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diff --git a/old/17732-0.txt b/old/17732-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3c7c706..0000000 --- a/old/17732-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4048 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -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: Tales Of Hearsay - -Author: Joseph Conrad - -Release Date: February 9, 2006 [EBook #17732] -Last Updated: March 2, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -TALES OF HEARSAY - -BY JOSEPH CONRAD - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1911, 1917, 1918, BY THE METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE CO. GARDEN -CITY, N. Y. - - - - -CONTENTS - -The Warrior's Soul - -Prince Roman - -The Tale - -The Black Mate - - - - - -THE WARRIOR'S SOUL (1917) - - -The old officer with long white moustaches gave rein to his indignation. - -“Is it possible that you youngsters should have no more sense than that! -Some of you had better wipe the milk off your upper lip before you start -to pass judgment on the few poor stragglers of a generation which has -done and suffered not a little in its time.” - -His hearers having expressed much compunction the ancient warrior became -appeased. But he was not silenced. - -“I am one of them--one of the stragglers, I mean,” he went on -patiently. “And what did we do? What have we achieved? He--the great -Napoleon--started upon us to emulate the Macedonian Alexander, with -a ruck of nations at his back. We opposed empty spaces to French -impetuosity, then we offered them an interminable battle so that their -army went at last to sleep in its positions lying down on the heaps of -its own dead. Then came the wall of fire in Moscow. It toppled down on -them. - -“Then began the long rout of the Grand Army. I have seen it stream on, -like the doomed flight of haggard, spectral sinners across the innermost -frozen circle of Dante's Inferno, ever widening before their despairing -eyes. - -“They who escaped must have had their souls doubly riveted inside their -bodies to carry them out of Russia through that frost fit to split -rocks. But to say that it was our fault that a single one of them got -away is mere ignorance. Why! Our own men suffered nearly to the limit of -their strength. Their Russian strength! - -“Of course our spirit was not broken; and then our cause was good--it -was holy. But that did not temper the wind much to men and horses. - -“The flesh is weak. Good or evil purpose, Humanity has to pay the price. -Why! In that very fight for that little village of which I have been -telling you we were fighting for the shelter of those old houses as much -as victory. And with the French it was the same. - -“It wasn't for the sake of glory, or for the sake of strategy. The -French knew that they would have to retreat before morning and we knew -perfectly well that they would go. As far as the war was concerned there -was nothing to fight about. Yet our infantry and theirs fought like wild -cats, or like heroes if you like that better, amongst the houses--hot -work enough---while the supports out in the open stood freezing in -a tempestuous north wind which drove the snow on earth and the great -masses of clouds in the sky at a terrific pace. The very air was -inexpressibly sombre by contrast with the white earth. I have never seen -God's creation look more sinister than on that day. - -“We, the cavalry (we were only a handful), had not much to do except -turn our backs to the wind and receive some stray French round shot. -This, I may tell you, was the last of the French guns and it was the -last time they had their artillery in position. Those guns never went -away from there either. We found them abandoned next morning. But that -afternoon they were keeping up an infernal fire on our attacking column; -the furious wind carried away the smoke and even the noise but we could -see the constant flicker of the tongues of fire along the French front. -Then a driving flurry of snow would hide everything except the dark red -flashes in the white swirl. - -“At intervals when the line cleared we could see away across the plain -to the right a sombre column moving endlessly; the great rout of the -Grand Army creeping on and on all the time while the fight on our left -went on with a great din and fury. The cruel whirlwind of snow swept -over that scene of death and desolation. And then the wind fell as -suddenly as it had arisen in the morning. - -“Presently we got orders to charge the retreating column; I don't know -why unless they wanted to prevent us from getting frozen in our saddles -by giving us something to do. We changed front half right and got into -motion at a walk to take that distant dark line in flank. It might have -been half-past two in the afternoon. - -“You must know that so far in this campaign my regiment had never been -on the main line of Napoleon's advance. All these months since the -invasion the army we belonged to had been wrestling with Oudinot in -the north. We had only come down lately, driving him before us to the -Beresina. - -“This was the first occasion, then, that I and my comrades had a close -view of Napoleon's Grand Army. It was an amazing and terrible sight. I -had heard of it from others; I had seen the stragglers from it: small -bands of marauders, parties of prisoners in the distance. But this was -the very column itself! A crawling, stumbling, starved, half-demented -mob. It issued from the forest a mile away and its head was lost in the -murk of the fields. We rode into it at a trot, which was the most we -could get out of our horses, and we stuck in that human mass as if in a -moving bog. There was no resistance. I heard a few shots, half a dozen -perhaps. Their very senses seemed frozen within them. I had time for a -good look while riding at the head of my squadron. Well, I assure you, -there were men walking on the outer edge so lost to everything but -their misery that they never turned their heads to look at our charge. -Soldiers! - -“My horse pushed over one of them with his chest. The poor wretch had a -dragoon's blue cloak, all torn and scorched, hanging from his shoulders -and he didn't even put his hand out to snatch at my bridle and save -himself. He just went down. Our troopers were pointing and slashing; -well, and of course at first I myself... What would you have! An enemy's -an enemy. Yet a sort of sickening awe crept into my heart. There was no -tumult--only a low deep murmur dwelt over them interspersed with louder -cries and groans while that mob kept on pushing and surging past us, -sightless and without feeling. A smell of scorched rags and festering -wounds hung in the air. My horse staggered in the eddies of swaying -men. But it was like cutting down galvanized corpses that didn't care. -Invaders! Yes... God was already dealing with them. - -“I touched my horse with the spurs to get clear. There was a sudden rush -and a sort of angry moan when our second squadron got into them on our -right. My horse plunged and somebody got hold of my leg. As I had no -mind to get pulled out of the saddle I gave a back-handed slash without -looking. I heard a cry and my leg was let go suddenly. - -“Just then I caught sight of the subaltern of my troop at some little -distance from me. His name was Tomassov. That multitude of resurrected -bodies with glassy eyes was seething round his horse as if blind, -growling crazily. He was sitting erect in his saddle, not looking down -at them and sheathing his sword deliberately. - -“This Tomassov, well, he had a beard. Of course we all had beards then. -Circumstances, lack of leisure, want of razors, too. No, seriously, we -were a wild-looking lot in those unforgotten days which so many, so very -many of us did not survive. You know our losses were awful, too. Yes, we -looked wild. _Des Russes sauvages_--what! - -“So he had a beard--this Tomassov I mean; but he did not look _sauvage_. -He was the youngest of us all. And that meant real youth. At a distance -he passed muster fairly well, what with the grime and the particular -stamp of that campaign on our faces. But directly you were near enough -to have a good look into his eyes, that was where his lack of age -showed, though he was not exactly a boy. - -“Those same eyes were blue, something like the blue of autumn skies, -dreamy and gay, too--innocent, believing eyes. A topknot of fair hair -decorated his brow like a gold diadem in what one would call normal -times. - -“You may think I am talking of him as if he were the hero of a novel. -Why, that's nothing to what the adjutant discovered about him. He -discovered that he had a 'lover's lips'--whatever that may be. If the -adjutant meant a nice mouth, why, it was nice enough, but of course it -was intended for a sneer. That adjutant of ours was not a very delicate -fellow. 'Look at those lover's lips,' he would exclaim in a loud tone -while Tomassov was talking. - -“Tomassov didn't quite like that sort of thing. But to a certain extent -he had laid himself open to banter by the lasting character of his -impressions which were connected with the passion of love and, perhaps, -were not of such a rare kind as he seemed to think them. What made -his comrades tolerant of his rhapsodies was the fact that they were -connected with France, with Paris! - -“You of the present generation, you cannot conceive how much prestige -there was then in those names for the whole world. Paris was the centre -of wonder for all human beings gifted with imagination. There we were, -the majority of us young and well connected, but not long out of our -hereditary nests in the provinces; simple servants of God; mere rustics, -if I may say so. So we were only too ready to listen to the tales of -France from our comrade Tomassov. He had been attached to our mission -in Paris the year before the war. High protections very likely--or maybe -sheer luck. - -“I don't think he could have been a very useful member of the mission -because of his youth and complete inexperience. And apparently all his -time in Paris was his own. The use he made of it was to fall in love, to -remain in that state, to cultivate it, to exist only for it in a manner -of speaking. - -“Thus it was something more than a mere memory that he had brought with -him from France. Memory is a fugitive thing. It can be falsified, it -can be effaced, it can be even doubted. Why! I myself come to doubt -sometimes that I, too, have been in Paris in my turn. And the long road -there with battles for its stages would appear still more incredible if -it were not for a certain musket ball which I have been carrying about -my person ever since a little cavalry affair which happened in Silesia -at the very beginning of the Leipsic campaign. - -“Passages of love, however, are more impressive perhaps than passages -of danger. You don't go affronting love in troops as it were. They are -rarer, more personal and more intimate. And remember that with Tomassov -all that was very fresh yet. He had not been home from France three -months when the war began. - -“His heart, his mind were full of that experience. He was really awed -by it, and he was simple enough to let it appear in his speeches. He -considered himself a sort of privileged person, not because a woman had -looked at him with favour, but simply because, how shall I say it, he -had had the wonderful illumination of his worship for her, as if it were -heaven itself that had done this for him. - -“Oh yes, he was very simple. A nice youngster, yet no fool; and with -that, utterly inexperienced, unsuspicious, and unthinking. You will find -one like that here and there in the provinces. He had some poetry in him -too. It could only be natural, something quite his own, not acquired. I -suppose Father Adam had some poetry in him of that natural sort. For the -rest _un Russe sauvage_ as the French sometimes call us, but not of that -kind which, they maintain, eats tallow candle for a delicacy. As to the -woman, the French woman, well, though I have also been in France with -a hundred thousand Russians, I have never seen her. Very likely she was -not in Paris then. And in any case hers were not the doors that would -fly open before simple fellows of my sort, you understand. Gilded salons -were never in my way. I could not tell you how she looked, which is -strange considering that I was, if I may say so, Tomassov's special -confidant. - -“He very soon got shy of talking before the others. I suppose the usual -camp-fire comments jarred his fine feelings. But I was left to him -and truly I had to submit. You can't very well expect a youngster in -Tomassov's state to hold his tongue altogether; and I--I suppose you -will hardly believe me--I am by nature a rather silent sort of person. - -“Very likely my silence appeared to him sympathetic. All the month of -September our regiment, quartered in villages, had come in for an easy -time. It was then that I heard most of that--you can't call it a story. -The story I have in my mind is not in that. Outpourings, let us call -them. - -“I would sit quite content to hold my peace, a whole hour perhaps, while -Tomassov talked with exaltation. And when he was done I would still hold -my peace. And then there would be produced a solemn effect of silence -which, I imagine, pleased Tomassov in a way. - -“She was of course not a woman in her first youth. A widow, maybe. At -any rate I never heard Tomassov mention her husband. She had a salon, -something very distinguished; a social centre in which she queened it -with great splendour. - -“Somehow, I fancy her court was composed mostly of men. But Tomassov, I -must say, kept such details out of his discourses wonderfully well. Upon -my word I don't know whether her hair was dark or fair, her eyes brown -or blue; what was her stature, her features, or her complexion. His love -soared above mere physical impressions. He never described her to me in -set terms; but he was ready to swear that in her presence everybody's -thoughts and feelings were bound to circle round her. She was that sort -of woman. Most wonderful conversations on all sorts of subjects went -on in her salon: but through them all there flowed unheard like a -mysterious strain of music the assertion, the power, the tyranny of -sheer beauty. So apparently the woman was beautiful. She detached all -these talking people from their life interests, and even from their -vanities. She was a secret delight and a secret trouble. All the men -when they looked at her fell to brooding as if struck by the thought -that their lives had been wasted. She was the very joy and shudder of -felicity and she brought only sadness and torment to the hearts of men. - -“In short, she must have been an extraordinary woman, or else Tomassov -was an extraordinary young fellow to feel in that way and to talk like -this about her. I told you the fellow had a lot of poetry in him and -observed that all this sounded true enough. It would be just about the -sorcery a woman very much out of the common would exercise, you know. -Poets do get close to truth somehow--there is no denying that. - -“There is no poetry in my composition, I know, but I have my share of -common shrewdness, and I have no doubt that the lady was kind to the -youngster, once he did find his way inside her salon. His getting in -is the real marvel. However, he did get in, the innocent, and he found -himself in distinguished company there, amongst men of considerable -position. And you know, what that means: thick waists, bald heads, teeth -that are not--as some satirist puts it. Imagine amongst them a nice -boy, fresh and simple, like an apple just off the tree; a modest, -good-looking, impressionable, adoring young barbarian. My word! What a -change! What a relief for jaded feelings! And with that, having, in his -nature that, dose; of poetry which saves even a simpleton from being a -fool. - -“He became an artlessly, unconditionally devoted slave. He was rewarded -by being smiled on and in time admitted to the intimacy of the house. -It may be that the unsophisticated young barbarian amused the exquisite -lady. Perhaps--since he didn't feed on tallow candles--he satisfied -some need of tenderness in the woman. You know, there are many kinds of -tenderness highly civilized women are capable of. Women with heads and -imagination, I mean, and no temperament to speak of, you understand. But -who is going to fathom their needs or their fancies? Most of the time -they themselves don't know much about their innermost moods, and blunder -out of one into another, sometimes with catastrophic results. And then -who is more surprised than they? However, Tomassov's case was in its -nature quite idyllic. The fashionable world was amused. His devotion -made for him a kind of social success. But he didn't care. There was his -one divinity, and there was the shrine where he was permitted to go in -and out without regard for official reception hours. - -“He took advantage of that privilege freely. Well, he had no official -duties, you know. The Military Mission was supposed to be more -complimentary than anything else, the head of it being a personal -friend of our Emperor Alexander; and he, too, was laying himself out for -successes in fashionable life exclusively--as it seemed. As it seemed. - -“One afternoon Tomassov called on the mistress of his thoughts earlier -than usual. She was not alone. There was a man with her, not one of the -thick-waisted, bald-headed personages, but a somebody all the same, -a man over thirty, a French officer who to some extent was also a -privileged intimate. Tomassov was not jealous of him. Such a sentiment -would have appeared presumptuous to the simple fellow. - -“On the contrary he admired that officer. You have no idea of the French -military men's prestige in those days, even with us Russian soldiers -who had managed to face them perhaps better than the rest. Victory had -marked them on the forehead--it seemed for ever. They would have been -more than human if they had not been conscious of it; but they were good -comrades and had a sort of brotherly feeling for all who bore arms, even -if it was against them. - -“And this was quite a superior example, an officer of the -major-general's staff, and a man of the best society besides. He was -powerfully built, and thoroughly masculine, though he was as carefully -groomed as a woman. He had the courteous self-possession of a man of the -world. His forehead, white as alabaster, contrasted impressively with -the healthy colour of his face. - -“I don't know whether he was jealous of Tomassov, but I suspect that -he might have been a little annoyed at him as at a sort of walking -absurdity of the sentimental order. But these men of the world are -impenetrable, and outwardly he condescended to recognize Tomassov's -existence even more distinctly than was strictly necessary. Once or -twice he had offered him some useful worldly advice with perfect tact -and delicacy. Tomassov was completely conquered by that evidence of -kindness under the cold polish of the best society. - -“Tomassov, introduced into the _petit salon_, found these two exquisite -people sitting on a sofa together and had the feeling of having -interrupted some special conversation. They looked at him strangely, he -thought; but he was not given to understand that he had intruded. After -a time the lady said to the officer--his name was De Castel--'I wish you -would take the trouble to ascertain the exact truth as to that rumour.' - -“'It's much more than a mere rumour,' remarked the officer. But he got -up submissively and went out. The lady turned to Tomassov and said: 'You -may stay with me.' - -“This express command made him supremely happy, though as a matter of -fact he had had no idea of going. - -“She regarded him with her kindly glances, which made something glow and -expand within his chest. It was a delicious feeling, even though it did -cut one's breath short now and then. Ecstatically he drank in the sound -of her tranquil, seductive talk full of innocent gaiety and of spiritual -quietude. His passion appeared to him to flame up and envelop her in -blue fiery tongues from head to foot and over her head, while her soul -reposed in the centre like a big white rose.... - -“H'm, good this. He told me many other things like that. But this is the -one I remember. He himself remembered everything because these were the -last memories of that woman. He was seeing her for the last time though -he did not know it then. - -“M. De Castel returned, breaking into that atmosphere of enchantment -Tomassov had been drinking in even to complete unconsciousness of the -external world. Tomassov could not help being struck by the distinction -of his movements, the ease of his manner, his superiority to all the -other men he knew, and he suffered from it. It occurred to him that -these two brilliant beings on the sofa were made for each other. - -“De Castel sitting down by the side of the lady murmured to her -discreetly, 'There is not the slightest doubt that it's true,' and -they both turned their eyes to Tomassov. Roused thoroughly from his -enchantment he became self-conscious; a feeling of shyness came over -him. He sat smiling faintly at them. - -“The lady without taking her eyes off the blushing Tomassov said with a -dreamy gravity quite unusual to her: - -“'I should like to know that your generosity can be supreme--without a -flaw. Love at its highest should be the origin of every perfection.' - -“Tomassov opened his eyes wide with admiration at this, as though her -lips had been dropping real pearls. The sentiment, however, was -not uttered for the primitive Russian youth but for the exquisitely -accomplished man of the world, De Castel. - -“Tomassov could not see the effect it produced because the French -officer lowered his head and sat there contemplating his admirably -polished boots. The lady whispered in a sympathetic tone: - -“'You have scruples?' - -“De Castel, without looking up, murmured: 'It could be turned into a -nice point of honour.' - -“She said vivaciously: 'That surely is artificial. I am all for natural -feelings. I believe in nothing else. But perhaps your conscience...' - -“He interrupted her: 'Not at all. My conscience is not childish. The -fate of those people is of no military importance to us. What can it -matter? The fortune of France is invincible.' - -“'Well then...' she uttered, meaningly, and rose from the couch. The -French officer stood up, too. Tomassov hastened to follow their example. -He was pained by his state of utter mental darkness. While he was -raising the lady's white hand to his lips he heard the French officer -say with marked emphasis: - -“'If he has the soul of a warrior (at that time, you know, people really -talked in that way), if he has the soul of a warrior he ought to fall at -your feet in gratitude.' - -“Tomassov felt himself plunged into even denser darkness than before. He -followed the French officer out of the room and out of the house; for he -had a notion that this was expected of him. - -“It was getting dusk, the weather was very bad, and the street was quite -deserted. The Frenchman lingered in it strangely. And Tomassov lingered, -too, without impatience. He was never in a hurry to get away from the -house in which she lived. And besides, something wonderful had happened -to him. The hand he had reverently raised by the tips of its fingers had -been pressed against his lips. He had received a secret favour! He was -almost frightened. The world had reeled--and it had hardly steadied -itself yet. De Castel stopped short at the corner of the quiet street. - -“'I don't care to be seen too much with you in the lighted -thoroughfares, M. Tomassov,' he said in a strangely grim tone. - -“'Why?' asked the young man, too startled to be offended. - -“'From prudence,' answered the other curtly. 'So we will have to part -here; but before we part I'll disclose to you something of which you -will see at once the importance.' - -“This, please note, was an evening in late March of the year 1812. For -a long time already there had been talk of a growing coolness between -Russia and France. The word war was being whispered in drawing rooms -louder and louder, and at last was heard in official circles. Thereupon -the Parisian police discovered that our military envoy had corrupted -some clerks at the Ministry of War and had obtained from them some very -important confidential documents. The wretched men (there were two -of them) had confessed their crime and were to be shot that night. -To-morrow all the town would be talking of the affair. But the worst was -that the Emperor Napoleon was furiously angry at the discovery, and had -made up his mind to have the Russian envoy arrested. - -“Such was De Castel's disclosure; and though he had spoken in low tones -Tomassov was stunned as by a great crash. - -“'Arrested,' he murmured, desolately. - -“'Yes, and kept as a state prisoner--with everybody belonging to -him....' - -“The French officer seized Tomassov's arm above the elbow and pressed it -hard. - -“'And kept in France,' he repeated into Tomassov's very ear, and then -letting him go stepped back a space and remained silent. - -“'And it's you, you, who are telling me this!' cried Tomassov in an -extremity of gratitude that was hardly greater than his admiration for -the generosity of his future foe. Could a brother have done for him -more! He sought to seize the hand of the French officer, but the latter -remained wrapped up closely in his cloak. Possibly in the dark he had -not noticed the attempt. He moved back a bit and in his self-possessed -voice of a man of the world, as though he were speaking across a card -table or something of the sort, he called Tomassov's attention to -the fact that if he meant to make use of the warning the moments were -precious. - -“'Indeed they are,' agreed the awed Tomassov. 'Good-bye then. I have -no word of thanks to equal your generosity; but if ever I have an -opportunity, I swear it, you may command my life....' - -“But the Frenchman retreated, had already vanished in the dark lonely -street. Tomassov was alone, and then he did not waste any of the -precious minutes of that night. - -“See how people's mere gossip and idle talk pass into history. In all -the memoirs of the time if you read them you will find it stated that -our envoy had a warning from some highly placed woman who was in love -with him. Of course it's known that he had successes with women, and in -the highest spheres, too, but the truth is that the person who warned -him was no other than our simple Tomassov--an altogether different sort -of lover from himself. - -“This then is the secret of our Emperor's representative's escape -from arrest. He and all his official household got out of France all -right--as history records. - -“And amongst that household there was our Tomassov of course. He had, -in the words of the French officer, the soul of a warrior. And what more -desolate prospect for a man with such a soul than to be imprisoned -on the eve of war; to be cut off from his country in danger, from his -military family, from his duty, from honour, and--well--from glory, too. - -“Tomassov used to shudder at the mere thought of the moral torture he -had escaped; and he nursed in his heart a boundless gratitude to the two -people who had saved him from that cruel ordeal. They were wonderful! -For him love and friendship were but two aspects of exalted perfection. -He had found these fine examples of it and he vowed them indeed a sort -of cult. It affected his attitude towards Frenchmen in general, great -patriot as he was. He was naturally indignant at the invasion of his -country, but this indignation had no personal animosity in it. His was -fundamentally a fine nature. He grieved at the appalling amount of human -suffering he saw around him. Yes, he was full of compassion for all -forms of mankind's misery in a manly way. - -“Less fine natures than his own did not understand this very well. In -the regiment they had nicknamed him the Humane Tomassov. - -“He didn't take offence at it. There is nothing incompatible between -humanity and a warrior's soul. People without compassion are the -civilians, government officials, merchants and such like. As to the -ferocious talk one hears from a lot of decent people in war time--well, -the tongue is an unruly member at best and when there is some excitement -going on there is no curbing its furious activity. - -“So I had not been very surprised to see our Tomassov sheathe -deliberately his sword right in the middle of that charge, you may say. -As we rode away after it he was very silent. He was not a chatterer as -a rule, but it was evident that this close view of the Grand Army had -affected him deeply, like some sight not of this earth. I had always -been a pretty tough individual myself--well, even I... and there was -that fellow with a lot of poetry in his nature! You may imagine what he -made of it to himself. We rode side by side without opening our lips. It -was simply beyond words. - -“We established our bivouac along the edge of the forest so as to get -some shelter for our horses. However, the boisterous north wind had -dropped as quickly as it had sprung up, and the great winter stillness -lay on the land from the Baltic to the Black Sea. One could almost feel -its cold, lifeless immensity reaching up to the stars. - -“Our men had lighted several fires for their officers and had cleared -the snow around them. We had big logs of wood for seats; it was a -very tolerable bivouac upon the whole, even without the exultation of -victory. We were to feel that later, but at present we were oppressed by -our stern and arduous task. - -“There were three of us round my fire. The third one was that adjutant. -He was perhaps a well-meaning chap but not so nice as he might have been -had he been less rough in manner and less crude in his perceptions. He -would reason about people's conduct as though a man were as simple a -figure as, say, two sticks laid across each other; whereas a man is much -more like the sea whose movements are too complicated to explain, and -whose depths may bring up God only knows what at any moment. - -“We talked a little about that charge. Not much. That sort of thing does -not lend itself to conversation. Tomassov muttered a few words about a -mere butchery. I had nothing to say. As I told you I had very soon let -my sword hang idle at my wrist. That starving mob had not even _tried_ -to defend itself. Just a few shots. We had two men wounded. Two!... and -we had charged the main column of Napoleon's Grand Army. - -“Tomassov muttered wearily: 'What was the good of it?' I did not wish -to argue, so I only just mumbled: 'Ah, well!' But the adjutant struck in -unpleasantly: - -“'Why, it warmed the men a bit. It has made me warm. That's a good -enough reason. But our Tomassov is so humane! And besides he has been in -love with a French woman, and thick as thieves with a lot of Frenchmen, -so he is sorry for them. Never mind, my boy, we are on the Paris road -now and you shall soon see her!' This was one of his usual, as we -believed them, foolish speeches. None of us but believed that the -getting to Paris would be a matter of years--of years. And lo! less than -eighteen months afterwards I was rooked of a lot of money in a gambling -hell in the Palais Royal. - -“Truth, being often the most senseless thing in the world, is sometimes -revealed to fools. I don't think that adjutant of ours believed in his -own words. He just wanted to tease Tomassov from habit. Purely from -habit. We of course said nothing, and so he took his head in his hands -and fell into a doze as he sat on a log in front of the fire. - -“Our cavalry was on the extreme right wing of the army, and I must -confess that we guarded it very badly. We had lost all sense of -insecurity by this time; but still we did keep up a pretence of doing -it in a way. Presently a trooper rode up leading a horse and Tomassov -mounted stiffly and went off on a round of the outposts. Of the -perfectly useless outposts. - -“The night was still, except for the crackling of the fires. The raging -wind had lifted far above the earth and not the faintest breath of it -could be heard. Only the full moon swam out with a rush into the sky and -suddenly hung high and motionless overhead. I remember raising my hairy -face to it for a moment. Then, I verily believe, I dozed off, too, bent -double on my log with my head towards the fierce blaze. - -“You know what an impermanent thing such slumber is. One moment you -drop into an abyss and the next you are back in the world that you would -think too deep for any noise but the trumpet of the Last Judgment. -And then off you go again. Your very soul seems to slip down into a -bottomless black pit. Then up once more into a startled consciousness. A -mere plaything of cruel sleep one is, then. Tormented both ways. - -“However, when my orderly appeared before me, repeating: 'Won't your -Honour be pleased to eat?... Won't your Honour be pleased to eat?...' I -managed to keep my hold of it--I mean that gaping consciousness. He was -offering me a sooty pot containing some grain boiled in water with a -pinch of salt. A wooden spoon was stuck in it. - -“At that time these were the only rations we were getting regularly. -Mere chicken food, confound it! But the Russian soldier is wonderful. -Well, my fellow waited till I had feasted and then went away carrying -off the empty pot. - -“I was no longer sleepy. Indeed, I had become awake with an exaggerated -mental consciousness of existence extending beyond my immediate -surroundings. Those are but exceptional moments with mankind, I am glad -to say. I had the intimate sensation of the earth in all its enormous -expanse wrapped in snow, with nothing showing on it but trees with their -straight stalk-like trunks and their funeral verdure; and in this aspect -of general mourning I seemed to hear the sighs of mankind falling to die -in the midst of a nature without life. They were Frenchmen. We didn't -hate them; they did not hate us; we had existed far apart--and suddenly -they had come rolling in with arms in their hands, without fear of God, -carrying with them other nations, and all to perish together in a long, -long trail of frozen corpses. I had an actual vision of that trail: -a pathetic multitude of small dark mounds stretching away under the -moonlight in a clear, still, and pitiless atmosphere--a sort of horrible -peace. - -“But what other peace could there be for them? What else did they -deserve? I don't know by what connection of emotions there came into my -head the thought that the earth was a pagan planet and not a fit abode -for Christian virtues. - -“You may be surprised that I should remember all this so well. What is -a passing emotion or half-formed thought to last in so many years of a -man's changing, inconsequential life? But what has fixed the emotion -of that evening in my recollection so that the slightest shadows remain -indelible was an event of strange finality, an event not likely to be -forgotten in a life-time--as you shall see. - -“I don't suppose I had been entertaining those thoughts more than five -minutes when something induced me to look over my shoulder. I can't -think it was a noise; the snow deadened all the sounds. Something it -must have been, some sort of signal reaching my consciousness. Anyway, I -turned my head, and there was the event approaching me, not that I knew -it or had the slightest premonition. All I saw in the distance were two -figures approaching in the moonlight. One of them was our Tomassov. The -dark mass behind him which moved across my sight were the horses which -his orderly was leading away. Tomassov was a very familiar appearance, -in long boots, a tall figure ending in a pointed hood. But by his side -advanced another figure. I mistrusted my eyes at first. It was amazing! -It had a shining crested helmet on its head and was muffled up in a -white cloak. The cloak was not as white as snow. Nothing in the world -is. It was white more like mist, with an aspect that was ghostly and -martial to an extraordinary degree. It was as if Tomassov had got hold -of the God of War himself. I could see at once that he was leading this -resplendent vision by the arm. Then I saw that he was holding it -up. While I stared and stared, they crept on--for indeed they were -creeping--and at last they crept into the light of our bivouac fire and -passed beyond the log I was sitting on. The blaze played on the helmet. -It was extremely battered and the frost-bitten face, full of sores, -under it was framed in bits of mangy fur. No God of War this, but a -French officer. The great white cuirassier's cloak was torn, burnt full -of holes. His feet were wrapped up in old sheepskins over remnants -of boots. They looked monstrous and he tottered on them, sustained by -Tomassov who lowered him most carefully on to the log on which I sat. - -“My amazement knew no bounds. - -“'You have brought in a prisoner,' I said to Tomassov, as if I could not -believe my eyes. - -“You must understand that unless they surrendered in large bodies we -made no prisoners. What would have been the good? Our Cossacks either -killed the stragglers or else let them alone, just as it happened. It -came really to the same thing in the end. - -“Tomassov turned to me with a very troubled look. - -“'He sprang up from the ground somewhere as I was leaving the outpost,' -he said. 'I believe he was making for it, for he walked blindly into my -horse. He got hold of my leg and of course none of our chaps dared touch -him then.' - -“'He had a narrow escape,' I said. - -“'He didn't appreciate it,' said Tomassov, looking even more troubled -than before. 'He came along holding to my stirrup leather. That's what -made me so late. He told me he was a staff officer; and then talking in -a voice such, I suppose, as the damned alone use, a croaking of rage -and pain, he said he had a favour to beg of me. A supreme favour. Did I -understand him, he asked in a sort of fiendish whisper. - -“'Of course I told him that I did. I said: _oui, je vous comprends_.' - -“'Then,' said he, 'do it. Now! At once--in the pity of your heart.' - -“Tomassov ceased and stared queerly at me above the head of the -prisoner. - -“I said, 'What did he mean?' - -“'That's what I asked him,' answered Tomassov in a dazed tone, 'and he -said that he wanted me to do him the favour to blow his brains out. As a -fellow soldier he said. 'As a man of feeling--as--as a humane man.' - -“The prisoner sat between us like an awful gashed mummy as to the face, -a martial scarecrow, a grotesque horror of rags and dirt, with awful -living eyes, full of vitality, full of unquenchable fire, in a body -of horrible affliction, a skeleton at the feast of glory. And suddenly -those shining unextinguishable eyes of his became fixed upon Tomassov. -He, poor fellow, fascinated, returned the ghastly stare of a suffering -soul in that mere husk of a man. The prisoner croaked at him in French. - -“'I recognize, you know. You are her Russian youngster. You were -very grateful. I call on you to pay the debt. Pay it, I say, with one -liberating shot. You are a man of honour. I have not even a broken -sabre. All my being recoils from my own degradation. You know me.' - -“Tomassov said nothing. - -“'Haven't you got the soul of a warrior?' the Frenchman asked in an -angry whisper, but with something of a mocking intention in it. - -“'I don't know,' said poor Tomassov. - -“What a look of contempt that scarecrow gave him out of his unquenchable -eyes. He seemed to live only by the force of infuriated and impotent -despair. Suddenly he gave a gasp and fell forward writhing in the -agony of cramp in all his limbs; a not unusual effect of the heat of a -camp-fire. It resembled the application of some horrible torture. But -he tried to fight against the pain at first. He only moaned low while we -bent over him so as to prevent him rolling into the fire, and muttered -feverishly at intervals: '_Tuez moi, tuez moi_...' till, vanquished by -the pain, he screamed in agony, time after time, each cry bursting out -through his compressed lips. - -“The adjutant woke up on the other side of the fire and started swearing -awfully at the beastly row that Frenchman was making. - -“'What's this? More of your infernal humanity, Tomassov,' he yelled -at us. 'Why don't you have him thrown out of this to the devil on the -snow?' - -“As we paid no attention to his shouts, he got up, cursing shockingly, -and went away to another fire. Presently the French officer became -easier. We propped him up against the log and sat silent on each side -of him till the bugles started their call at the first break of day. The -big flame, kept up all through the night, paled on the livid sheet -of snow, while the frozen air all round rang with the brazen notes of -cavalry trumpets. The Frenchman's eyes, fixed in a glassy stare, which -for a moment made us hope that he had died quietly sitting there between -us two, stirred slowly to right and left, looking at each of our faces -in turn. Tomassov and I exchanged glances of dismay. Then De Castel's -voice, unexpected in its renewed strength and ghastly self-possession, -made us shudder inwardly. - -“'_Bonjour, Messieurs_.' - -“His chin dropped on his breast. Tomassov addressed me in Russian. - -“'It is he, the man himself...' I nodded and Tomassov went on in a tone -of anguish: 'Yes, he! Brilliant, accomplished, envied by men, loved by -that woman--this horror--this miserable thing that cannot die. Look at -his eyes. It's terrible.' - -“I did not look, but I understood what Tomassov meant. We could do -nothing for him. This avenging winter of fate held both the fugitives -and the pursuers in its iron grip. Compassion was but a vain word before -that unrelenting destiny. I tried to say something about a convoy being -no doubt collected in the village--but I faltered at the mute glance -Tomassov gave me. We knew what those convoys were like: appalling mobs -of hopeless wretches driven on by the butts of Cossacks' lances, back to -the frozen inferno, with their faces set away from their homes. - -“Our two squadrons had been formed along the edge of the forest. The -minutes of anguish were passing. The Frenchman suddenly struggled to his -feet. We helped him almost without knowing what we were doing. - -“'Come,' he said, in measured tones. 