go and +show me the way to Bardur. Life is too short for waiting." + +Fazir Khan laughed loudly, and spoke something to his people. + +"You shall join in our company for the night," he said. "I have eaten +of the salt of your people and I do not murder without cause. Also I +love a bold man." + +Lewis was led into the largest of the huts and given food and warm Hunza +wine. The place was hot to suffocation; large beads of moisture stood +on the mud walls, and the smell of uncleanly clothing and sweating limbs +was difficult to stand. But the man's complexion was hard, and he made +an excellent supper. Thereafter he became utterly drowsy. He had it in +his mind to question this Fazir Khan about his dark sayings, but his +eyes closed as if drawn by a magnet and his head nodded. It may have +been something in the wine; it may have been merely the vigil of the +last night, and the toil of the past hours. At any rate his mind was +soon a blank, and when a servant pointed out a heap of skins in a +corner, he flung himself on them and was at once asleep. He was utterly +at their mercy, but his course, had he known it, was the wisest. Even a +Bada's treachery has its limits, and he will not knife a confident +guest. The men talked and wrangled, ate and drank, and finally snored +around him, but he slept through it all like a sleeper of Ephesus. + +When he woke the hut was cleared. The village slept late but he had +slept later, for the sun was piercing the unglazed windows and making +pattern-work on the earth floor. He had slept soundly a sleep haunted +with nightmares, and he was still dazed as he peered out into the square +where men were passing. He saw a sentry at the door of his hut, which +reminded him of his condition. All the long night he had been far away, +fishing, it seemed to him, in a curious place which was Glenavelin, and +yet was ever changing to a stranger glen. It was moonlight, still, +bright and warm on all the green hill shoulders. He remembered that he +caught nothing, but had been deliriously happy. People seemed passing +on the bank, Arthur and Wratislaw and Julia Heston, and all his +boyhood's companions. He talked to them pleasantly, and all the while +he was moving up the glen which lay so soft in the moonlight. He +remembered looking everywhere for Alice Wishart, but her face was +wanting. Then suddenly the place seemed to change. The sleeping glen +changed to a black sword-cut among rocks, his friends disappeared, and +only George was left. He remembered that George cried out something and +pointed to the gorge, and he knew--though how he knew it he could not +tell--that the lost Alice was somewhere there before him in the darkness +and he must go towards her. Then he had wakened shivering, for in that +darkness there was terror as well as joy. + +He went to the door, only to find himself turned back by the sheep-skin +sentry, who half unsheathed for his benefit an ugly knife. He found +that his revolver, his sole weapon, had been taken while he slept. +Escape was impossible till his captors should return. + +A day of burning sun had followed on the storm. Out of doors in the +scorching glare from the rock there seemed an extraordinary bustle. It +was like the preparations for a march, save that there seemed no method +in the activity. One man burnished a knife, a dozen were cleaning +rifles, and all wore the evil-smelling finery with which the hillman +decks his person for war. Their long oiled hair was tied in a sort of +rude knot, new and fuller turbans adorned the head, and on the feet were +stout slippers of Bokhara make. Lewis had keen eyesight, and he strove +to read the marks on the boxes of cartridges which stood in a corner. +It was not the well-known Government mark which usually brands stolen +ammunition. The three crosses with the crescent above--he had seen them +before, but his memory failed him. It might have been at Bardur in the +inn; it might have been at home in the house of some great traveller. +At any rate the sight boded no good to himself or the border peace. He +thought of George waiting alone at Nazri, and then obediently warning +the people at Khautmi. By this time Andover would know he was missing, +and men would be out on a very hopeless search. At any rate he had done +some good, for if the Badas meant marching they would find the garrisons +prepared. + +About noon there was a bustle in the square and Fazir Khan with a dozen +of his tail swaggered in. He came straight to the hut, and two men +entered and brought out the prisoner. Lewis stiffened his back and +prepared not reluctantly for a change in the situation. He had no +special fear of this smiling, sinister chieftain. So far he had been +spared, and now it seemed unlikely that in the midst of this bustle of +war there would be room for the torture which alone he dreaded. So he +met the chief's look squarely, and at the moment he thanked the lot +which had given him two more inches of height. + +"I have sent for thee, my son," said Fazir Khan, "that you may see how +great my people is." + +"I have seen," said Lewis, looking round. "You have a large collection +of jackals, but you will not bring many back." + +The notion tickled Fazir Khan and he laughed with great good-humour. +"So, so," he cried. "Behold how great is the wisdom of youth. I will +tell you a secret, my son. In a little the Bada-Mawidi, my people, will +be in Bardur and a little later in the fat corn lands of the south, and +I, Fazir Khan, will sit in King's palaces." He looked contemptuously +round at his mud walls, his heart swelling with pride. + +"What the devil do you mean?" Lewis asked with rising suspicion. This +was not the common talk of a Border cateran. + +"I mean what I mean," said the other. "In a little all the world shall +see. But because I have a liking for a bold cockerel like thee, I will +speak unwisely. The days of your people are numbered. This very night +there are those coming from the north who will set their foot on your +necks." + +Lewis went sick at heart. A thousand half-forgotten suspicions called +clamorously. This was the secret of the burlesque at Forza, and the new +valour of the Badas. He saw Marker's game with the fatal clearness of +one who is too late. He had been given a chance of a little piece of +service to avert his suspicions. Marker had fathomed him well as one +who must satisfy a restless conscience but had no stomach for anything +beyond. Doubtless he thought that now he would be enjoying the rest +after labour at Forza, flattering himself on saving a garrison, when all +the while the force poured down which was to destroy an empire. An army +from the north, backed and guided by every Border half-breed and +outlaw--what hope of help in God's name was to be found in the sleepy +forts and the unsuspecting Bardur? + +And the Kashmir and the Punjab? A train laid in every town and village. +Supplies in readiness, communications waiting to be held, railways ready +for capture. Europe was on the edge of a volcano. He saw an outbreak +there which would keep Britain employed at home, while the great power +with her endless forces and bottomless purse poured her men over the +frontier. But at the thought of the frontier he checked himself. There +was no road by which an army could march; if there was any it could be +blocked by a handful. A week's, a day's delay would save the north, and +the north would save the empire. + +His voice came out of his throat with a crack in it like an old man's. + +"There is no road through the mountains. I have been there before and I +know." + +Again Fazir Khan smiled. "I use no secrecy to my friends. There is a +way, though all men do not know it. From Nazri there is a valley +running towards the sunrise. At the head there is a little ridge easily +crossed, and from that there is a dry channel between high precipices. +It is not the width of a man's stature, so even the sharp eyes of my +brother might miss it. Beyond that there is a sandy tableland, and then +another valley, and then plains." + +The plan of the place was clear in Lewis's brain. He remembered each +detail. The long nullah on which he had looked from the hill-tops had, +then, an outlet, and did not end, as he had guessed, in a dead wall of +rock. Fool and blind! to have missed so glorious a chance! + +He stood staring dumbly around him, unconscious that he was the +laughingstock of all. Then he looked at the chief. + +"Am I your prisoner?" he asked hoarsely. + +"Nay," said the other good-humouredly, "thou art free. We have +over-much work on hand to-day to be saddled with captives." + +"Then where is Nazri?" he asked. + +The chief laughed a loud laugh of tolerant amusement. "Hear to the bold +one," he cried. "He will not miss the great spectacle. See, I will +show you the road," and he pointed out certain landmarks. "For one of +my own people it is a journey of four hours; for thee it will be +something more. But hurry, and haply the game will not have begun. If +the northern men take thee I will buy thy life." + +Four hours; the words rang in his brain like a sentence. He had no +hope, but a wild craving to attempt the hopeless. George might have +returned to Nazri to wait; it was the sort of docile thing that George +would do. In any case not five miles from Nazri was the end of the +north road and a little telegraph hut used by the Khautmi forts. The +night would be full moonlight; and by night the army would come. His +watch had been stolen, but he guessed by the heavens that it was some +two hours after noon. Five hours would bring him to Nazri at six, in +another he might be at the hut before the wires were severed. It was a +crazy chance, but it was his all, and meanwhile these grinning tribesmen +were watching him like some curious animal. They had talked to him +freely to mock his feebleness. His dominant wish was to escape from +their sight. + +He turned to the descent. "I am going to Nazri," he said. + +The chief held out his pistol. "Take your little weapon. We have no +need of such things when great matters are on hand. Allah speed you, +brother! A sure foot and a keen eye may bring you there in time for the +sport." And, still laughing, he turned to enter the hut. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +EVENING IN THE HILLS + + +The airless heat of afternoon lay on the rocks and dry pastures. The +far snow-peaks, seen for a moment through a rift in the hills, shimmered +in the glassy stillness. No cheerful sound of running water filled the +hollows, for all was parched and bare with the violence of intemperate +suns and storms. Soon he was out of sight and hearing of the village, +travelling in a network of empty watercourses, till at length he came to +the long side of mountain which he knew of old as the first landmark of +the way. A thin ray of hope began to break up his despair. He knew now +the exact distance he had to travel, for his gift had always been an +infallible instinct for the lie of a countryside. The sun was still +high in the heavens; with any luck he should be at Nazri by six o'clock. + +He was still sore with wounded pride. That Marker should have divined +his weakness and left open to him a task in which he might rest with a +cheap satisfaction was bitter to his vanity. The candour of his mind +made him grant its truth, but his new-born confidence was sadly +dissipated. And he felt, too, the futility of his efforts. That one +man alone in this precipitous wilderness should hope to wake the Border +seemed a mere nightmare of presumption. But it was possible, he said to +himself. Time only was needed. If he could wake Bardur and the north, +and the forts on the passes, there would be delay enough to wake India. +If George were at Nazri there would be two for the task; if not, there +would be one at least willing and able. + +It was characteristic of the man that the invasion was bounded for him +by Nazri and Bardur. He had no ears for ultimate issues and the ruin of +an empire. Another's fancy would have been busy on the future; Lewis +saw only that pass at Nazri and the telegraph-hut beyond. He must get +there and wake the Border; then the world might look after itself. As +he ran, half-stumbling, along the stony hillside he was hard at work +recounting to himself the frontier defences. The Forza and Khautmi +garrisons might hold the pass for an hour if they could be summoned. It +meant annihilation, but that was in the bargain. Thwaite was strong +enough in Bardur, but the town might give him trouble of itself, and he +was not a man of resources. After Bardur there was no need of thought. +Two hours after the telegraph clicked in the Nazri hut, the north of +India would have heard the news and be bestirring itself for work. In +five hours all would be safe, unless Bardur could be taken and the wires +cut. There might be treason in the town, but that again was not his +affair. Let him but send the message before sunset, and he would still +have time to get to Khautmi, and with good luck hold the defile for +sixty minutes. The thought excited him wildly. His face dripped with +sweat, his boots were cut with rock till the leather hung in shreds, and +a bleeding arm showed through the rents in his sleeve. But he felt no +physical discomfort, only the exhilaration of a rock climber with the +summit in sight, or a polo player with a clear dribble before him to the +goal. At last he was playing a true game of hazard, and the chance gave +him the keenest joy. + +All the hot afternoon he scrambled till he came to the edge of a new +valley. Nazri must lie beyond, he reasoned, and he kept to the higher +ground. But soon he was mazed among precipitous shelves which needed +all his skill. He had to bring his long stride down to a very slow and +cautious pace, and, since he was too old a climber to venture rashly, he +must needs curb his impatience. He suffered the dull recoil of his +earlier vigour. While he was creeping on this accursed cliff the +minutes were passing, and every second lessening his chances. He was in +a fever of unrest, and only a happy fortune kept him from death. But at +length the place was passed, and the mountain shelved down to a plateau. +A wide view lay open to the eye, and Lewis blinked and hesitated. He +had thought Nazri lay below him, and lo! there was nothing but a tangle +of black watercourses. + +The sun had begun to decline over the farther peak, and the man's heart +failed him utterly. These unkind stony hills had been his ruin. He was +lost in the most formidable country on God's earth, lost! when his +whole soul cried out for hurry. He could have wept with misery, and +with a drawn face he sat down and forced himself to think. + +Suddenly a long, narrow black cleft in the farther tableland caught his +eye. He took the direction from the sun and looked again. This must be +the Nazri Pass, which he had never before that day heard of. He saw +where it ended in a stony valley. Once there he had but to follow the +nullah and cross the little ridge to come to Nazri. + +Weariness was beginning to grow on him, but the next miles were the +quickest of the day. He seemed to have the foot of a chamois. Down the +rocky hillside, across the chaos of boulders, and up into the dark +nullah he ran like a maniac. His mouth was parched with thirst, and he +stopped for a moment in the valley bottom to swallow some rain-water. +At last he found himself in the Nazri valley, with the thin sword-cut +showing dark in the yellow evening. Another mile and he would be at the +camping-place, and in five more at the hut. + +He kept high up on the ridge, for the light had almost gone and the +valley was perilous. It must be hideously late, eight o'clock or more, +he thought, and his despair made him hurry his very weary limbs. +Suddenly in the distant hollow he saw the gleam of a fire. He stopped +abruptly and then quickened with a cry of joy. It must be the faithful +George still waiting in the place appointed. Now there would be two to +the task. But it was too late, he bitterly reflected. In a little the +moon would rise, and then at any moment the van of the invader might +emerge from the defile. He might warn Bardur, but before anything could +be done the enemy would be upon them. And then there would be a +southward march upon a doubtful and half-awakened country, and then--he +knew not. + +But there was one other way. It had not occurred to him before, for it +is not an expedient which comes often to men nowadays, save to such as +are fools and outcasts. We are a wise and provident age, mercantile in +our heroics, seeking a solid profit for every sacrifice. But this +man--a child of the latter day--had not the new self-confidence, and he +was at the best high-strung, unwise, and unworldly. Besides, he was +broken with toil and excited with adventure. The last dying rays of the +sun were resting on the far snow walls, and the great heart of the west +burned in one murky riot of flame. But to the north, whence came +danger, there was a sea of yellow light, islanded with faint roseate +clouds like some distant happy country. The air of dusk was thin and +chill but stirring as wine to the blood, and all the bare land was for +the moment a fairy realm, mystic, intangible and untrodden. The +frontier line ran below the camping place; here he was over the border, +beyond the culture of his kind. He was alone, for in this adventure +George would not share. He would earn nothing, in all likelihood he +would achieve nothing; but by the grace of God he might gain some +minutes' respite. He would be killed; but that, again, was no business +of his. At least he could but try, for this was his one shred of hope +remaining. + +The thought, once conceived, could not be rejected. He was no coward or +sophist to argue himself out of danger. He laid no flattering unction +to his soul that he had done his best while another way remained +untried. For this type of man may be half-hearted and a coward in +little matters, but he never deceives himself. We have all our own +virtues and their defects. I am a well-equipped and confident person, +walking bluffly through the world, looking through and down upon my +neighbours, the incarnation of honesty; but I can find excuses for +myself when I desire them, I hug my personal esteem too close, and a +thousand to one I am too great a coward at heart to tell myself the +naked truth. You, on the other hand, are vacillating and ill at your +ease. You shrink from the hards of life which I steer happily through. +But you have no delusions with yourself, and the odds are that when the +time comes you may choose the "high that proved too high" and achieve +the impossibly heroic. + +A tired man with an odd gleam in his eye came out of the shadows to the +firelight and called George by name. + +"My God, Lewis, I am glad to see you! I thought you were lost. Food?" +and he displayed the resources of his larder. + +Lewis