'This is the moment.' He paused -for a long time, then with the same distinctness went on: 'On my word of -honour, all faith is dead in me.' - -“His voice lost suddenly its self-possession. After waiting a little -while he added in a murmur: 'And even my courage.... Upon my honour.' - -“Another long pause ensued before, with a great effort, he whispered -hoarsely: 'Isn't this enough to move a heart of stone? Am I to go on my -knees to you?' - -“Again a deep silence fell upon the three of us. Then the French officer -flung his last word of anger at Tomassov. - -“'Milksop!' - -“Not a feature of the poor fellow moved. I made up my mind to go and -fetch a couple of our troopers to lead that miserable prisoner away to -the village. There was nothing else for it. I had not moved six paces -towards the group of horses and orderlies in front of our squadron -when... but you have guessed it. Of course. And I, too, I guessed it, -for I give you my word that the report of Tomassov's pistol was the most -insignificant thing imaginable. The snow certainly does absorb sound. It -was a mere feeble pop. Of the orderlies holding our horses I don't think -one turned his head round. - -“Yes. Tomassov had done it. Destiny had led that De Castel to the man -who could understand him perfectly. But it was poor Tomassov's lot to be -the predestined victim. You know what the world's justice and mankind's -judgment are like. They fell heavily on him with a sort of inverted -hypocrisy. Why! That brute of an adjutant, himself, was the first to set -going horrified allusions to the shooting of a prisoner in cold blood! -Tomassov was not dismissed from the service of course. But after the -siege of Dantzig he asked for permission to resign from the army, and -went away to bury himself in the depths of his province, where a vague -story of some dark deed clung to him for years. - -“Yes. He had done it. And what was it? One warrior's soul paying its -debt a hundredfold to another warrior's soul by releasing it from a fate -worse than death--the loss of all faith and courage. You may look on -it in that way. I don't know. And perhaps poor Tomassov did not know -himself. But I was the first to approach that appalling dark group on -the snow: the Frenchman extended rigidly on his back, Tomassov kneeling -on one knee rather nearer to the feet than to the Frenchman's head. He -had taken his cap off and his hair shone like gold in the light drift -of flakes that had begun to fall. He was stooping over the dead in a -tenderly contemplative attitude. And his young, ingenuous face, with -lowered eyelids, expressed no grief, no sternness, no horror--but was -set in the repose of a profound, as if endless and endlessly silent, -meditation.” - - - - - -PRINCE ROMAN (1911) - - -“Events which happened seventy years ago are perhaps rather too far off -to be dragged aptly into a mere conversation. Of course the year 1831 is -for us an historical date, one of these fatal years when in the presence -of the world's passive indignation and eloquent sympathies we had once -more to murmur '_Vo Victis_' and count the cost in sorrow. Not that -we were ever very good at calculating, either, in prosperity or -in adversity. That's a lesson we could never learn, to the great -exasperation of our enemies who have bestowed upon us the epithet of -Incorrigible....” - -The speaker was of Polish nationality, that nationality not so much -alive as surviving, which persists in thinking, breathing, speaking, -hoping, and suffering in its grave, railed in by a million of bayonets -and triple-sealed with the seals of three great empires. - -The conversation was about aristocracy. How did this, nowadays -discredited, subject come up? It is some years ago now and the precise -recollection has faded. But I remember that it was not considered -practically as an ingredient in the social mixture; and I verily -believed that we arrived at that subject through some exchange of ideas -about patriotism--a somewhat discredited sentiment, because the delicacy -of our humanitarians regards it as a relic of barbarism. Yet neither the -great Florentine painter who closed his eyes in death thinking of his -city, nor St. Francis blessing with his last breath the town of Assisi, -were barbarians. It requires a certain greatness of soul to interpret -patriotism worthily--or else a sincerity of feeling denied to the -vulgar refinement of modern thought which cannot understand the august -simplicity of a sentiment proceeding from the very nature of things and -men. - -The aristocracy we were talking about was the very highest, the great -families of Europe, not impoverished, not converted, not liberalized, -the most distinctive and specialized class of all classes, for which -even ambition itself does not exist among the usual incentives to -activity and regulators of conduct. - -The undisputed right of leadership having passed away from them, we -judged that their great fortunes, their cosmopolitanism brought about by -wide alliances, their elevated station, in which there is so little to -gain and so much to lose, must make their position difficult in times -of political commotion or national upheaval. No longer born to -command--which is the very essence of aristocracy--it becomes difficult -for them to do aught else but hold aloof from the great movements of -popular passion. - -We had reached that conclusion when the remark about far-off events was -made and the date of 1831 mentioned. And the speaker continued: - -“I don't mean to say that I knew Prince Roman at that remote time. I -begin to feel pretty ancient, but I am not so ancient as that. In fact -Prince Roman was married the very year my father was born. It was in -1828; the 19th Century was young yet and the Prince was even younger -than the century, but I don't know exactly by how much. In any case -his was an early marriage. It was an ideal alliance from every point -of view. The girl was young and beautiful, an orphan heiress of a great -name and of a great fortune. The Prince, then an officer in the -Guards and distinguished amongst his fellows by something reserved -and reflective in his character, had fallen headlong in love with her -beauty, her charm, and the serious qualities of her mind and heart. He -was a rather silent young man; but his glances, his bearing, his whole -person expressed his absolute devotion to the woman of his choice, a -devotion which she returned in her own frank and fascinating manner. - -“The flame of this pure young passion promised to burn for ever; and for -a season it lit up the dry, cynical atmosphere of the great world of St. -Petersburg. The Emperor Nicholas himself, the grandfather of the present -man, the one who died from the Crimean War, the last perhaps of the -Autocrats with a mystical belief in the Divine character of his mission, -showed some interest in this pair of married lovers. It is true that -Nicholas kept a watchful eye on all the doings of the great Polish -nobles. The young people leading a life appropriate to their station -were obviously wrapped up in each other; and society, fascinated by the -sincerity of a feeling moving serenely among the artificialities of -its anxious and fastidious agitation, watched them with benevolent -indulgence and an amused tenderness. - -“The marriage was the social event of 1828, in the capital. Just forty -years afterwards I was staying in the country house of my mother's -brother in our southern provinces. - -“It was the dead of winter. The great lawn in front was as pure and -smooth as an alpine snowfield, a white and feathery level sparkling -under the sun as if sprinkled with diamond-dust, declining gently to -the lake--a long, sinuous piece of frozen water looking bluish and -more solid than the earth. A cold brilliant sun glided low above an -undulating horizon of great folds of snow in which the villages of -Ukrainian peasants remained out of sight, like clusters of boats hidden -in the hollows of a running sea. And everything was very still. - -“I don't know now how I had managed to escape at eleven o'clock in the -morning from the schoolroom. I was a boy of eight, the little girl, -my cousin, a few months younger than myself, though hereditarily more -quick-tempered, was less adventurous. So I had escaped alone; and -presently I found myself in the great stone-paved hall, warmed by a -monumental stove of white tiles, a much more pleasant locality than the -schoolroom, which for some reason or other, perhaps hygienic, was always -kept at a low temperature. - -“We children were aware that there was a guest staying in the house. He -had arrived the night before just as we were being driven off to bed. -We broke back through the line of beaters to rush and flatten our noses -against the dark window panes; but we were too late to see him alight. -We had only watched in a ruddy glare the big travelling carriage on -sleigh-runners harnessed with six horses, a black mass against the snow, -going off to the stables, preceded by a horseman carrying a blazing ball -of tow and resin in an iron basket at the end of a long stick swung from -his saddle bow. Two stable boys had been sent out early in the afternoon -along the snow-tracks to meet the expected guest at dusk and light his -way with these road torches. At that time, you must remember, there -was not a single mile of railways in our southern provinces. My little -cousin and I had no knowledge of trains and engines, except from -picture-books, as of things rather vague, extremely remote, and not -particularly interesting unless to grownups who travelled abroad. - -“Our notion of princes, perhaps a little more precise, was mainly -literary and had a glamour reflected from the light of fairy tales, in -which princes always appear young, charming, heroic, and fortunate. Yet, -as well as any other children, we could draw a firm line between the -real and the ideal. We knew that princes were historical personages. And -there was some glamour in that fact, too. But what had driven me to -roam cautiously over the house like an escaped prisoner was the hope of -snatching an interview with a special friend of mine, the head forester, -who generally came to make his report at that time of the day, I yearned -for news of a certain wolf. You know, in a country where wolves are to -be found, every winter almost brings forward an individual eminent by -the audacity of his misdeeds, by his more perfect wolfishness--so to -speak. I wanted to hear some new thrilling tale of that wolf--perhaps -the dramatic story of his death.... - -“But there was no one in the hall. - -“Deceived in my hopes, I became suddenly very much depressed. Unable to -slip back in triumph to my studies I elected to stroll spiritlessly into -the billiard room where certainly I had no business. There was no one -there either, and I felt very lost and desolate under its high ceiling, -all alone with the massive English billiard table which seemed, in -heavy, rectilinear silence, to disapprove of that small boy's intrusion. - -“As I began to think of retreat I heard footsteps in the adjoining -drawing room; and, before I could turn tail and flee, my uncle and his -guest appeared in the doorway. To run away after having been seen -would have been highly improper, so I stood my ground. My uncle looked -surprised to see me; the guest by his side was a spare man, of average -stature, buttoned up in a black frock coat and holding himself very -erect with a stiffly soldier-like carriage. From the folds of a soft -white cambric neck-cloth peeped the points of a collar close against -each shaven cheek. A few wisps of thin gray hair were brushed smoothly -across the top of his bald head. His face, which must have been -beautiful in its day, had preserved in age the harmonious simplicity -of its lines. What amazed me was its even, almost deathlike pallor. He -seemed to me to be prodigiously old. A faint smile, a mere momentary -alteration in the set of his thin lips acknowledged my blushing -confusion; and I became greatly interested to see him reach into the -inside breastpocket of his coat. He extracted therefrom a lead pencil -and a block of detachable pages, which he handed to my uncle with an -almost imperceptible bow. - -“I was very much astonished, but my uncle received it as a matter -of course. He wrote something at which the other glanced and nodded -slightly. A thin wrinkled hand--the hand was older than the face--patted -my cheek and then rested on my head lightly. An un-ringing voice, a -voice as colourless as the face itself, issued from his sunken lips, -while the eyes, dark and still, looked down at me kindly. - -“'And how old is this shy little boy?'” - -“Before I could answer my uncle wrote down my age on the pad. I was -deeply impressed. What was this ceremony? Was this personage too great -to be spoken to? Again he glanced at the pad, and again gave a nod, and -again that impersonal, mechanical voice was heard: 'He resembles his -grandfather.' - -“I remembered my paternal grandfather. He had died not long before. He, -too, was prodigiously old. And to me it seemed perfectly natural that -two such ancient and venerable persons should have known each other in -the dim ages of creation before my birth. But my uncle obviously had -not been aware of the fact. So obviously that the mechanical voice -explained: 'Yes, yes. Comrades in '31. He was one of those who knew. -Old times, my dear sir, old times....' - -“He made a gesture as if to put aside an importunate ghost. And now they -were both looking down at me. I wondered whether anything was expected -from me. To my round, questioning eyes my uncle remarked: 'He's -completely deaf.' And the unrelated, inexpressive voice said: 'Give me -your hand.' - -“Acutely conscious of inky fingers I put it out timidly. I had never -seen a deaf person before and was rather startled. He pressed it firmly -and then gave me a final pat on the head. - -“My uncle addressed me weightily: 'You have shaken hands with Prince -Roman S---------. It's something for you to remember when you grow up.' - -“I was impressed by his tone. I had enough historical information to -know vaguely that the Princes S--------- counted amongst the sovereign -Princes of Ruthenia till the union of all Ruthenian lands to the kingdom -of Poland, when they became great Polish magnates, sometime at the -beginning of the 15th Century. But what concerned me most was the -failure of the fairy-tale glamour. It was shocking to discover a prince -who was deaf, bald, meagre, and so prodigiously old. It never occurred -to me that this imposing and disappointing man had been young, rich, -beautiful; I could not know that he had been happy in the felicity of an -ideal marriage uniting two young hearts, two great names and two great -fortunes; happy with a happiness which, as in fairy tales, seemed -destined to last for ever.... - -“But it did not last for ever. It was fated not to last very long even -by the measure of the days allotted to men's passage on this earth where -enduring happiness is only found in the conclusion of fairy tales. A -daughter was born to them and shortly afterwards, the health of the -young princess began to fail. For a time she bore up with smiling -intrepidity, sustained by the feeling that now her existence was -necessary for the happiness of two lives. But at last the husband, -thoroughly alarmed by the rapid changes in her appearance, obtained an -unlimited leave and took her away from the capital to his parents in the -country. - -“The old prince and princess were extremely frightened at the state -of their beloved daughter-in-law. Preparations were at once made for a -journey abroad. But it seemed as if it were already too late; and the -invalid herself opposed the project with gentle obstinacy. Thin and pale -in the great armchair, where the insidious and obscure nervous malady -made her appear smaller and more frail every day without effacing the -smile of her eyes or the charming grace of her wasted face, she clung to -her native land and wished to breathe her native air. Nowhere else could -she expect to get well so quickly, nowhere else would it be so easy for -her to die. - -“She died before her little girl was two years old. The grief of -the husband was terrible and the more alarming to his parents because -perfectly silent and dry-eyed. After the funeral, while the immense -bareheaded crowd of peasants surrounding the private chapel on the -grounds was dispersing, the Prince, waving away his friends and -relations, remained alone to watch the masons of the estate closing the -family vault. When the last stone was in position he uttered a groan, -the first sound of pain which had escaped from him for days, and walking -away with lowered head shut himself up again in his apartments. - -“His father and mother feared for his reason. His outward tranquillity -was appalling to them. They had nothing to trust to but that very youth -which made his despair so self-absorbed and so intense. Old Prince John, -fretful and anxious, repeated: 'Poor Roman should be roused somehow. -He's so young.' But they could find nothing to rouse him with. And the -old princess, wiping her eyes, wished in her heart he were young enough -to come and cry at her knee. - -“In time Prince Roman, making an effort, would join now and again the -family circle. But it was as if his heart and his mind had been buried -in the family vault with the wife he had lost. He took to wandering in -the woods with a gun, watched over secretly by one of the keepers, who -would report in the evening that 'His Serenity has never fired a shot -all day.' Sometimes walking to the stables in the morning he would order -in subdued tones a horse to be saddled, wait switching his boot till it -was led up to him, then mount without a word and ride out of the gates -at a walking pace. He would be gone all day. People saw him on the -roads looking neither to the right nor to the left, white-faced, sitting -rigidly in the saddle like a horseman of stone on a living mount. - -“The peasants working in the fields, the great unhedged fields, looked -after him from the distance; and sometimes some sympathetic old woman on -the threshold of a low, thatched hut was moved to make the sign of the -cross in the air behind his back; as though he were one of themselves, a -simple village soul struck by a sore affliction. - -“He rode looking straight ahead seeing no one as if the earth were empty -and all mankind buried in that grave which had opened so suddenly in -his path to swallow up his happiness. What were men to him with their -sorrows, joys, labours and passions from which she who had been all the -world to him had been cut off so early? - -“They did not exist; and he would have felt as completely lonely and -abandoned as a man in the toils of a cruel nightmare if it had not been -for this countryside where he had been born and had spent his happy -boyish years. He knew it well--every slight rise crowned with trees -amongst the ploughed fields, every dell concealing a village. The dammed -streams made a chain of lakes set in the green meadows. Far away to the -north the great Lithuanian forest faced the sun, no higher than a hedge; -and to the south, the way to the plains, the vast brown spaces of the -earth touched the blue sky. - -“And this familiar landscape associated with the days without thought -and without sorrow, this land the charm of which he felt without even -looking at it soothed his pain, like the presence of an old friend who -sits silent and disregarded by one in some dark hour of life. - -“One afternoon, it happened that the Prince after turning his horse's -head for home remarked a low dense cloud of dark dust cutting off -slantwise a part of the view. He reined in on a knoll and peered. -There were slender gleams of steel here and there in that cloud, and it -contained moving forms which revealed themselves at last as a long line -of peasant carts full of soldiers, moving slowly in double file under -the escort of mounted Cossacks. - -“It was like an immense reptile creeping over the fields; its head -dipped out of sight in a slight hollow and its tail went on writhing and -growing shorter as though the monster were eating its way slowly into -the very heart of the land. - -“The Prince directed his way through a village lying a little off -the track. The roadside inn with its stable, byre, and barn under one -enormous thatched roof resembled a deformed, hunch-backed, ragged giant, -sprawling amongst the small huts of the peasants. The innkeeper, a -portly, dignified Jew, clad in a black satin coat reaching down to his -heels and girt with a red sash, stood at the door stroking his long -silvery beard. - -“He watched the Prince approach and bowed gravely from the waist, not -expecting to be noticed even, since it was well known that their young -lord had no eyes for anything or anybody in his grief. It was quite a -shock for him when the Prince pulled up and asked: - -“'What's all this, Yankel?' - -“'That is, please your Serenity, that is a convoy of footsoldiers they -are hurrying down to the south.' - -“He glanced right and left cautiously, but as there was no one near but -some children playing in the dust of the village street, he came up -close to the stirrup. - -“'Doesn't your Serenity know? It has begun already down there. All the -landowners great and small are out in arms and even the common people -have risen. Only yesterday the saddler from Grodek (it was a tiny -market-town near by) went through here with his two apprentices on his -way to join. He left even his cart with me. I gave him a guide through -our neighbourhood. You know, your Serenity, our people they travel a lot -and they see all that's going on, and they know all the roads.' - -“He tried to keep down his excitement, for the Jew Yankel, innkeeper and -tenant of all the mills on the estate, was a Polish patriot. And in a -still lower voice: - -“'I was already a married man when the French and all the other nations -passed this way with Napoleon. Tse! Tse! That was a great harvest for -death, _nu!_ Perhaps this time God will help.' - -“The Prince nodded. 'Perhaps'--and falling into deep meditation he let -his horse take him home. - -“That night he wrote a letter, and early in the morning sent a mounted -express to the post town. During the day he came out of his taciturnity, -to the great joy of the family circle, and conversed with his father -of recent events--the revolt in Warsaw, the flight of the Grand Duke -Constantine, the first slight successes of the Polish army (at that time -there was a Polish army); the risings in the provinces. Old Prince John, -moved and uneasy, speaking from a purely aristocratic point of view, -mistrusted the popular origins of the movement, regretted its democratic -tendencies, and did not believe in the possibility of success. He was -sad, inwardly agitated. - -“'I am judging all this calmly. There are secular principles of -legitimity and order which have been violated in this reckless -enterprise for the sake of most subversive illusions. Though of course -the patriotic impulses of the heart....' - -“Prince Roman had listened in a thoughtful attitude. He took advantage -of the pause to tell his father quietly that he had sent that morning a -letter to St. Petersburg resigning his commission in the Guards. - -“The old prince remained silent. He thought that he ought to have been -consulted. His son was also ordnance officer to the Emperor and he -knew that the Tsar would never forget this appearance of defection in a -Polish noble. In a discontented tone he pointed out to his son that as -it was he had an unlimited leave. The right thing would have been to -keep quiet. They had too much tact at Court to recall a man of his -name. Or at worst some distant mission might have been asked for--to the -Caucasus for instance--away from this unhappy struggle which was wrong -in principle and therefore destined to fail. - -“'Presently you shall find yourself without any interest in life and -with no occupation. And you shall need something to occupy you, my poor -boy. You have acted rashly, I fear.' - -“Prince Roman murmured. - -“'I thought it better.' - -“His father faltered under his steady gaze. - -“'Well, well--perhaps! But as ordnance officer to the Emperor and in -favour with all the Imperial family....' - -“'Those people had never been heard of when our house was already -illustrious,' the young man let fall disdainfully. - -“This was the sort of remark to which the old prince was sensible. - -“'Well--perhaps it is better,' he conceded at last. - -“The father and son parted affectionately for the night. The next -day Prince Roman seemed to have fallen back into the depths of his -indifference. He rode out as usual. He remembered that the day before -he had seen a reptile-like convoy of soldiery, bristling with bayonets, -crawling over the face of that land which was his. The woman he loved -had been his, too. Death had robbed him of her. Her loss had been to him -a moral shock. It had opened his heart to a greater sorrow, his mind -to a vaster thought, his eyes to all the past and to the existence of -another love fraught with pain but as mysteriously imperative as that -lost one to which he had entrusted his happiness. - -“That evening he retired earlier than usual and rang for his personal -servant. - -“'Go and see if there is light yet in the quarters of the -Master-of-the-Horse. If he is still up ask him to come and speak to me.' - -“While the servant was absent on this errand the Prince tore up hastily -some papers, locked the drawers of his desk, and hung a medallion, -containing the miniature of his wife, round his neck against his breast. - -“The man the Prince was expecting belonged to that past which the death -of his love had called to life. He was of a family of small nobles who -for generations had been adherents, servants, and friends of the Princes -S---------. He remembered the times before the last partition and had -taken part in the struggles of the last hour. He was a typical old Pole -of that class, with a great capacity for emotion, for blind enthusiasm; -with martial instincts and simple beliefs; and even with the old-time -habit of larding his speech with Latin words. And his kindly shrewd -eyes, his ruddy face, his lofty brow and his thick, gray, pendent -moustache were also very typical of his kind. - -“'Listen, Master Francis,' the Prince said familiarly and without -preliminaries. 'Listen, old friend. I am going to vanish from here -quietly. I go where something louder than my grief and yet something -with a voice very like it calls me. I confide in you alone. You will say -what's necessary when the time comes.' - -“The old man understood. His extended hands trembled exceedingly. But -as soon as he found his voice he thanked God aloud for letting him -live long enough to see the descendant of the illustrious family in its -youngest generation give an example _coram Gentibus_ of the love of his -country and of valour in the field. He doubted not of his dear Prince -attaining a place in council and in war worthy of his high birth; he saw -already that _in fulgore_ of family glory _affulget patride serenitas_. -At the end of the speech he burst into tears and fell into the Prince's -arms. - -“The Prince quieted the old man and when he had him seated in an -armchair and comparatively composed he said: - -“'Don't misunderstand me, Master Francis. You know how I loved my wife. -A loss like that opens one's eyes to unsuspected truths. There is no -question here of leadership and glory. I mean to go alone and to fight -obscurely in the ranks. I am going to offer my country what is mine to -offer, that is my life, as simply as the saddler from Grodek who went -through yesterday with his apprentices.' - -“The old man cried out at this. That could never be. He could not allow -it. But he had to give way before the arguments and the express will -of the Prince. “'Ha! If you say that it is a matter of feeling and -conscience--so be it. But you cannot go utterly alone. Alas! that I am -too old to be of any use. _Cripit verba dolor_, my dear Prince, at the -thought that I am over seventy and of no more account in the world than -a cripple in the church porch. It seems that to sit at home and pray to -God for the nation and for you is all I am fit for. But there is my son, -my youngest son, Peter. He will make a worthy companion for you. And -as it happens he's staying with me here. There has not been for ages a -Prince S--------- hazarding his life without a companion of our name to -ride by his side. You must have by you somebody who knows who you are if -only to let your parents and your old servant hear what is happening to -you. And when does your Princely Mightiness mean to start?' - -“'In an hour,' said the Prince; and the old man hurried off to warn his -son. - -“Prince Roman took up a candlestick and walked quietly along a dark -corridor in the silent house. The head-nurse said afterwards that waking -up suddenly she saw the Prince looking at his child, one hand shading -the light from its eyes. He stood and gazed at her for some time, and -then putting the candlestick on the floor bent over the cot and kissed -lightly the little girl who did not wake. He went out noiselessly, -taking the light away with him. She saw his face perfectly well, but she -could read nothing of his purpose in it. It was pale but perfectly calm -and after he turned away from the cot he never looked back at it once. - -“The only other trusted person, besides the old man and his son Peter, -was the Jew Yankel. When he asked the Prince where precisely he wanted -to be guided the Prince answered: 'To the nearest party.' A grandson -of the Jew, a lanky youth, conducted the two young men by little-known -paths across woods and morasses, and led them in sight of the few fires -of a small detachment camped in a hollow. Some invisible horses neighed, -a voice in the dark cried: 'Who goes there?'... and the young Jew -departed hurriedly, explaining that he must make haste home to be in -time for keeping the Sabbath. - -“Thus humbly and in accord with the simplicity of the vision of duty he -saw when death had removed the brilliant bandage of happiness from his -eyes, did Prince Roman bring his offering to his country. His companion -made himself known as the son of the Master of-the-Horse to the Princes -S--------- and declared him to be a relation, a distant cousin from the -same parts as himself and, as people presumed, of the same name. In -truth no one inquired much. Two more young men clearly of the right sort -had joined. Nothing more natural. - -“Prince Roman did not remain long in the south. One day while scouting -with several others, they were ambushed near the entrance of a village -by some Russian infantry. The first discharge laid low a good many and -the rest scattered in all directions. The Russians, too, did not stay, -being afraid of a return in force. After some time, the peasants coming -to view the scene extricated Prince Roman from under his dead horse. He -was unhurt but his faithful companion had been one of the first to fall. -The Prince helped the peasants to bury him and the other dead. - -“Then alone, not certain where to find the body of partizans which was -constantly moving about in all directions, he resolved to try and join -the main Polish army facing the Russians on the borders of Lithuania. -Disguised in peasant clothes, in case of meeting some marauding -Cossacks, he wandered a couple of weeks before he came upon a village -occupied by a regiment of Polish cavalry on outpost duty. - -“On a bench, before a peasant hut of a better sort, sat an elderly -officer whom he took for the colonel. The Prince approached -respectfully, told his story shortly and stated his desire to enlist; -and when asked his name by the officer, who had been looking him over -carefully, he gave on the spur of the moment the name of his dead -companion. - -“The elderly officer thought to himself: Here's the son of some peasant -proprietor of the liberated class. He liked his appearance. - -“'And can you read and write, my good fellow?'he asked. - -“'Yes, your honour, I can,' said the Prince. - -“'Good. Come along inside the hut; the regimental adjutant is there. He -will enter your name and administer the oath to you.' - -“The adjutant stared very hard at the newcomer but said nothing. When -all the forms had been gone through and the recruit gone out, he turned -to his superior officer. - -“'Do you know who that is?' - -“'Who? That Peter? A likely chap.' - -“'That's Prince Roman S---------.' - -“'Nonsense.' - -“But the adjutant was positive. He had seen the Prince several times, -about two years before, in the Castle in Warsaw. He had even spoken to -him once at a reception of officers held by the Grand Duke. - -“'He's changed. He seems much older, but I am certain of my man. I have -a good memory for faces.' - -“The two officers looked at each other in silence. - -“'He's sure to be recognized sooner or later,' murmured the adjutant. -The colonel shrugged his shoulders. - -“'It's no affair of ours--if he has a fancy to serve in the ranks. As to -being recognized it's not so likely. All our officers and men come from -the other end of Poland.' - -“He meditated gravely for a while, then smiled. 'He told me he could -read and write. There's nothing to prevent me making him a sergeant at -the first opportunity. He's sure to shape all right.' - -“Prince Roman as a non-commissioned officer surpassed the colonel's -expectations. Before long Sergeant Peter became famous for his -resourcefulness and courage. It was not the reckless courage of a -desperate man; it was a self-possessed, as if conscientious, valour -which nothing could dismay; a boundless but equable devotion, unaffected -by time, by reverses, by the discouragement of endless retreats, by the -bitterness of waning hopes and the horrors of pestilence added to the -toils and perils of war. It was in this year that the cholera made its -first appearance in Europe. It devastated the camps of both armies, -affecting the firmest minds with the terror of a mysterious death -stalking silently between the piled-up arms and around the bivouac -fires. - -“A sudden shriek would wake up the harassed soldiers and they would see -in the glow of embers one of themselves writhe on the ground like a worm -trodden on by an invisible foot. And before the dawn broke he would be -stiff and cold. Parties so visited have been known to rise like one man, -abandon the fire and run off into the night in mute panic. Or a comrade -talking to you on the march would stammer suddenly in the middle of a -sentence, roll affrighted eyes, and fall down with distorted face and -blue lips, breaking the ranks with the convulsions of his agony. Men -were struck in the saddle, on sentry duty, in the firing line, carrying -orders, serving the guns. I have been told that in a battalion forming -under fire with perfect steadiness for the assault of a village, three -cases occurred within five minutes at the head of the column; and the -attack could not be delivered because the leading companies scattered -all over the fields like chaff before the wind. - -“Sergeant Peter, young as he was, had a great influence over his men. -It was said that the number of desertions in the squadron in which he -served was less than in any other in the whole of that cavalry division. -Such was supposed to be the compelling example of one man's quiet -intrepidity in facing every form of danger and terror. - -“However that may be, he was liked and trusted generally. When the end -came and the remnants of that army corps, hard pressed on all sides, -were preparing to cross the Prussian frontier, Sergeant Peter had enough -influence to rally round him a score of troopers. He managed to escape -with them at night, from the hemmed-in army. He led this band through -200 miles of country covered by numerous Russian detachments and ravaged -by the cholera. But this was not to avoid captivity, to go into hiding -and try to save themselves. No. He led them into a fortress which was -still occupied by the Poles, and where the last stand of the vanquished -revolution was to be made. - -“This looks like mere fanaticism. But fanaticism is human. Man has -adored ferocious divinities. There is ferocity in every passion, even -in love itself. The religion of undying hope resembles the mad cult of -despair, of death, of annihilation. The difference lies in the moral -motive springing from the secret needs and the unexpressed aspiration -of the believers. It is only to vain men that all is vanity; and all is -deception only to those who have never been sincere with themselves. - -“It was in the fortress that my grandfather found himself together with -Sergeant Peter. My grandfather was a neighbour of the S--------- family -in the country but he did not know Prince Roman, who however knew his -name perfectly well. The Prince introduced himself one night as they -both sat on the ramparts, leaning against a gun carriage. - -“The service he wished to ask for was, in case of his being killed, to -have the intelligence conveyed to his parents. - -“They talked in low tones, the other servants of the piece lying about -near them. My grandfather gave the required promise, and then asked -frankly--for he was greatly interested by the disclosure so unexpectedly -made: - -“But tell me, Prince, why this request? Have you any evil forebodings as -to yourself?' - -“Not in the least; I was thinking of my people. They have no idea where -I am,' answered Prince Roman. 'I'll engage to do as much for you, if you -like. It's certain that half of us at least shall be killed before the -end, so there's an even chance of one of us surviving the other.' - -“My grandfather told him where, as he supposed, his wife and children -were then. From that moment till the end of the siege the two were much -together. On the day of the great assault my grandfather received a -severe wound. The town was taken. Next day the citadel itself, its -hospital full of dead and dying, its magazines empty, its defenders -having burnt their last cartridge, opened its gates. - -“During all the campaign the Prince, exposing his person conscientiously -on every occasion, had not received a scratch. No one had recognized him -or at any rate had betrayed his identity. Till then, as long as he did -his duty, it had mattered nothing who he was. - -“Now, however, the position was changed. As ex-guardsman and as late -ordnance officer to the Emperor, this rebel ran a serious risk of being -given special attention in the shape of a firing squad at ten paces. For -more than a month he remained lost in the miserable crowd of prisoners -packed in the casemates of the citadel, with just enough food to -keep body and soul together but otherwise allowed to die from wounds, -privation, and disease at the rate of forty or so a day. - -“The position of the fortress being central, new parties, captured in -the open in the course of a thorough pacification, were being sent in -frequently. Amongst such newcomers there happened to be a young man, a -personal friend of the Prince from his school days. He recognized him, -and in the extremity of his dismay cried aloud: 'My God! Roman, you -here!' - -“It is said that years of life embittered by remorse paid for this -momentary lack of self-control. All this happened in the main quadrangle -of the citadel. The warning gesture of the Prince came too late. -An officer of the gendarmes on guard had heard the exclamation. The -incident appeared to him worth inquiring into. The investigation which -followed was not very arduous because the Prince, asked categorically -for his real name, owned up at once. - -“The intelligence of the Prince S---------- being found amongst the -prisoners was sent to St. Petersburg. His parents were already there -living in sorrow, incertitude, and apprehension. The capital of the -Empire was the safest place to reside in for a noble whose son had -disappeared so mysteriously from home in a time of rebellion. The old -people had not heard from him, or of him, for months. They took care -not to contradict the rumours of suicide from despair circulating in the -great world, which remembered the interesting love-match, the charming -and frank happiness brought to an end by death. But they hoped secretly -that their son survived, and that he had been able to cross the frontier -with that part of the army which had surrendered to the Prussians. - -“The news of his captivity was a crushing blow. Directly, nothing could -be done for him. But the greatness of their name, of their position, -their wide relations and connections in the highest spheres, enabled his -parents to act indirectly and they moved heaven and earth, as the saying -is, to save their son from the 'consequences of his madness,' as poor -Prince John did not hesitate to express himself. Great personages -were approached by society leaders, high dignitaries were interviewed, -powerful officials were induced to take an interest in that affair. -The help of every possible secret influence was enlisted. Some private -secretaries got heavy bribes. The mistress of a certain senator obtained -a large sum of money. - -“But, as I have said, in such a glaring case no direct appeal could be -made and no open steps taken. All that could be done was to incline -by private representation the mind of the President of the Military -Commission to the side of clemency. He ended by being impressed by the -hints and suggestions, some of them from very high quarters, which he -received from St. Petersburg. And, after all, the gratitude of such -great nobles as the Princes S-------- was something worth having from -a worldly point of view. He was a good Russian but he was also a -good-natured man. Moreover, the hate of Poles was not at that time -a cardinal article of patriotic creed as it became some thirty years -later. He felt well disposed at first sight towards that young man, -bronzed, thin-faced, worn out by months of hard campaigning, the -hardships of the siege and the rigours of captivity. - -“The Commission was composed of three officers. It sat in the citadel in -a bare vaulted room behind a long black table. Some clerks occupied the -two ends, and besides the gendarmes who brought in the Prince there was -no one else there. - -“Within those four sinister walls shutting out from him all the -sights and sounds of liberty, all hopes of the future, all consoling -illusions--alone in the face of his enemies erected for judges, who can -tell how much love of life there was in Prince Roman? How much remained -in that sense of duty, revealed to him in sorrow? How much of his -awakened love for his native country? That country which demands to -be loved as no other country has ever been loved, with the -mournful affection one bears to the unforgotten dead and with the -unextinguishable fire of a hopeless passion which only a living, -breathing, warm ideal can kindle in our breasts for our pride, for our -weariness, for our exultation, for our undoing. - -“There is something monstrous in the thought of such an exaction till -it stands before us embodied in the shape of a fidelity without fear -and without reproach. Nearing the supreme moment of his life the Prince -could only have had the feeling that it was about to end. He answered -the questions put to him clearly, concisely--with the most profound -indifference. After all those tense months of action, to talk was a -weariness to him. But he concealed it, lest his foes should suspect in -his manner the apathy of discouragement or the numbness of a crushed -spirit. The details of his conduct could have no importance one way or -another; with his thoughts these men had nothing to do. He preserved a -scrupulously courteous tone. He had refused the permission to sit down. - -“What happened at this preliminary examination is only known from the -presiding officer. Pursuing the only possible course in that glaringly -bad case he tried from the first to bring to the Prince's mind the line -of defence he wished him to take. He absolutely framed his questions so -as to put the right answers in the culprit's mouth, going so far as to -suggest the very words: how, distracted by excessive grief after his -young wife's death, rendered irresponsible for his conduct by his -despair, in a moment of blind recklessness, without realizing the highly -reprehensible nature of the act, nor yet its danger and its dishonour, -he went off to join the nearest rebels on a sudden impulse. And that -now, penitently... - -“But Prince Roman was silent. The military judges looked at him -hopefully. In silence he reached for a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper -he found under his hand: 'I joined the national rising from conviction.' - -“He pushed the paper across the table. The president took it up, showed -it in turn to his two colleagues sitting to the right and left, then -looking fixedly at Prince Roman let it fall from his hand. And the -silence remained unbroken till he spoke to the gendarmes ordering them -to remove the prisoner. - -“Such was the written testimony of Prince Roman in the supreme moment of -his life. I have heard that the Princes of the S--------- family, in -all its branches, adopted the last two words: 'From conviction' for the -device under the armorial bearings of their house. I don't know whether -the report is true. My uncle could not tell me. He remarked only, that -naturally, it was not to be seen on Prince Roman's own seal. - -“He was condemned for life to Siberian mines. Emperor Nicholas, who -always took personal cognizance of all sentences on Polish nobility, -wrote with his own hand in the margin: 'The authorities are severely -warned to take care that this convict walks in chains like any other -criminal every step of the way.' - -“It was a sentence of deferred death. Very few survived entombment in -these mines for more than three years. Yet as he was reported as still -alive at the end of that time he was allowed, on a petition of his -parents and by way of exceptional grace, to serve as common soldier in -the Caucasus. All communication with him was forbidden. He had no civil -rights. For all practical purposes except that of suffering he was a -dead man. The little child he had been so careful not to wake up when -he kissed her in her cot, inherited all the fortune after Prince John's -death. Her existence saved those immense estates from confiscation. - -“It was twenty-five years before Prince Roman, stone deaf, his health -broken, was permitted to return to Poland. His daughter married -splendidly to a Polish Austrian _grand seigneur_ and, moving in the -cosmopolitan sphere of the highest European aristocracy, lived mostly -abroad in Nice and Vienna. He, settling down on one of her estates, not -the one with the palatial residence but another where there was a modest -little house, saw very little of her. - -“But Prince Roman did not shut himself up as if his work were done. -There was hardly anything done in the private and public life of the -neighbourhood, in which Prince Roman's advice and assistance were not -called upon, and never in vain. It was well said that his days did not -belong to himself but to his fellow citizens. And especially he was the -particular friend of all returned exiles, helping them with purse and -advice, arranging their affairs and finding them means of livelihood. - -“I heard from my uncle many tales of his devoted activity, in which he -was always guided by a simple wisdom, a high sense of honour, and the -most scrupulous conception of private and public probity. He remains a -living figure for me because of that meeting in a billiard room, when, -in my anxiety to hear about a particularly wolfish wolf, I came in -momentary contact with a man who was preeminently a man amongst all men -capable of feeling deeply, of believing steadily, of loving ardently. - -“I remember to this day the grasp of Prince Roman's bony, wrinkled hand -closing on my small inky paw, and my uncle's half-serious, half-amused -way of looking down at his trespassing nephew. - -“They moved on and forgot that little boy. But I did not move; I gazed -after them, not so much disappointed as disconcerted by this prince so -utterly unlike a prince in a fairy tale. They moved very slowly across -the room. Before reaching the other door the Prince stopped, and I heard -him--I seem to hear him now--saying: 'I wish you would write to Vienna -about filling up that post. He's a most deserving fellow--and your -recommendation would be decisive.' - -“My uncle's face turned to him expressed genuine wonder. It said as -plainly as any speech could say: What better recommendation than a -father's can be needed? The Prince was quick at reading expressions. -Again he spoke with the toneless accent of a man who has not heard his -own voice for years, for whom the soundless world is like an abode of -silent shades. - -“And to this day I remember the very words: 'I ask you because, you see, -my daughter and my son-in-law don't believe me to be a good judge -of men. They think that I let myself be guided too much by mere -sentiment.'” - - - - - -THE TALE (1917) - - -Outside the large single window the crepuscular light was dying out -slowly in a great square gleam without colour, framed rigidly in the -gathering shades of the room. - -It was a long room. The irresistible tide of the night ran into the most -distant part of it, where the whispering of a man's voice, passionately -interrupted and passionately renewed, seemed to plead against the -answering murmurs of infinite sadness. - -At last no answering murmur came. His movement when he rose slowly from -his knees by the side of the deep, shadowy couch holding the shadowy -suggestion of a reclining woman revealed him tall under the low ceiling, -and sombre all over except for the crude discord of the white collar -under the shape of his head and the faint, minute spark of a brass -button here and there on his uniform. - -He stood over her a moment, masculine and mysterious in his immobility, -before he sat down on a chair near by. He could see only the faint oval -of her upturned face and, extended on her black dress, her pale hands, a -moment before abandoned to his kisses and now as if too weary to move. - -He dared not make a sound, shrinking as a man would do from the prosaic -necessities of existence. As usual, it was the woman who had the -courage. Her voice was heard first--almost conventional while her being -vibrated yet with conflicting emotions. - -“Tell me something,” she said. - -The darkness hid his surprise and then his smile. Had he not just said -to her everything worth saying in the world--and that not for the first -time! - -“What am I to tell you?” he asked, in a voice creditably steady. He was -beginning to feel grateful to her for that something final in her tone -which had eased the strain. - -“Why not tell me a tale?” - -“A tale!” He was really amazed. - -“Yes. Why not?” - -These words came with a slight petulance, the hint of a loved woman's -capricious will, which is capricious only because it feels itself to to -be a law, embarrassing sometimes and always difficult to elude. - -“Why not?” he repeated, with a slightly mocking accent, as though he had -been asked to give her the moon. But now he was feeling a little angry -with her for that feminine mobility that slips out of an emotion as -easily as out of a splendid gown. - -He heard her say, a little unsteadily with a sort of fluttering -intonation which made him think suddenly of a butterfly's flight: - -“You used to tell--your--your simple and--and professional--tales very -well at one time. Or well enough to interest me. You had a--a sort of -art--in the days--the days before the war.” - -“Really?” he said, with involuntary gloom. “But now, you see, the war -is going on,” he continued in such a dead, equable tone that she felt a -slight chill fall over her shoulders. And yet she persisted. For there's -nothing more unswerving in the world than a woman's caprice. - -“It could be a tale not of this world,” she explained. - -“You want a tale of the other, the better world?” he asked, with a -matter-of-fact surprise. “You must evoke for that task those who have -already gone there.” - -“No. I don't mean that. I mean another--some other--world. In the -universe--not in heaven.” - -“I am relieved. But you forget that I have only five days' leave.” - -“Yes. And I've also taken a five days' leave from--from my duties.” - -“I like that word.” - -“What word?” - -“Duty.” - -“It is horrible--sometimes.” - -“Oh, that's because you think it's narrow. But it isn't. It contains -infinities, and--and so------” - -“What is this jargon?” - -He disregarded the interjected scorn. “An infinity of absolution, for -instance,” he continued. “But as to this another world'--who's going to -look for it and for the tale that is in it?” - -“You,” she said, with a strange, almost rough, sweetness of assertion. - -He made a shadowy movement of assent in his chair, the irony of which -not even the gathered darkness could render mysterious. - -“As you will. In that world, then, there was once upon a time a -Commanding Officer and a Northman. Put in the capitals, please, because -they had no other names. It was a world of seas and continents and -islands------” - -“Like the earth,” she murmured, bitterly. - -“Yes. What else could you expect from sending a man made of our common, -tormented clay on a voyage of discovery? What else could he find? What -else could you understand or care for, or feel the existence of even? -There was comedy in it, and slaughter.” - -“Always like the earth,” she murmured. “Always. And since I could find -in the universe only what was deeply rooted in the fibres of my being -there was love in it, too. But we won't talk of that.” - -“No. We won't,” she said, in a neutral tone which concealed perfectly -her relief--or her disappointment. Then after a pause she added: “It's -going to be a comic story.” - -“Well------” he paused, too. “Yes. In a way. In a very grim way. It will -be human, and, as you know, comedy is but a matter of the visual angle. -And it won't be a noisy story. All the long guns in it will be dumb--as -dumb as so many telescopes.” - -“Ah, there are guns in it, then! And may I ask--where?” - -“Afloat. You remember that the world of which we speak had its seas. A -war was going on in it. It was a funny work! and terribly in earnest. -Its war was being carried on over the land, over the water, under the -water, up in the air, and even under the ground. And many young men -in it, mostly in wardrooms and mess-rooms, used to say to each -other--pardon the unparliamentary word--they used to say, 'It's a damned -bad war, but it's better than no war at all.' Sounds flippant, doesn't -it.” - -He heard a nervous, impatient sigh in the depths of the couch while he -went on without a pause. - -“And yet there is more in it than meets the eye. I mean more wisdom. -Flippancy, like comedy, is but a matter of visual first impression. That -world was not very wise. But there was in it a certain amount of common -working sagacity. That, however, was mostly worked by the neutrals in -diverse ways, public and private, which had to be watched; watched by -acute minds and also by actual sharp eyes. They had to be very sharp -indeed, too, I assure you.” - -“I can imagine,” she murmured, appreciatively. - -“What is there that you can't imagine?” he pronounced, soberly. “You -have the world in you. But let us go back to our commanding officer, -who, of course, commanded a ship of a sort. My tales if often -professional (as you remarked just now) have never been technical. So -I'll just tell you that the ship was of a very ornamental sort once, -with lots of grace and elegance and luxury about her. Yes, once! She -was like a pretty woman who had suddenly put on a suit of sackcloth and -stuck revolvers in her belt. But she floated lightly, she moved nimbly, -she was quite good enough.” - -“That was the opinion of the commanding officer?” said the voice from -the couch. - -“It was. He used to be sent out with her along certain coasts to -see--what he could see. Just that. And sometimes he had some preliminary -information to help him, and sometimes he had not. And it was all one, -really. It was about as useful as information trying to convey the -locality and intentions of a cloud, of a phantom taking shape here and -there and impossible to seize, would have been. - -“It was in the early days of the war. What at first used to amaze -the commanding officer was the unchanged face of the waters, with its -familiar expression, neither more friendly nor more hostile. On fine -days the sun strikes sparks upon the blue; here and there a peaceful -smudge of smoke hangs in the distance, and it is impossible to believe -that the familiar clear horizon traces the limit of one great circular -ambush. - -“Yes, it is impossible to believe, till some day you see a ship not your -own ship (that isn't so impressive), but some ship in company, blow up -all of a sudden and plop under almost before you know what has happened -to her. Then you begin to believe. Henceforth you go out for the work -to see--what you can see, and you keep on at it with the conviction that -some day you will die from something you have not seen. One envies the -soldiers at the end of the day, wiping the sweat and blood from -their faces, counting the dead fallen to their hands, looking at the -devastated fields, the torn earth that seems to suffer and bleed -with them. One does, really. The final brutality of it--the taste of -primitive passion--the ferocious frankness of the blow struck with one's -hand--the direct call and the straight response. Well, the sea gave you -nothing of that, and seemed to pretend that there was nothing the matter -with the world.” - -She interrupted, stirring a little. - -“Oh, yes. Sincerity--frankness--passion--three words of your gospel. -Don't I know them!” - -“Think! Isn't it ours--believed in common?” he asked, anxiously, -yet without expecting an answer, and went on at once: “Such were the -feelings of the commanding officer. When the night came trailing over -the sea, hiding what looked like the hypocrisy of an old friend, it was -a relief. The night blinds you frankly--and there are circumstances when -the sunlight may grow as odious to one as falsehood itself. Night is all -right. - -“At night the commanding officer could let his thoughts get away--I -won't tell you where. Somewhere where there was no choice but between -truth and death. But thick weather, though it blinded one, brought -no such relief. Mist is deceitful, the dead luminosity of the fog is -irritating. It seems that you _ought_ to see. - -“One gloomy, nasty day the ship was steaming along her beat in sight -of a rocky, dangerous coast that stood out intensely black like an -India-ink drawing on gray paper. Presently the second in command spoke -to his chief. He thought he saw something on the water, to seaward. -Small wreckage, perhaps. - -“'But there shouldn't be any wreckage here, sir,' he remarked. - -“'No,' said the commanding officer. 'The last reported submarined ships -were sunk a long way to the westward. But one never knows. There may -have been others since then not reported nor seen. Gone with all hands.' - -“That was how it began. The ship's course was altered to pass the object -close; for it was necessary to have a good look at what one could see. -Close, but without touching; for it was not advisable to come in contact -with objects of any form whatever floating casually about. Close, but -without stopping or even diminishing speed; for in those times it was -not prudent to linger on any particular spot, even for a moment. I may -tell you at once that the object was not dangerous in itself. No use -in describing it. It may have been nothing more remarkable than, say, a -barrel of a certain shape and colour. But it was significant. - -“The smooth bow-wave hove it up as if for a closer inspection, and -then the ship, brought again to her course, turned her back on it with -indifference, while twenty pairs of eyes on her deck stared in all -directions trying to see--what they could see. - -“The commanding officer and his second in command discussed the object -with understanding. It appeared to them to be not so much a proof of the -sagacity as of the activity of certain neutrals. This activity had -in many cases taken the form of replenishing the stores of certain -submarines at sea. This was generally believed, if not absolutely known. -But the very nature of things in those early days pointed that way. -The object, looked at closely and turned away from with apparent -indifference, put it beyond doubt that something of the sort had been -done somewhere in the neighbourhood. - -“The object in itself was more than suspect. But the fact of its being -left in evidence roused other suspicions. Was it the result of some deep -and devilish purpose? As to that all speculation soon appeared to be a -vain thing. Finally the two officers came to the conclusion that it -wras left there most likely by accident, complicated possibly by some -unforeseen necessity; such, perhaps, as the sudden need to get away -quickly from the spot, or something of that kind. - -“Their discussion had been carried on in curt, weighty phrases, -separated by long, thoughtful silences. And all the time their eyes -roamed about the horizon in an everlasting, almost mechanical effort of -vigilance. The younger man summed up grimly: - -“'Well, it's evidence. That's what this is. Evidence of what we were -pretty certain of before. And plain, too.' - -“'And much good it will do to us,' retorted the commanding officer. 'The -parties are miles away; the submarine, devil only knows where, ready -to kill; and the noble neutral slipping away to the eastward, ready to -lie!' - -“The second in command laughed a little at the tone. But he guessed -that the neutral wouldn't even have to lie very much. Fellows like that, -unless caught in the very act, felt themselves pretty safe. They could -afford to chuckle. That fellow was probably chuckling to himself. It's -very possible he had been before at the game and didn't care a rap for -the bit of evidence left behind. It was a game in which practice made -one bold and successful, too. - -“And again he laughed faintly. But his commanding officer was in -revolt against the murderous stealthiness of methods and the atrocious -callousness of complicities that seemed to taint the very source of -men's deep emotions and noblest activities; to corrupt their -imagination which builds up the final conceptions of life and death. He -suffered-------” - -The voice from the sofa interrupted the narrator. - -“How well I can understand that in him!” - -He bent forward slightly. - -“Yes. I, too. Everything should be open in love and war. Open as -the day, since both are the call of an ideal which it is so easy, so -terribly easy, to degrade in the name of Victory.” - -He paused; then went on: I don't know that the commanding officer delved -so deep as that into his feelings. But he did suffer from them--a sort -of disenchanted sadness. It is possible, even, that he suspected himself -of folly. Man is various. But he had no time for much introspection, -because from the southwest a wall of fog had advanced upon his ship. -Great convolutions of vapours flew over, swirling about masts and -funnel, which looked as if they were beginning to melt. Then they -vanished. - -“The ship was stopped, all sounds ceased, and the very fog became -motionless, growing denser and as if solid in its amazing dumb -immobility. The men at their stations lost sight of each other. -Footsteps sounded stealthy; rare voices, impersonal and remote, died out -without resonance. A blind white stillness took possession of the world. - -“It looked, too, as if it would last for days. I don't mean to say that -the fog did not vary a little in its density. Now and then it would -thin out mysteriously, revealing to the men a more or less ghostly -presentment of their ship. Several times the shadow of the coast itself -swam darkly before their eyes through the fluctuating opaque brightness -of the great white cloud clinging to the water. - -“Taking advantage of these moments, the ship had been moved cautiously -nearer the shore. It was useless to remain out in such thick weather. -Her officers knew every nook and cranny of the coast along their beat. -They thought that she would be much better in a certain cove. It wasn't -a large place, just ample room for a ship to swing at her anchor. She -would have an easier time of it till the fog lifted up. - -“Slowly, with infinite caution and patience, they crept closer and -closer, seeing no more of the cliffs than an evanescent dark loom with a -narrow border of angry foam at its foot. At the moment of anchoring -the fog was so thick that for all they could see they might have been a -thousand miles out in the open sea. Yet the shelter of the land could -be felt. There was a peculiar quality in the stillness of the air. Very -faint, very elusive, the wash of the ripple against the encircling land -reached their ears, with mysterious sudden pauses. - -“The anchor dropped, the leads were laid in. The commanding officer went -below into his cabin. But he had not been there very long when a voice -outside his door requested his presence on deck. He thought to himself: -'What is it now?' He felt some impatience at being called out again to -face the wearisome fog. - -“He found that it had thinned again a little and had taken on a gloomy -hue from the dark cliffs which had no form, no outline, but asserted -themselves as a curtain of shadows all round the ship, except in one -bright spot, which was the entrance from the open sea. Several officers -were looking that way from the bridge. The second in command met him -with the breathlessly whispered information that there was another ship -in the cove. - -“She had been made out by several pairs of eyes only a couple of minutes -before. She was lying at anchor very near the entrance--a mere vague -blot on the fog's brightness. And the commanding officer by staring in -the direction pointed out to him by eager hands ended by distinguishing -it at last himself. Indubitably a vessel of some sort. - -“'It's a wonder we didn't run slap into her when coming in,' observed -the second in command. - -“'Send a boat on board before she vanishes,' said the commanding -officer. He surmised that this was a coaster. It could hardly be -anything else. But another thought came into his head suddenly. 'It is -a wonder,' he said to his second in command, who had rejoined him after -sending the boat away. - -“By that time both of them had been struck by the fact that the ship so -suddenly discovered had not manifested her presence by ringing her bell. - -“'We came in very quietly, that's true,' concluded the younger officer. -'But they must have heard our leadsmen at least. We couldn't have passed -her more than fifty yards off. The closest shave! They may even have -made us out, since they were aware of something coming in. And the -strange thing is that we never heard a sound from her. The fellows on -board must have been holding their breath.' - -“'Aye,' said the commanding officer, thoughtfully. - -“In due course the boarding-boat returned, appearing suddenly -alongside, as though she had burrowed her way under the fog. The officer -in charge came up to make his report, but the commanding officer didn't -give him time to begin. He cried from a distance: - -“'Coaster, isn't she?' - -“'No, sir. A stranger--a neutral,' was the answer. - -“'No. Really! Well, tell us all about it. What is she doing here?' - -“The young man stated then that he had been told a long and complicated -story of engine troubles. But it was plausible enough from a strictly -professional point of view and it had the usual features: disablement, -dangerous drifting along the shore, weather more or less thick for days, -fear of a gale, ultimately a resolve to go in and anchor anywhere on the -coast, and so on. Fairly plausible. - -“'Engines still disabled?' inquired the commanding officer. - -“'No, sir. She has steam on them.' - -“The commanding officer took his second aside. 'By Jove!' he said, 'you -were right! They were holding their breaths as we passed them. They -were.' - -“But the second in command had his doubts now. - -“'A fog like this does muffle small sounds, sir,' he remarked. 'And what -could his object be, after all?' - -“'To sneak out unnoticed,' answered the commanding officer. - -“'Then why didn't he? He might have done it, you know. Not exactly -unnoticed, perhaps. I don't suppose he could have slipped his cable -without making some noise. Still, in a minute or so he would have been -lost to view--clean gone before we had made him out fairly. Yet he -didn't.' - -“They looked at each other. The commanding officer shook his head. -Such suspicions as the one which had entered his head are not defended -easily. He did not even state it openly. The boarding officer finished -his report. The cargo of the ship was of a harmless and useful -character. She was bound to an English port. Papers and everything in -perfect order. Nothing suspicious to be detected anywhere. - -“Then passing to the men, he reported the crew on deck as the usual lot. -Engineers of the well-known type, and very full of their achievement in -repairing the engines. The mate surly. The master rather a fine specimen -of a Northman, civil enough, but appeared to have been drinking. Seemed -to be recover-ing from a regular bout of it. - -“'I told him I couldn't give him permission to proceed. He said he -wouldn't dare to move his ship her own length out in such weather as -this, permission or no permission. I left a man on board, though.' - -“'Quite right.' - -“The commanding officer, after communing with his suspicions for a time, -called his second aside. - -“'What if she were the very ship which had been feeding some infernal -submarine or other?' he said in an undertone. - -“The other started. Then, with conviction: - -“'She would get off scot-free. You couldn't prove it, sir.' - -“'I want to look into it myself.' - -“'From the report we've heard I am afraid you couldn't even make a case -for reasonable suspicion, sir.' - -“'I'll go on board all the same.' - -“He had made up his mind. Curiosity is the great motive power of -hatred and love. What did he expect to find? He could not have told -anybody--not even himself. - -“What he really expected to find there was the atmosphere, the -atmosphere of gratuitous treachery, which in his view nothing could -excuse; for he thought that even a passion of unrighteousness for its -own sake could not excuse that. But could he detect it? Sniff it? -Taste it? Receive some mysterious communication which would turn his -invincible suspicions into a certitude strong enough to provoke action -with all its risks? - -“The master met him on the after-deck, looming up in the fog amongst the -blurred shapes of the usual snip's fittings. He was a robust Northman, -bearded, and in the force of his age. A round leather cap fitted his -head closely. His hands were rammed deep into the pockets of his short -leather jacket. He kept them there while lie explained that at sea he -lived in the chart-room, and led the way there, striding carelessly. -Just before reaching the door under the bridge he staggered a little, -recovered himself, flung it open, and stood aside, leaning his shoulder -as if involuntarily against the side of the house, and staring vaguely -into the fog-filled space. But he followed the commanding officer at -once, flung the door to, snapped on the electric light, and hastened to -thrust his hands back into his pockets, as though afraid of being seized -by them either in friendship or in hostility. - -“The place was stuffy and hot. The usual chart-rack overhead was full, -and the chart on the table was kept unrolled by an empty cup standing on -a saucer half-full of some spilt dark liquid. A slightly nibbled biscuit -reposed on the chronometer-case. There were two settees, and one of them -had been made up into a bed with a pillow and some blankets, which were -now very much tumbled. The Northman let himself fall on it, his hands -still in his pockets. - -“'Well, here I am,' he said, with a curious air of being surprised at -the sound of his own voice. - -“The commanding officer from the other settee observed the handsome, -flushed face. Drops of fog hung on the yellow beard and moustaches of -the Northman. The much darker eyebrows ran together in a puzzled frown, -and suddenly he jumped up. - -“'What I mean is that I don't know where I am. I really don't,' he -burst out, with extreme earnestness. 'Hang it all! I got turned around -somehow. The fog has been after me for a week. More than a week. And -then my engines broke down. I will tell you how it was.' - -“He burst out into loquacity. It was not hurried, but it was insistent. -It was not continuous for all that. It was broken by the most queer, -thoughtful pauses. Each of these pauses lasted no more than a couple of -seconds, and each had the profoundity of an endless meditation. When he -began again nothing betrayed in him the slightest consciousness of -these intervals. There was the same fixed glance, the same unchanged -earnestness of tone. He didn't know. Indeed, more than one of these -pauses occurred in the middle of a sentence. - -“The commanding officer listened to the tale. It struck him as more -plausible than simple truth is in the habit of being. But that, perhaps, -was prejudice. All the time the Northman was speaking the commanding -officer had been aware of an inward voice, a grave murmur in the depth -of his very own self, telling another tale, as if on purpose to keep -alive in him his indignation and his anger with that baseness of greed -or of mere outlook which lies often at the root of simple ideas. - -“It was the story that had been already told to the boarding officer -an hour or so before. The commanding officer nodded slightly at the -Northman from time to time. The latter came to an end and turned his -eyes away. He added, as an afterthought: - -“'Wasn't it enough to drive a man out of his mind with worry? And it's my -first voyage to this part, too. And the ship's my own. Your officer has -seen the papers. She isn't much, as you can see for yourself. Just an -old cargo-boat. Bare living for my family.' - -“He raised a big arm to point at a row of photographs plastering the -bulkhead. The movement was ponderous, as if the arm had been made of -lead. The commanding officer said, carelessly: - -“'You will be making a fortune yet for your family with this old ship.' - -“'Yes, if I don't lose her,' said the Northman, gloomily. - -“'I mean--out of this war,' added the commanding officer. - -“The Northman stared at him in a curiously unseeing and at the same time -interested manner, as only eyes of a particular blue shade can stare. - -“'And you wouldn't be angry at it,' he said, 'would you? You are too -much of a gentleman. We didn't bring this on you. And suppose we sat -down and cried. What good would that be? Let those cry who made -the trouble,' he concluded, with energy. 'Time's money, you say. -Well--_this_ time _is_ money. Oh! isn't it!' - -“The commanding officer tried to keep under the feeling of immense -disgust. He said to himself that it was unreasonable. Men were like -that--moral cannibals feeding on each other's misfortunes. He said -aloud: - -“'You have made it perfectly plain how it is that you are here. Your -log-book confirms you very minutely. Of course, a log-book may be -cooked. Nothing easier.' - -“The Northman never moved a muscle. He was gazing at the floor; he -seemed not to have heard. He raised his head after a while. - -“'But you can't suspect me of anything,' he muttered, negligently. - -“The commanding officer thought: 'Why should he say this?' - -“Immediately afterwards the man before him added: 'My cargo is for an -English port.' - -“His voice had turned husky for the moment. The commanding officer -reflected: 'That's true. There can be nothing. I can't suspect him. Yet -why was he lying with steam up in this fog--and then, hearing us come -in, why didn't he give some sign of life? Why? Could it be anything else -but a guilty conscience? He could tell by the leadsmen that this was a -man-of-war.' - -“Yes--why? The commanding officer went on thinking: 'Suppose I ask -him and then watch his face. He will betray himself in some way. It's -perfectly plain that the fellow _has_ been drinking. Yes, he has been -drinking; but he will have a lie ready all the same.' The commanding -officer was one of those men who are made morally and almost physically -uncomfortable by the mere thought of having to beat down a lie. He -shrank from the act in scorn and disgust, which were invincible because -more temperamental than moral. - -“So he went out on deck instead and had the crew mustered formally for -his inspection. He found them very much what the report of the boarding -officer had led him to expect. And from their answers to his questions -he could discover no flaw in the log-book story. - -“He dismissed them. His impression of them was--a picked lot; have been -promised a fistful of money each if this came off; all slightly anxious, -but not frightened. Not a single one of them likely to give the show -away. They don't feel in danger of their life. They know England and -English ways too well! - -“He felt alarmed at catching himself thinking as if his vaguest -suspicions were turning into a certitude. For, indeed, there was no -shadow of reason for his inferences. There was nothing to give away. - -“He returned to the chart-room. The Northman had lingered behind there; -and something subtly different in his bearing, more bold in his blue, -glassy stare, induced the commanding officer to conclude that the fellow -had snatched at the opportunity to take another swig at the bottle he -must have had concealed somewhere. - -“He noticed, too, that the Northman on meeting his eyes put on an -elaborately surprised expression. At least, it seemed elaborated. -Nothing could be trusted. And the Englishman felt himself with -astonishing conviction faced by an enormous lie, solid like a wall, with -no way round to get at the truth, whose ugly murderous face he seemed to -see peeping over at him with a cynical grin. - -“'I dare say,' he began, suddenly, 'you are wondering at my proceedings, -though I am not detaining you, am I? You wouldn't dare to move in this -fog?' - -“'I don't know where I am,' the Northman ejaculated, earnestly. 'I -really don't.' - -“He looked around as if the very chart-room fittings were strange -to him. The commanding officer asked him whether he had not seen any -unusual objects floating about while he was at sea. - -“'Objects! What objects? We were groping blind in the fog for days.' - -“'We had a few clear intervals' said the commanding officer. 'And I'll -tell you what we have seen and the conclusion I've come to about it.' - -“He told him in a few words. He heard the sound of a sharp breath -indrawn through closed teeth. The Northman with his hand on the table -stood absolutely motionless and dumb. He stood as if thunderstruck. Then -he produced a fatuous smile. - -“Or at least so it appeared to the commanding officer. Was this -significant, or of no meaning whatever? He didn't know, he couldn't -tell. All the truth had departed out of the world as if drawn in, -absorbed in this monstrous villainy this man was--or was not--guilty of. - -“'Shooting's too good for people that conceive neutrality in this pretty -way,' remarked the commanding officer, after a silence. - -“'Yes, yes, yes,' the Northman assented, hurriedly--then added an -unexpected and dreamy-voiced 'Perhaps.' - -“Was he pretending to be drunk, or only trying to appear sober? His -glance was straight, but it was somewhat glazed. His lips outlined -themselves firmly under his yellow moustache. But they twitched. Did -they twitch? And why was he drooping like this in his attitude? - -“'There's no perhaps about it,' pronounced the commanding officer -sternly. - -“The Northman had straightened himself. And unexpectedly he looked -stern, too. - -“'No. But what about the tempters? Better kill that lot off. There's -about four, five, six million of them,' he said, grimly; but in a moment -changed into a whining key. 'But I had better hold my tongue. You have -some suspicions.' - -“'No, I've no suspicions,' declared the commanding officer. - -“He never faltered. At that moment he had the certitude. The air of the -chart-room was thick with guilt and falsehood braving the discovery, -defying simple right, common decency, all humanity of feeling, every -scruple of conduct. - -“The Northman drew a long breath. 'Well, we know that you English are -gentlemen. But let us speak the truth. Why should we love you so very -much? You haven't done anything to be loved. We don't love the other -people, of course. They haven't done anything for that either. A fellow -comes along with a bag of gold... I haven't been in Rotterdam my last -voyage for nothing.' - -“'You may be able to tell something interesting, then, to our people -when you come into port,' interjected the officer. - -“I might. But you keep some people in your pay at Rotterdam. Let them -report. I am a neutral--am I not?... Have you ever seen a poor man -on one side and a bag of gold on the other? Of course, I couldn't be -tempted. I haven't the nerve for it. Really I haven't. It's nothing to -me. I am just talking openly for once.' - -“'Yes. And I am listening to you,' said the commanding officer, quietly. - -“The Northman leaned forward over the table. 'Now that I know you have -no suspicions, I talk. You don't know what a poor man is. I do. I am -poor myself. This old ship, she isn't much, and she is mortgaged, too. -Bare living, no more. Of course, I wouldn't have the nerve. But a man -who has nerve! See. The stuff he takes aboard looks like any other -cargo--packages, barrels, tins, copper tubes--what not. He doesn't see -it work. It isn't real to him. But he sees the gold. That's real. Of -course, nothing could induce me. I suffer from an internal disease. I -would either go crazy from anxiety--or--or--take to drink or something. -The risk is too great. Why--ruin!' - -“'It should be death.' The commanding officer got up, after this curt -declaration, which the other received with a hard stare oddly combined -with an uncertain smile. The officer's gorge rose at the atmosphere of -murderous complicity which surrounded him, denser, more impenetrable, -more acrid than the fog outside. - -“'It's nothing to me,' murmured the Northman, swaying visibly. - -“'Of course not,' assented the commanding officer, with a great effort -to keep his voice calm and low. The certitude was strong within him. -'But I am going to clear all you fellows off this coast at once. And I -will begin with you. You must leave in half an hour.' - -“By that time the officer was walking along the deck with the Northman -at his elbow. - -“'What! In this fog?' the latter cried out, huskily. - -“'Yes, you will have to go in this fog.' - -“'But I don't know where I am. I really don't.' - -“The commanding officer turned round. A sort of fury possessed him. -The eyes of the two men met. Those of the Northman expressed a profound -amazement. - -“'Oh, you don't know how to get out.' The commanding officer spoke with -composure, but his heart was beating with anger and dread. 