hunted for the water-bottle and quenched his thirst. Then he ate +ravenously of the cold wild-fowl and oatcake which George had provided. +He was silent and incurious till he had satisfied his wants; then he +looked up to meet George's questions. + +"Where on earth have you been? Andover said you started out to come +here last night. I did as you told me, you know, and when you didn't +come I roused the Khautmi people. They swore a good deal but turned +out, and after an infernal long climb we got to Forza. We roused up +Andover after a lot of trouble, and he took us in and gave us supper. +He said you had gone off hours ago, and that the Bada-Mawidi business +had been more or less of a fraud. So I slept there and came back here +in the morning in case you should turn up. Been shooting all day, but +it was lonely work and I didn't get the right hang of the country. +These beggars there are jolly little use," and he jerked his head in the +direction of the native servants. "What _have_ you been after?" + +"I? Oh, I've been in queer places. I fell into the hands of the Badas +a couple of hours after I left Forza. There was a storm up there and I +got lost in the mist. They took me up to a village and kept me there +all night. And then I heard news--my God, such news! They let me go +because they thought I could do no harm and I ran most of the way here. +Marker has scored this time, old man. You know how he has been going +about all North India for the last year or two getting things much his +own way. Well, to-night when the moon rises the great blow is to be +struck. It seems there is a pass to the north of this; I knew the place +but I didn't know of the road. There is an army coming down that place +in an hour or so. It is the devil's own business, but it has got to be +faced. We must warn Bardur, and trust to God that Bardur may warn the +south. You know the telegraph hut at the end of the road, when you +begin to climb up the ravine to the place? You must get down there at +once, for every moment is precious." + +George had listened with staring eyes to the tale. "I can't believe +it," he managed to ejaculate. "God, man! it's invasion, an unheard-of +thing!" + +"It's the most desperate truth, unheard-of or no. The whole thing lies +in our hands. They cannot come till after midnight, and by that time +Thwaite may be ready in Bardur, and the Khautmi men may be holding the +road. That would delay them for a little, and by the time they took +Bardur they might find the south in arms. It wouldn't matter a straw if +it were an ordinary filibustering business. But I tell you it's a great +army, and everything is prepared for it. Marker has been busy for +months. There will be outbreaks in every town in the north. The +railways and arsenals will be captured before ever the enemy appears. +There will be a native rising. That was to be bargained for. But God +only knows how the native troops have been tampered with. That man was +as clever as they make, and he has had a free hand. Oh the blind +fools!" + +George had turned, and was buttoning the top button of his shooting-coat +against the chilly night wind. "What shall I say to Thwaite?" he +asked. + +"Oh, anything. Tell him it's life or death. Tell him the facts, and +don't spare. You'll have to impress on the telegraph clerk its +importance first and that will take time. Tell him to send to Gilgit +and Srinagar, and then to the Indus Valley. He must send into Chitral +too and warn Armstrong. Above all things the Kohistan railway must be +watched, because it must be their main card. Lord! I wish I understood +the game better. Heaven knows it isn't my profession. But Thwaite will +understand if you scare him enough. Tell him that Bardur must be held +ready for siege at any moment. You understand how to work the thing?" + +George nodded. "There'll be nobody there, so I suppose I'll have to +break the door open. I think I remember the trick of the business. +_Then_, what do I do?" + +"Get up to Khautmi as fast as you can shin it. Better take the servants +and send them before you while you work the telegraph. I suppose +they're trustworthy. Get them to warn Mitchinson and St. John. They +must light the fires on the hills and collect all the men they can spare +to hold the road. Of course it's a desperate venture. We'll probably +all be knocked on the head, but we must risk it. If we can stop the +beggars for one half-hour we'll give Thwaite a better chance to set his +house in order. How I'd sell my soul to see a strong man in Bardur! +That will be the key of the position. If the place is uncaptured +to-morrow morning, and your wires have gone right, the chief danger on +this side will be past. There will be little risings of wasps' nests up +and down the shop, but we can account for them if this army from the +north is stopped." + +"I wonder how many of us will see to-morrow morning," said George +dismally. He was not afraid of death, but he loved the pleasant world. + +"Good-bye," said Lewis abruptly, holding out his hand. + +The action made George realize for the first time the meaning of his +errand. + +"But, I say, Lewie, hold on. What the deuce are you going to do?" + +"I am dog-tired," said the impostor. "I must wait here and rest. I +should only delay you." And always, as if to belie his fatigue, his eyes +were turning keenly to the north. At any moment while he stood there +bandying words there might come the sound of marching, and the van of +the invaders issue from the defile. + +"But, hang it, you know. I can't allow this. The Khautmi men mayn't +reach you in time, and I'm dashed if I am going to leave you here to be +chawed up by Marker. You're coming with me." + +"Don't be an ass," said Lewis kindly. This parting, one in ignorance, +the other in too certain knowledge, was very bitter. "They can't be here +before midnight. They were to start at moonrise, and the moon is only +just up. You'll be back in heaps of time, and, besides, we'll soon all +be in the same box." + +It was a false card to play, for George grew obstinate at once. "Then +I'm going to be in the same box as you from the beginning. Do you +really think I am going to desert you? Hang it, you're more important +than Bardur." + +"Oh, for God's sake, listen to reason," Lewis cried in despair. "You +must go at once. I can't or I would. It's our only chance. It's a +jolly good chance of death anyway, but it's a naked certainty unless you +do this. Think of the women and children and the people at home. You +may as well talk about letting the whole thing slip and getting back to +Bardur with safe skins. We must work the telegraph and then try to hold +the road with the Khautmi men, or be cowards for evermore. We're +gentlemen, and we are responsible." + +"I didn't mean it that way," said George dismally. "But I want you to +come with me. I can't bear the thought of your being butchered here +alone, supposing the beggars come before we get back. You're sure there +is time?" + +"You've three hours before you, but every moment is important. This is +the frontier line, and this fire will do for one of the signals. You'll +find me here. I haven't slept for days." And he yawned with feigned +drowsiness. + +"Then--good-bye," said George solemnly, holding out his hand a second +time. "Remember, I'm devilish anxious about you. It's a pretty hot job +for us all; but, gad! if we pull through you get the credit." + +Then with a single backward glance he led the way down the narrow track, +two mystified servants at his heels. + +Lewis watched him disappear, and then turned sadly to his proper +business. This was the end of a very old song, and his heart cried out +at the thought. He heaped more wood on the blaze from the little pile +collected, and soon a roaring, boisterous fire burned in the glen, while +giant shadows danced on the sombre hills. Then he rummaged in the tent +till he found the rifles, carefully cleaned and laid aside. He selected +two express 400 bores, a Metford express and a smooth-bore Winchester +repeater. Then he filled his pockets with cartridges, and from a small +box took a handful for his revolver. All this he did in a sort of +sobbing haste, turning nervous eyes always to the mouth of the canyon. +He filled his flask from a case in the tent, and, being still ravenously +hungry, crammed the remnants of supper into a capacious game-pocket. +Then, all preparations being made, he looked for a moment down the road +where his best friend had just gone out of his ken for ever. The +thought was so dreary that he did not dare to delay longer, but with a +bundle of ironmongery below his arms began to scramble up the glen to +where the north star burned between two peaks of hill. + +He did the journey in an hour, for he was in a pitiable state of +anxiety. Every moment he looked to hear the tramp of an army before +him, and know his errand of no avail. Over the little barrier ridge he +scrambled, and then up the straight gully to the little black rift which +was the gate of an empire. His unquiet mind peopled the wilderness with +voices, but when, breathless and sore, he came into the jaws of the +pass, all was still, silent as the grave, save for an eagle which +croaked from some eyrie in the cliffs. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +EVENTS SOUTH OF THE BORDER + + +Thwaite was finishing a solitary dinner and attempting to find interest +in a novel when his butler came with news that the telephone bell was +ringing in the gun-room. Thwaite, being tired and cross, told him to +answer it himself, expecting some frivolous message about supplies. The +man returned in a little with word that he could not understand it. +Then Thwaite arose, blessing him, and went to see. The telegraph office +proper was on the other side of the river, on the edge of the native +town, but a telephone had been established to the garrison. + +Thwaite's first impulse was to suspect a gigantic hoax. A scared native +clerk was trying to tell him a most appalling tale. George had not +spared energy in his message, and the Oriental imagination as a medium +had considerably increased it. The telegrams came in a confused order, +hard to piece together, but two facts seemed to stand out from the +confusion. One was that there was an unknown pass in the hills beyond +Nazri through which danger was expected at any moment that night; the +other was that treason was suspected throughout the whole north. Then +came the name of Marker, which gave Thwaite acute uneasiness. Finally +came George's two words of advice--keep strict watch on the native town +and hold Bardur in readiness for a siege; and wire the same directions +to Yasin, Gilgit, Chitral, Chilas, and throughout Kashmir and the +Punjab. Above all, wire to the chief places on the new Indus Valley +railway, for in case of success in Bardur, the railway would be the +first object of the invader. + +Thwaite put down the ear-trumpet, his face very white and perspiring. +He looked at his watch; it was just on nine o'clock. The moon had +arisen and the telegram said "moonrise." He could not doubt the +genuineness of the message when he had heard at the end the names +Winterham and Haystoun. Already Marker might be through the pass, and +little the Khautmi people could do against him. He must be checked at +Bardur, though it cost every life in the garrison. Four hours' delay +would arm the north to adequate resistance. + +He telephoned to the telegraph office to shut and lock the doors and +admit no one till word came from him. Then he summoned his Sikh +orderly, his English servant, and the native officers of the garrison. +He had one detachment of Imperial Service troops officered by Punjabis, +and a certain force of Kashmir Sepoys who made ineffective policemen, +and as soldiers were worse than useless. And with them he had to defend +the valley, and hold the native town, which might give trouble on his +flank. This was the most vexatious part of the business. If Marker had +organized the thing, then nothing could be unexpected, and treachery was +sure to be thick around them. + +The men came, saluted, and waited in silence. Thwaite sat down at a +table and pulled a sheaf of telegraph forms to pieces. First he wired +to Ladcock at Gilgit, beseeching reinforcements. From Bardur to the +south there is only one choice of ways--by Yasin and Yagistan to the +Indus Valley, or by Gilgit and South Kashmir. Once beyond Gilgit there +was small hope of checking an advance, but in case the shorter way to +the Indus by the Astor Valley was tried there might be hope of a delay. +So he besought Ladcock to post men on the Mazeno Pass if the time was +given him. Then he sent a like message to Yasin, though on the high +passes and the unsettled country there was small chance of the wires +remaining uncut. A force in Yasin might take on the flank any invasion +from Afghanistan and in any case command the Chitral district. Then +came a series of frantic wires at random--to Rawal Pindi, to the Punjabi +centres, to South Kashmir. He had small confidence in these messages. +If the local risings were serious, as he believed them to be, they would +be too late, and in any case they were beyond the country where +strategical points were of advantage against an invader. There remained +the stations on the Indus Valley railway, which must be +the earliest point of attack. The terminus at Boonji was held by a +certain Jackson, a wise man who inspired terror in a mixed force of +irregulars, Afridis, Pathans, Punjabis, Swats, and a dozen other +varieties of tribesmen. To him he sent the most lengthy and urgent +messages, for he held the key of a great telegraphic system with which +he might awake Abbotabad and the Punjab. Then, perspiring with heat and +anxiety, he gave the bundle into the hands of his English servant, and +told off an officer and twenty men to hold the telegraph office. A blue +light was to be lit in the window if the native town should prove +troublesome and reinforcements be needed. + +Soon the force of the garrison was assembled in the yard, all but a few +who had been sent on messages to the more isolated houses of the English +residents. Thwaite addressed them briefly: "Men, there's the devil's +own sweet row up the north, and it's moving down to us. This very night +we may have to fight. And, remember, it's not the old game with the +hillmen, but an army of white men, servants of the Tsar, come to fight +the servants of the Empress. Therefore, it is your duty to kill them +all like locusts, else they will swallow up you and your cattle and your +wives and your children, and, speaking generally, the whole bally show. +We may be killed, but if we keep them back even for a little God will +bless us. So be steady at your posts." + +The garrison was soon dispersed, the guns in readiness, pointing up the +valley. It was ten o'clock by Thwaite's watch ere the last click of the +loaders told that Bardur was awaiting an enemy. The town behind was in +an uproar, men clamouring at the gates, and seeking passports to flee to +the south. Chinese and Turcoman traders from Leh and Lhassa, Yarkand +and Bokhara, with scared faces, were getting their goods together and +invoking their mysterious gods. Logan, who had returned from Gilgit +that very day, rode breathless into the yard, clamouring for Thwaite. +He received the tale in half a dozen sentences, whistled, and turned to +go, for he had his own work to do. One question he asked: + +"Who sent the telegrams?" + +"Haystoun and Winterham." + +"Then they're alone at Nazri?" + +"Except for the Khautmi men." + +"Will they try to hold it?" + +"I should think so. They're all sportsmen. Gad, there won't be a soul +left alive." + +Logan galloped off with a long face. It would be a great ending, but +what a waste of heroic stuff! And as he remembered Lewis's frank +good-fellowship he shut his lips, as if in pain. + +The telegrams were sent, and reply messages began to pour in, which kept +one man at the end of the telephone. About half-past ten a blue light +burned in the window across the river. There seemed something to do in +the native town of narrow streets and evil-smelling lanes, for the sound +of shouting and desultory firing rose above the stir of the fort. The +telegraph office abutted on the far end of the bridge, and Thwaite had +taken the precaution of bidding the native officer he had sent across +keep his men posted around the end of the passage. Now he himself took +thirty men, for the native town was the most dangerous point he had to +fear. The wires must not be cut till the last moment, and, as they +passed over the bridge and then through the English quarter, there was +small danger if the office was held. He found, as he expected, that the +place was being maintained against considerable odds. A huge mixed +crowd, drawn in the main from the navvies who had been employed on the +new road, armed with knives and a few rifles, and encouraged by certain +wild, dancing figures which had the look of priests, was surging around +the gate. The fighting stuff was Afridi or Chitrali, but there was +abundance of yelling from this rabble of fakirs and beggars who +accompanied them. Order there was none, and it was clear to Thwaite +that this rising had been arranged for but not organized. His men had +small difficulty in forcing a way to the office, where they served to +complete the cordon of defence and the garrison of the bridge-end. Two +men had been killed and some half-dozen of the rioters. He pushed into +the building, and found a terrified Kashmir clerk sternly watched by his +servant and the Sikh orderly. The man, with tears streaming down his +face, was attempting to read the messages which the wires brought. + +Thwaite picked up and read the latest, which was a scrawl in quavering +characters over three telegraph forms. It was from Ladcock at Gilgit, +saying that he was having a row of his own with the navvies there, and +that he could send no reinforcements at present. If he quieted the +trouble in time he would try and hold the Mazeno Pass, and meanwhile he +had done his best to wake the Punjab. As the wires would be probably +cut within the next hour there would be no more communications, but he +besought Thwaite to keep the invader in the passes, as the whole south +country was a magazine waiting for a spark to explode. The message ran +in short violent words, and Thwaite had a vision of Ladcock, short, +ruddy, and utterly out of temper, stirred up from his easy life to hold +a frontier. + +There was no word from Yasin, as indeed he had expected, for the tribes +on the highlands about Hunza and Punial were the most disaffected on the +Border, and doubtless the first to be tampered with. Probably his own +message had never gone, and he could only pray that the men there might +by the grace of God have eyes in their heads to read the signs of the +times. There was a brief word