'I will give -you your course. Steer south-by-east-half-east for about four miles -and then you will be clear to haul to the eastward for your port. The -weather will clear up before very long.' - -“'Must I? What could induce me? I haven't the nerve.' - -“'And yet you must go. Unless you want to------' - -“'I don't want to,' panted the Northman. 'I've enough of it.' - -“The commanding officer got over the side. The Northman remained -still as if rooted to the deck. Before his boat reached his ship the -commanding officer heard the steamer beginning to pick up her anchor. -Then, shadowy in the fog, she steamed out on the given course. - -“'Yes,' he said to his officers, 'I let him go.'” - -The narrator bent forward towards the couch, where no movement betrayed -the presence of a living person. - -“Listen,” he said, forcibly. “That course would lead the Northman -straight on a deadly ledge of rock. And the commanding officer gave it -to him. He steamed out--ran on it--and went down. So he had spoken the -truth. He did not know where he was. But it proves nothing. Nothing -either way. It may have been the only truth in all his story. And yet... -He seems to have been driven out by a menacing stare--nothing more.” - -He abandoned all pretence. - -“Yes, I gave that course to him. It seemed to me a supreme test. I -believe--no, I don't believe. I don't know. At the time I was certain. -They all went down; and I don't know whether I have done stern -retribution--or murder; whether I have added to the corpses that litter -the bed of the unreadable sea the bodies of men completely innocent or -basely guilty. I don't know. I shall never know.” - -He rose. The woman on the couch got up and threw her arms round his -neck. Her eyes put two gleams in the deep shadow of the room. She knew -his passion for truth, his horror of deceit, his humanity. - -“Oh, my poor, poor------” - -“I shall never know,” he repeated, sternly, disengaged himself, pressed -her hands to his lips, and went out. - - - - - -THE BLACK MATE (1884) - - -A good many years ago there were several ships loading at the Jetty, -London Dock. I am speaking here of the 'eighties of the last century, of -the time when London had plenty of fine ships in the docks, though not -so many fine buildings in its streets. - -The ships at the Jetty were fine enough; they lay one behind the other; -and the __Sapphire__, third from the end, was as good as the rest of -them, and nothing more. Each ship at the Jetty had, of course, her chief -officer on board. So had every other ship in dock. - -The policeman at the gates knew them all by sight, without being able to -say at once, without thinking, to what ship any particular man belonged. -As a matter of fact, the mates of the ships then lying in the London -Dock were like the majority of officers in the Merchant Service--a -steady, hard-working, staunch, un-romantic-looking set of men, -belonging to various classes of society, but with the professional stamp -obliterating the personal characteristics, which were not very marked -anyhow. - -This last was true of them all, with the exception of the mate of the -_Sapphire_. Of him the policemen could not be in doubt. This one had a -presence. - -He was noticeable to them in the street from a great distance; and when -in the morning he strode down the Jetty to his ship, the lumpers and -the dock labourers rolling the bales and trundling the cases of cargo on -their hand-trucks would remark to each other: - -“Here's the black mate coming along.” - -That was the name they gave him, being a gross lot, who could have no -appreciation of the man's dignified bearing. And to call him black was -the superficial impressionism of the ignorant. - -Of course, Mr. Bunter, the mate of the _Sapphire_, was not black. He was -no more black than you or I, and certainly as white as any chief mate -of a ship in the whole of the Port of London. His complexion was of the -sort that did not take the tan easily; and I happen to know that -the poor fellow had had a month's illness just before he joined the -_Sapphire_. - -From this you will perceive that I knew Bunter. Of course I knew -him. And, what's more, I knew his secret at the time, this secret -which--never mind just now. Returning to Bunter's personal appearance, -it was nothing but ignorant prejudice on the part of the foreman -stevedore to say, as he did in my hearing: “I bet he's a furriner of -some sort.” A man may have black hair without being set down for a Dago. -I have known a West-country sailor, boatswain of a fine ship, who looked -more Spanish than any Spaniard afloat I've ever met. He looked like a -Spaniard in a picture. - -Competent authorities tell us that this earth is to be finally the -inheritance of men with dark hair and brown eyes. It seems that already -the great majority of mankind is dark-haired in various shades. But -it is only when you meet one that you notice how men with really black -hair, black as ebony, are rare. Bunter's hair was absolutely black, -black as a raven's wing. He wore, too, all his beard (clipped, but a -good length all the same), and his eyebrows were thick and bushy. Add -to this steely blue eyes, which in a fair-haired man would have been -nothing so extraordinary, but in that sombre framing made a startling -contrast, and you will easily understand that Bunter was noticeable -enough. - -If it had not been for the quietness of his movements, for the general -soberness of his demeanour, one would have given him credit for a -fiercely passionate nature. - -Of course, he was not in his first youth; but if the expression “in the -force of his age” has any meaning, he realized it completely. He was -a tall man, too, though rather spare. Seeing him from his poop -indefatigably busy with his duties, Captain Ashton, of the clipper -ship _Elsinore_, lying just ahead of the _Sapphire_, remarked once to a -friend that “Johns has got somebody there to hustle his ship along for -him.” - -Captain Johns, master of the _Sapphire_, having commanded ships for -many years, was well known without being much respected or liked. In the -company of his fellows he was either neglected or chaffed. The chaffing -was generally undertaken by Captain Ashton, a cynical and teasing sort -of man. It was Captain Ashton who permitted himself the unpleasant joke -of proclaiming once in company that “Johns is of the opinion that every -sailor above forty years of age ought to be poisoned--shipmasters in -actual command excepted.” - -It was in a City restaurant, where several well-known shipmasters were -having lunch together. There was Captain Ashton, florid and jovial, in a -large white waistcoat and with a yellow rose in his buttonhole; Captain -Sellers in a sack-coat, thin and pale-faced, with his iron-gray hair -tucked behind his ears, and, but for the absence of spectacles, looking -like an ascetical mild man of books; Captain Hell, a bluff sea-dog with -hairy fingers, in blue serge and a black felt hat pushed far back off -his crimson forehead. There was also a very young shipmaster, with -a little fair moustache and serious eyes, who said nothing, and only -smiled faintly from time to time. - -Captain Johns, very much startled, raised his perplexed and credulous -glance, which, together with a low and horizontally wrinkled brow, did -not make a very intellectual _ensemble_. This impression was by no means -mended by the slightly pointed form of his bald head. - -Everybody laughed outright, and, thus guided, Captain Johns ended by -smiling rather sourly, and attempted to defend himself. It was all very -well to joke, but nowadays, when ships, to pay anything at all, had to -be driven hard on the passage and in harbour, the sea was no place for -elderly men. Only young men and men in their prime were equal to modern -conditions of push and hurry. Look at the great firms: almost every -single one of them was getting rid of men showing any signs of age. He, -for one, didn't want any oldsters on board his ship. - -And, indeed, in this opinion Captain Johns was not singular. There was -at that time a lot of seamen, with nothing against them but that they -were grizzled, wearing out the soles of their last pair of boots on the -pavements of the City in the heart-breaking search for a berth. - -Captain Johns added with a sort of ill-humoured innocence that from -holding that opinion to thinking of poisoning people was a very long -step. - -This seemed final but Captain Ashton would not let go his joke. - -“Oh, yes. I am sure you would. You said distinctly 'of no use.' What's -to be done with men who are 'of no use?' You are a kind-hearted fellow, -Johns. I am sure that if only you thought it over carefully you would -consent to have them poisoned in some painless manner.” - -Captain Sellers twitched his thin, sinuous lips. - -“Make ghosts of them,” he suggested, pointedly. - -At the mention of ghosts Captain Johns became shy, in his perplexed, -sly, and unlovely manner. - -Captain Ashton winked. - -“Yes. And then perhaps you would get a chance to have a communication -with the world of spirits. Surely the ghosts of seamen should haunt -ships. Some of them would be sure to call on an old shipmate.” - -Captain Sellers remarked drily: - -“Don't raise his hopes like this. It's cruel. He won't see anything. You -know, Johns, that nobody has ever seen a ghost.” - -At this intolerable provocation Captain Johns came out of his reserve. -With no perplexity whatever, but with a positive passion of credulity -giving momentary lustre to his dull little eyes, he brought up a lot of -authenticated instances. There were books and books full of instances. -It was merest ignorance to deny supernatural apparitions. Cases were -published every month in a special newspaper. Professor Cranks saw -ghosts daily. And Professor Cranks was no small potatoes either. One -of the biggest scientific men living. And there was that newspaper -fellow--what's his name?--who had a girl-ghost visitor. He printed in -his paper things she said to him. And to say there were no ghosts after -that! - -“Why, they have been photographed! What more proof do you want?” - -Captain Johns was indignant. Captain Bell's lips twitched, but Captain -Ashton protested now. - -“For goodness' sake don't keep him going with that. And by the by, -Johns, who's that hairy pirate you've got for your new mate? Nobody in -the Dock seems to have seen him before.” - -Captain Johns, pacified by the change of subjects, answered simply that -Willy, the tobacconist at the corner of Fenchurch Street, had sent him -along. - -Willy, his shop, and the very house in Fenchurch Street, I believe, are -gone now. In his time, wearing a careworn, absent-minded look on his -pasty face, Willy served with tobacco many southern-going ships out of -the Port of London. At certain times of the day the shop would be full -of shipmasters. They sat on casks, they lounged against the counter. - -Many a youngster found his first lift in life there; many a man got -a sorely needed berth by simply dropping in for four pennyworth of -birds'-eye at an auspicious moment. Even Willy's assistant, a redheaded, -uninterested, delicate-looking young fellow, would hand you across -the counter sometimes a bit of valuable intelligence with your box of -cigarettes, in a whisper, lips hardly moving, thus: “The _Bellona_, -South Dock. Second officer wanted. You may be in time for it if you -hurry up.” - -And didn't one just fly! - -“Oh, Willy sent him,” said Captain Ashton. “He's a very striking man. If -you were to put a red sash round his waist and a red handkerchief round -his head he would look exactly like one of them buccaneering chaps that -made men walk the plank and carried women off into captivity. Look out, -Johns, he don't cut your throat for you and run off with the _Sapphire_. -What ship has he come out of last?” - -Captain Johns, after looking up credulously as usual, wrinkled his -brow, and said placidly that the man had seen better days. His name was -Bunter. - -“He's had command of a Liverpool ship, the _Samaria_, some years ago. He -lost her in the Indian Ocean, and had his certificate suspended for a -year. Ever since then he has not been able to get another command. He's -been knocking about in the Western Ocean trade lately.” - -“That accounts for him being a stranger to everybody about the Docks,” - Captain Ashton concluded as they rose from table. - -Captain Johns walked down to the Dock after lunch. He was short -of stature and slightly bandy. His appearance did not inspire the -generality of mankind with esteem; but it must have been otherwise -with his employers. He had the reputation of being an uncomfortable -commander, meticulous in trifles, always nursing a grievance of some -sort and incessantly nagging. He was not a man to kick up a row with you -and be done with it, but to say nasty things in a whining voice; a man -capable of making one's life a perfect misery if he took a dislike to an -officer. - -That very evening I went to see Bunter on board, and sympathized with -him on his prospects for the voyage. He was subdued. I suppose a man -with a secret locked up in his breast loses his buoyancy. And there was -another reason why I could not expect Bunter to show a great -elasticity of spirits. For one thing he had been very seedy lately, and -besides--but of that later. - -Captain Johns had been on board that afternoon and had loitered and -dodged about his chief mate in a manner which had annoyed Bunter -exceedingly. - -“What could he mean?” he asked with calm exasperation. “One would think -he suspected I had stolen something and tried to see in what pocket I -had stowed it away; or that somebody told him I had a tail and he wanted -to find out how I managed to conceal it. I don't like to be approached -from behind several times in one afternoon in that creepy way and then -to be looked up at suddenly in front from under my elbow. Is it a new -sort of peep-bo game? It doesn't amuse me. I am no longer a baby.” - -I assured him that if anyone were to tell Captain Johns that -he--Bunter--had a tail, Johns would manage to get himself to believe -the story in some mysterious manner. He would. He was suspicious and -credulous to an inconceivable degree. He would believe any silly tale, -suspect any man of anything, and crawl about with it and ruminate the -stuff, and turn it over and over in his mind in the most miserable, -inwardly whining perplexity. He would take the meanest possible view in -the end, and discover the meanest possible course of action by a sort of -natural genius for that sort of thing. - -Bunter also told me that the mean creature had crept all over the ship -on his little, bandy legs, taking him along to grumble and whine -to about a lot of trifles. Crept about the decks like a wretched -insect--like a cockroach, only not so lively. - -Thus did the self-possessed Bunter express himself with great disgust. -Then, going on with his usual stately deliberation, made sinister by the -frown of his jet-black eyebrows: - -“And the fellow is mad, too. He tried to be sociable for a bit, and -could find nothing else but to make big eyes at me, and ask me if I -believed 'in communication beyond the grave.' Communication beyond--I -didn't know what he meant at first. I didn't know what to say. 'A very -solemn subject, Mr. Bunter,' says he. I've given a great deal of study -to it.” - -Had Johns lived on shore he would have been the predestined prey of -fraudulent mediums; or even if he had had any decent opportunities -between the voyages. Luckily for him, when in England, he lived -somewhere far away in Leytonstone, with a maiden sister ten years older -than himself, a fearsome virago twice his size, before whom he trembled. -It was said she bullied him terribly in general; and in the particular -instance of his spiritualistic leanings she had her own views. - -These leanings were to her simply satanic. She was reported as having -declared that, “With God's help, she would prevent that fool from -giving himself up to the Devils.” It was beyond doubt that Johns' secret -ambition was to get into personal communication with the spirits of the -dead--if only his sister would let him. But she was adamant. I was told -that while in London he had to account to her for every penny of the -money he took with him in the morning, and for every hour of his time. -And she kept the bankbook, too. - -Bunter (he had been a wild youngster, but he was well connected; -had ancestors; there was a family tomb somewhere in the home -counties)--Bunter was indignant, perhaps on account of his own dead. -Those steely-blue eyes of his flashed with positive ferocity out of that -black-bearded face. He impressed me--there was so much dark passion in -his leisurely contempt. - -“The cheek of the fellow! Enter into relations with... A mean little cad -like this! It would be an impudent intrusion. He wants to enter!... What -is it? A new sort of snobbishness or what?” - -I laughed outright at this original view of spiritism--or whatever the -ghost craze is called. Even Bunter himself condescended to smile. But it -was an austere, quickly vanished smile. A man in his almost, I may say, -tragic position couldn't be expected--you understand. He was really -worried. He was ready eventually to put up with any dirty trick in the -course of the voyage. A man could not expect much consideration should -he find himself at the mercy of a fellow like Johns. A misfortune is -a misfortune, and there's an end of it. But to be bored by mean, -low-spirited, inane ghost stories in the Johns style, all the way out -to Calcutta and back again, was an intolerable apprehension to be under. -Spiritism was indeed a solemn subject to think about in that light. -Dreadful, even! - -Poor fellow! Little we both thought that before very long he himself... -However, I could give him no comfort. I was rather appalled myself. - -Bunter had also another annoyance that day. A confounded berthing master -came on board on some pretence or other, but in reality, Bunter thought, -simply impelled by an inconvenient curiosity--inconvenient to Bunter, -that is. After some beating about the bush, that man suddenly said: - -“I can't help thinking. I've seen you before somewhere, Mr. Mate. If I -heard your name, perhaps Bunter--” - -That's the worst of a life with a mystery in it--he was much alarmed. It -was very likely that the man had seen him before--worse luck to his -excellent memory. Bunter himself could not be expected to remember every -casual dock walloper he might have had to do with. Bunter brazened it -out by turning upon the man, making use of that impressive, -black-as-night sternness of expression his unusual hair furnished -him with: - -“My name's Bunter, sir. Does that enlighten your inquisitive intellect? -And I don't ask what your name may be. I don't want to know. I've no -use for it, sir. An individual who calmly tells me to my face that he is -_not sure_ if he has seen me before, either means to be impudent or is -no better than a worm, sir. Yes, I said a worm--a blind worm!” - -Brave Bunter. That was the line to take. He fairly drove the beggar out -of the ship, as if every word had been a blow. But the pertinacity of -that brass-bound Paul Pry was astonishing. He cleared out of the ship, -of course, before Bunter's ire, not saying anything, and only trying to -cover up his retreat by a sickly smile. But once on the Jetty he turned -deliberately round, and set himself to stare in dead earnest at -the ship. He remained planted there like a mooring-post, absolutely -motionless, and with his stupid eyes winking no more than a pair of -cabin portholes. - -What could Bunter do? It was awkward for him, you know. He could not -go and put his head into the bread-locker. What he did was to take up -a position abaft the mizzen-rigging, and stare back as unwinking as -the other. So they remained, and I don't know which of them grew giddy -first; but the man on the Jetty, not having the advantage of something -to hold on to, got tired the soonest, flung his arm, giving the contest -up, as it were, and went away at last. - -Bunter told me he was glad the _Sapphire_, “that gem amongst ships” as -he alluded to her sarcastically, was going to sea next day. He had had -enough of the Dock. I understood his impatience. He had steeled himself -against any possible worry the voyage might bring, though it is clear -enough now that he was not prepared for the extraordinary experience -that was awaiting him already, and in no other part of the world than -the Indian Ocean itself; the very part of the world where the poor -fellow had lost his ship and had broken his luck, as it seemed for good -and all, at the same time. - -As to his remorse in regard to a certain secret action of his life, -well, I understand that a man of Bunter's fine character would suffer -not a little. Still, between ourselves, and without the slightest wish -to be cynical, it cannot be denied that with the noblest of us the fear -of being found out enters for some considerable part into the composition -of remorse. I didn't say this in so many words to Bunter, but, as the -poor fellow harped a bit on it, I told him that there were skeletons in -a good many honest cupboards, and that, as to his own particular guilt, -it wasn't writ large on his face for everybody to see--so he needn't -worry as to that. And besides, he would be gone to sea in about twelve -hours from now. - -He said there was some comfort in that thought, and went off then -to spend his last evening for many months with his wife. For all his -wildness, Bunter had made no mistake in his marrying. He had married a -lady. A perfect lady. She was a dear little woman, too. As to her pluck, -I, who know what times they had to go through, I cannot admire her -enough for it. Real, hard-wearing every day and day after day pluck that -only a woman is capable of when she is of the right sort--the undismayed -sort I would call it. - -The black mate felt this parting with his wife more than any of -the previous ones in all the years of bad luck. But she was of the -undismayed kind, and showed less trouble in her gentle face than the -black-haired, buccaneer-like, but dignified mate of the _Sapphire_. It -may be that her conscience was less disturbed than her husband's. Of -course, his life had no secret places for her; but a woman's conscience -is somewhat more resourceful in finding good and valid excuses. It -depends greatly on the person that needs them, too. - -They had agreed that she should not come down to the Dock to see him -off. “I wonder you care to look at me at all,” said the sensitive man. -And she did not laugh. - -Bunter was very sensitive; he left her rather brusquely at the last. -He got on board in good time, and produced the usual impression on the -mud-pilot in the broken-down straw hat who took the _Sapphire_ out of -dock. The river-man was very polite to the dignified, striking-looking -chief mate. “The five-inch manilla for the check-rope, Mr.--Bunter, -thank you--Mr. Bunter, please.” The sea-pilot who left the “gem of -ships” heading comfortably down Channel off Dover told some of his -friends that, this voyage, the _Sapphire_ had for chief mate a man -who seemed a jolly sight too good for old Johns. “Bunter's his name. -I wonder where he's sprung from? Never seen him before in any ship -I piloted in or out all these years. He's the sort of man you don't -forget. You couldn't. A thorough good sailor, too. And won't old Johns -just worry his head off! Unless the old fool should take fright at -him--for he does not seem the sort of man that would let himself be put -upon without letting you know what he thinks of you. And that's exactly -what old Johns would be more afraid of than of anything else.” - -As this is really meant to be the record of a spiritualistic experience -which came, if not precisely to Captain Johns himself, at any rate to -his ship, there is no use in recording the other events of the passage -out. It was an ordinary passage, the crew was an ordinary crew, the -weather was of the usual kind. The black mate's quiet, sedate method of -going to work had given a sober tone to the life of the ship. Even in -gales of wind everything went on quietly somehow. - -There was only one severe blow which made things fairly lively for all -hands for full four-and-twenty hours. That was off the coast of Africa, -after passing the Cape of Good Hope. At the very height of it several -heavy seas were shipped with no serious results, but there was a -considerable smashing of breakable objects in the pantry and in the -staterooms. Mr. Bunter, who was so greatly respected on board, found -himself treated scurvily by the Southern Ocean, which, bursting open the -door of his room like a ruffianly burglar, carried off several useful -things, and made all the others extremely wet. - -Later, on the same day, the Southern Ocean caused the _Sapphire_ to -lurch over in such an unrestrained fashion that the two drawers fitted -under Mr. Bunter's sleeping-berth flew out altogether, spilling all -their contents. They ought, of course, to have been locked, and Mr. -Bunter had only to thank himself for what had happened. He ought to have -turned the key on each before going out on deck. - -His consternation was very great. The steward, who was paddling about -all the time with swabs, trying to dry out the flooded cuddy, heard him -exclaim “Hallo!” in a startled and dismayed tone. In the midst of his -work the steward felt a sympathetic concern for the mate's distress. - -Captain Johns was secretly glad when he heard of the damage. He was -indeed afraid of his chief mate, as the sea-pilot had ventured to -foretell, and afraid of him for the very reason the sea-pilot had put -forward as likely. - -Captain Johns, therefore, would have liked very much to hold that -black mate of his at his mercy in some way or other. But the man was -irreproachable, as near absolute perfection as could be. And Captain -Johns was much annoyed, and at the same time congratulated himself on -his chief officer's efficiency. - -He made a great show of living sociably with him, on the principle that -the more friendly you are with a man the more easily you may catch him -tripping; and also for the reason that he wanted to have somebody who -would listen to his stories of manifestations, apparitions, ghosts, and -all the rest of the imbecile spook-lore. He had it all at his fingers' -ends; and he spun those ghostly yarns in a persistent, colourless voice, -giving them a futile turn peculiarly his own. - -“I like to converse with my officers,” he used to say. “There are -masters that hardly ever open their mouths from beginning to end of a -passage for fear of losing their dignity. What's that, after all--this -bit of position a man holds!” - -His sociability was most to be dreaded in the second dog-watch, because -he was one of those men who grow lively towards the evening, and the -officer on duty was unable then to find excuses for leaving the poop. -Captain Johns would pop up the companion suddenly, and, sidling up in -his creeping way to poor Bunter, as he walked up and down, would fire -into him some spiritualistic proposition, such as: - -“Spirits, male and female, show a good deal of refinement in a general -way, don't they?” - -To which Bunter, holding his black-whiskered head high, would mutter: - -“I don't know.” - -“Ah! that's because you don't want to. You are the most obstinate, -prejudiced man I've ever met, Mr. Bunter. I told you you may have any -book out of my bookcase. You may just go into my stateroom and help -yourself to any volume.” - -And if Bunter protested that he was too tired in his watches below to -spare any time for reading, Captain Johns would smile nastily behind -his back, and remark that of course some people needed more sleep than -others to keep themselves fit for their work. If Mr. Bunter was afraid -of not keeping properly awake when on duty at night, that was another -matter. - -“But I think you borrowed a novel to read from the second mate the other -day--a trashy pack of lies,” Captain Johns sighed. “I am afraid you are -not a spiritually minded man, Mr. Bunter. That's what's the matter.” - -Sometimes he would appear on deck in the middle of the night, looking -very grotesque and bandy-legged in his sleeping suit. At that sight the -persecuted Bunter would wring his hands stealthily, and break out into -moisture all over his forehead. After standing sleepily by the binnacle, -scratching himself in an unpleasant manner, Captain Johns was sure to -start on some aspect or other of his only topic. - -He would, for instance, discourse on the improvement of morality to be -expected from the establishment of general and close intercourse with -the spirits of the departed. The spirits, Captain Johns thought, would -consent to associate familiarly with the living if it were not for the -unbelief of the great mass of mankind. He himself would not care to -have anything to do with a crowd that would not believe in his--Captain -Johns'--existence. Then why should a spirit? This was asking too much. - -He went on breathing hard by the binnacle and trying to reach round his -shoulder-blades; then, with a thick, drowsy severity, declared: - -“Incredulity, sir, is the evil of the age!” - -It rejected the evidence of Professor Cranks and of the journalist chap. -It resisted the production of photographs. - -For Captain Johns believed firmly that certain spirits had been -photographed. He had read something of it in the papers. And the idea of -it having been done had got a tremendous hold on him, because his mind -was not critical. Bunter said afterwards that nothing could be more -weird than this little man, swathed in a sleeping suit three sizes -too large for him, shuffling with excitement in the moonlight near the -wheel, and shaking his fist at the serene sea. - -“Photographs! photographs!” he would repeat, in a voice as creaky as a -rusty hinge. - -The very helmsman just behind him got uneasy at that performance, not -being capable of understanding exactly what the “old man was kicking up -a row with the mate about.” - -Then Johns, after calming down a bit, would begin again. - -“The sensitised plate can't lie. No, sir.” - -Nothing could be more funny than this ridiculous little man's -conviction--his dogmatic tone. Bunter would go on swinging up and down -the poop like a deliberate, dignified pendulum. He said not a word. But -the poor fellow had not a trifle on his conscience, as you know; and to -have imbecile ghosts rammed down his throat like this on top of his own -worry nearly drove him crazy. He knew that on many occasions he was -on the verge of lunacy, because he could not help indulging in -half-delirious visions of Captain Johns being picked up by the scruff of -the neck and dropped over the taffrail into the ship's wake--the sort -of thing no sane sailorman would think of doing to a cat or any other -animal, anyhow. He imagined him bobbing up--a tiny black speck left far -astern on the moonlit ocean. - -I don't think that even at the worst moments Bunter really desired to -drown Captain Johns. I fancy that all his disordered imagination longed -for was merely to stop the ghostly inanity of the skipper's talk. - -But, all the same, it was a dangerous form of self-indulgence. Just -picture to yourself that ship in the Indian Ocean, on a clear, tropical -night, with her sails full and still, the watch on deck stowed away out -of sight; and on her poop, flooded with moonlight, the stately black -mate walking up and down with measured, dignified steps, preserving -an awful silence, and that grotesquely mean little figure in striped -flannelette alternately creaking and droning of “personal intercourse -beyond the grave.” - -It makes me creepy all over to think of. And sometimes the folly of -Captain Johns would appear clothed in a sort of weird utilitarianism. -How useful it would be if the spirits of the departed could be induced -to take a practical interest in the affairs of the living! What a help, -say, to the police, for instance, in the detection of crime! The number -of murders, at any rate, would be considerably reduced, he guessed -with an air of great sagacity. Then he would give way to grotesque -discouragement. - -Where was the use of trying to communicate with people that had no -faith, and more likely than not would scorn the offered information? -Spirits had their feelings. They were _all_ feelings in a way. But -he was surprised at the forbearance shown towards murderers by their -victims. That was the sort of apparition that no guilty man would dare -to pooh-pooh. And perhaps the undiscovered murderers--whether believing -or not--were haunted. They wouldn't be likely to boast about it, would -they? - -“For myself,” he pursued, in a sort of vindictive, malevolent whine, “if -anybody murdered me I would not let him forget it. I would wither him -up--I would terrify him to death.” - -The idea of his skipper's ghost terrifying anyone was so ludicrous -that the black mate, little disposed to mirth as he was, could not help -giving vent to a weary laugh. - -And this laugh, the only acknowledgment of a long and earnest discourse, -offended Captain Johns. - -“What's there to laugh at in this conceited manner, Mr. Bunter?” he -snarled. “Supernatural visitations have terrified better men than you. -Don't you allow me enough soul to make a ghost of?” - -I think it was the nasty tone that caused Bunter to stop short and turn -about. - -“I shouldn't wonder,” went on the angry fanatic of spiritism, “if you -weren't one of them people that take no more account of a man than if -he were a beast. You would be capable, I don't doubt, to deny the -possession of an immortal soul to your own father.” - -And then Bunter, being bored beyond endurance, and also exasperated by -the private worry, lost his self-possession. - -He walked up suddenly to Captain Johns, and, stooping a little to look -close into his face, said, in a low, even tone: - -“You don't know what a man like me is capable of.” - -Captain Johns threw his head back, but was too astonished to budge. -Bunter resumed his walk; and for a long time his measured footsteps and -the low wash of the water alongside were the only sounds which troubled -the silence brooding over the great waters. Then Captain Johns cleared -his throat uneasily, and, after sidling away towards the companion for -greater safety, plucked up enough courage to retreat under an act of -authority: - -“Raise the starboard clew of the mainsail, and lay the yards dead -square, Mr. Bunter. Don't you see the wind is nearly right aft?” - -Bunter at once answered “Ay, ay, sir,” though there was not the -slightest necessity to touch the yards, and the wind was well out on -the quarter. While he was executing the order Captain Johns hung on the -companion-steps, growling to himself: “Walk this poop like an admiral -and don't even notice when the yards want trimming!”--loud enough for -the helmsman to overhear. Then he sank slowly backwards out of the man's -sight; and when he reached the bottom of the stairs he stood still and -thought. - -“He's an awful ruffian, with all his gentlemanly airs. No more gentleman -mates for me.” - -Two nights afterwards he was slumbering peacefully in his berth, when a -heavy thumping just above his head (a well-understood signal that he was -wanted on deck) made him leap out of bed, broad awake in a moment. - -“What's up?” he muttered, running out barefooted. On passing through the -cabin he glanced at the clock. It was the middle watch. “What on earth -can the mate want me for?” he thought. - -Bolting out of the companion, he found a clear, dewy moonlit night and a -strong, steady breeze. He looked around wildly. There was no one on the -poop except the helmsman, who addressed him at once. - -“It was me, sir. I let go the wheel for a second to stamp over your -head. I am afraid there's something wrong with the mate.” - -“Where's he got to?” asked the captain sharply. - -The man, who was obviously nervous, said: - -“The last I saw of him was as he-fell down the port poop-ladder.” - -“Fell down the poop-ladder! What did he do that for? What made him?” - -“I don't know, sir. He was walking the port side. Then just as he turned -towards me to come aft...” - -“You saw him?” interrupted the captain. - -“I did. I was looking at him. And I heard the crash, too--something -awful. Like the mainmast going overboard. It was as if something had -struck him.” - -Captain Johns became very uneasy and alarmed. “Come,” he said sharply. -“Did anybody strike him? What did you see?” - -“Nothing, sir, so help me! There was nothing to see. He just gave -a little sort of hallo! threw his hands before him, and over he -went--crash. I couldn't hear anything more, so I just let go the wheel -for a second to call you up.” - -“You're scared!” said Captain Johns. “I am, sir, straight!” - -Captain Johns stared at him. The silence of his ship driving on her way -seemed to contain a danger--a mystery. He was reluctant to go and look -for his mate himself, in the shadows of the main-deck, so quiet, so -still. - -All he did was to advance to the break of the poop, and call for the -watch. As the sleepy men came trooping aft, he shouted to them fiercely: - -“Look at the foot of the port poop-ladder, some of you! See the mate -lying there?” - -Their startled exclamations told him immediately that they did see him. -Somebody even screeched out emotionally: “He's dead!” - -Mr. Bunter was laid in his bunk and when the lamp in his room was lit -he looked indeed as if he were dead, but it was obvious also that he was -breathing yet. The steward had been roused out, the second mate called -and sent on deck to look after the ship, and for an hour or so Captain -Johns devoted himself silently to the restoring of consciousness. Mr. -Bunter at last opened his eyes, but he could not speak. He was dazed and -inert. The steward bandaged a nasty scalp-wound while Captain Johns -held an additional light. They had to cut away a lot of Mr. Bunter's -jet-black hair to make a good dressing. This done, and after gazing for -a while at their patient, the two left the cabin. - -“A rum go, this, steward,” said Captain Johns in the passage. - -“Yessir.” - -“A sober man that's right in his head does not fall down a poop-ladder -like a sack of potatoes. The ship's as steady as a church.” - -“Yessir. Fit of some kind, I shouldn't wonder.” - -“Well, I should. He doesn't look as if he were subject to fits and -giddiness. Why, the man's in the prime of life. I wouldn't have another -kind of mate--not if I knew it. You don't think he has a private store -of liquor, do you, eh? He seemed to me a bit strange in his manner -several times lately. Off his feed, too, a bit, I noticed.” - -“Well, sir, if he ever had a bottle or two of grog in his cabin, that -must have gone a long time ago. I saw him throw some broken glass -overboard after the last gale we had; but that didn't amount to -anything. Anyway, sir, you couldn't call Mr. Bunter a drinking man.” - -“No,” conceded the captain, reflectively. And the steward, locking -the pantry door, tried to escape out of the passage, thinking he could -manage to snatch another hour of sleep before it was time for him to -turn out for the day. - -Captain Johns shook his head. - -“There's some mystery there.” - -“There's special Providence that he didn't crack his head like an -eggshell on the quarter-deck mooring-bits, sir. The men tell me he -couldn't have missed them by more than an inch.” - -And the steward vanished skilfully. - -Captain Johns spent the rest of the night and the whole of the ensuing -day between his own room and that of the mate. - -In his own room he sat with his open hands reposing on his knees, his -lips pursed up, and the horizontal furrows on his forehead marked -very heavily. Now and then raising his arm by a slow, as if cautious -movement, he scratched lightly the top of his bald head. In the mate's -room he stood for long periods of time with his hand to his lips, gazing -at the half-conscious man. - -For three days Mr. Bunter did not say a single word. He looked at people -sensibly enough but did not seem to be able to hear any questions put -to him. They cut off some more of his hair and swathed his head in -wet cloths. He took some nourishment, and was made as comfortable as -possible. At dinner on the third day the second mate remarked to the -captain, in connection with the affair: - -“These half-round brass plates on the steps of the poop-ladders are -beastly dangerous things!” - -“Are they?” retorted Captain Johns, sourly. “It takes more than a brass -plate to account for an able-bodied man crashing down in this fashion -like a felled ox.” - -The second mate was impressed by that view. There was something in that, -he thought. - -“And the weather fine, everything dry, and the ship going along as -steady as a church!” pursued Captain Johns, gruffly. - -As Captain Johns continued to look extremely sour, the second mate did -not open his lips any more during the dinner. Captain Johns was annoyed -and hurt by an innocent remark, because the fitting of the aforesaid -brass plates had been done at his suggestion only the voyage before, in -order to smarten up the appearance of the poop-ladders. - -On the fourth day Mr. Bunter looked decidedly better; very languid yet, -of course, but he heard and understood what was said to him, and even -could say a few words in a feeble voice. - -Captain Johns, coming in, contemplated him attentively, without much -visible sympathy. - -“Well, can you give us your account of this accident, Mr. Bunter?” - -Bunter moved slightly his bandaged head, and fixed his cold blue stare -on Captain Johns' face, as if taking stock and appraising the value of -every feature; the perplexed forehead, the credulous eyes, the inane -droop of the mouth. And he gazed so long that Captain Johns grew -restive, and looked over his shoulder at the door. - -“No accident,” breathed out Bunter, in a peculiar tone. - -“You don't mean to say you've got the falling sickness,” said Captain -Johns. “How would you call it signing as chief mate of a clipper ship -with a thing like that on you?” - -Bunter answered him only by a sinister look. The skipper shuffled his -feet a little. - -“Well, what made you have that tumble, then?” - -Bunter raised himself a little, and, looking straight into Captain -Johns' eyes said, in a very distinct whisper: - -“You--were--right!” - -He fell back and closed his eyes. Not a word more could Captain Johns -get out of him; and, the steward coming into the cabin, the skipper -withdrew. - -But that very night, unobserved, Captain Johns, opening the door -cautiously, entered again the mate's cabin. He could wait no longer. The -suppressed eagerness, the excitement expressed in all his mean, creeping -little person, did not escape the chief mate, who was lying awake, -looking frightfully pulled down and perfectly impassive. - -“You are coming to gloat over me, I suppose,” said Bunter without -moving, and yet making a palpable hit. - -“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Captain Johns with a start, and assuming a -sobered demeanour. “There's a thing to say!” - -“Well, gloat, then! You and your ghosts, you've managed to get over a -live man.” - -This was said by Bunter without stirring, in a low voice, and with not -much expression. - -“Do you mean to say,” inquired Captain Johns, in awe-struck whisper, -“that you had a supernatural experience that night? You saw an -apparition, then, on board my ship?” - -Reluctance, shame, disgust, would have been visible on poor Bunter's -countenance if the great part of it had not been swathed up in -cotton-wool and bandages. His ebony eyebrows, more sinister than ever -amongst all that lot of white linen, came together in a frown as he made -a mighty effort to say: - -“Yes, I have seen.” - -The wretchedness in his eyes would have awakened the compassion of -any other man than Captain Johns. But Captain Johns was all agog with -triumphant excitement. He was just a little bit frightened, too. He -looked at that unbelieving scoffer laid low, and did not even dimly -guess at his profound, humiliating distress. He was not generally -capable of taking much part in the anguish of his fellow-creatures. This -time, moreover, he was excessively anxious to know what had happened. -Fixing his credulous eyes on the bandaged head, he asked, trembling -slightly: - -“And did it--did it knock you down?” - -“Come! am I the sort of man to be knocked down by a ghost?” protested -Bunter in a little stronger tone. “Don't you remember what you said -yourself the other night? Better men than me------Ha! you'll have to -look a long time before you find a better man for a mate of your ship.” - -Captain Johns pointed a solemn finger at Bunter's bedplace. - -“You've been terrified,” he said. “That's what's the matter. You've been -terrified. Why, even the man at the wheel was scared, though he couldn't -see anything. He _felt_ the supernatural. You are punished for your -incredulity, Mr. Bunter. You were terrified.” - -“And suppose I was,” said Bunter. “Do you know what I had seen? Can you -conceive the sort of ghost that would haunt a man like me? Do you think -it was a ladyish, afternoon call, another-cup-of-tea-please apparition -that visits your Professor Cranks and that journalist chap you are -always talking about? No; I can't tell you what it was like. Every man -has his own ghosts. You couldn't conceive...” - -Bunter stopped, out of breath; and Captain Johns remarked, with the glow -of inward satisfaction reflected in his tone: - -“I've always thought you were the sort of man that was ready for -anything; from pitch-and-toss to wilful murder, as the saying goes. -Well, well! So you were terrified.” - -“I stepped back,” said Bunter, curtly. “I don't remember anything else.” - -“The man at the wheel told me you went backwards as if something had hit -you.” - -“It was a sort of inward blow,” explained Bunter. “Something too deep -for you, Captain Johns, to understand. Your life and mine haven't been -the same. Aren't you satisfied to see me converted?” - -“And you can't tell me any more?” asked Captain Johns, anxiously. - -“No, I can't. I wouldn't. It would be no use if I did. That sort of -experience must be gone through. Say I am being punished. Well, I take -my punishment, but talk of it I won't.” - -“Very well,” said Captain Johns; “you won't. But, mind, I can draw my -own conclusions from that.” - -“Draw what you like; but be careful what you say, sir. You don't terrify -me. _You_ aren't a ghost.” - -“One word. Has it any connection with what you said to me on that last -night, when we had a talk together on spiritualism?” - -Bunter looked weary and puzzled. - -“What did I say?” - -“You told me that I couldn't know what a man like you was capable of.” - -“Yes, yes. Enough!” - -“Very good. I am fixed, then,” remarked Captain Johns. “All I say is -that I am jolly glad not to be you, though I would have given almost -anything for the privilege of personal communication with the world of -spirits. Yes, sir, but not in that way.” - -Poor Bunter moaned pitifully. - -“It has made me feel twenty years older.” - -Captain Johns retired quietly. He was delighted to observe this -overbearing ruffian humbled to the dust by the moralizing agency of the -spirits. The whole occurrence was a source of pride and gratification; -and he began to feel a sort of regard for his chief mate. - -It is true that in further interviews Bunter showed himself very -mild and deferential. He seemed to cling to his captain for spiritual -protection. He used to send for him, and say, “I feel so nervous,” and -Captain Johns would stay patiently for hours in the hot little cabin, -and feel proud of the call. - -For Mr. Bunter was ill, and could not leave his berth for a good many -days. He became a convinced spiritualist, not enthusiastically--that -could hardly have been expected from him--but in a grim, unshakable way. -He could not be called exactly friendly to the disembodied inhabitants -of our globe, as Captain Johns was. But he was now a firm, if gloomy, -recruit of spiritualism. - -One afternoon, as the ship was already well to the north in the Gulf -of Bengal, the steward knocked at the door of the captain's cabin, and -said, without opening it: - -“The mate asks if you could spare him a moment, sir. He seems to be in a -state in there.” - -Captain Johns jumped up from the couch at once. - -“Yes. Tell him I am coming.” - -He thought: Could it be possible there had been another spiritual -manifestation--in the daytime, too! - -He revelled in the hope. It was not exactly that, however. Still, -Bunter, whom he saw sitting collapsed in a chair--he had been up -for several days, but not on deck as yet--poor Bunter had something -startling enough to communicate. His hands covered his face. His legs -were stretched straight out, dismally. - -“What's the news now?” croaked Captain Johns, not unkindly, because in -truth it always pleased him to see Bunter--as he expressed it--tamed. - -“News!” exclaimed the crushed sceptic through his hands. “Ay, news -enough, Captain Johns. Who will be able to deny the awfulness, the -genuineness? Another man would have dropped dead. You want to know what -I had seen. All I can tell you is that since I've seen it my hair is -turning white.” - -Bunter detached his hands from his face, and they hung on each side of -his chair as if dead. He looked broken in the dusky cabin. - -“You don't say!” stammered out Captain Johns. “Turned white! Hold on a -bit! I'll light the lamp!” - -When the lamp was lit, the startling phenomenon could be seen plainly -enough. As if the dread, the horror, the anguish of the supernatural -were being exhaled through the pores of his skin, a sort of silvery mist -seemed to cling to the cheeks and the head of the mate. His short beard, -his cropped hair, were growing, not black, but gray--almost white. - -When Mr. Bunter, thin-faced and shaky, came on deck for duty, he -was clean-shaven, and his head was white. The hands were awe-struck. -“Another man,” they whispered to each other. It was generally and -mysteriously agreed that the mate had “seen something,” with the -exception of the man at the wheel at the time, who maintained that the -mate was “struck by something.” - -This distinction hardly amounted to a difference. On the other hand, -everybody admitted that, after he picked up his strength a bit, he -seemed even smarter in his movements than before. - -One day in Calcutta, Captain Johns, pointing out to a visitor his -white-headed chief mate standing by the main-hatch, was heard to say -oracularly: - -“That man's in the prime of life.” - -Of course, while Bunter was away, I called regularly on Mrs. Bunter -every Saturday, just to see whether she had any use for my services. It -was understood I would do that. She had just his half-pay to live on--it -amounted to about a pound a week. She had taken one room in a quiet -little square in the East End. - -And this was affluence to what I had heard that the couple were reduced -to for a time after Bunter had to give up the Western Ocean trade--he -used to go as mate of all sorts of hard packets after he lost his ship -and his luck together--it was affluence to that time when Bunter would -start at seven o'clock in the morning with but a glass of hot water -and a crust of dry bread. It won't stand thinking about, especially for -those who know Mrs. Bunter. I had seen something of them, too, at that -time; and it just makes me shudder to remember what that born lady had -to put up with. Enough! - -Dear Mrs. Bunter used to worry a good deal after the _Sapphire_ left -for Calcutta. She would say to me: “It must be so awful for poor -Winston”--Winston is Bunter's name--and I tried to comfort her the best -I could. Afterwards, she got some small children to teach in a family, -and was half the day with them, and the occupation was good for her. - -In the very first letter she had from Calcutta, Bunter told her he had -had a fall down the poop-ladder, and cut his head, but no bones broken, -thank God. That was all. Of course, she had other letters from him, but -that vagabond Bunter never gave me a scratch of the pen the solid eleven -months. I supposed, naturally, that everything was going on all right. -Who could imagine what was happening? - -Then one day dear Mrs. Bunter got a letter from a legal firm in the -City, advising her that her uncle was dead--her old curmudgeon of an -uncle--a retired stockbroker, a heartless, petrified antiquity that had -lasted on and on. He was nearly ninety, I believe; and if I were to meet -his venerable ghost this minute, I would try to take him by the throat -and strangle him. - -The old beast would never forgive his niece for marrying Bunter; and -years afterwards, when people made a point of letting him know that she -was in London, pretty nearly starving at forty years of age, he only -said: “Serve the little fool right!” I believe he meant her to starve. -And, lo and behold, the old cannibal died intestate, with no other -relatives but that very identical little fool. The Bunters were wealthy -people now. - -Of course, Mrs. Bunter wept as if her heart would break. In any other -woman it would have been mere hypocrisy. Naturally, too, she wanted to -cable the news to her Winston in Calcutta, but I showed her, _Gazette_ -in hand, that the ship was on the homeward-bound list for more than a -week already. So we sat down to wait, and talked meantime of dear old -Winston every day. There were just one hundred such days before the -_Sapphire_ got reported “All well” in the chops of the Channel by an -incoming mailboat. - -“I am going to Dunkirk to meet him,” says she. The _Sapphire_ had a -cargo of jute for Dunkirk. Of course, I had to escort the dear lady -in the quality of her “ingenious friend.” She calls me “our ingenious -friend” to this day; and I've observed some people--strangers--looking -hard at me, for the signs of the ingenuity, I suppose. - -After settling Mrs. Bunter in a good hotel in Dunkirk, I walked down to -the docks--late afternoon it was--and what was my surprise to see the -ship actually fast alongside. Either Johns or Bunter, or both, must have -been driving her hard up Channel. Anyway, she had been in since the -day before last, and her crew was already paid off. I met two of -her apprenticed boys going off home on leave with their dunnage on a -Frenchman's barrow, as happy as larks, and I asked them if the mate was -on board. - -“There he is, on the quay, looking at the moorings,” says one of the -youngsters as he skipped past me. - -You may imagine the shock to my feelings when I beheld his white head. I -could only manage to tell him that his wife was at an hotel in town. -He left me at once, to go and get his hat on board. I was mightily -surprised by the smartness of his movements as he hurried up the -gangway. - -Whereas the black mate struck people as deliberate, and strangely -stately in his gait for a man in the prime of life, this white-headed -chap seemed the most wonderfully alert of old men. I don't suppose -Bunter was any quicker on his pins than before. It was the colour of the -hair that made all the difference in one's judgment. - -The same with his eyes. Those eyes, that looked at you so steely, so -fierce, and so fascinating out of a bush of a buccaneer's black hair, -now had an innocent almost boyish expression in their good-humoured -brightness under those white eyebrows. - -I led him without any delay into Mrs. Bunter's private sitting-room. -After she had dropped a tear over the late cannibal, given a hug to her -Winston, and told him that he must grow his moustache again, the dear -lady tucked her feet upon the sofa, and I got out of Bunter's way. - -He started at once to pace the room, waving his long arms. He worked -himself into a regular frenzy, and tore Johns limb from limb many times -over that evening. - -“Fell down? Of course I fell down, by slipping backwards on that fool's -patent brass plates. 'Pon my word, I had been walking that poop in -charge of the ship, and I didn't know whether I was in the Indian Ocean -or in the moon. I was crazy. My head spun round and round with sheer -worry. I had made my last application of your chemist's wonderful -stuff.” (This to me.) “All the store of bottles you gave me got smashed -when those drawers fell out in the last gale. I had been getting some -dry things to change, when I heard the cry: 'All hands on deck!' and -made one jump of it, without even pushing them in properly. Ass! When I -came back and saw the broken glass and the mess, I felt ready to faint. - -“No; look here--deception is bad; but not to be able to keep it up after -one has been forced into it. You know that since I've been squeezed -out of the Western Ocean packets by younger men, just on account of my -grizzled muzzle--you know how much chance I had to ever get a ship. And -not a soul to turn to. We have been a lonely couple, we two--she threw -away everything for me--and to see her want a piece of dry bread------” - -He banged with his fist fit to split the Frenchman's table in two. - -“I would have turned a sanguinary pirate for her, let alone cheating -my way into a berth by dyeing my hair. So when you came to me with your -chemist's wonderful stuff------” - -He checked himself. - -“By the way, that fellow's got a fortune when he likes to pick it up. It -is a wonderful stuff--you tell him salt water can do nothing to it. It -stays on as long as your hair will.” - -“All right,” I said. “Go on.” - -Thereupon he went for Johns again with a fury that frightened his wife, -and made me laugh till I cried. - -“Just you try to think what it would have meant to be at the mercy of -the meanest creature that ever commanded a ship! Just fancy what a life -that crawling Johns would have led me! And I knew that in a week or so -the white hair would begin to show. And the crew. Did you ever think of -that? To be shown up as a low fraud before all hands. What a life for me -till we got to Calcutta! And once there--kicked out, of course. Half-pay -stopped. Annie here alone without a penny--starving; and I on the other -side of the earth, ditto. You see? - -“I thought of shaving twice a day. But could I shave my head, too? -No way--no way at all. Unless I dropped Johns overboard; and even -then------ - -“Do you wonder now that with all these things boiling in my head I didn't -know where I was putting down my foot that night? I just felt myself -falling--then crash, and all dark. - -“When I came to myself that bang on the head seemed to have steadied my -wits somehow. I was so sick of everything that for two days I wouldn't -speak to anyone. They thought it was a slight concussion of the brain. -Then the idea dawned upon me as I was looking at that ghost-ridden, -wretched fool. 'Ah, you love ghosts,' I thought. 'Well, you shall have -something from beyond the grave.' - -“I didn't even trouble to invent a story. I couldn't imagine a ghost -if I wanted to. I wasn't fit to lie connectedly if I had tried. I just -bulled him on to it. Do you know, he got, quite by himself, a notion -that at some time or other I had done somebody to death in some way, and -that------” - -“Oh, the horrible man!” cried Mrs. Bunter from the sofa. There was a -silence. - -“And didn't he bore my head off on the home passage!” began Bunter again -in a weary voice. “He loved me. He was proud of me. I was converted. I -had had a manifestation. Do you know what he was after? He wanted me and -him 'to make a _seance_,' in his own words, and to try to call up that -ghost (the one that had turned my hair white--the ghost of my supposed -victim), and, as he said, talk it over with him--the ghost--in a -friendly way. - -“'Or else, Bunter,' he says, 'you may get another manifestation when you -least expect it, and tumble overboard perhaps, or something. You ain't -really safe till we pacify the spirit-world in some way.' - -“Can you conceive a lunatic like that? No--say?” - -I said nothing. But Mrs. Bunter did, in a very decided tone. - -“Winston, I don't want you to go on board that ship again any more.” - -“My dear,” says he, “I have all my things on board yet.” - -“You don't want the things. Don't go near that ship at all.” - -He stood still; then, dropping his eyes with a faint smile, said slowly, -in a dreamy voice: - -“The haunted ship.” - -“And your last,” I added. - -We carried him off, as he stood, by the night train. He was very quiet; -but crossing the Channel, as we two had a smoke on deck, he turned to me -suddenly, and, grinding his teeth, whispered: - -“He'll never know how near he was being dropped overboard!” - -He meant Captain Johns. I said nothing. - -But Captain Johns, I understand, made a great to-do about the -disappearance of his chief mate. He set the French police scouring the -country for the body. In the end, I fancy he got word from his owners' -office to drop all this fuss--that it was all right. I don't suppose he -ever understood anything of that mysterious occurrence. - -To this day he tries at times (he's retired now, and his conversation is -not very coherent)--he tries to tell the story of a black mate he once -had, “a murderous, gentlemanly ruffian, with raven-black hair which -turned white all at once in consequence of a manifestation from beyond -the grave.” An avenging apparition. What with reference to black and -white hair, to poop-ladders, and to his own feelings and views, it is -difficult to make head or tail of it. If his sister (she's very vigorous -still) should be present she cuts all this short--peremptorily: - -“Don't you mind what he says. He's got devils on the brain.” - -THE END - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - -***** This file should be named 17732.txt or 17732.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/3/17732/ - -Produced by David Widger - -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. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/17732-0.zip b/old/17732-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e8750ad..0000000 --- a/old/17732-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/17732-8.txt b/old/17732-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 380895f..0000000 --- a/old/17732-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4048 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -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: Tales Of Hearsay - -Author: Joseph Conrad - -Release Date: February 9, 2006 [EBook #17732] -Last Updated: September 9, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -TALES OF HEARSAY - -BY JOSEPH CONRAD - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1911, 1917, 1918, BY THE METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE CO. GARDEN -CITY, N. Y. - - - - -CONTENTS - -The Warriors Soul - -Prince Roman - -The Tale - -The Black Mate - - - - - -THE WARRIORS SOUL (1917) - - -The old officer with long white moustaches gave rein to his indignation. - -Is it possible that you youngsters should have no more sense than that! -Some of you had better wipe the milk off your upper lip before you start -to pass judgment on the few poor stragglers of a generation which has -done and suffered not a little in its time. - -His hearers having expressed much compunction the ancient warrior became -appeased. But he was not silenced. - -I am one of them--one of the stragglers, I mean, he went on -patiently. And what did we do? What have we achieved? He--the great -Napoleon--started upon us to emulate the Macedonian Alexander, with -a ruck of nations at his back. We opposed empty spaces to French -impetuosity, then we offered them an interminable battle so that their -army went at last to sleep in its positions lying down on the heaps of -its own dead. Then came the wall of fire in Moscow. It toppled down on -them. - -Then began the long rout of the Grand Army. I have seen it stream on, -like the doomed flight of haggard, spectral sinners across the innermost -frozen circle of Dantes Inferno, ever widening before their despairing -eyes. - -They who escaped must have had their souls doubly riveted inside their -bodies to carry them out of Russia through that frost fit to split -rocks. But to say that it was our fault that a single one of them got -away is mere ignorance. Why! Our own men suffered nearly to the limit of -their strength. Their Russian strength! - -Of course our spirit was not broken; and then our cause was good--it -was holy. But that did not temper the wind much to men and horses. - -The flesh is weak. Good or evil purpose, Humanity has to pay the price. -Why! In that very fight for that little village of which I have been -telling you we were fighting for the shelter of those old houses as much -as victory. And with the French it was the same. - -It wasnt for the sake of glory, or for the sake of strategy. The -French knew that they would have to retreat before morning and we knew -perfectly well that they would go. As far as the war was concerned there -was nothing to fight about. Yet our infantry and theirs fought like wild -cats, or like heroes if you like that better, amongst the houses--hot -work enough---while the supports out in the open stood freezing in -a tempestuous north wind which drove the snow on earth and the great -masses of clouds in the sky at a terrific pace. The very air was -inexpressibly sombre by contrast with the white earth. I have never seen -Gods creation look more sinister than on that day. - -We, the cavalry (we were only a handful), had not much to do except -turn our backs to the wind and receive some stray French round shot. -This, I may tell you, was the last of the French guns and it was the -last time they had their artillery in position. Those guns never went -away from there either. We found them abandoned next morning. But that -afternoon they were keeping up an infernal fire on our attacking column; -the furious wind carried away the smoke and even the noise but we could -see the constant flicker of the tongues of fire along the French front. -Then a driving flurry of snow would hide everything except the dark red -flashes in the white swirl. - -At intervals when the line cleared we could see away across the plain -to the right a sombre column moving endlessly; the great rout of the -Grand Army creeping on and on all the time while the fight on our left -went on with a great din and fury. The cruel whirlwind of snow swept -over that scene of death and desolation. And then the wind fell as -suddenly as it had arisen in the morning. - -Presently we got orders to charge the retreating column; I dont know -why unless they wanted to prevent us from getting frozen in our saddles -by giving us something to do. We changed front half right and got into -motion at a walk to take that distant dark line in flank. It might have -been half-past two in the afternoon. - -You must know that so far in this campaign my regiment had never been -on the main line of Napoleons advance. All these months since the -invasion the army we belonged to had been wrestling with Oudinot in -the north. We had only come down lately, driving him before us to the -Beresina. - -This was the first occasion, then, that I and my comrades had a close -view of Napoleons Grand Army. It was an amazing and terrible sight. I -had heard of it from others; I had seen the stragglers from it: small -bands of marauders, parties of prisoners in the distance. But this was -the very column itself! A crawling, stumbling, starved, half-demented -mob. It issued from the forest a mile away and its head was lost in the -murk of the fields. We rode into it at a trot, which was the most we -could get out of our horses, and we stuck in that human mass as if in a -moving bog. There was no resistance. I heard a few shots, half a dozen -perhaps. Their very senses seemed frozen within them. I had time for a -good look while riding at the head of my squadron. Well, I assure you, -there were men walking on the outer edge so lost to everything but -their misery that they never turned their heads to look at our charge. -Soldiers! - -My horse pushed over one of them with his chest. The poor wretch had a -dragoons blue cloak, all torn and scorched, hanging from his shoulders -and he didnt even put his hand out to snatch at my bridle and save -himself. He just went down. Our troopers were pointing and slashing; -well, and of course at first I myself... What would you have! An enemys -an enemy. Yet a sort of sickening awe crept into my heart. There was no -tumult--only a low deep murmur dwelt over them interspersed with louder -cries and groans while that mob kept on pushing and surging past us, -sightless and without feeling. A smell of scorched rags and festering -wounds hung in the air. My horse staggered in the eddies of swaying -men. But it was like cutting down galvanized corpses that didnt care. -Invaders! Yes... God was already dealing with them. - -I touched my horse with the spurs to get clear. There was a sudden rush -and a sort of angry moan when our second squadron got into them on our -right. My horse plunged and somebody got hold of my leg. As I had no -mind to get pulled out of the saddle I gave a back-handed slash without -looking. I heard a cry and my leg was let go suddenly. - -Just then I caught sight of the subaltern of my troop at some little -distance from me. His name was Tomassov. That multitude of resurrected -bodies with glassy eyes was seething round his horse as if blind, -growling crazily. He was sitting erect in his saddle, not looking down -at them and sheathing his sword deliberately. - -This Tomassov, well, he had a beard. Of course we all had beards then. -Circumstances, lack of leisure, want of razors, too. No, seriously, we -were a wild-looking lot in those unforgotten days which so many, so very -many of us did not survive. You know our losses were awful, too. Yes, we -looked wild. _Des Russes sauvages_--what! - -So he had a beard--this Tomassov I mean; but he did not look _sauvage_. -He was the youngest of us all. And that meant real youth. At a distance -he passed muster fairly well, what with the grime and the particular -stamp of that campaign on our faces. But directly you were near enough -to have a good look into his eyes, that was where his lack of age -showed, though he was not exactly a boy. - -Those same eyes were blue, something like the blue of autumn skies, -dreamy and gay, too--innocent, believing eyes. A topknot of fair hair -decorated his brow like a gold diadem in what one would call normal -times. - -You may think I am talking of him as if he were the hero of a novel. -Why, thats nothing to what the adjutant discovered about him. He -discovered that he had a lovers lips--whatever that may be. If the -adjutant meant a nice mouth, why, it was nice enough, but of course it -was intended for a sneer. That adjutant of ours was not a very delicate -fellow. Look at those lovers lips, he would exclaim in a loud tone -while Tomassov was talking. - -Tomassov didnt quite like that sort of thing. But to a certain extent -he had laid himself open to banter by the lasting character of his -impressions which were connected with the passion of love and, perhaps, -were not of such a rare kind as he seemed to think them. What made -his comrades tolerant of his rhapsodies was the fact that they were -connected with France, with Paris! - -You of the present generation, you cannot conceive how much prestige -there was then in those names for the whole world. Paris was the centre -of wonder for all human beings gifted with imagination. There we were, -the majority of us young and well connected, but not long out of our -hereditary nests in the provinces; simple servants of God; mere rustics, -if I may say so. So we were only too ready to listen to the tales of -France from our comrade Tomassov. He had been attached to our mission -in Paris the year before the war. High protections very likely--or maybe -sheer luck. - -I dont think he could have been a very useful member of the mission -because of his youth and complete inexperience. And apparently all his -time in Paris was his own. The use he made of it was to fall in love, to -remain in that state, to cultivate it, to exist only for it in a manner -of speaking. - -Thus it was something more than a mere memory that he had brought with -him from France. Memory is a fugitive thing. It can be falsified, it -can be effaced, it can be even doubted. Why! I myself come to doubt -sometimes that I, too, have been in Paris in my turn. And the long road -there with battles for its stages would appear still more incredible if -it were not for a certain musket ball which I have been carrying about -my person ever since a little cavalry affair which happened in Silesia -at the very beginning of the Leipsic campaign. - -Passages of love, however, are more impressive perhaps than passages -of danger. You dont go affronting love in troops as it were. They are -rarer, more personal and more intimate. And remember that with Tomassov -all that was very fresh yet. He had not been home from France three -months when the war began. - -His heart, his mind were full of that experience. He was really awed -by it, and he was simple enough to let it appear in his speeches. He -considered himself a sort of privileged person, not because a woman had -looked at him with favour, but simply because, how shall I say it, he -had had the wonderful illumination of his worship for her, as if it were -heaven itself that had done this for him. - -Oh yes, he was very simple. A nice youngster, yet no fool; and with -that, utterly inexperienced, unsuspicious, and unthinking. You will find -one like that here and there in the provinces. He had some poetry in him -too. It could only be natural, something quite his own, not acquired. I -suppose Father Adam had some poetry in him of that natural sort. For the -rest _un Russe sauvage_ as the French sometimes call us, but not of that -kind which, they maintain, eats tallow candle for a delicacy. As to the -woman, the French woman, well, though I have also been in France with -a hundred thousand Russians, I have never seen her. Very likely she was -not in Paris then. And in any case hers were not the doors that would -fly open before simple fellows of my sort, you understand. Gilded salons -were never in my way. I could not tell you how she looked, which is -strange considering that I was, if I may say so, Tomassovs special -confidant. - -He very soon got shy of talking before the others. I suppose the usual -camp-fire comments jarred his fine feelings. But I was left to him -and truly I had to submit. You cant very well expect a youngster in -Tomassovs state to hold his tongue altogether; and I--I suppose you -will hardly believe me--I am by nature a rather silent sort of person. - -Very likely my silence appeared to him sympathetic. All the month of -September our regiment, quartered in villages, had come in for an easy -time. It was then that I heard most of that--you cant call it a story. -The story I have in my mind is not in that. Outpourings, let us call -them. - -I would sit quite content to hold my peace, a whole hour perhaps, while -Tomassov talked with exaltation. And when he was done I would still hold -my peace. And then there would be produced a solemn effect of silence -which, I imagine, pleased Tomassov in a way. - -She was of course not a woman in her first youth. A widow, maybe. At -any rate I never heard Tomassov mention her husband. She had a salon, -something very distinguished; a social centre in which she queened it -with great splendour. - -Somehow, I fancy her court was composed mostly of men. But Tomassov, I -must say, kept such details out of his discourses wonderfully well. Upon -my word I dont know whether her hair was dark or fair, her eyes brown -or blue; what was her stature, her features, or her complexion. His love -soared above mere physical impressions. He never described her to me in -set terms; but he was ready to swear that in her presence everybodys -thoughts and feelings were bound to circle round her. She was that sort -of woman. Most wonderful conversations on all sorts of subjects went -on in her salon: but through them all there flowed unheard like a -mysterious strain of music the assertion, the power, the tyranny of -sheer beauty. So apparently the woman was beautiful. She detached all -these talking people from their life interests, and even from their -vanities. She was a secret delight and a secret trouble. All the men -when they looked at her fell to brooding as if struck by the thought -that their lives had been wasted. She was the very joy and shudder of -felicity and she brought only sadness and torment to the hearts of men. - -In short, she must have been an extraordinary woman, or else Tomassov -was an extraordinary young fellow to feel in that way and to talk like -this about her. I told you the fellow had a lot of poetry in him and -observed that all this sounded true enough. It would be just about the -sorcery a woman very much out of the common would exercise, you know. -Poets do get close to truth somehow--there is no denying that. - -There is no poetry in my composition, I know, but I have my share of -common shrewdness, and I have no doubt that the lady was kind to the -youngster, once he did find his way inside her salon. His getting in -is the real marvel. However, he did get in, the innocent, and he found -himself in distinguished company there, amongst men of considerable -position. And you know, what that means: thick waists, bald heads, teeth -that are not--as some satirist puts it. Imagine amongst them a nice -boy, fresh and simple, like an apple just off the tree; a modest, -good-looking, impressionable, adoring young barbarian. My word! What a -change! What a relief for jaded feelings! And with that, having, in his -nature that, dose; of poetry which saves even a simpleton from being a -fool. - -He became an artlessly, unconditionally devoted slave. He was rewarded -by being smiled on and in time admitted to the intimacy of the house. -It may be that the unsophisticated young barbarian amused the exquisite -lady. Perhaps--since he didnt feed on tallow candles--he satisfied -some need of tenderness in the woman. You know, there are many kinds of -tenderness highly civilized women are capable of. Women with heads and -imagination, I mean, and no temperament to speak of, you understand. But -who is going to fathom their needs or their fancies? Most of the time -they themselves dont know much about their innermost moods, and blunder -out of one into another, sometimes with catastrophic results. And then -who is more surprised than they? However, Tomassovs case was in its -nature quite idyllic. The fashionable world was amused. His devotion -made for him a kind of social success. But he didnt care. There was his -one divinity, and there was the shrine where he was permitted to go in -and out without regard for official reception hours. - -He took advantage of that privilege freely. Well, he had no official -duties, you know. The Military Mission was supposed to be more -complimentary than anything else, the head of it being a personal -friend of our Emperor Alexander; and he, too, was laying himself out for -successes in fashionable life exclusively--as it seemed. As it seemed. - -One afternoon Tomassov called on the mistress of his thoughts earlier -than usual. She was not alone. There was a man with her, not one of the -thick-waisted, bald-headed personages, but a somebody all the same, -a man over thirty, a French officer who to some extent was also a -privileged intimate. Tomassov was not jealous of him. Such a sentiment -would have appeared presumptuous to the simple fellow. - -On the contrary he admired that officer. You have no idea of the French -military mens prestige in those days, even with us Russian soldiers -who had managed to face them perhaps better than the rest. Victory had -marked them on the forehead--it seemed for ever. They would have been -more than human if they had not been conscious of it; but they were good -comrades and had a sort of brotherly feeling for all who bore arms, even -if it was against them. - -And this was quite a superior example, an officer of the -major-generals staff, and a man of the best society besides. He was -powerfully built, and thoroughly masculine, though he was as carefully -groomed as a woman. He had the courteous self-possession of a man of the -world. His forehead, white as alabaster, contrasted impressively with -the healthy colour of his face. - -I dont know whether he was jealous of Tomassov, but I suspect that -he might have been a little annoyed at him as at a sort of walking -absurdity of the sentimental order. But these men of the world are -impenetrable, and outwardly he condescended to recognize Tomassovs -existence even more distinctly than was strictly necessary. Once or -twice he had offered him some useful worldly advice with perfect tact -and delicacy. Tomassov was completely conquered by that evidence of -kindness under the cold polish of the best society. - -Tomassov, introduced into the _petit salon_, found these two exquisite -people sitting on a sofa together and had the feeling of having -interrupted some special conversation. They looked at him strangely, he -thought; but he was not given to understand that he had intruded. After -a time the lady said to the officer--his name was De Castel--I wish you -would take the trouble to ascertain the exact truth as to that rumour. - -Its much more than a mere rumour, remarked the officer. But he got -up submissively and went out. The lady turned to Tomassov and said: You -may stay with me. - -This express command made him supremely happy, though as a matter of -fact he had had no idea of going. - -She regarded him with her kindly glances, which made something glow and -expand within his chest. It was a delicious feeling, even though it did -cut ones breath short now and then. Ecstatically he drank in the sound -of her tranquil, seductive talk full of innocent gaiety and of spiritual -quietude. His passion appeared to him to flame up and envelop her in -blue fiery tongues from head to foot and over her head, while her soul -reposed in the centre like a big white rose.... - -Hm, good this. He told me many other things like that. But this is the -one I remember. He himself remembered everything because these were the -last memories of that woman. He was seeing her for the last time though -he did not know it then. - -M. De Castel returned, breaking into that atmosphere of enchantment -Tomassov had been drinking in even to complete unconsciousness of the -external world. Tomassov could not help being struck by the distinction -of his movements, the ease of his manner, his superiority to all the -other men he knew, and he suffered from it. It occurred to him that -these two brilliant beings on the sofa were made for each other. - -De Castel sitting down by the side of the lady murmured to her -discreetly, There is not the slightest doubt that its true, and -they both turned their eyes to Tomassov. Roused thoroughly from his -enchantment he became self-conscious; a feeling of shyness came over -him. He sat smiling faintly at them. - -The lady without taking her eyes off the blushing Tomassov said with a -dreamy gravity quite unusual to her: - -I should like to know that your generosity can be supreme--without a -flaw. Love at its highest should be the origin of every perfection. - -Tomassov opened his eyes wide with admiration at this, as though her -lips had been dropping real pearls. The sentiment, however, was -not uttered for the primitive Russian youth but for the exquisitely -accomplished man of the world, De Castel. - -Tomassov could not see the effect it produced because the French -officer lowered his head and sat there contemplating his admirably -polished boots. The lady whispered in a sympathetic tone: - -You have scruples? - -De