from Jackson at Boonji. There attacks +had been made on the terminus and the engine-sheds since sunset, which +his men had luckily had time to repulse. A large amount of +rolling-stock was lying there, as five freight trains had brought up +material for the new bridge the day before. Of this the enemy had +probably had word. Anyhow, he hoped to quiet all local disturbances, +and he would undertake to see that every station on the line was warned. +He would receive reinforcements from Abbotabad by the afternoon of the +next day; if Bardur and Gilgit, or Yasin as it might be, could delay the +attack till then everything might be safe--unless, indeed, the whole +nexus of hill-tribes rose as one man. In which case there would be the +devil to pay, and he had no advice to give. + +Thwaite read and laughed grimly. It was not a question of a day's +delay, but of an hour's, and the hill-tribes, if he judged Marker's +cleverness rightly, would act just as Jackson feared. The business had +begun among the navvies at Bardur and Gilgit and Boonji. In a little +they would have news of real tribal war--Hunzas, Pathans, Chitralis, +Punialis, and Chils, tribes whom England had fought a dozen times before +and knew the mettle of; now would be the time for their innings. Well +supplied with money and arms--this would have been part of Marker's +business--they would be the forerunners of the great army. First savage +war, then scientific annihilation by civilized hands--a sweet prospect +for a peaceful man in the prime of life! + +He returned to the fort to find all quiet and in order. It commanded +the north road, but though the eye might weary itself with looking on +the moonlit sandy valley and the opaque blue hills, there was no sight +or sound of men. The stars were burning hard and cold in the vault of +sky, and looking down somewhere on the march of an army. It was now +close on midnight; in five hours dawn would break in the east and the +night of attack would be gone. But death waited between this midnight +hour and the morning. What were Haystoun and the men from Khautmi +doing? Fighting or beyond all fighting? Well, he would soon know. He +was not afraid, but this cursed waiting took the heart out of a man! +And he looked at his watch and found it half-past twelve. + + * * * * * + +At Yasin there was the most severe fighting. It lasted for three days, +and in effect amounted to a little tribal war. A man called Mackintosh +commanded, and he had the advantage of having regulars with him, Gurkhas +for the most part, who were old campaigners. The place had seemed +unquiet for some days, and certain precautions had been taken, so that +when the rioting broke out at sunset it was easy to get the town under +subjection and prepare for external attack. The Chiling Pass into +Chitral had given trouble of old, but Mackintosh was scarcely prepared +for the systematic assaults of Punialis and Tangiris from the east and +south. Having always been famous as an alarmist he put the right +interpretation on the business, and settled down to what he half hoped, +half feared, might be a great frontier war. The place was strong only +on the north side, and the defence was as much a question of engineering +as of war. His Sepoys toiled gallantly at the incomplete defences, +while the rest fought hand to hand--bayonet against knife, Metford +against Enfield--to cover their labour. He lost many men, but on the +evening of the next day he had the satisfaction of seeing the +fortifications complete, and he awaited a siege with equanimity, as he +was well victualled. + +On the second night the enemy again attacked, but the moon was bright, +and they were no match for his sharpshooters. About two in the morning +they fell back, and for the next day it looked as if they proposed to +invest the garrison. But by the third evening they began to melt away, +taking with them such small plunder as they had won. Mackintosh, who +was a man of enterprise, told off a detachment for pursuit, and cursed +bitterly the fate which had broken his ankle with a rifle-bullet. + +In the south along the railway the warnings came in good time. At Rawal +Pindi there was some small difficulty with native officials, a large +body of whom seemed to have unaccountably disappeared. This delayed for +some time the sending of a freight-train to Abbotabad, but by and by +substitutes were found, and the works left under guard. The telegram to +Peshawur found things in readiness there, for memories of old trouble +still linger, and people sleep lightly on that frontier. Word came of +native riots in the south, at Lahore and Amritsar, and the line of towns +which mark the way to Delhi. In some places extraordinary accidents +were reported. Certain officers had gone off on holiday and had not +returned; odd and unintelligible commands had come to perplex the minds +of others; whole camps were reported sick where sickness was least +expected. A little rising of certain obscure rivers had broken up an +important highway by destroying all the bridges save the one which +carried the railway. The whole north was on the brink of a sudden +disorganization, but the brink had still to be passed. It lay with its +masters to avert calamity; and its masters, going about with haggard +faces, prayed for daylight and a few hours to prepare. + + * * * * * + +George had sent his men to Khautmi before he entered the telegraph hut, +and he followed himself in twenty minutes. Somewhere upon the hill-road +he met St. John with a dozen men, who abused him roundly and besought +details. + +"Are you sure?" he cried. "For God's sake, say you're mistaken. For, +if you're not, upon my soul it's the last hour for all of us." + +George was in little mood for jest. He told Lewis's tale in a few +words. + +"A pass beyond Nazri," the man cried. "Why, I was there shooting buck +last week. Up the nullah and over the ridge, and then a cleft at the +top of the next valley? Does he say there's a pass there? Maybe, but +I'll be hanged if an army could get through. If we get there we can +hold it." + +"We haven't time. They may be here at any moment. Send men to Forza +and get them to light the fires. Oh, for God's sake, be quick! I've +left Haystoun down there. The obstinate beggar was too tired to move." + +Over all the twenty odd miles between Forza and Khautmi there is a chain +of fires which can be used for signals in the Border wars. On this +night Khautmi was to take the west side of the Nazri gully and Forza the +east, and the two quickest runners in the place were sent off to Andover +with the news. He was to come towards them, leaving men at the +different signal-posts in case of scattered assaults, and if he came in +time the two forces would join in holding the Nazri pass. But should +the invader come before, then it fell on the Khautmi men to stand alone. +It was a smooth green hollow in the stony hills, some hundred yards +wide, and at the most they might hope to make a fight of thirty minutes. +St. John and George, with their men, ran down the stony road till the +sweat dripped from their brows, though the night was chilly. Mitchinson +was to follow with the rest and light the fires; meantime, they must get +to Nazri, in case the march should forestall them. St. John was +cursing his ill-luck. Two hours earlier and they might have held the +distant cleft in the hills, and, if they were doomed to perish, have +perished to some purpose. But the holding of the easy Nazri pass was +sheer idle mania, and yet it was the only chance of gaining some paltry +minutes. As for George, he had forgotten his vexatious. His one +anxiety was for Lewis; that he should be in time to have his friend at +his side. And when at last they came down on the pass and saw the +camp-fire blazing fiercely and no trace of the enemy, he experienced a +sense of vast relief. Lewis was making himself comfortable, cool beggar +that he was, and now was probably sleeping. He should be left alone; so +he persuaded St. John that the best point to take their stand on was on +a shoulder of hill beyond the fire. It gave him honest pleasure to +think that at last he had stolen a march on his friend. He should at +least have his sleep in peace before the inevitable end. + +He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past eleven. + +"Haystoun said they'd be here at midnight," he whispered to his +companion. "We haven't long. When do you suppose Andover will come?" + +"Not for an hour and a half at the earliest. Afraid this is going to be +our own private show. Where's Haystoun?" + +George nodded back to the fire in the hollow, and the tent beside it. +"There, I expect, sleeping. He's dog-tired, and he always was a very +cool hand in a row. He'll be wakened soon enough, poor chap." + +"You're sure he can't tell us anything?" + +"Nothing. He told me all. Better let him be." Mitchinson came up with +the rearguard. Living all but alone in the wilds had made him a silent +man compared to whom the taciturn St. John was garrulous. He nodded to +George and sat down. + +"How many are we?" George asked. + +"Forty-three, counting the three of us. Not enough for a good stand. +Wonder how it'll turn out. Never had to do such a thing before." + +St. John, whose soul longed for Maxims, posted his men as best he +could. There was no time to throw up earthworks, but a rough cairn of +stone which stood in the middle of the hollow gave at least a central +rallying-ground. Then they