Castel, without looking up, murmured: It could be turned into a -nice point of honour. - -She said vivaciously: That surely is artificial. I am all for natural -feelings. I believe in nothing else. But perhaps your conscience... - -He interrupted her: Not at all. My conscience is not childish. The -fate of those people is of no military importance to us. What can it -matter? The fortune of France is invincible. - -Well then... she uttered, meaningly, and rose from the couch. The -French officer stood up, too. Tomassov hastened to follow their example. -He was pained by his state of utter mental darkness. While he was -raising the ladys white hand to his lips he heard the French officer -say with marked emphasis: - -If he has the soul of a warrior (at that time, you know, people really -talked in that way), if he has the soul of a warrior he ought to fall at -your feet in gratitude. - -Tomassov felt himself plunged into even denser darkness than before. He -followed the French officer out of the room and out of the house; for he -had a notion that this was expected of him. - -It was getting dusk, the weather was very bad, and the street was quite -deserted. The Frenchman lingered in it strangely. And Tomassov lingered, -too, without impatience. He was never in a hurry to get away from the -house in which she lived. And besides, something wonderful had happened -to him. The hand he had reverently raised by the tips of its fingers had -been pressed against his lips. He had received a secret favour! He was -almost frightened. The world had reeled--and it had hardly steadied -itself yet. De Castel stopped short at the corner of the quiet street. - -I dont care to be seen too much with you in the lighted -thoroughfares, M. Tomassov, he said in a strangely grim tone. - -Why? asked the young man, too startled to be offended. - -From prudence, answered the other curtly. So we will have to part -here; but before we part Ill disclose to you something of which you -will see at once the importance. - -This, please note, was an evening in late March of the year 1812. For -a long time already there had been talk of a growing coolness between -Russia and France. The word war was being whispered in drawing rooms -louder and louder, and at last was heard in official circles. Thereupon -the Parisian police discovered that our military envoy had corrupted -some clerks at the Ministry of War and had obtained from them some very -important confidential documents. The wretched men (there were two -of them) had confessed their crime and were to be shot that night. -To-morrow all the town would be talking of the affair. But the worst was -that the Emperor Napoleon was furiously angry at the discovery, and had -made up his mind to have the Russian envoy arrested. - -Such was De Castels disclosure; and though he had spoken in low tones -Tomassov was stunned as by a great crash. - -Arrested, he murmured, desolately. - -Yes, and kept as a state prisoner--with everybody belonging to -him.... - -The French officer seized Tomassovs arm above the elbow and pressed it -hard. - -And kept in France, he repeated into Tomassovs very ear, and then -letting him go stepped back a space and remained silent. - -And its you, you, who are telling me this! cried Tomassov in an -extremity of gratitude that was hardly greater than his admiration for -the generosity of his future foe. Could a brother have done for him -more! He sought to seize the hand of the French officer, but the latter -remained wrapped up closely in his cloak. Possibly in the dark he had -not noticed the attempt. He moved back a bit and in his self-possessed -voice of a man of the world, as though he were speaking across a card -table or something of the sort, he called Tomassovs attention to -the fact that if he meant to make use of the warning the moments were -precious. - -Indeed they are, agreed the awed Tomassov. Good-bye then. I have -no word of thanks to equal your generosity; but if ever I have an -opportunity, I swear it, you may command my life.... - -But the Frenchman retreated, had already vanished in the dark lonely -street. Tomassov was alone, and then he did not waste any of the -precious minutes of that night. - -See how peoples mere gossip and idle talk pass into history. In all -the memoirs of the time if you read them you will find it stated that -our envoy had a warning from some highly placed woman who was in love -with him. Of course its known that he had successes with women, and in -the highest spheres, too, but the truth is that the person who warned -him was no other than our simple Tomassov--an altogether different sort -of lover from himself. - -This then is the secret of our Emperors representatives escape -from arrest. He and all his official household got out of France all -right--as history records. - -And amongst that household there was our Tomassov of course. He had, -in the words of the French officer, the soul of a warrior. And what more -desolate prospect for a man with such a soul than to be imprisoned -on the eve of war; to be cut off from his country in danger, from his -military family, from his duty, from honour, and--well--from glory, too. - -Tomassov used to shudder at the mere thought of the moral torture he -had escaped; and he nursed in his heart a boundless gratitude to the two -people who had saved him from that cruel ordeal. They were wonderful! -For him love and friendship were but two aspects of exalted perfection. -He had found these fine examples of it and he vowed them indeed a sort -of cult. It affected his attitude towards Frenchmen in general, great -patriot as he was. He was naturally indignant at the invasion of his -country, but this indignation had no personal animosity in it. His was -fundamentally a fine nature. He grieved at the appalling amount of human -suffering he saw around him. Yes, he was full of compassion for all -forms of mankinds misery in a manly way. - -Less fine natures than his own did not understand this very well. In -the regiment they had nicknamed him the Humane Tomassov. - -He didnt take offence at it. There is nothing incompatible between -humanity and a warriors soul. People without compassion are the -civilians, government officials, merchants and such like. As to the -ferocious talk one hears from a lot of decent people in war time--well, -the tongue is an unruly member at best and when there is some excitement -going on there is no curbing its furious activity. - -So I had not been very surprised to see our Tomassov sheathe -deliberately his sword right in the middle of that charge, you may say. -As we rode away after it he was very silent. He was not a chatterer as -a rule, but it was evident that this close view of the Grand Army had -affected him deeply, like some sight not of this earth. I had always -been a pretty tough individual myself--well, even I... and there was -that fellow with a lot of poetry in his nature! You may imagine what he -made of it to himself. We rode side by side without opening our lips. It -was simply beyond words. - -We established our bivouac along the edge of the forest so as to get -some shelter for our horses. However, the boisterous north wind had -dropped as quickly as it had sprung up, and the great winter stillness -lay on the land from the Baltic to the Black Sea. One could almost feel -its cold, lifeless immensity reaching up to the stars. - -Our men had lighted several fires for their officers and had cleared -the snow around them. We had big logs of wood for seats; it was a -very tolerable bivouac upon the whole, even without the exultation of -victory. We were to feel that later, but at present we were oppressed by -our stern and arduous task. - -There were three of us round my fire. The third one was that adjutant. -He was perhaps a well-meaning chap but not so nice as he might have been -had he been less rough in manner and less crude in his perceptions. He -would reason about peoples conduct as though a man were as simple a -figure as, say, two sticks laid across each other; whereas a man is much -more like the sea whose movements are too complicated to explain, and -whose depths may bring up God only knows what at any moment. - -We talked a little about that charge. Not much. That sort of thing does -not lend itself to conversation. Tomassov muttered a few words about a -mere butchery. I had nothing to say. As I told you I had very soon let -my sword hang idle at my wrist. That starving mob had not even _tried_ -to defend itself. Just a few shots. We had two men wounded. Two!... and -we had charged the main column of Napoleons Grand Army. - -Tomassov muttered wearily: What was the good of it? I did not wish -to argue, so I only just mumbled: Ah, well! But the adjutant struck in -unpleasantly: - -Why, it warmed the men a bit. It has made me warm. Thats a good -enough reason. But our Tomassov is so humane! And besides he has been in -love with a French woman, and thick as thieves with a lot of Frenchmen, -so he is sorry for them. Never mind, my boy, we are on the Paris road -now and you shall soon see her! This was one of his usual, as we -believed them, foolish speeches. None of us but believed that the -getting to Paris would be a matter of years--of years. And lo! less than -eighteen months afterwards I was rooked of a lot of money in a gambling -hell in the Palais Royal. - -Truth, being often the most senseless thing in the world, is sometimes -revealed to fools. I dont think that adjutant of ours believed in his -own words. He just wanted to tease Tomassov from habit. Purely from -habit. We of course said nothing, and so he took his head in his hands -and fell into a doze as he sat on a log in front of the fire. - -Our cavalry was on the extreme right wing of the army, and I must -confess that we guarded it very badly. We had lost all sense of -insecurity by this time; but still we did keep up a pretence of doing -it in a way. Presently a trooper rode up leading a horse and Tomassov -mounted stiffly and went off on a round of the outposts. Of the -perfectly useless outposts. - -The night was still, except for the crackling of the fires. The raging -wind had lifted far above the earth and not the faintest breath of it -could be heard. Only the full moon swam out with a rush into the sky and -suddenly hung high and motionless overhead. I remember raising my hairy -face to it for a moment. Then, I verily believe, I dozed off, too, bent -double on my log with my head towards the fierce blaze. - -You know what an impermanent thing such slumber is. One moment you -drop into an abyss and the next you are back in the world that you would -think too deep for any noise but the trumpet of the Last Judgment. -And then off you go again. Your very soul seems to slip down into a -bottomless black pit. Then up once more into a startled consciousness. A -mere plaything of cruel sleep one is, then. Tormented both ways. - -However, when my orderly appeared before me, repeating: Wont your -Honour be pleased to eat?... Wont your Honour be pleased to eat?... I -managed to keep my hold of it--I mean that gaping consciousness. He was -offering me a sooty pot containing some grain boiled in water with a -pinch of salt. A wooden spoon was stuck in it. - -At that time these were the only rations we were getting regularly. -Mere chicken food, confound it! But the Russian soldier is wonderful. -Well, my fellow waited till I had feasted and then went away carrying -off the empty pot. - -I was no longer sleepy. Indeed, I had become awake with an exaggerated -mental consciousness of existence extending beyond my immediate -surroundings. Those are but exceptional moments with mankind, I am glad -to say. I had the intimate sensation of the earth in all its enormous -expanse wrapped in snow, with nothing showing on it but trees with their -straight stalk-like trunks and their funeral verdure; and in this aspect -of general mourning I seemed to hear the sighs of mankind falling to die -in the midst of a nature without life. They were Frenchmen. We didnt -hate them; they did not hate us; we had existed far apart--and suddenly -they had come rolling in with arms in their hands, without fear of God, -carrying with them other nations, and all to perish together in a long, -long trail of frozen corpses. I had an actual vision of that trail: -a pathetic multitude of small dark mounds stretching away under the -moonlight in a clear, still, and pitiless atmosphere--a sort of horrible -peace. - -But what other peace could there be for them? What else did they -deserve? I dont know by what connection of emotions there came into my -head the thought that the earth was a pagan planet and not a fit abode -for Christian virtues. - -You may be surprised that I should remember all this so well. What is -a passing emotion or half-formed thought to last in so many years of a -mans changing, inconsequential life? But what has fixed the emotion -of that evening in my recollection so that the slightest shadows remain -indelible was an event of strange finality, an event not likely to be -forgotten in a life-time--as you shall see. - -I dont suppose I had been entertaining those thoughts more than five -minutes when something induced me to look over my shoulder. I cant -think it was a noise; the snow deadened all the sounds. Something it -must have been, some sort of signal reaching my consciousness. Anyway, I -turned my head, and there was the event approaching me, not that I knew -it or had the slightest premonition. All I saw in the distance were two -figures approaching in the moonlight. One of them was our Tomassov. The -dark mass behind him which moved across my sight were the horses which -his orderly was leading away. Tomassov was a very familiar appearance, -in long boots, a tall figure ending in a pointed hood. But by his side -advanced another figure. I mistrusted my eyes at first. It was amazing! -It had a shining crested helmet on its head and was muffled up in a -white cloak. The cloak was not as white as snow. Nothing in the world -is. It was white more like mist, with an aspect that was ghostly and -martial to an extraordinary degree. It was as if Tomassov had got hold -of the God of War himself. I could see at once that he was leading this -resplendent vision by the arm. Then I saw that he was holding it -up. While I stared and stared, they crept on--for indeed they were -creeping--and at last they crept into the light of our bivouac fire and -passed beyond the log I was sitting on. The blaze played on the helmet. -It was extremely battered and the frost-bitten face, full of sores, -under it was framed in bits of mangy fur. No God of War this, but a -French officer. The great white cuirassiers cloak was torn, burnt full -of holes. His feet were wrapped up in old sheepskins over remnants -of boots. They looked monstrous and he tottered on them, sustained by -Tomassov who lowered him most carefully on to the log on which I sat. - -My amazement knew no bounds. - -You have brought in a prisoner, I said to Tomassov, as if I could not -believe my eyes. - -You must understand that unless they surrendered in large bodies we -made no prisoners. What would have been the good? Our Cossacks either -killed the stragglers or else let them alone, just as it happened. It -came really to the same thing in the end. - -Tomassov turned to me with a very troubled look. - -He sprang up from the ground somewhere as I was leaving the outpost, -he said. I believe he was making for it, for he walked blindly into my -horse. He got hold of my leg and of course none of our chaps dared touch -him then. - -He had a narrow escape, I said. - -He didnt appreciate it, said Tomassov, looking even more troubled -than before. He came along holding to my stirrup leather. Thats what -made me so late. He told me he was a staff officer; and then talking in -a voice such, I suppose, as the damned alone use, a croaking of rage -and pain, he said he had a favour to beg of me. A supreme favour. Did I -understand him, he asked in a sort of fiendish whisper. - -Of course I told him that I did. I said: _oui, je vous comprends_. - -Then, said he, do it. Now! At once--in the pity of your heart. - -Tomassov ceased and stared queerly at me above the head of the -prisoner. - -I said, What did he mean? - -Thats what I asked him, answered Tomassov in a dazed tone, and he -said that he wanted me to do him the favour to blow his brains out. As a -fellow soldier he said. As a man of feeling--as--as a humane man. - -The prisoner sat between us like an awful gashed mummy as to the face, -a martial scarecrow, a grotesque horror of rags and dirt, with awful -living eyes, full of vitality, full of unquenchable fire, in a body -of horrible affliction, a skeleton at the feast of glory. And suddenly -those shining unextinguishable eyes of his became fixed upon Tomassov. -He, poor fellow, fascinated, returned the ghastly stare of a suffering -soul in that mere husk of a man. The prisoner croaked at him in French. - -I recognize, you know. You are her Russian youngster. You were -very grateful. I call on you to pay the debt. Pay it, I say, with one -liberating shot. You are a man of honour. I have not even a broken -sabre. All my being recoils from my own degradation. You know me. - -Tomassov said nothing. - -Havent you got the soul of a warrior? the Frenchman asked in an -angry whisper, but with something of a mocking intention in it. - -I dont know, said poor Tomassov. - -What a look of contempt that scarecrow gave him out of his unquenchable -eyes. He seemed to live only by the force of infuriated and impotent -despair. Suddenly he gave a gasp and fell forward writhing in the -agony of cramp in all his limbs; a not unusual effect of the heat of a -camp-fire. It resembled the application of some horrible torture. But -he tried to fight against the pain at first. He only moaned low while we -bent over him so as to prevent him rolling into the fire, and muttered -feverishly at intervals: _Tuez moi, tuez moi_... till, vanquished by -the pain, he screamed in agony, time after time, each cry bursting out -through his compressed lips. - -The adjutant woke up on the other side of the fire and started swearing -awfully at the beastly row that Frenchman was making. - -Whats this? More of your infernal humanity, Tomassov, he yelled -at us. Why dont you have him thrown out of this to the devil on the -snow? - -As we paid no attention to his shouts, he got up, cursing shockingly, -and went away to another fire. Presently the French officer became -easier. We propped him up against the log and sat silent on each side -of him till the bugles started their call at the first break of day. The -big flame, kept up all through the night, paled on the livid sheet -of snow, while the frozen air all round rang with the brazen notes of -cavalry trumpets. The Frenchmans eyes, fixed in a glassy stare, which -for a moment made us hope that he had died quietly sitting there between -us two, stirred slowly to right and left, looking at each of our faces -in turn. Tomassov and I exchanged glances of dismay. Then De Castels -voice, unexpected in its renewed strength and ghastly self-possession, -made us shudder inwardly. - -_Bonjour, Messieurs_. - -His chin dropped on his breast. Tomassov addressed me in Russian. - -It is he, the man himself... I nodded and Tomassov went on in a tone -of anguish: Yes, he! Brilliant, accomplished, envied by men, loved by -that woman--this horror--this miserable thing that cannot die. Look at -his eyes. Its terrible. - -I did not look, but I understood what Tomassov meant. We could do -nothing for him. This avenging winter of fate held both the fugitives -and the pursuers in its iron grip. Compassion was but a vain word before -that unrelenting destiny. I tried to say something about a convoy being -no doubt collected in the village--but I faltered at the mute glance -Tomassov gave me. We knew what those convoys were like: appalling mobs -of hopeless wretches driven on by the butts of Cossacks lances, back to -the frozen inferno, with their faces set away from their homes. - -Our two squadrons had been formed along the edge of the forest. The -minutes of anguish were passing. The Frenchman suddenly struggled to his -feet. We helped him almost without knowing what we were doing. - -Come, he said, in measured tones. This is the moment. He paused -for a long time, then with the same distinctness went on: On my word of -honour, all faith is dead in me. - -His voice lost suddenly its self-possession. After waiting a little -while he added in a murmur: And even my courage.... Upon my honour. - -Another long pause ensued before, with a great effort, he whispered -hoarsely: Isnt this enough to move a heart of stone? Am I to go on my -knees to you? - -Again a deep silence fell upon the three of us. Then the French officer -flung his last word of anger at Tomassov. - -Milksop! - -Not a feature of the poor fellow moved. I made up my mind to go and -fetch a couple of our troopers to lead that miserable prisoner away to -the village. There was nothing else for it. I had not moved six paces -towards the group of horses and orderlies in front of our squadron -when... but you have guessed it. Of course. And I, too, I guessed it, -for I give you my word that the report of Tomassovs pistol was the most -insignificant thing imaginable. The snow certainly does absorb sound. It -was a mere feeble pop. Of the orderlies holding our horses I dont think -one turned his head round. - -Yes. Tomassov had done it. Destiny had led that De Castel to the man -who could understand him perfectly. But it was poor Tomassovs lot to be -the predestined victim. You know what the worlds justice and mankinds -judgment are like. They fell heavily on him with a sort of inverted -hypocrisy. Why! That brute of an adjutant, himself, was the first to set -going horrified allusions to the shooting of a prisoner in cold blood! -Tomassov was not dismissed from the service of course. But after the -siege of Dantzig he asked for permission to resign from the army, and -went away to bury himself in the depths of his province, where a vague -story of some dark deed clung to him for years. - -Yes. He had done it. And what was it? One warriors soul paying its -debt a hundredfold to another warriors soul by releasing it from a fate -worse than death--the loss of all faith and courage. You may look on -it in that way. I dont know. And perhaps poor Tomassov did not know -himself. But I was the first to approach that appalling dark group on -the snow: the Frenchman extended rigidly on his back, Tomassov kneeling -on one knee rather nearer to the feet than to the Frenchmans head. He -had taken his cap off and his hair shone like gold in the light drift -of flakes that had begun to fall. He was stooping over the dead in a -tenderly contemplative attitude. And his young, ingenuous face, with -lowered eyelids, expressed no grief, no sternness, no horror--but was -set in the repose of a profound, as if endless and endlessly silent, -meditation. - - - - - -PRINCE ROMAN (1911) - - -Events which happened seventy years ago are perhaps rather too far off -to be dragged aptly into a mere conversation. Of course the year 1831 is -for us an historical date, one of these fatal years when in the presence -of the worlds passive indignation and eloquent sympathies we had once -more to murmur _Vo Victis_ and count the cost in sorrow. Not that -we were ever very good at calculating, either, in prosperity or -in adversity. Thats a lesson we could never learn, to the great -exasperation of our enemies who have bestowed upon us the epithet of -Incorrigible.... - -The speaker was of Polish nationality, that nationality not so much -alive as surviving, which persists in thinking, breathing, speaking, -hoping, and suffering in its grave, railed in by a million of bayonets -and triple-sealed with the seals of three great empires. - -The conversation was about aristocracy. How did this, nowadays -discredited, subject come up? It is some years ago now and the precise -recollection has faded. But I remember that it was not considered -practically as an ingredient in the social mixture; and I verily -believed that we arrived at that subject through some exchange of ideas -about patriotism--a somewhat discredited sentiment, because the delicacy -of our humanitarians regards it as a relic of barbarism. Yet neither the -great Florentine painter who closed his eyes in death thinking of his -city, nor St. Francis blessing with his last breath the town of Assisi, -were barbarians. It requires a certain greatness of soul to interpret -patriotism worthily--or else a sincerity of feeling denied to the -vulgar refinement of modern thought which cannot understand the august -simplicity of a sentiment proceeding from the very nature of things and -men. - -The aristocracy we were talking about was the very highest, the great -families of Europe, not impoverished, not converted, not liberalized, -the most distinctive and specialized class of all classes, for which -even ambition itself does not exist among the usual incentives to -activity and regulators of conduct. - -The undisputed right of leadership having passed away from them, we -judged that their great fortunes, their cosmopolitanism brought about by -wide alliances, their elevated station, in which there is so little to -gain and so much to lose, must make their position difficult in times -of political commotion or national upheaval. No longer born to -command--which is the very essence of aristocracy--it becomes difficult -for them to do aught else but hold aloof from the great movements of -popular passion. - -We had reached that conclusion when the remark about far-off events was -made and the date of 1831 mentioned. And the speaker continued: - -I dont mean to say that I knew Prince Roman at that remote time. I -begin to feel pretty ancient, but I am not so ancient as that. In fact -Prince Roman was married the very year my father was born. It was in -1828; the 19th Century was young yet and the Prince was even younger -than the century, but I dont know exactly by how much. In any case -his was an early marriage. It was an ideal alliance from every point -of view. The girl was young and beautiful, an orphan heiress of a great -name and of a great fortune. The Prince, then an officer in the -Guards and distinguished amongst his fellows by something reserved -and reflective in his character, had fallen headlong in love with her -beauty, her charm, and the serious qualities of her mind and heart. He -was a rather silent young man; but his glances, his bearing, his whole -person expressed his absolute devotion to the woman of his choice, a -devotion which she returned in her own frank and fascinating manner. - -The flame of this pure young passion promised to burn for ever; and for -a season it lit up the dry, cynical atmosphere of the great world of St. -Petersburg. The Emperor Nicholas himself, the grandfather of the present -man, the one who died from the Crimean War, the last perhaps of the -Autocrats with a mystical belief in the Divine character of his mission, -showed some interest in this pair of married lovers. It is true that -Nicholas kept a watchful eye on all the doings of the great Polish -nobles. The young people leading a life appropriate to their station -were obviously wrapped up in each other; and society, fascinated by the -sincerity of a feeling moving serenely among the artificialities of -its anxious and fastidious agitation, watched them with benevolent -indulgence and an amused tenderness. - -The marriage was the social event of 1828, in the capital. Just forty -years afterwards I was staying in the country house of my mothers -brother in our southern provinces. - -It was the dead of winter. The great lawn in front was as pure and -smooth as an alpine snowfield, a white and feathery level sparkling -under the sun as if sprinkled with diamond-dust, declining gently to -the lake--a long, sinuous piece of frozen water looking bluish and -more solid than the earth. A cold brilliant sun glided low above an -undulating horizon of great folds of snow in which the villages of -Ukrainian peasants remained out of sight, like clusters of boats hidden -in the hollows of a running sea. And everything was very still. - -I dont know now how I had managed to escape at eleven oclock in the -morning from the schoolroom. I was a boy of eight, the little girl, -my cousin, a few months younger than myself, though hereditarily more -quick-tempered, was less adventurous. So I had escaped alone; and -presently I found myself in the great stone-paved hall, warmed by a -monumental stove of white tiles, a much more pleasant locality than the -schoolroom, which for some reason or other, perhaps hygienic, was always -kept at a low temperature. - -We children were aware that there was a guest staying in the house. He -had arrived the night before just as we were being driven off to bed. -We broke back through the line of beaters to rush and flatten our noses -against the dark window panes; but we were too late to see him alight. -We had only watched in a ruddy glare the big travelling carriage on -sleigh-runners harnessed with six horses, a black mass against the snow, -going off to the stables, preceded by a horseman carrying a blazing ball -of tow and resin in an iron basket at the end of a long stick swung from -his saddle bow. Two stable boys had been sent out early in the afternoon -along the snow-tracks to meet the expected guest at dusk and light his -way with these road torches. At that time, you must remember, there -was not a single mile of railways in our southern provinces. My little -cousin and I had no knowledge of trains and engines, except from -picture-books, as of things rather vague, extremely remote, and not -particularly interesting unless to grownups who travelled abroad. - -Our notion of princes, perhaps a little more precise, was mainly -literary and had a glamour reflected from the light of fairy tales, in -which princes always appear young, charming, heroic, and fortunate. Yet, -as well as any other children, we could draw a firm line between the -real and the ideal. We knew that princes were historical personages. And -there was some glamour in that fact, too. But what had driven me to -roam cautiously over the house like an escaped prisoner was the hope of -snatching an interview with a special friend of mine, the head forester, -who generally came to make his report at that time of the day, I yearned -for news of a certain wolf. You know, in a country where wolves are to -be found, every winter almost brings forward an individual eminent by -the audacity of his misdeeds, by his more perfect wolfishness--so to -speak. I wanted to hear some new thrilling tale of that wolf--perhaps -the dramatic story of his death.... - -But there was no one in the hall. - -Deceived in my hopes, I became suddenly very much depressed. Unable to -slip back in triumph to my studies I elected to stroll spiritlessly into -the billiard room where certainly I had no business. There was no one -there either, and I felt very lost and desolate under its high ceiling, -all alone with the massive English billiard table which seemed, in -heavy, rectilinear silence, to disapprove of that small boys intrusion. - -As I began to think of retreat I heard footsteps in the adjoining -drawing room; and, before I could turn tail and flee, my uncle and his -guest appeared in the doorway. To run away after having been seen -would have been highly improper, so I stood my ground. My uncle looked -surprised to see me; the guest by his side was a spare man, of average -stature, buttoned up in a black frock coat and holding himself very -erect with a stiffly soldier-like carriage. From the folds of a soft -white cambric neck-cloth peeped the points of a collar close against -each shaven cheek. A few wisps of thin gray hair were brushed smoothly -across the top of his bald head. His face, which must have been -beautiful in its day, had preserved in age the harmonious simplicity -of its lines. What amazed me was its even, almost deathlike pallor. He -seemed to me to be prodigiously old. A faint smile, a mere momentary -alteration in the set of his thin lips acknowledged my blushing -confusion; and I became greatly interested to see him reach into the -inside breastpocket of his coat. He extracted therefrom a lead pencil -and a block of detachable pages, which he handed to my uncle with an -almost imperceptible bow. - -I was very much astonished, but my uncle received it as a matter -of course. He wrote something at which the other glanced and nodded -slightly. A thin wrinkled hand--the hand was older than the face--patted -my cheek and then rested on my head lightly. An un-ringing voice, a -voice as colourless as the face itself, issued from his sunken lips, -while the eyes, dark and still, looked down at me kindly. - -And how old is this shy little boy? - -Before I could answer my uncle wrote down my age on the pad. I was -deeply impressed. What was this ceremony? Was this personage too great -to be spoken to? Again he glanced at the pad, and again gave a nod, and -again that impersonal, mechanical voice was heard: He resembles his -grandfather. - -I remembered my paternal grandfather. He had died not long before. He, -too, was prodigiously old. And to me it seemed perfectly natural that -two such ancient and venerable persons should have known each other in -the dim ages of creation before my birth. But my uncle obviously had -not been aware of the fact. So obviously that the mechanical voice -explained: Yes, yes. Comrades in 31. He was one of those who knew. -Old times, my dear sir, old times.... - -He made a gesture as if to put aside an importunate ghost. And now they -were both looking down at me. I wondered whether anything was expected -from me. To my round, questioning eyes my uncle remarked: Hes -completely deaf. And the unrelated, inexpressive voice said: Give me -your hand. - -Acutely conscious of inky fingers I put it out timidly. I had never -seen a deaf person before and was rather startled. He pressed it firmly -and then gave me a final pat on the head. - -My uncle addressed me weightily: You have shaken hands with Prince -Roman S---------. Its something for you to remember when you grow up. - -I was impressed by his tone. I had enough historical information to -know vaguely that the Princes S--------- counted amongst the sovereign -Princes of Ruthenia till the union of all Ruthenian lands to the kingdom -of Poland, when they became great Polish magnates, sometime at the -beginning of the 15th Century. But what concerned me most was the -failure of the fairy-tale glamour. It was shocking to discover a prince -who was deaf, bald, meagre, and so prodigiously old. It never occurred -to me that this imposing and disappointing man had been young, rich, -beautiful; I could not know that he had been happy in the felicity of an -ideal marriage uniting two young hearts, two great names and two great -fortunes; happy with a happiness which, as in fairy tales, seemed -destined to last for ever.... - -But it did not last for ever. It was fated not to last very long even -by the measure of the days allotted to mens passage on this earth where -enduring happiness is only found in the conclusion of fairy tales. A -daughter was born to them and shortly afterwards, the health of the -young princess began to fail. For a time she bore up with smiling -intrepidity, sustained by the feeling that now her existence was -necessary for the happiness of two lives. But at last the husband, -thoroughly alarmed by the rapid changes in her appearance, obtained an -unlimited leave and took her away from the capital to his parents in the -country. - -The old prince and princess were extremely frightened at the state -of their beloved daughter-in-law. Preparations were at once made for a -journey abroad. But it seemed as if it were already too late; and the -invalid herself opposed the project with gentle obstinacy. Thin and pale -in the great armchair, where the insidious and obscure nervous malady -made her appear smaller and more frail every day without effacing the -smile of her eyes or the charming grace of her wasted face, she clung to -her native land and wished to breathe her native air. Nowhere else could -she expect to get well so quickly, nowhere else would it be so easy for -her to die. - -She died before her little girl was two years old. The grief of -the husband was terrible and the more alarming to his parents because -perfectly silent and dry-eyed. After the funeral, while the immense -bareheaded crowd of peasants surrounding the private chapel on the -grounds was dispersing, the Prince, waving away his friends and -relations, remained alone to watch the masons of the estate closing the -family vault. When the last stone was in position he uttered a groan, -the first sound of pain which had escaped from him for days, and walking -away with lowered head shut himself up again in his apartments. - -His father and mother feared for his reason. His outward tranquillity -was appalling to them. They had nothing to trust to but that very youth -which made his despair so self-absorbed and so intense. Old Prince John, -fretful and anxious, repeated: Poor Roman should be roused somehow. -Hes so young. But they could find nothing to rouse him with. And the -old princess, wiping her eyes, wished in her heart he were young enough -to come and cry at her knee. - -In time Prince Roman, making an effort, would join now and again the -family circle. But it was as if his heart and his mind had been buried -in the family vault with the wife he had lost. He took to wandering in -the woods with a gun, watched over secretly by one of the keepers, who -would report in the evening that His Serenity has never fired a shot -all day. Sometimes walking to the stables in the morning he would order -in subdued tones a horse to be saddled, wait switching his boot till it -was led up to him, then mount without a word and ride out of the gates -at a walking pace. He would be gone all day. People saw him on the -roads looking neither to the right nor to the left, white-faced, sitting -rigidly in the saddle like a horseman of stone on a living mount. - -The peasants working in the fields, the great unhedged fields, looked -after him from the distance; and sometimes some sympathetic old woman on -the threshold of a low, thatched hut was moved to make the sign of the -cross in the air behind his back; as though he were one of themselves, a -simple village soul struck by a sore affliction. - -He rode looking straight ahead seeing no one as if the earth were empty -and all mankind buried in that grave which had opened so suddenly in -his path to swallow up his happiness. What were men to him with their -sorrows, joys, labours and passions from which she who had been all the -world to him had been cut off so early? - -They did not exist; and he would have felt as completely lonely and -abandoned as a man in the toils of a cruel nightmare if it had not been -for this countryside where he had been born and had spent his happy -boyish years. He knew it well--every slight rise crowned with trees -amongst the ploughed fields, every dell concealing a village. The dammed -streams made a chain of lakes set in the green meadows. Far away to the -north the great Lithuanian forest faced the sun, no higher than a hedge; -and to the south, the way to the plains, the vast brown spaces of the -earth touched the blue sky. - -And this familiar landscape associated with the days without thought -and without sorrow, this land the charm of which he felt without even -looking at it soothed his pain, like the presence of an old friend who -sits silent and disregarded by one in some dark hour of life. - -One afternoon, it happened that the Prince after turning his horses -head for home remarked a low dense cloud of dark dust cutting off -slantwise a part of the view. He reined in on a knoll and peered. -There were slender gleams of steel here and there in that cloud, and it -contained moving forms which revealed themselves at last as a long line -of peasant carts full of soldiers, moving slowly in double file under -the escort of mounted Cossacks. - -It was like an immense reptile creeping over the fields; its head -dipped out of sight in a slight hollow and its tail went on writhing and -growing shorter as though the monster were eating its way slowly into -the very heart of the land. - -The Prince directed his way through a village lying a little off -the track. The roadside inn with its stable, byre, and barn under one -enormous thatched roof resembled a deformed, hunch-backed, ragged giant, -sprawling amongst the small huts of the peasants. The innkeeper, a -portly, dignified Jew, clad in a black satin coat reaching down to his -heels and girt with a red sash, stood at the door stroking his long -silvery beard. - -He watched the Prince approach and bowed gravely from the waist, not -expecting to be noticed even, since it was well known that their young -lord had no eyes for anything or anybody in his grief. It was quite a -shock for him when the Prince pulled up and asked: - -Whats all this, Yankel? - -That is, please your Serenity, that is a convoy of footsoldiers they -are hurrying down to the south. - -He glanced right and left cautiously, but as there was no one near but -some children playing in the dust of the village street, he came up -close to the stirrup. - -Doesnt your Serenity know? It has begun already down there. All the -landowners great and small are out in arms and even the common people -have risen. Only yesterday the saddler from Grodek (it was a tiny -market-town near by) went through here with his two apprentices on his -way to join. He left even his cart with me. I gave him a guide through -our neighbourhood. You know, your Serenity, our people they travel a lot -and they see all thats going on, and they know all the roads. - -He tried to keep down his excitement, for the Jew Yankel, innkeeper and -tenant of all the mills on the estate, was a Polish patriot. And in a -still lower voice: - -I was already a married man when the French and all the other nations -passed this way with Napoleon. Tse! Tse! That was a great harvest for -death, _nu!