waited, watching the fleecy night vapours +blow across the peaks and straining their ears for the first sound of +men. + +George grew impatient. "It can't be more than five miles to the pass. +Shouldn't some of us try to get there? It would make all the +difference." + +St. John declined sharply. "We've taken our place and we must stick to +it. We can't afford to straggle. Hullo! it's just on twelve. Thwaite +has had three hours to prepare, and he's bound to have wakened the +south. I fancy the business won't quite come off this time." + +Suddenly in the chilly silence there rose something like the faint and +distant sound of rifles. It was no more than the sound of stone +dropping on a rock ledge, for, still and clear and cold though the night +was, the narrowness of the valley and the height of the cliffs dulled +all distant sounds. But each man had the ear of the old hunter, and +waited with head bent forward. + +Again the drip-drip; then a scattering noise as when one lets peas fall +on the floor. + +"God! That's carbines. Who the devil are they fighting with?" +Mitchinson's eye had lost its lethargy. His scraggy neck was craned +forward, and his grim mouth had relaxed into a grimmer smile. + +"It's them, sure enough," said St. John, and spoke something to his +servant. + +"I'm going forward," said George. "It may be somebody else making a +stand, and we're bound to help." + +"You're bound not to be an ass," said St. John. "Who in the Lord's +name could it be? It may be the Badas polishing off some hereditary +foes, and it may be Marker getting rid of some wandering hillmen. Man, +we're miles beyond the pale. Who's to make a stand but ourselves?" + +Again came the patter of little sounds, and then a long calm. + +"They're through now," said St. John. "The next thing to listen for is +the sound of their feet. When that comes I pass the word along. We're +all safe for heaven, so keep your minds easy." + +But the sound of feet was long in coming. Only the soft night airs, and +at rare intervals an eagle's cry, or the bleat of a doe from the valley +bottom. The first half-hour of waiting was a cruel strain. In such +moments a man's sins rise up large before him. When his future life is +narrowed down to an hour's compass, he sees with cruel distinctness the +follies of his past. A thousand things he had done or left undone +loomed on George's mental horizon. His slackness, his self-indulgence, +his unkindness--he went over the whole innocent tale of his sins. To +the happy man who lives in the open and meets the world with a square +front this forced final hour of introspection has peculiar terrors. +Meantime Lewis was sleeping peacefully in the tent by the still cheerful +fire. Thank God, he was spared this hideous waiting! + +About two Andover turned up with fifteen men, hot and desperate. He +listened to St. John's story in silence. + +"Thank God, I'm in time. Who found out this? Haystoun? Good man, +Lewis! I wonder who has been firing out there. They can't have been +stopped? It's getting devilish late for them anyhow, and I believe +there's a little hope. It would be too risky to leave this pass, but I +vote we send a scout." + +A man was chosen and dispatched. Two hours later he returned to the +mystified watchers at Nazri. He had been on the hill-shoulder and +looked into the cleft. There was no sign of men there, but he had heard +the sound of men, though where he could not tell. Far down the cleft +there was a gleam of fire, but no man near it. + +"That's a Bada dodge," said Andover promptly. "Now I wonder if Marker +trusted too much to these gentry, and they have done us the excellent +service of misleading him. They hate us like hell, and they'd sell +their souls any day for a dozen cartridges; so it can't have been done +on purpose. Seems to me there has been a slip in his plans somewhere." + +But the sound of voices! The man was questioned closely, and he was +strong on its truth. He was a hillman from the west of the Khyber, and +he swore that he knew the sound of human speech in the hills many miles +off, though he could not distinguish the words. + +"In thirty minutes it will be morning," said George. "Lord, such a +night, and Lewis to have missed it all!" His spirits were rising, and he +lit a pipe. The north was safe whatever happened, and, as the inertness +of midnight passed off, he felt satisfaction in any prospect, however +hazardous. He sat down beneath a boulder and smoked, while Andover +talked with the others. They were the frontier soldiers, and this was +their profession; he was the amateur to whom technicalities were +unmeaning. + +Suddenly he sprang up and touched St. John on the shoulder. A great +chill seemed to have passed over the world, and on the hill-tops there +was a faint light. Both men looked to the east, and there, beyond the +Forza hills, was the red foreglow spreading over the grey. It was dawn, +and with the dawn came safety. The fires had burned low, and the +vagrant morning winds were beginning to scatter the white ashes. Now +was the hour for bravado, since the time for silence had gone. St. +John gave the word, and it was passed like a roll-call to left and +right, the farthest man shouting it along the ribs of mountain to the +next watch-fire. The air had grown clear and thin, and far off the dim +repetition was heard, which told of sentries at their place, and the +line of posts which rimmed the frontier. + +Mitchinson moistened his dry lips and filled his lungs with the cold, +fresh air. "That," he said slowly, "is the morning report of the last +outpost of the Empire, and by the grace of God it's 'All's well.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE BLESSING OF GAD + + +"Gad--a troop shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the last." + +Lewis peered into the gorge and saw only a thin darkness. The high +walls made pits of shade at the foot, but above there was a misty column +of light which showed the spectres of rock and bush in the nullah +beyond. It was all but dark, and the stars were coming out like the +lights on a sea-wall, hard and cold and gleaming. Just in the throat of +the pass a huge boulder had fallen and left a passage not two yards +wide. Beyond there was a sharp descent of a dozen feet to the gravelled +bottom which fell away in easier stages to the other watershed. Here +was a place made by nature for his plans. With immense pains he rolled +the biggest stones he could move to the passage, so that they were +poised above the slope. He tried the great boulder, too, with his +shoulders, and it seemed to quiver. In the last resort this mass of +rock might be sent crashing down the incline, and by the blessing of God +it should account for its man. + +He brought his rifles forward to the stones, loaded them and felt the +cartridges easy in his pocket. They were for the thirty-yards range; +his pistol would be kept for closer quarters. He tried one after the +other, cuddling the stocks to his cheek. They were all dear-loved +weapons, used in deer-stalking at home and on many a wilder beat. He +knew the tricks of each, and he had little pet devices laughed at by his +friends. This one had clattered down fifty feet of rock in Ross-shire +as the scars on the stock bore witness, and another had his initials +burned in the wood, the relic of a winter's night in a Finnish camp. A +thousand old pleasant memories came back to him, the sights and scents +and sounds of forgotten places, the zest of toil and escapade, the joy +of food and warmth and rest. Well! he had lived, had tasted to the +full the joys of the old earth, the kindly mother of her children. He +had faced death thoughtlessly many times, and now the Ancient Enemy was +on his heels and he was waiting to give him greeting. A phrase ran in +his head, some trophy from his aimless wanderings among books, which +spoke of death coming easily to one "who has walked steadfastly in the +direction of his dreams." It was a comforting thought to a creature of +moods and fancies. He had failed, doubtless, but he had ever kept some +select fanciful aim unforgotten. In all his weakness he had never +betrayed this ultimate Desire of the Heart. + +Some few feet up the cliff was a little thicket of withered thorns. The +air was chilly and the cleft was growing very black. Why should not he +make a fire behind the great boulder? He gathered some armfuls and +heaped them in a space of dry sand. They were a little wet, so they +burned slowly with a great smoke, which the rising night wind blew +behind him. He was still hungry, so he ate the food he had brought in +his pockets; and then he lit his pipe. How oddly the tobacco tasted in +this moment of high excitement! It was as if the essence of all the +pipes he had ever smoked was concentrated into this last one. The smoke +blew back, and as he sniffed its old homely fragrance he seemed to feel +the smell of peat and heather, of drenched homespun in the snowy bogs, +and the glory of a bright wood fire and the moorland cottage. In a +second his thoughts were many thousand miles away. The night wind +cooled his brow, and he looked into the dark gap and saw his own past. + +The first picture was a cold place on a low western island. Snow was +drifting sparsely, and a dull grey Atlantic swell was grumbling on the +reefs. He was crouching among the withered rushes, where seaweed and +shells had been blown, and snow lay in dirty patches. He felt the thick +collar of his shooting-coat tight about his neck, while the December +evening grew darker and colder. A gillie, who had no English, was lying +at his right hand, and far out at sea a string of squattering geese were +slowly drifting shorewards with the wind. He saw the scene clear in +every line, and he remembered the moment as if it had been yesterday. It +had been one of his periods of great exultation. He had just left +Oxford, and had fled northward after some weeks in Paris to wash out the +taste of civilization from his mouth among the island north-westers. He +had had a great day among the woodcock, and now was finishing with a +stalk after wild geese. He was furiously hungry, chilled and soaked to +the bone, but riotously happy. His future seemed to stretch before him, +a brighter continuation of a bright past, a time for high achievement, +bold work, and yet no surcease of pleasure. He had been master of +himself in that hour, his body firm and strong, his soul clear, his mind +a tempered weapon awaiting his hands. + +And then the scene changed to a June evening in his own countryside. He +was deep in the very heart of the hills beside a little loch, whose +clear waves lapped on beaches of milky sand, it was just on twilight, +and an infinite sighing of soft winds was around him, a far-away +ineffable brightness of sunset, and the good scents of dusk among thyme +and heather. He had fished all the afternoon, and his catch lay on the +bent beside him. He was to sleep the night in his plaid, and already a +fire of heather-roots behind him was prepared for supper. He had been +for a swim, and his hair was still wet on his forehead. Just across a +conical hill rose into the golden air, the highest hill in all the +countryside, but here but a little thing, for the loch was as high as +many a hill-top. Just on its face was a scaur, and there a raven--a +speck--was wheeling slowly. Among the little islands broods of mallard +were swimming, and trout in a bay were splashing with wide circles. The +whole place had seemed caught up into an ecstasy, a riot of gold and +crimson and far-off haunting shades and scents and voices. And yet it +was no wild spectacle; it was the delicate comfort of it all which had +charmed him. Life seemed one glorious holiday, the world a garden of +the gods. There was his home across the hills, with its cool chambers, +its books and pictures, its gardens and memories. There were his +friends up and down the earth. There was the earth itself waiting for +his conquest. And, meantime, there was this airy land around him, his +own by the earliest form of occupation. + +The fire died down to embers and a sudden scattering of ashes woke him +out of his dreaming. The old Scots land was many thousand miles away. +His past was wiped out behind him. He was alone in a very strange +place, cut off by a great gulf from youth and home and pleasure. For an +instant the extreme loneliness of an exile's death smote him, but the +next second he comforted himself. The heritage of his land and his +people was his in this ultimate moment a hundredfold more than ever. +The sounding tale of his people's wars--one against a host, a foray in +the mist, a last stand among the mountain snows--sang in his heart like +a tune. The fierce, northern exultation, which glories in hardships and +the forlorn, came upon him with such keenness and delight that, as he +looked into the night and the black unknown, he felt the joy of a +greater kinship. He was kin to men lordlier than himself, the +true-hearted who had ridden the King's path and trampled a little world +under foot. To the old fighters in the Border wars, the religionists of +the South, the Highland gentlemen of the Cause, he cried greeting over +the abyss of time. He had lost no inch of his inheritance. Where, +indeed, was the true Scotland? Not in the little barren acres he had +left, the few thousands of city-folk, or the contentions of unlovely +creeds and vain philosophies. The elect of his race had ever been the +wanderers. No more than Hellas had his land a paltry local unity. +Wherever the English flag was planted anew, wherever men did their duty +faithfully and without hope of little reward--there was the fatherland +of the true patriot. + +The time was passing, and still the world was quiet. The hour must be +close on midnight, and still there was no sign of men. For the first +time he dared to hope for success. Before, an hour's delay was all that +he had sought. To give the north time for a little preparation, to make +defence possible, had been his aim; now with the delay he seemed to see +a chance for victory. Bardur would be alarmed hours ago; men would be +on the watch all over Kashmir and the Punjab; the railways would be +guarded. The invader would find at the least no easy conquest. When +they had trodden his life out in the defile they would find stronger men +to bar their path, and he would not have died in vain. It was a slender +satisfaction for vanity, for what share would he have in the defence? +Unknown, unwept, he would perish utterly, and to others would be the +glory. He did not care, nay, he rejoiced in the brave obscurity. He +had never sought so vulgar a thing as fame. He was going out of life +like a snuffed candle. George, if George survived, would know nothing +of his death. He was miles beyond the frontier, and if George, after +months of war, should make his way to this fatal cleft, what trace would +he find of him? And all his friends, Wratislaw, Arthur Mordaunt, the +folk of Glenavelin--no word would ever come to them to tell them of his +end. + +But Alice--and in one wave there returned to him the story which he had +striven to put out of his heart. She had known him in his weakness, but +she would never think of him in his strength. The whimsical fate +pleased him. The last meeting on that grey autumn afternoon at the +Broken Bridge had heartened him for his travellings. It had been a +compact between them; and now he was redeeming the promise of the tryst. +And she would never know it, would only know that somewhere and somehow +he had ceased to struggle with an inborn weakness. Well-a-day! It was +no world of rounded corners and complete achievements. It was enough if +a hint, a striving, a beginning were found in the scheme of man's +frailty. He had no clear-cut conception of a future--that was the happy +lot of the strong-hearted--but he had a generous intolerance of little +success. He did not ask rewards, but he prayed for the hope of a good +beginning or a gallant failure. The odd romance which lies in the +wanderer's brain welcomed the paradox. Alice and her bright hair +floated dim on the horizon of his vision, something exquisite and dear, +a memory, a voice, a note of tenderness in this last exhilaration. A +sentimental passion was beyond him; he was too critical of folly to +worship any lost lady; and he had no love for vain reminiscences. But +the girl had become the embodied type of the past. A year ago he had +not seen her, now she was home and childhood and friends to him. For a +moment there was the old heart-hunger, but the pain had gone. The +ineffectual longing which had galled him had perished at the advent of +his new strength. + +For in this ultimate moment he at last seemed to have come to his own. +The vulgar little fears, which, like foxes, gnaw at the roots of the +heart, had gone, even the greater perils of faint hope and a halting +energy. The half-hearted had become the stout-hearted. The resistless +vigour of the strong and the simple was his. He stood in the dark gully +peering into the night, his muscles stiff from heel to neck. The +weariness of the day had gone: only the wound in his ear, got the day +before, had begun to bleed afresh. He wiped the blood away with his +handkerchief, and laughed at the thought of this little care. In a few +minutes he would be facing death, and now he was staunching a pin-prick. + +He wondered idly how soon death would come. It would be speedy, at +least, and final. And then the glory of the utter loss. His bones +whitening among the stones, the suns of summer beating on them and the +winter snowdrifts decently covering them with a white sepulchre. No man +could seek a lordlier burial. It was the death he had always craved. +From murder, fire, and sudden death, why should we call on the Lord to +deliver us? A broken neck in a hunting-field, a slip on rocky +mountains, a wounded animal at bay--such was the environment of death +for which he had ever prayed. But this--this was beyond his dreams. + +And with it all a great humility fell upon him. His battles were all +unfought. His life had been careless and gay; and the noble +commonplaces of faith and duty had been things of small meaning. He had +lived within the confines of a little aristocracy of birth and wealth +and talent, and the great melancholy world scourged by the winds of God +had seemed to him but a phrase of rhetoric. His creeds and his +arguments seemed meaningless now in this solemn hour; the truth had been +his no more than his crude opponent's! Had he his days to live over +again he would look on the world with different eyes. No man any more +should call him a dreamer. It pleased him to think that, half-hearted +and sceptical as he had been, a humorist, a laughing philosopher, he was +now dying for one of the catchwords of the crowd. He had returned to +the homely paths of the commonplace, and young, unformed, untried, he +was caught up