_ Perhaps this time God will help. - -The Prince nodded. Perhaps--and falling into deep meditation he let -his horse take him home. - -That night he wrote a letter, and early in the morning sent a mounted -express to the post town. During the day he came out of his taciturnity, -to the great joy of the family circle, and conversed with his father -of recent events--the revolt in Warsaw, the flight of the Grand Duke -Constantine, the first slight successes of the Polish army (at that time -there was a Polish army); the risings in the provinces. Old Prince John, -moved and uneasy, speaking from a purely aristocratic point of view, -mistrusted the popular origins of the movement, regretted its democratic -tendencies, and did not believe in the possibility of success. He was -sad, inwardly agitated. - -I am judging all this calmly. There are secular principles of -legitimity and order which have been violated in this reckless -enterprise for the sake of most subversive illusions. Though of course -the patriotic impulses of the heart.... - -Prince Roman had listened in a thoughtful attitude. He took advantage -of the pause to tell his father quietly that he had sent that morning a -letter to St. Petersburg resigning his commission in the Guards. - -The old prince remained silent. He thought that he ought to have been -consulted. His son was also ordnance officer to the Emperor and he -knew that the Tsar would never forget this appearance of defection in a -Polish noble. In a discontented tone he pointed out to his son that as -it was he had an unlimited leave. The right thing would have been to -keep quiet. They had too much tact at Court to recall a man of his -name. Or at worst some distant mission might have been asked for--to the -Caucasus for instance--away from this unhappy struggle which was wrong -in principle and therefore destined to fail. - -Presently you shall find yourself without any interest in life and -with no occupation. And you shall need something to occupy you, my poor -boy. You have acted rashly, I fear. - -Prince Roman murmured. - -I thought it better. - -His father faltered under his steady gaze. - -Well, well--perhaps! But as ordnance officer to the Emperor and in -favour with all the Imperial family.... - -Those people had never been heard of when our house was already -illustrious, the young man let fall disdainfully. - -This was the sort of remark to which the old prince was sensible. - -Well--perhaps it is better, he conceded at last. - -The father and son parted affectionately for the night. The next -day Prince Roman seemed to have fallen back into the depths of his -indifference. He rode out as usual. He remembered that the day before -he had seen a reptile-like convoy of soldiery, bristling with bayonets, -crawling over the face of that land which was his. The woman he loved -had been his, too. Death had robbed him of her. Her loss had been to him -a moral shock. It had opened his heart to a greater sorrow, his mind -to a vaster thought, his eyes to all the past and to the existence of -another love fraught with pain but as mysteriously imperative as that -lost one to which he had entrusted his happiness. - -That evening he retired earlier than usual and rang for his personal -servant. - -Go and see if there is light yet in the quarters of the -Master-of-the-Horse. If he is still up ask him to come and speak to me. - -While the servant was absent on this errand the Prince tore up hastily -some papers, locked the drawers of his desk, and hung a medallion, -containing the miniature of his wife, round his neck against his breast. - -The man the Prince was expecting belonged to that past which the death -of his love had called to life. He was of a family of small nobles who -for generations had been adherents, servants, and friends of the Princes -S---------. He remembered the times before the last partition and had -taken part in the struggles of the last hour. He was a typical old Pole -of that class, with a great capacity for emotion, for blind enthusiasm; -with martial instincts and simple beliefs; and even with the old-time -habit of larding his speech with Latin words. And his kindly shrewd -eyes, his ruddy face, his lofty brow and his thick, gray, pendent -moustache were also very typical of his kind. - -Listen, Master Francis, the Prince said familiarly and without -preliminaries. Listen, old friend. I am going to vanish from here -quietly. I go where something louder than my grief and yet something -with a voice very like it calls me. I confide in you alone. You will say -whats necessary when the time comes. - -The old man understood. His extended hands trembled exceedingly. But -as soon as he found his voice he thanked God aloud for letting him -live long enough to see the descendant of the illustrious family in its -youngest generation give an example _coram Gentibus_ of the love of his -country and of valour in the field. He doubted not of his dear Prince -attaining a place in council and in war worthy of his high birth; he saw -already that _in fulgore_ of family glory _affulget patride serenitas_. -At the end of the speech he burst into tears and fell into the Princes -arms. - -The Prince quieted the old man and when he had him seated in an -armchair and comparatively composed he said: - -Dont misunderstand me, Master Francis. You know how I loved my wife. -A loss like that opens ones eyes to unsuspected truths. There is no -question here of leadership and glory. I mean to go alone and to fight -obscurely in the ranks. I am going to offer my country what is mine to -offer, that is my life, as simply as the saddler from Grodek who went -through yesterday with his apprentices. - -The old man cried out at this. That could never be. He could not allow -it. But he had to give way before the arguments and the express will -of the Prince. Ha! If you say that it is a matter of feeling and -conscience--so be it. But you cannot go utterly alone. Alas! that I am -too old to be of any use. _Cripit verba dolor_, my dear Prince, at the -thought that I am over seventy and of no more account in the world than -a cripple in the church porch. It seems that to sit at home and pray to -God for the nation and for you is all I am fit for. But there is my son, -my youngest son, Peter. He will make a worthy companion for you. And -as it happens hes staying with me here. There has not been for ages a -Prince S--------- hazarding his life without a companion of our name to -ride by his side. You must have by you somebody who knows who you are if -only to let your parents and your old servant hear what is happening to -you. And when does your Princely Mightiness mean to start? - -In an hour, said the Prince; and the old man hurried off to warn his -son. - -Prince Roman took up a candlestick and walked quietly along a dark -corridor in the silent house. The head-nurse said afterwards that waking -up suddenly she saw the Prince looking at his child, one hand shading -the light from its eyes. He stood and gazed at her for some time, and -then putting the candlestick on the floor bent over the cot and kissed -lightly the little girl who did not wake. He went out noiselessly, -taking the light away with him. She saw his face perfectly well, but she -could read nothing of his purpose in it. It was pale but perfectly calm -and after he turned away from the cot he never looked back at it once. - -The only other trusted person, besides the old man and his son Peter, -was the Jew Yankel. When he asked the Prince where precisely he wanted -to be guided the Prince answered: To the nearest party. A grandson -of the Jew, a lanky youth, conducted the two young men by little-known -paths across woods and morasses, and led them in sight of the few fires -of a small detachment camped in a hollow. Some invisible horses neighed, -a voice in the dark cried: Who goes there?... and the young Jew -departed hurriedly, explaining that he must make haste home to be in -time for keeping the Sabbath. - -Thus humbly and in accord with the simplicity of the vision of duty he -saw when death had removed the brilliant bandage of happiness from his -eyes, did Prince Roman bring his offering to his country. His companion -made himself known as the son of the Master of-the-Horse to the Princes -S--------- and declared him to be a relation, a distant cousin from the -same parts as himself and, as people presumed, of the same name. In -truth no one inquired much. Two more young men clearly of the right sort -had joined. Nothing more natural. - -Prince Roman did not remain long in the south. One day while scouting -with several others, they were ambushed near the entrance of a village -by some Russian infantry. The first discharge laid low a good many and -the rest scattered in all directions. The Russians, too, did not stay, -being afraid of a return in force. After some time, the peasants coming -to view the scene extricated Prince Roman from under his dead horse. He -was unhurt but his faithful companion had been one of the first to fall. -The Prince helped the peasants to bury him and the other dead. - -Then alone, not certain where to find the body of partizans which was -constantly moving about in all directions, he resolved to try and join -the main Polish army facing the Russians on the borders of Lithuania. -Disguised in peasant clothes, in case of meeting some marauding -Cossacks, he wandered a couple of weeks before he came upon a village -occupied by a regiment of Polish cavalry on outpost duty. - -On a bench, before a peasant hut of a better sort, sat an elderly -officer whom he took for the colonel. The Prince approached -respectfully, told his story shortly and stated his desire to enlist; -and when asked his name by the officer, who had been looking him over -carefully, he gave on the spur of the moment the name of his dead -companion. - -The elderly officer thought to himself: Heres the son of some peasant -proprietor of the liberated class. He liked his appearance. - -And can you read and write, my good fellow?he asked. - -Yes, your honour, I can, said the Prince. - -Good. Come along inside the hut; the regimental adjutant is there. He -will enter your name and administer the oath to you. - -The adjutant stared very hard at the newcomer but said nothing. When -all the forms had been gone through and the recruit gone out, he turned -to his superior officer. - -Do you know who that is? - -Who? That Peter? A likely chap. - -Thats Prince Roman S---------. - -Nonsense. - -But the adjutant was positive. He had seen the Prince several times, -about two years before, in the Castle in Warsaw. He had even spoken to -him once at a reception of officers held by the Grand Duke. - -Hes changed. He seems much older, but I am certain of my man. I have -a good memory for faces. - -The two officers looked at each other in silence. - -Hes sure to be recognized sooner or later, murmured the adjutant. -The colonel shrugged his shoulders. - -Its no affair of ours--if he has a fancy to serve in the ranks. As to -being recognized its not so likely. All our officers and men come from -the other end of Poland. - -He meditated gravely for a while, then smiled. He told me he could -read and write. Theres nothing to prevent me making him a sergeant at -the first opportunity. Hes sure to shape all right. - -Prince Roman as a non-commissioned officer surpassed the colonels -expectations. Before long Sergeant Peter became famous for his -resourcefulness and courage. It was not the reckless courage of a -desperate man; it was a self-possessed, as if conscientious, valour -which nothing could dismay; a boundless but equable devotion, unaffected -by time, by reverses, by the discouragement of endless retreats, by the -bitterness of waning hopes and the horrors of pestilence added to the -toils and perils of war. It was in this year that the cholera made its -first appearance in Europe. It devastated the camps of both armies, -affecting the firmest minds with the terror of a mysterious death -stalking silently between the piled-up arms and around the bivouac -fires. - -A sudden shriek would wake up the harassed soldiers and they would see -in the glow of embers one of themselves writhe on the ground like a worm -trodden on by an invisible foot. And before the dawn broke he would be -stiff and cold. Parties so visited have been known to rise like one man, -abandon the fire and run off into the night in mute panic. Or a comrade -talking to you on the march would stammer suddenly in the middle of a -sentence, roll affrighted eyes, and fall down with distorted face and -blue lips, breaking the ranks with the convulsions of his agony. Men -were struck in the saddle, on sentry duty, in the firing line, carrying -orders, serving the guns. I have been told that in a battalion forming -under fire with perfect steadiness for the assault of a village, three -cases occurred within five minutes at the head of the column; and the -attack could not be delivered because the leading companies scattered -all over the fields like chaff before the wind. - -Sergeant Peter, young as he was, had a great influence over his men. -It was said that the number of desertions in the squadron in which he -served was less than in any other in the whole of that cavalry division. -Such was supposed to be the compelling example of one mans quiet -intrepidity in facing every form of danger and terror. - -However that may be, he was liked and trusted generally. When the end -came and the remnants of that army corps, hard pressed on all sides, -were preparing to cross the Prussian frontier, Sergeant Peter had enough -influence to rally round him a score of troopers. He managed to escape -with them at night, from the hemmed-in army. He led this band through -200 miles of country covered by numerous Russian detachments and ravaged -by the cholera. But this was not to avoid captivity, to go into hiding -and try to save themselves. No. He led them into a fortress which was -still occupied by the Poles, and where the last stand of the vanquished -revolution was to be made. - -This looks like mere fanaticism. But fanaticism is human. Man has -adored ferocious divinities. There is ferocity in every passion, even -in love itself. The religion of undying hope resembles the mad cult of -despair, of death, of annihilation. The difference lies in the moral -motive springing from the secret needs and the unexpressed aspiration -of the believers. It is only to vain men that all is vanity; and all is -deception only to those who have never been sincere with themselves. - -It was in the fortress that my grandfather found himself together with -Sergeant Peter. My grandfather was a neighbour of the S--------- family -in the country but he did not know Prince Roman, who however knew his -name perfectly well. The Prince introduced himself one night as they -both sat on the ramparts, leaning against a gun carriage. - -The service he wished to ask for was, in case of his being killed, to -have the intelligence conveyed to his parents. - -They talked in low tones, the other servants of the piece lying about -near them. My grandfather gave the required promise, and then asked -frankly--for he was greatly interested by the disclosure so unexpectedly -made: - -But tell me, Prince, why this request? Have you any evil forebodings as -to yourself? - -Not in the least; I was thinking of my people. They have no idea where -I am, answered Prince Roman. Ill engage to do as much for you, if you -like. Its certain that half of us at least shall be killed before the -end, so theres an even chance of one of us surviving the other. - -My grandfather told him where, as he supposed, his wife and children -were then. From that moment till the end of the siege the two were much -together. On the day of the great assault my grandfather received a -severe wound. The town was taken. Next day the citadel itself, its -hospital full of dead and dying, its magazines empty, its defenders -having burnt their last cartridge, opened its gates. - -During all the campaign the Prince, exposing his person conscientiously -on every occasion, had not received a scratch. No one had recognized him -or at any rate had betrayed his identity. Till then, as long as he did -his duty, it had mattered nothing who he was. - -Now, however, the position was changed. As ex-guardsman and as late -ordnance officer to the Emperor, this rebel ran a serious risk of being -given special attention in the shape of a firing squad at ten paces. For -more than a month he remained lost in the miserable crowd of prisoners -packed in the casemates of the citadel, with just enough food to -keep body and soul together but otherwise allowed to die from wounds, -privation, and disease at the rate of forty or so a day. - -The position of the fortress being central, new parties, captured in -the open in the course of a thorough pacification, were being sent in -frequently. Amongst such newcomers there happened to be a young man, a -personal friend of the Prince from his school days. He recognized him, -and in the extremity of his dismay cried aloud: My God! Roman, you -here! - -It is said that years of life embittered by remorse paid for this -momentary lack of self-control. All this happened in the main quadrangle -of the citadel. The warning gesture of the Prince came too late. -An officer of the gendarmes on guard had heard the exclamation. The -incident appeared to him worth inquiring into. The investigation which -followed was not very arduous because the Prince, asked categorically -for his real name, owned up at once. - -The intelligence of the Prince S---------- being found amongst the -prisoners was sent to St. Petersburg. His parents were already there -living in sorrow, incertitude, and apprehension. The capital of the -Empire was the safest place to reside in for a noble whose son had -disappeared so mysteriously from home in a time of rebellion. The old -people had not heard from him, or of him, for months. They took care -not to contradict the rumours of suicide from despair circulating in the -great world, which remembered the interesting love-match, the charming -and frank happiness brought to an end by death. But they hoped secretly -that their son survived, and that he had been able to cross the frontier -with that part of the army which had surrendered to the Prussians. - -The news of his captivity was a crushing blow. Directly, nothing could -be done for him. But the greatness of their name, of their position, -their wide relations and connections in the highest spheres, enabled his -parents to act indirectly and they moved heaven and earth, as the saying -is, to save their son from the consequences of his madness, as poor -Prince John did not hesitate to express himself. Great personages -were approached by society leaders, high dignitaries were interviewed, -powerful officials were induced to take an interest in that affair. -The help of every possible secret influence was enlisted. Some private -secretaries got heavy bribes. The mistress of a certain senator obtained -a large sum of money. - -But, as I have said, in such a glaring case no direct appeal could be -made and no open steps taken. All that could be done was to incline -by private representation the mind of the President of the Military -Commission to the side of clemency. He ended by being impressed by the -hints and suggestions, some of them from very high quarters, which he -received from St. Petersburg. And, after all, the gratitude of such -great nobles as the Princes S-------- was something worth having from -a worldly point of view. He was a good Russian but he was also a -good-natured man. Moreover, the hate of Poles was not at that time -a cardinal article of patriotic creed as it became some thirty years -later. He felt well disposed at first sight towards that young man, -bronzed, thin-faced, worn out by months of hard campaigning, the -hardships of the siege and the rigours of captivity. - -The Commission was composed of three officers. It sat in the citadel in -a bare vaulted room behind a long black table. Some clerks occupied the -two ends, and besides the gendarmes who brought in the Prince there was -no one else there. - -Within those four sinister walls shutting out from him all the -sights and sounds of liberty, all hopes of the future, all consoling -illusions--alone in the face of his enemies erected for judges, who can -tell how much love of life there was in Prince Roman? How much remained -in that sense of duty, revealed to him in sorrow? How much of his -awakened love for his native country? That country which demands to -be loved as no other country has ever been loved, with the -mournful affection one bears to the unforgotten dead and with the -unextinguishable fire of a hopeless passion which only a living, -breathing, warm ideal can kindle in our breasts for our pride, for our -weariness, for our exultation, for our undoing. - -There is something monstrous in the thought of such an exaction till -it stands before us embodied in the shape of a fidelity without fear -and without reproach. Nearing the supreme moment of his life the Prince -could only have had the feeling that it was about to end. He answered -the questions put to him clearly, concisely--with the most profound -indifference. After all those tense months of action, to talk was a -weariness to him. But he concealed it, lest his foes should suspect in -his manner the apathy of discouragement or the numbness of a crushed -spirit. The details of his conduct could have no importance one way or -another; with his thoughts these men had nothing to do. He preserved a -scrupulously courteous tone. He had refused the permission to sit down. - -What happened at this preliminary examination is only known from the -presiding officer. Pursuing the only possible course in that glaringly -bad case he tried from the first to bring to the Princes mind the line -of defence he wished him to take. He absolutely framed his questions so -as to put the right answers in the culprits mouth, going so far as to -suggest the very words: how, distracted by excessive grief after his -young wifes death, rendered irresponsible for his conduct by his -despair, in a moment of blind recklessness, without realizing the highly -reprehensible nature of the act, nor yet its danger and its dishonour, -he went off to join the nearest rebels on a sudden impulse. And that -now, penitently... - -But Prince Roman was silent. The military judges looked at him -hopefully. In silence he reached for a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper -he found under his hand: I joined the national rising from conviction. - -He pushed the paper across the table. The president took it up, showed -it in turn to his two colleagues sitting to the right and left, then -looking fixedly at Prince Roman let it fall from his hand. And the -silence remained unbroken till he spoke to the gendarmes ordering them -to remove the prisoner. - -Such was the written testimony of Prince Roman in the supreme moment of -his life. I have heard that the Princes of the S--------- family, in -all its branches, adopted the last two words: From conviction for the -device under the armorial bearings of their house. I dont know whether -the report is true. My uncle could not tell me. He remarked only, that -naturally, it was not to be seen on Prince Romans own seal. - -He was condemned for life to Siberian mines. Emperor Nicholas, who -always took personal cognizance of all sentences on Polish nobility, -wrote with his own hand in the margin: The authorities are severely -warned to take care that this convict walks in chains like any other -criminal every step of the way. - -It was a sentence of deferred death. Very few survived entombment in -these mines for more than three years. Yet as he was reported as still -alive at the end of that time he was allowed, on a petition of his -parents and by way of exceptional grace, to serve as common soldier in -the Caucasus. All communication with him was forbidden. He had no civil -rights. For all practical purposes except that of suffering he was a -dead man. The little child he had been so careful not to wake up when -he kissed her in her cot, inherited all the fortune after Prince Johns -death. Her existence saved those immense estates from confiscation. - -It was twenty-five years before Prince Roman, stone deaf, his health -broken, was permitted to return to Poland. His daughter married -splendidly to a Polish Austrian _grand seigneur_ and, moving in the -cosmopolitan sphere of the highest European aristocracy, lived mostly -abroad in Nice and Vienna. He, settling down on one of her estates, not -the one with the palatial residence but another where there was a modest -little house, saw very little of her. - -But Prince Roman did not shut himself up as if his work were done. -There was hardly anything done in the private and public life of the -neighbourhood, in which Prince Romans advice and assistance were not -called upon, and never in vain. It was well said that his days did not -belong to himself but to his fellow citizens. And especially he was the -particular friend of all returned exiles, helping them with purse and -advice, arranging their affairs and finding them means of livelihood. - -I heard from my uncle many tales of his devoted activity, in which he -was always guided by a simple wisdom, a high sense of honour, and the -most scrupulous conception of private and public probity. He remains a -living figure for me because of that meeting in a billiard room, when, -in my anxiety to hear about a particularly wolfish wolf, I came in -momentary contact with a man who was preeminently a man amongst all men -capable of feeling deeply, of believing steadily, of loving ardently. - -I remember to this day the grasp of Prince Romans bony, wrinkled hand -closing on my small inky paw, and my uncles half-serious, half-amused -way of looking down at his trespassing nephew. - -They moved on and forgot that little boy. But I did not move; I gazed -after them, not so much disappointed as disconcerted by this prince so -utterly unlike a prince in a fairy tale. They moved very slowly across -the room. Before reaching the other door the Prince stopped, and I heard -him--I seem to hear him now--saying: I wish you would write to Vienna -about filling up that post. Hes a most deserving fellow--and your -recommendation would be decisive. - -My uncles face turned to him expressed genuine wonder. It said as -plainly as any speech could say: What better recommendation than a -fathers can be needed? The Prince was quick at reading expressions. -Again he spoke with the toneless accent of a man who has not heard his -own voice for years, for whom the soundless world is like an abode of -silent shades. - -And to this day I remember the very words: I ask you because, you see, -my daughter and my son-in-law dont believe me to be a good judge -of men. They think that I let myself be guided too much by mere -sentiment. - - - - - -THE TALE (1917) - - -Outside the large single window the crepuscular light was dying out -slowly in a great square gleam without colour, framed rigidly in the -gathering shades of the room. - -It was a long room. The irresistible tide of the night ran into the most -distant part of it, where the whispering of a mans voice, passionately -interrupted and passionately renewed, seemed to plead against the -answering murmurs of infinite sadness. - -At last no answering murmur came. His movement when he rose slowly from -his knees by the side of the deep, shadowy couch holding the shadowy -suggestion of a reclining woman revealed him tall under the low ceiling, -and sombre all over except for the crude discord of the white collar -under the shape of his head and the faint, minute spark of a brass -button here and there on his uniform. - -He stood over her a moment, masculine and mysterious in his immobility, -before he sat down on a chair near by. He could see only the faint oval -of her upturned face and, extended on her black dress, her pale hands, a -moment before abandoned to his kisses and now as if too weary to move. - -He dared not make a sound, shrinking as a man would do from the prosaic -necessities of existence. As usual, it was the woman who had the -courage. Her voice was heard first--almost conventional while her being -vibrated yet with conflicting emotions. - -Tell me something, she said. - -The darkness hid his surprise and then his smile. Had he not just said -to her everything worth saying in the world--and that not for the first -time! - -What am I to tell you? he asked, in a voice creditably steady. He was -beginning to feel grateful to her for that something final in her tone -which had eased the strain. - -Why not tell me a tale? - -A tale! He was really amazed. - -Yes. Why not? - -These words came with a slight petulance, the hint of a loved womans -capricious will, which is capricious only because it feels itself to to -be a law, embarrassing sometimes and always difficult to elude. - -Why not? he repeated, with a slightly mocking accent, as though he had -been asked to give her the moon. But now he was feeling a little angry -with her for that feminine mobility that slips out of an emotion as -easily as out of a splendid gown. - -He heard her say, a little unsteadily with a sort of fluttering -intonation which made him think suddenly of a butterflys flight: - -You used to tell--your--your simple and--and professional--tales very -well at one time. Or well enough to interest me. You had a--a sort of -art--in the days--the days before the war. - -Really? he said, with involuntary gloom. But now, you see, the war -is going on, he continued in such a dead, equable tone that she felt a -slight chill fall over her shoulders. And yet she persisted. For theres -nothing more unswerving in the world than a womans caprice. - -It could be a tale not of this world, she explained. - -You want a tale of the other, the better world? he asked, with a -matter-of-fact surprise. You must evoke for that task those who have -already gone there. - -No. I dont mean that. I mean another--some other--world. In the -universe--not in heaven. - -I am relieved. But you forget that I have only five days leave. - -Yes. And Ive also taken a five days leave from--from my duties. - -I like that word. - -What word? - -Duty. - -It is horrible--sometimes. - -Oh, thats because you think its narrow. But it isnt. It contains -infinities, and--and so------ - -What is this jargon? - -He disregarded the interjected scorn. An infinity of absolution, for -instance, he continued. But as to this another world--whos going to -look for it and for the tale that is in it? - -You, she said, with a strange, almost rough, sweetness of assertion. - -He made a shadowy movement of assent in his chair, the irony of which -not even the gathered darkness could render mysterious. - -As you will. In that world, then, there was once upon a time a -Commanding Officer and a Northman. Put in the capitals, please, because -they had no other names. It was a world of seas and continents and -islands------ - -Like the earth, she murmured, bitterly. - -Yes. What else could you expect from sending a man made of our common, -tormented clay on a voyage of discovery? What else could he find? What -else could you understand or care for, or feel the existence of even? -There was comedy in it, and slaughter. - -Always like the earth, she murmured. Always. And since I could find -in the universe only what was deeply rooted in the fibres of my being -there was love in it, too. But we wont talk of that. - -No. We wont, she said, in a neutral tone which concealed perfectly -her relief--or her disappointment. Then after a pause she added: Its -going to be a comic story. - -Well------ he paused, too. Yes. In a way. In a very grim way. It will -be human, and, as you know, comedy is but a matter of the visual angle. -And it wont be a noisy story. All the long guns in it will be dumb--as -dumb as so many telescopes. - -Ah, there are guns in it, then! And may I ask--where? - -Afloat. You remember that the world of which we speak had its seas. A -war was going on in it. It was a funny work! and terribly in earnest. -Its war was being carried on over the land, over the water, under the -water, up in the air, and even under the ground. And many young men -in it, mostly in wardrooms and mess-rooms, used to say to each -other--pardon the unparliamentary word--they used to say, Its a damned -bad war, but its better than no war at all. Sounds flippant, doesnt -it. - -He heard a nervous, impatient sigh in the depths of the couch while he -went on without a pause. - -And yet there is more in it than meets the eye. I mean more wisdom. -Flippancy, like comedy, is but a matter of visual first impression. That -world was not very wise. But there was in it a certain amount of common -working sagacity. That, however, was mostly worked by the neutrals in -diverse ways, public and private, which had to be watched; watched by -acute minds and also by actual sharp eyes. They had to be very sharp -indeed, too, I assure you. - -I can imagine, she murmured, appreciatively. - -What is there that you cant imagine? he pronounced, soberly. You -have the world in you. But let us go back to our commanding officer, -who, of course, commanded a ship of a sort. My tales if often -professional (as you remarked just now) have never been technical. So -Ill just tell you that the ship was of a very ornamental sort once, -with lots of grace and elegance and luxury about her. Yes, once! She -was like a pretty woman who had suddenly put on a suit of sackcloth and -stuck revolvers in her belt. But she floated lightly, she moved nimbly, -she was quite good enough. - -That was the opinion of the commanding officer? said the voice from -the couch. - -It was. He used to be sent out with her along certain coasts to -see--what he could see. Just that. And sometimes he had some preliminary -information to help him, and sometimes he had not. And it was all one, -really. It was about as useful as information trying to convey the -locality and intentions of a cloud, of a phantom taking shape here and -there and impossible to seize, would have been. - -It was in the early days of the war. What at first used to amaze -the commanding officer was the unchanged face of the waters, with its -familiar expression, neither more friendly nor more hostile. On fine -days the sun strikes sparks upon the blue; here and there a peaceful -smudge of smoke hangs in the distance, and it is impossible to believe -that the familiar clear horizon traces the limit of one great circular -ambush. - -Yes, it is impossible to believe, till some day you see a ship not your -own ship (that isnt so impressive), but some ship in company, blow up -all of a sudden and plop under almost before you know what has happened -to her. Then you begin to believe. Henceforth you go out for the work -to see--what you can see, and you keep on at it with the conviction that -some day you will die from something you have not seen. One envies the -soldiers at the end of the day, wiping the sweat and blood from -their faces, counting the dead fallen to their hands, looking at the -devastated fields, the torn earth that seems to suffer and bleed -with them. One does, really. The final brutality of it--the taste of -primitive passion--the ferocious frankness of the blow struck with ones -hand--the direct call and the straight response. Well, the sea gave you -nothing of that, and seemed to pretend that there was nothing the matter -with the world. - -She interrupted, stirring a little. - -Oh, yes. Sincerity--frankness--passion--three words of your gospel. -Dont I know them! - -Think! Isnt it ours--believed in common? he asked, anxiously, -yet without expecting an answer, and went on at once: Such were the -feelings of the commanding officer. When the night came trailing over -the sea, hiding what looked like the hypocrisy of an old friend, it was -a relief. The night blinds you frankly--and there are circumstances when -the sunlight may grow as odious to one as falsehood itself. Night is all -right. - -At night the commanding officer could let his thoughts get away--I -wont tell you where. Somewhere where there was no choice but between -truth and death. But thick weather, though it blinded one, brought -no such relief. Mist is deceitful, the dead luminosity of the fog is -irritating. It seems that you _ought_ to see. - -One gloomy, nasty day the ship was steaming along her beat in sight -of a rocky, dangerous coast that stood out intensely black like an -India-ink drawing on gray paper. Presently the second in command spoke -to his chief. He thought he saw something on the water, to seaward. -Small wreckage, perhaps. - -But there shouldnt be any wreckage here, sir, he remarked. - -No, said the commanding officer. The last reported submarined ships -were sunk a long way to the westward. But one never knows. There may -have been others since then not reported nor seen. Gone with all hands. - -That was how it began. The ships course was altered to pass the object -close; for it was necessary to have a good look at what one could see. -Close, but without touching; for it was not advisable to come in contact -with objects of any form whatever floating casually about. Close, but -without stopping or even diminishing speed; for in those times it was -not prudent to linger on any particular spot, even for a moment. I may -tell you at once that the object was not dangerous in itself. No use -in describing it. It may have been nothing more remarkable than, say, a -barrel of a certain shape and colour. But it was significant. - -The smooth bow-wave hove it up as if for a closer inspection, and -then the ship, brought again to her course, turned her back on it with -indifference, while twenty pairs of eyes on her deck stared in all -directions trying to see--what they could see. - -The commanding officer and his second in command discussed the object -with understanding. It appeared to them to be not so much a proof of the -sagacity as of the activity of certain neutrals. This activity had -in many cases taken the form of replenishing the stores of certain -submarines at sea. This was generally believed, if not absolutely known. -But the very nature of things in those early days pointed that way. -The object, looked at closely and turned away from with apparent -indifference, put it beyond doubt that something of the sort had been -done somewhere in the neighbourhood. - -The object in itself was more than suspect. But the fact of its being -left in evidence roused other suspicions. Was it the result of some deep -and devilish purpose? As to that all speculation soon appeared to be a -vain thing. Finally the two officers came to the conclusion that it -wras left there most likely by accident, complicated possibly by some -unforeseen necessity; such, perhaps, as the sudden need to get away -quickly from the spot, or something of that kind. - -Their discussion had been carried on in curt, weighty phrases, -separated by long, thoughtful silences. And all the time their eyes -roamed about the horizon in an everlasting, almost mechanical effort of -vigilance. The younger man summed up grimly: - -Well, its evidence. Thats what this is. Evidence of what we were -pretty certain of before. And plain, too. - -And much good it will do to us, retorted the commanding officer. The -parties are miles away; the submarine, devil only knows where, ready -to kill; and the noble neutral slipping away to the eastward, ready to -lie! - -The second in command laughed a little at the tone. But he guessed -that the neutral wouldnt even have to lie very much. Fellows like that, -unless caught in the very act, felt themselves pretty safe. They could -afford to chuckle. That fellow was probably chuckling to himself. Its -very possible he had been before at the game and didnt care a rap for -the bit of evidence left behind. It was a game in which practice made -one bold and successful, too. - -And again he laughed faintly. But his commanding officer was in -revolt against the murderous stealthiness of methods and the atrocious -callousness of complicities that seemed to taint the very source of -mens deep emotions and noblest activities; to corrupt their -imagination which builds up the final conceptions of life and death. He -suffered------- - -The voice from the sofa interrupted the narrator. - -How well I can understand that in him! - -He bent forward slightly. - -Yes. I, too. Everything should be open in love and war. Open as -the day, since both are the call of an ideal which it is so easy, so -terribly easy, to degrade in the name of Victory. - -He paused; then went on: I dont know that the commanding officer delved -so deep as that into his feelings. But he did suffer from them--a sort -of disenchanted sadness. It is possible, even, that he suspected himself -of folly. Man is various. But he had no time for much introspection, -because from the southwest a wall of fog had advanced upon his ship. -Great convolutions of vapours flew over, swirling about masts and -funnel, which looked as if they were beginning to melt. Then they -vanished. - -The ship was stopped, all sounds ceased, and the very fog became -motionless, growing denser and as if solid in its amazing dumb -immobility. The men at their stations lost sight of each other. -Footsteps sounded stealthy; rare voices, impersonal and remote, died out -without resonance. A blind white stillness took possession of the world. - -It looked, too, as if it would last for days. I dont mean to say that -the fog did not vary a little in its density. Now and then it would -thin out mysteriously, revealing to the men a more or less ghostly -presentment of their ship. Several times the