by kind fate to the place of the wise and the heroic. + + * * * * * + +Suddenly on his thoughts there broke in a dull tread of men, a sound of +slipping stones and feet upon dry gravel. He broke into the cold sweat +of tense nerves, and waited, half hidden, with his rifle ready. Then +came the light of dull lanterns which showed a thin, endless column +beneath the rock walls. They advanced with wonderful quietness, the +sound of feet broken only by a soft word of command. He calculated the +distance--now it was three hundred yards, now two, now a bare eighty. +At fifty his rifle flew to his shoulder and he fired. His nerves were +bad, for one bullet clicked on the rock, while the second took the dust +a yard before the enemy's feet. Instantly there was a halt and the +sound of speech. + +The failure had steadied him. The second pair of shots killed their +men. He heard the quick cry of pain and shivered. He was new to this +work and the cry hurt him. But he picked up his express and fired +again, and again there was a cry and a fall. Then he heard a word of +command and the sound of men creeping in the side of the nullah. Eye +and ear were marvelously acute at the moment, for he picked out the +scouts and killed them. Then he loaded his rifles and waited. + +He saw a man in the half-light not five yards below him. He fired and +the man dropped, but he had used his rifle and the great spattering of +earth showed his whereabouts. Now was the time for keen eye and steady +arm. The enemy had halted thirty yards off and beneath the slope there +was a patch of darkness. He kept one eye on this, for it might contain +a man. He fixed his attention on a ray of moonlight which fell across +the floor of the gully. When a man crept past this he shot, and he +rarely failed. + +Then a command was given and the column came forward at the double. He +fired two shots, but the advance continued. They passed the ray of +light and he saw the whites of their eyes and the gleam of teeth and +steel. They paused a second to fire a volley, and a storm of shot +rattled about him. He had stepped back into his shelter, and was +unscathed, but when he looked out he saw the enemy at the foot of the +slope. His weapons were all loaded except the express, and in mad haste +he sent shot after shot into the ranks. The fire halted them, and for a +second they were on the edge of a panic. This unknown destruction +coming out of the darkness was terrifying to the stoutest hearts. All +the while there was wrath behind them. This stopping of the advance +column was throwing the whole force into confusion. Angry messages came +up from the centre, and distracted officers cursed their native guides. + +Meanwhile Lewis was something wholly unlike himself, a maddened creature +with every sense on the alert, drinking in the glory of the fight. He +husbanded the chances of his life with generous parsimony. Every chance +meant some minutes' delay and every delay a new link of safety for the +north. His cartridges were getting near an end, but there still +remained the stones and his pistol and the power of his arm hand to +hand. + +Suddenly came a second volley which all but killed him, bullets glancing +on all sides of him and scraping the rocks with a horrid message of +death. Then on the heels of it came a charge up the slope. The turn +had come for the last expedient. He rushed to the stone and with the +strength of madness rooted it from its foundations. It wavered for a +second, and then with a cloud of earth and gravel it plunged downwards. +A second and it had ploughed its way with a sickening grinding sound +into the ranks of the men below. There was one wild scream of terror, +and then a retreat, a flight, almost a panic. + +Down in the hollow was a babel of sound, men yelping with fright, +officers calming and cursing them, and the shouting of the forces +behind. For Lewis the last moment was approaching. The neck of the +pass was now bare and wide and half of the slope was gone. He had lost +his weapons in the fall, all but his express, and the loosening of the +stone had crushed his foot so that he could scarcely stand. Then order +seemed to be restored, for another volley rang out, which passed over +his head as he crouched on the ground. The enemy were advancing slowly, +resolutely. He knew that now there was something different in their +tread. + +He was calm and quiet. The mad exhilaration was ebbing and he was +calculating chances as dispassionately as a scientist in his study. Two +shots, the six chambers of his pistol, and then he would be ground to +powder. The moon rode over the top of the cleft and a sudden wave of +light fell on the slope, the writhing dead, and below, the advancing +column. It gave him a chance for fair shooting, and he did not miss. +But the men were maddened with anger and taunts, and they would have +charged a battery. They came up on the slope with a fierce rush, +cursing in gutturals. He slipped behind the old friendly jag of rock +and waited till they were abreast. Then began a strange pistol +practice. Crouching in the darkness he selected his men and shot them, +making no mistake. The front ranks of the column turned to the right +and lunged with their bayonets into the gloom. But the man knew his +purpose. He climbed farther back till he was above their heads, looking +down on ranks of white inhuman faces mad with slaughter and the courage +which is next door to fear. They were still advancing, but with an +uncertain air. He saw his chance and took it. Crying out he knew not +what, he leapt among them with clutched rifle, striking madly to right +and left. There was a roar of fright, and for a moment a space was +cleared around him. He fought like a maniac, stumbling with his crushed +foot and leaving two men stunned at his feet. But it was only for a +moment. A bayonet entered his side and his rifle snapped at the stock. +He grappled with the nearest man and pulled him to the ground, for he +could stand no longer. Then there came a wild surge around, a dozen +bayonets pierced him, and in the article of death he was conscious of a +great press which ground him into the earth. The next moment the column +was marching over his body. + + * * * * * + +Dawn came with light and sweet airs to the dark cleft in the hills. +Just at that moment, when the red east was breaking into spires and +clouds of colour, and the little morning winds were beginning to flutter +among the crags, two men were standing in the throat of the pass. The +ground about them was ploughed up as if by a battery, the rock seamed +and broken, and red stains of blood were on the dry gravel. From the +north, in the direction of the plain, came the confused sound of an army +in camp. But to the south there was a glimpse through an aperture of +hill of a far side of mountain, and on it a gleam as of fire. + +Marka, clad in the uniform of a captain of Cossacks, looked fiercely at +his companion and then at the beacon. + +"Look," he said, "look and listen!" And sure enough in the morning +stillness came the sound as of a watchword cried from post to post. + +"That," said he, "is the morning signal of an awakened empire and the +final proof of our failure." + +"It was no fault of mine," said Fazir Khan sourly. "I did as I was +commanded, and lo! when I come I find an army in confusion and the +frontier guarded." The chief spoke with composure, but he had in his +heart an uneasy consciousness that he had had some share in this +undoing. + +Marka looked down at a body which lay wrinkled across the path. It was +trodden all but shapeless, the poor face was unrecognizable, the legs +were scrawled like a child's letters. Only one hand with a broken gold +signet-ring remained to tell of the poor inmate of the clay. + +The Cossack looked down on the dead with a scowling face. "Curse +him--curse him eternally. Who would have guessed that this fool, this +phrasing fool, would have spoiled our plans? Curse his conscience and +his honour, and God pity him for a fool! I must return to my troops, +for this is no place to linger in." The man saw his work of years +spoiled in a night, and all by the agency of a single adventurer. He +saw his career blighted, his reputation gone. It is not to be wondered +at if he was bitter. + +He turned to go, and in leaving pushed the dead man over with his foot. +He saw the hand and the broken ring. + +"This thing was once a gentleman," he said, and he went down the pass. + +But Fazir Khan remained by the body. He remembered his guest of two +days before, and he cursed himself for underrating this wandering +Englishman. He saw himself in evil case. His chances of spoil and +glory had departed. He foresaw expeditions of reprisal, and the +Bada-Mawidi hunted like partridges upon the mountains. He had staked his +all on a desperate chance, and this one man had been his ruin. For a +moment the barbarian came out, and in a sudden ferocity he kicked the +dead. + +But as he looked again he was moved to a juster appreciation. + +"This thing was a man," he said. + +Then stooping he dipped his finger in blood and touched his forehead. +"This man," he said, "was of the race of kings." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HALF-HEARTED*** + + +******* This file should be named 17047-8.txt or 17047-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17047 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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