shadow of the coast itself -swam darkly before their eyes through the fluctuating opaque brightness -of the great white cloud clinging to the water. - -Taking advantage of these moments, the ship had been moved cautiously -nearer the shore. It was useless to remain out in such thick weather. -Her officers knew every nook and cranny of the coast along their beat. -They thought that she would be much better in a certain cove. It wasnt -a large place, just ample room for a ship to swing at her anchor. She -would have an easier time of it till the fog lifted up. - -Slowly, with infinite caution and patience, they crept closer and -closer, seeing no more of the cliffs than an evanescent dark loom with a -narrow border of angry foam at its foot. At the moment of anchoring -the fog was so thick that for all they could see they might have been a -thousand miles out in the open sea. Yet the shelter of the land could -be felt. There was a peculiar quality in the stillness of the air. Very -faint, very elusive, the wash of the ripple against the encircling land -reached their ears, with mysterious sudden pauses. - -The anchor dropped, the leads were laid in. The commanding officer went -below into his cabin. But he had not been there very long when a voice -outside his door requested his presence on deck. He thought to himself: -What is it now? He felt some impatience at being called out again to -face the wearisome fog. - -He found that it had thinned again a little and had taken on a gloomy -hue from the dark cliffs which had no form, no outline, but asserted -themselves as a curtain of shadows all round the ship, except in one -bright spot, which was the entrance from the open sea. Several officers -were looking that way from the bridge. The second in command met him -with the breathlessly whispered information that there was another ship -in the cove. - -She had been made out by several pairs of eyes only a couple of minutes -before. She was lying at anchor very near the entrance--a mere vague -blot on the fogs brightness. And the commanding officer by staring in -the direction pointed out to him by eager hands ended by distinguishing -it at last himself. Indubitably a vessel of some sort. - -Its a wonder we didnt run slap into her when coming in, observed -the second in command. - -Send a boat on board before she vanishes, said the commanding -officer. He surmised that this was a coaster. It could hardly be -anything else. But another thought came into his head suddenly. It is -a wonder, he said to his second in command, who had rejoined him after -sending the boat away. - -By that time both of them had been struck by the fact that the ship so -suddenly discovered had not manifested her presence by ringing her bell. - -We came in very quietly, thats true, concluded the younger officer. -But they must have heard our leadsmen at least. We couldnt have passed -her more than fifty yards off. The closest shave! They may even have -made us out, since they were aware of something coming in. And the -strange thing is that we never heard a sound from her. The fellows on -board must have been holding their breath. - -Aye, said the commanding officer, thoughtfully. - -In due course the boarding-boat returned, appearing suddenly -alongside, as though she had burrowed her way under the fog. The officer -in charge came up to make his report, but the commanding officer didnt -give him time to begin. He cried from a distance: - -Coaster, isnt she? - -No, sir. A stranger--a neutral, was the answer. - -No. Really! Well, tell us all about it. What is she doing here? - -The young man stated then that he had been told a long and complicated -story of engine troubles. But it was plausible enough from a strictly -professional point of view and it had the usual features: disablement, -dangerous drifting along the shore, weather more or less thick for days, -fear of a gale, ultimately a resolve to go in and anchor anywhere on the -coast, and so on. Fairly plausible. - -Engines still disabled? inquired the commanding officer. - -No, sir. She has steam on them. - -The commanding officer took his second aside. By Jove! he said, you -were right! They were holding their breaths as we passed them. They -were. - -But the second in command had his doubts now. - -A fog like this does muffle small sounds, sir, he remarked. And what -could his object be, after all? - -To sneak out unnoticed, answered the commanding officer. - -Then why didnt he? He might have done it, you know. Not exactly -unnoticed, perhaps. I dont suppose he could have slipped his cable -without making some noise. Still, in a minute or so he would have been -lost to view--clean gone before we had made him out fairly. Yet he -didnt. - -They looked at each other. The commanding officer shook his head. -Such suspicions as the one which had entered his head are not defended -easily. He did not even state it openly. The boarding officer finished -his report. The cargo of the ship was of a harmless and useful -character. She was bound to an English port. Papers and everything in -perfect order. Nothing suspicious to be detected anywhere. - -Then passing to the men, he reported the crew on deck as the usual lot. -Engineers of the well-known type, and very full of their achievement in -repairing the engines. The mate surly. The master rather a fine specimen -of a Northman, civil enough, but appeared to have been drinking. Seemed -to be recover-ing from a regular bout of it. - -I told him I couldnt give him permission to proceed. He said he -wouldnt dare to move his ship her own length out in such weather as -this, permission or no permission. I left a man on board, though. - -Quite right. - -The commanding officer, after communing with his suspicions for a time, -called his second aside. - -What if she were the very ship which had been feeding some infernal -submarine or other? he said in an undertone. - -The other started. Then, with conviction: - -She would get off scot-free. You couldnt prove it, sir. - -I want to look into it myself. - -From the report weve heard I am afraid you couldnt even make a case -for reasonable suspicion, sir. - -Ill go on board all the same. - -He had made up his mind. Curiosity is the great motive power of -hatred and love. What did he expect to find? He could not have told -anybody--not even himself. - -What he really expected to find there was the atmosphere, the -atmosphere of gratuitous treachery, which in his view nothing could -excuse; for he thought that even a passion of unrighteousness for its -own sake could not excuse that. But could he detect it? Sniff it? -Taste it? Receive some mysterious communication which would turn his -invincible suspicions into a certitude strong enough to provoke action -with all its risks? - -The master met him on the after-deck, looming up in the fog amongst the -blurred shapes of the usual snips fittings. He was a robust Northman, -bearded, and in the force of his age. A round leather cap fitted his -head closely. His hands were rammed deep into the pockets of his short -leather jacket. He kept them there while lie explained that at sea he -lived in the chart-room, and led the way there, striding carelessly. -Just before reaching the door under the bridge he staggered a little, -recovered himself, flung it open, and stood aside, leaning his shoulder -as if involuntarily against the side of the house, and staring vaguely -into the fog-filled space. But he followed the commanding officer at -once, flung the door to, snapped on the electric light, and hastened to -thrust his hands back into his pockets, as though afraid of being seized -by them either in friendship or in hostility. - -The place was stuffy and hot. The usual chart-rack overhead was full, -and the chart on the table was kept unrolled by an empty cup standing on -a saucer half-full of some spilt dark liquid. A slightly nibbled biscuit -reposed on the chronometer-case. There were two settees, and one of them -had been made up into a bed with a pillow and some blankets, which were -now very much tumbled. The Northman let himself fall on it, his hands -still in his pockets. - -Well, here I am, he said, with a curious air of being surprised at -the sound of his own voice. - -The commanding officer from the other settee observed the handsome, -flushed face. Drops of fog hung on the yellow beard and moustaches of -the Northman. The much darker eyebrows ran together in a puzzled frown, -and suddenly he jumped up. - -What I mean is that I dont know where I am. I really dont, he -burst out, with extreme earnestness. Hang it all! I got turned around -somehow. The fog has been after me for a week. More than a week. And -then my engines broke down. I will tell you how it was. - -He burst out into loquacity. It was not hurried, but it was insistent. -It was not continuous for all that. It was broken by the most queer, -thoughtful pauses. Each of these pauses lasted no more than a couple of -seconds, and each had the profoundity of an endless meditation. When he -began again nothing betrayed in him the slightest consciousness of -these intervals. There was the same fixed glance, the same unchanged -earnestness of tone. He didnt know. Indeed, more than one of these -pauses occurred in the middle of a sentence. - -The commanding officer listened to the tale. It struck him as more -plausible than simple truth is in the habit of being. But that, perhaps, -was prejudice. All the time the Northman was speaking the commanding -officer had been aware of an inward voice, a grave murmur in the depth -of his very own self, telling another tale, as if on purpose to keep -alive in him his indignation and his anger with that baseness of greed -or of mere outlook which lies often at the root of simple ideas. - -It was the story that had been already told to the boarding officer -an hour or so before. The commanding officer nodded slightly at the -Northman from time to time. The latter came to an end and turned his -eyes away. He added, as an afterthought: - -Wasnt it enough to drive a man out of his mind with worry? And its my -first voyage to this part, too. And the ships my own. Your officer has -seen the papers. She isnt much, as you can see for yourself. Just an -old cargo-boat. Bare living for my family. - -He raised a big arm to point at a row of photographs plastering the -bulkhead. The movement was ponderous, as if the arm had been made of -lead. The commanding officer said, carelessly: - -You will be making a fortune yet for your family with this old ship. - -Yes, if I dont lose her, said the Northman, gloomily. - -I mean--out of this war, added the commanding officer. - -The Northman stared at him in a curiously unseeing and at the same time -interested manner, as only eyes of a particular blue shade can stare. - -And you wouldnt be angry at it, he said, would you? You are too -much of a gentleman. We didnt bring this on you. And suppose we sat -down and cried. What good would that be? Let those cry who made -the trouble, he concluded, with energy. Times money, you say. -Well--_this_ time _is_ money. Oh! isnt it! - -The commanding officer tried to keep under the feeling of immense -disgust. He said to himself that it was unreasonable. Men were like -that--moral cannibals feeding on each others misfortunes. He said -aloud: - -You have made it perfectly plain how it is that you are here. Your -log-book confirms you very minutely. Of course, a log-book may be -cooked. Nothing easier. - -The Northman never moved a muscle. He was gazing at the floor; he -seemed not to have heard. He raised his head after a while. - -But you cant suspect me of anything, he muttered, negligently. - -The commanding officer thought: Why should he say this? - -Immediately afterwards the man before him added: My cargo is for an -English port. - -His voice had turned husky for the moment. The commanding officer -reflected: Thats true. There can be nothing. I cant suspect him. Yet -why was he lying with steam up in this fog--and then, hearing us come -in, why didnt he give some sign of life? Why? Could it be anything else -but a guilty conscience? He could tell by the leadsmen that this was a -man-of-war. - -Yes--why? The commanding officer went on thinking: Suppose I ask -him and then watch his face. He will betray himself in some way. Its -perfectly plain that the fellow _has_ been drinking. Yes, he has been -drinking; but he will have a lie ready all the same. The commanding -officer was one of those men who are made morally and almost physically -uncomfortable by the mere thought of having to beat down a lie. He -shrank from the act in scorn and disgust, which were invincible because -more temperamental than moral. - -So he went out on deck instead and had the crew mustered formally for -his inspection. He found them very much what the report of the boarding -officer had led him to expect. And from their answers to his questions -he could discover no flaw in the log-book story. - -He dismissed them. His impression of them was--a picked lot; have been -promised a fistful of money each if this came off; all slightly anxious, -but not frightened. Not a single one of them likely to give the show -away. They dont feel in danger of their life. They know England and -English ways too well! - -He felt alarmed at catching himself thinking as if his vaguest -suspicions were turning into a certitude. For, indeed, there was no -shadow of reason for his inferences. There was nothing to give away. - -He returned to the chart-room. The Northman had lingered behind there; -and something subtly different in his bearing, more bold in his blue, -glassy stare, induced the commanding officer to conclude that the fellow -had snatched at the opportunity to take another swig at the bottle he -must have had concealed somewhere. - -He noticed, too, that the Northman on meeting his eyes put on an -elaborately surprised expression. At least, it seemed elaborated. -Nothing could be trusted. And the Englishman felt himself with -astonishing conviction faced by an enormous lie, solid like a wall, with -no way round to get at the truth, whose ugly murderous face he seemed to -see peeping over at him with a cynical grin. - -I dare say, he began, suddenly, you are wondering at my proceedings, -though I am not detaining you, am I? You wouldnt dare to move in this -fog? - -I dont know where I am, the Northman ejaculated, earnestly. I -really dont. - -He looked around as if the very chart-room fittings were strange -to him. The commanding officer asked him whether he had not seen any -unusual objects floating about while he was at sea. - -Objects! What objects? We were groping blind in the fog for days. - -We had a few clear intervals said the commanding officer. And Ill -tell you what we have seen and the conclusion Ive come to about it. - -He told him in a few words. He heard the sound of a sharp breath -indrawn through closed teeth. The Northman with his hand on the table -stood absolutely motionless and dumb. He stood as if thunderstruck. Then -he produced a fatuous smile. - -Or at least so it appeared to the commanding officer. Was this -significant, or of no meaning whatever? He didnt know, he couldnt -tell. All the truth had departed out of the world as if drawn in, -absorbed in this monstrous villainy this man was--or was not--guilty of. - -Shootings too good for people that conceive neutrality in this pretty -way, remarked the commanding officer, after a silence. - -Yes, yes, yes, the Northman assented, hurriedly--then added an -unexpected and dreamy-voiced Perhaps. - -Was he pretending to be drunk, or only trying to appear sober? His -glance was straight, but it was somewhat glazed. His lips outlined -themselves firmly under his yellow moustache. But they twitched. Did -they twitch? And why was he drooping like this in his attitude? - -Theres no perhaps about it, pronounced the commanding officer -sternly. - -The Northman had straightened himself. And unexpectedly he looked -stern, too. - -No. But what about the tempters? Better kill that lot off. Theres -about four, five, six million of them, he said, grimly; but in a moment -changed into a whining key. But I had better hold my tongue. You have -some suspicions. - -No, Ive no suspicions, declared the commanding officer. - -He never faltered. At that moment he had the certitude. The air of the -chart-room was thick with guilt and falsehood braving the discovery, -defying simple right, common decency, all humanity of feeling, every -scruple of conduct. - -The Northman drew a long breath. Well, we know that you English are -gentlemen. But let us speak the truth. Why should we love you so very -much? You havent done anything to be loved. We dont love the other -people, of course. They havent done anything for that either. A fellow -comes along with a bag of gold... I havent been in Rotterdam my last -voyage for nothing. - -You may be able to tell something interesting, then, to our people -when you come into port, interjected the officer. - -I might. But you keep some people in your pay at Rotterdam. Let them -report. I am a neutral--am I not?... Have you ever seen a poor man -on one side and a bag of gold on the other? Of course, I couldnt be -tempted. I havent the nerve for it. Really I havent. Its nothing to -me. I am just talking openly for once. - -Yes. And I am listening to you, said the commanding officer, quietly. - -The Northman leaned forward over the table. Now that I know you have -no suspicions, I talk. You dont know what a poor man is. I do. I am -poor myself. This old ship, she isnt much, and she is mortgaged, too. -Bare living, no more. Of course, I wouldnt have the nerve. But a man -who has nerve! See. The stuff he takes aboard looks like any other -cargo--packages, barrels, tins, copper tubes--what not. He doesnt see -it work. It isnt real to him. But he sees the gold. Thats real. Of -course, nothing could induce me. I suffer from an internal disease. I -would either go crazy from anxiety--or--or--take to drink or something. -The risk is too great. Why--ruin! - -It should be death. The commanding officer got up, after this curt -declaration, which the other received with a hard stare oddly combined -with an uncertain smile. The officers gorge rose at the atmosphere of -murderous complicity which surrounded him, denser, more impenetrable, -more acrid than the fog outside. - -Its nothing to me, murmured the Northman, swaying visibly. - -Of course not, assented the commanding officer, with a great effort -to keep his voice calm and low. The certitude was strong within him. -But I am going to clear all you fellows off this coast at once. And I -will begin with you. You must leave in half an hour. - -By that time the officer was walking along the deck with the Northman -at his elbow. - -What! In this fog? the latter cried out, huskily. - -Yes, you will have to go in this fog. - -But I dont know where I am. I really dont. - -The commanding officer turned round. A sort of fury possessed him. -The eyes of the two men met. Those of the Northman expressed a profound -amazement. - -Oh, you dont know how to get out. The commanding officer spoke with -composure, but his heart was beating with anger and dread. I will give -you your course. Steer south-by-east-half-east for about four miles -and then you will be clear to haul to the eastward for your port. The -weather will clear up before very long. - -Must I? What could induce me? I havent the nerve. - -And yet you must go. Unless you want to------ - -I dont want to, panted the Northman. Ive enough of it. - -The commanding officer got over the side. The Northman remained -still as if rooted to the deck. Before his boat reached his ship the -commanding officer heard the steamer beginning to pick up her anchor. -Then, shadowy in the fog, she steamed out on the given course. - -Yes, he said to his officers, I let him go. - -The narrator bent forward towards the couch, where no movement betrayed -the presence of a living person. - -Listen, he said, forcibly. That course would lead the Northman -straight on a deadly ledge of rock. And the commanding officer gave it -to him. He steamed out--ran on it--and went down. So he had spoken the -truth. He did not know where he was. But it proves nothing. Nothing -either way. It may have been the only truth in all his story. And yet... -He seems to have been driven out by a menacing stare--nothing more. - -He abandoned all pretence. - -Yes, I gave that course to him. It seemed to me a supreme test. I -believe--no, I dont believe. I dont know. At the time I was certain. -They all went down; and I dont know whether I have done stern -retribution--or murder; whether I have added to the corpses that litter -the bed of the unreadable sea the bodies of men completely innocent or -basely guilty. I dont know. I shall never know. - -He rose. The woman on the couch got up and threw her arms round his -neck. Her eyes put two gleams in the deep shadow of the room. She knew -his passion for truth, his horror of deceit, his humanity. - -Oh, my poor, poor------ - -I shall never know, he repeated, sternly, disengaged himself, pressed -her hands to his lips, and went out. - - - - - -THE BLACK MATE (1884) - - -A good many years ago there were several ships loading at the Jetty, -London Dock. I am speaking here of the eighties of the last century, of -the time when London had plenty of fine ships in the docks, though not -so many fine buildings in its streets. - -The ships at the Jetty were fine enough; they lay one behind the other; -and the __Sapphire__, third from the end, was as good as the rest of -them, and nothing more. Each ship at the Jetty had, of course, her chief -officer on board. So had every other ship in dock. - -The policeman at the gates knew them all by sight, without being able to -say at once, without thinking, to what ship any particular man belonged. -As a matter of fact, the mates of the ships then lying in the London -Dock were like the majority of officers in the Merchant Service--a -steady, hard-working, staunch, un-romantic-looking set of men, -belonging to various classes of society, but with the professional stamp -obliterating the personal characteristics, which were not very marked -anyhow. - -This last was true of them all, with the exception of the mate of the -_Sapphire_. Of him the policemen could not be in doubt. This one had a -presence. - -He was noticeable to them in the street from a great distance; and when -in the morning he strode down the Jetty to his ship, the lumpers and -the dock labourers rolling the bales and trundling the cases of cargo on -their hand-trucks would remark to each other: - -Heres the black mate coming along. - -That was the name they gave him, being a gross lot, who could have no -appreciation of the mans dignified bearing. And to call him black was -the superficial impressionism of the ignorant. - -Of course, Mr. Bunter, the mate of the _Sapphire_, was not black. He was -no more black than you or I, and certainly as white as any chief mate -of a ship in the whole of the Port of London. His complexion was of the -sort that did not take the tan easily; and I happen to know that -the poor fellow had had a months illness just before he joined the -_Sapphire_. - -From this you will perceive that I knew Bunter. Of course I knew -him. And, whats more, I knew his secret at the time, this secret -which--never mind just now. Returning to Bunters personal appearance, -it was nothing but ignorant prejudice on the part of the foreman -stevedore to say, as he did in my hearing: I bet hes a furriner of -some sort. A man may have black hair without being set down for a Dago. -I have known a West-country sailor, boatswain of a fine ship, who looked -more Spanish than any Spaniard afloat Ive ever met. He looked like a -Spaniard in a picture. - -Competent authorities tell us that this earth is to be finally the -inheritance of men with dark hair and brown eyes. It seems that already -the great majority of mankind is dark-haired in various shades. But -it is only when you meet one that you notice how men with really black -hair, black as ebony, are rare. Bunters hair was absolutely black, -black as a ravens wing. He wore, too, all his beard (clipped, but a -good length all the same), and his eyebrows were thick and bushy. Add -to this steely blue eyes, which in a fair-haired man would have been -nothing so extraordinary, but in that sombre framing made a startling -contrast, and you will easily understand that Bunter was noticeable -enough. - -If it had not been for the quietness of his movements, for the general -soberness of his demeanour, one would have given him credit for a -fiercely passionate nature. - -Of course, he was not in his first youth; but if the expression in the -force of his age has any meaning, he realized it completely. He was -a tall man, too, though rather spare. Seeing him from his poop -indefatigably busy with his duties, Captain Ashton, of the clipper -ship _Elsinore_, lying just ahead of the _Sapphire_, remarked once to a -friend that Johns has got somebody there to hustle his ship along for -him. - -Captain Johns, master of the _Sapphire_, having commanded ships for -many years, was well known without being much respected or liked. In the -company of his fellows he was either neglected or chaffed. The chaffing -was generally undertaken by Captain Ashton, a cynical and teasing sort -of man. It was Captain Ashton who permitted himself the unpleasant joke -of proclaiming once in company that Johns is of the opinion that every -sailor above forty years of age ought to be poisoned--shipmasters in -actual command excepted. - -It was in a City restaurant, where several well-known shipmasters were -having lunch together. There was Captain Ashton, florid and jovial, in a -large white waistcoat and with a yellow rose in his buttonhole; Captain -Sellers in a sack-coat, thin and pale-faced, with his iron-gray hair -tucked behind his ears, and, but for the absence of spectacles, looking -like an ascetical mild man of books; Captain Hell, a bluff sea-dog with -hairy fingers, in blue serge and a black felt hat pushed far back off -his crimson forehead. There was also a very young shipmaster, with -a little fair moustache and serious eyes, who said nothing, and only -smiled faintly from time to time. - -Captain Johns, very much startled, raised his perplexed and credulous -glance, which, together with a low and horizontally wrinkled brow, did -not make a very intellectual _ensemble_. This impression was by no means -mended by the slightly pointed form of his bald head. - -Everybody laughed outright, and, thus guided, Captain Johns ended by -smiling rather sourly, and attempted to defend himself. It was all very -well to joke, but nowadays, when ships, to pay anything at all, had to -be driven hard on the passage and in harbour, the sea was no place for -elderly men. Only young men and men in their prime were equal to modern -conditions of push and hurry. Look at the great firms: almost every -single one of them was getting rid of men showing any signs of age. He, -for one, didnt want any oldsters on board his ship. - -And, indeed, in this opinion Captain Johns was not singular. There was -at that time a lot of seamen, with nothing against them but that they -were grizzled, wearing out the soles of their last pair of boots on the -pavements of the City in the heart-breaking search for a berth. - -Captain Johns added with a sort of ill-humoured innocence that from -holding that opinion to thinking of poisoning people was a very long -step. - -This seemed final but Captain Ashton would not let go his joke. - -Oh, yes. I am sure you would. You said distinctly of no use. Whats -to be done with men who are of no use? You are a kind-hearted fellow, -Johns. I am sure that if only you thought it over carefully you would -consent to have them poisoned in some painless manner. - -Captain Sellers twitched his thin, sinuous lips. - -Make ghosts of them, he suggested, pointedly. - -At the mention of ghosts Captain Johns became shy, in his perplexed, -sly, and unlovely manner. - -Captain Ashton winked. - -Yes. And then perhaps you would get a chance to have a communication -with the world of spirits. Surely the ghosts of seamen should haunt -ships. Some of them would be sure to call on an old shipmate. - -Captain Sellers remarked drily: - -Dont raise his hopes like this. Its cruel. He wont see anything. You -know, Johns, that nobody has ever seen a ghost. - -At this intolerable provocation Captain Johns came out of his reserve. -With no perplexity whatever, but with a positive passion of credulity -giving momentary lustre to his dull little eyes, he brought up a lot of -authenticated instances. There were books and books full of instances. -It was merest ignorance to deny supernatural apparitions. Cases were -published every month in a special newspaper. Professor Cranks saw -ghosts daily. And Professor Cranks was no small potatoes either. One -of the biggest scientific men living. And there was that newspaper -fellow--whats his name?--who had a girl-ghost visitor. He printed in -his paper things she said to him. And to say there were no ghosts after -that! - -Why, they have been photographed! What more proof do you want? - -Captain Johns was indignant. Captain Bells lips twitched, but Captain -Ashton protested now. - -For goodness sake dont keep him going with that. And by the by, -Johns, whos that hairy pirate youve got for your new mate? Nobody in -the Dock seems to have seen him before. - -Captain Johns, pacified by the change of subjects, answered simply that -Willy, the tobacconist at the corner of Fenchurch Street, had sent him -along. - -Willy, his shop, and the very house in Fenchurch Street, I believe, are -gone now. In his time, wearing a careworn, absent-minded look on his -pasty face, Willy served with tobacco many southern-going ships out of -the Port of London. At certain times of the day the shop would be full -of shipmasters. They sat on casks, they lounged against the counter. - -Many a youngster found his first lift in life there; many a man got -a sorely needed berth by simply dropping in for four pennyworth of -birds-eye at an auspicious moment. Even Willys assistant, a redheaded, -uninterested, delicate-looking young fellow, would hand you across -the counter sometimes a bit of valuable intelligence with your box of -cigarettes, in a whisper, lips hardly moving, thus: The _Bellona_, -South Dock. Second officer wanted. You may be in time for it if you -hurry up. - -And didnt one just fly! - -Oh, Willy sent him, said Captain Ashton. Hes a very striking man. If -you were to put a red sash round his waist and a red handkerchief round -his head he would look exactly like one of them buccaneering chaps that -made men walk the plank and carried women off into captivity. Look out, -Johns, he dont cut your throat for you and run off with the _Sapphire_. -What ship has he come out of last? - -Captain Johns, after looking up credulously as usual, wrinkled his -brow, and said placidly that the man had seen better days. His name was -Bunter. - -Hes had command of a Liverpool ship, the _Samaria_, some years ago. He -lost her in the Indian Ocean, and had his certificate suspended for a -year. Ever since then he has not been able to get another command. Hes -been knocking about in the Western Ocean trade lately. - -That accounts for him being a stranger to everybody about the Docks, - Captain Ashton concluded as they rose from table. - -Captain Johns walked down to the Dock after lunch. He was short -of stature and slightly bandy. His appearance did not inspire the -generality of mankind with esteem; but it must have been otherwise -with his employers. He had the reputation of being an uncomfortable -commander, meticulous in trifles, always nursing a grievance of some -sort and incessantly nagging. He was not a man to kick up a row with you -and be done with it, but to say nasty things in a whining voice; a man -capable of making ones life a perfect misery if he took a dislike to an -officer. - -That very evening I went to see Bunter on board, and sympathized with -him on his prospects for the voyage. He was subdued. I suppose a man -with a secret locked up in his breast loses his buoyancy. And there was -another reason why I could not expect Bunter to show a great -elasticity of spirits. For one thing he had been very seedy lately, and -besides--but of that later. - -Captain Johns had been on board that afternoon and had loitered and -dodged about his chief mate in a manner which had annoyed Bunter -exceedingly. - -What could he mean? he asked with calm exasperation. One would think -he suspected I had stolen something and tried to see in what pocket I -had stowed it away; or that somebody told him I had a tail and he wanted -to find out how I managed to conceal it. I dont like to be approached -from behind several times in one afternoon in that creepy way and then -to be looked up at suddenly in front from under my elbow. Is it a new -sort of peep-bo game? It doesnt amuse me. I am no longer a baby. - -I assured him that if anyone were to tell Captain Johns that -he--Bunter--had a tail, Johns would manage to get himself to believe -the story in some mysterious manner. He would. He was suspicious and -credulous to an inconceivable degree. He would believe any silly tale, -suspect any man of anything, and crawl about with it and ruminate the -stuff, and turn it over and over in his mind in the most miserable, -inwardly whining perplexity. He would take the meanest possible view in -the end, and discover the meanest possible course of action by a sort of -natural genius for that sort of thing. - -Bunter also told me that the mean creature had crept all over the ship -on his little, bandy legs, taking him along to grumble and whine -to about a lot of trifles. Crept about the decks like a wretched -insect--like a cockroach, only not so lively. - -Thus did the self-possessed Bunter express himself with great disgust. -Then, going on with his usual stately deliberation, made sinister by the -frown of his jet-black eyebrows: - -And the fellow is mad, too. He tried to be sociable for a bit, and -could find nothing else but to make big eyes at me, and ask me if I -believed in communication beyond the grave. Communication beyond--I -didnt know what he meant at first. I didnt know what to say. A very -solemn subject, Mr. Bunter, says he. Ive given a great deal of study -to it. - -Had Johns lived on shore he would have been the predestined prey of -fraudulent mediums; or even if he had had any decent opportunities -between the voyages. Luckily for him, when in England, he lived -somewhere far away in Leytonstone, with a maiden sister ten years older -than himself, a fearsome virago twice his size, before whom he trembled. -It was said she bullied him terribly in general; and in the particular -instance of his spiritualistic leanings she had her own views. - -These leanings were to her simply satanic. She was reported as having -declared that, With Gods help, she would prevent that fool from -giving himself up to the Devils. It was beyond doubt that Johns secret -ambition was to get into personal communication with the spirits of the -dead--if only his sister would let him. But she was adamant. I was told -that while in London he had to account to her for every penny of the -money he took with him in the morning, and for every hour of his time. -And she kept the bankbook, too. - -Bunter (he had been a wild youngster, but he was well connected; -had ancestors; there was a family tomb somewhere in the home -counties)--Bunter was indignant, perhaps on account of his own dead. -Those steely-blue eyes of his flashed with positive ferocity out of that -black-bearded face. He impressed me--there was so much dark passion in -his leisurely contempt. - -The cheek of the fellow! Enter into relations with... A mean little cad -like this! It would be an impudent intrusion. He wants to enter!... What -is it? A new sort of snobbishness or what? - -I laughed outright at this original view of spiritism--or whatever the -ghost craze is called. Even Bunter himself condescended to smile. But it -was an austere, quickly vanished smile. A man in his almost, I may say, -tragic position couldnt be expected--you understand. He was really -worried. He was ready eventually to put up with any dirty trick in the -course of the voyage. A man could not expect much consideration should -he find himself at the mercy of a fellow like Johns. A misfortune is -a misfortune, and theres an end of it. But to be bored by mean, -low-spirited, inane ghost stories in the Johns style, all the way out -to Calcutta and back again, was an intolerable apprehension to be under. -Spiritism was indeed a solemn subject to think about in that light. -Dreadful, even! - -Poor fellow! Little we both thought that before very long he himself... -However, I could give him no comfort. I was rather appalled myself. - -Bunter had also another annoyance that day. A confounded berthing master -came on board on some pretence or other, but in reality, Bunter thought, -simply impelled by an inconvenient curiosity--inconvenient to Bunter, -that is. After some beating about the bush, that man suddenly said: - -I cant help thinking. Ive seen you before somewhere, Mr. Mate. If I -heard your name, perhaps Bunter-- - -Thats the worst of a life with a mystery in it--he was much alarmed. It -was very likely that the man had seen him before--worse luck to his -excellent memory. Bunter himself could not be expected to remember every -casual dock walloper he might have had to do with. Bunter brazened it -out by turning upon the man, making use of that impressive, -black-as-night sternness of expression his unusual hair furnished -him with: - -My names Bunter, sir. Does that enlighten your inquisitive intellect? -And I dont ask what your name may be. I dont want to know. Ive no -use for it, sir. An individual who calmly tells me to my face that he is -_not sure_ if he has seen me before, either means to be impudent or is -no better than a worm, sir. Yes, I said a worm--a blind worm! - -Brave Bunter. That was the line to take. He fairly drove the beggar out -of the ship, as if every word had been a blow. But the pertinacity of -that brass-bound Paul Pry was astonishing. He cleared out of the ship, -of course, before Bunters ire, not saying anything, and only trying to -cover up his retreat by a sickly smile. But once on the Jetty he turned -deliberately round, and set himself to stare in dead earnest at -the ship. He remained planted there like a mooring-post, absolutely -motionless, and with his stupid eyes winking no more than a pair of -cabin portholes. - -What could Bunter do? It was awkward for him, you know. He could not -go and put his head into the bread-locker. What he did was to take up -a position abaft the mizzen-rigging, and stare back as unwinking as -the other. So they remained, and I dont know which of them grew giddy -first; but the man on the Jetty, not having the advantage of something -to hold on to, got tired the soonest, flung his arm, giving the contest -up, as it were, and went away at last. - -Bunter told me he was glad the _Sapphire_, that gem amongst ships as -he alluded to her sarcastically, was going to sea next day. He had had -enough of the Dock. I understood his impatience. He had steeled himself -against any possible worry the voyage might bring, though it is clear -enough now that he was not prepared for the extraordinary experience -that was awaiting him already, and in no other part of the world than -the Indian Ocean itself; the very part of the world where the poor -fellow had lost his ship and had broken his luck, as it seemed for good -and all, at the same time. - -As to his remorse in regard to a certain secret action of his life, -well, I understand that a man of Bunters fine character would suffer -not a little. Still, between ourselves, and without the slightest wish -to be cynical, it cannot be denied that with the noblest of us the fear -of being found out enters for some considerable part into the composition -of remorse. I didnt say this in so many words to Bunter, but, as the -poor fellow harped a bit on it, I told him that there were skeletons in -a good many honest cupboards, and that, as to his own particular guilt, -it wasnt writ large on his face for everybody to see--so he neednt -worry as to that. And besides, he would be gone to sea in about twelve -hours from now. - -He said there was some comfort in that thought, and went off then -to spend his last evening for many months with his wife. For all his -wildness, Bunter had made no mistake in his marrying. He had married a -lady. A perfect lady. She was a dear little woman, too. As to her pluck, -I, who know what times they had to go through, I cannot admire her -enough for it. Real, hard-wearing every day and day after day pluck that -only a woman is capable of when she is of the right sort--the undismayed -sort I would call it. - -The black mate felt this parting with his wife more than any of -the previous ones in all the years of bad luck. But she was of the -undismayed kind, and showed less trouble in her gentle face than the -black-haired, buccaneer-like, but dignified mate of the _Sapphire_. It -may be that her conscience was less disturbed than her husbands. Of -course, his life had no secret places for her; but a womans conscience -is somewhat more resourceful in finding good and valid excuses. It -depends greatly on the person that needs them, too. - -They had agreed that she should not come down to the Dock to see him -off. I wonder you care to look at me at all, said the sensitive man. -And she did not laugh. - -Bunter was very sensitive; he left her rather brusquely at the last. -He got on board in good time, and produced the usual impression on the -mud-pilot in the broken-down straw hat who took the _Sapphire_ out of -dock. The river-man was very polite to the dignified, striking-looking -chief mate. The five-inch manilla for the check-rope, Mr.--Bunter, -thank you--Mr. Bunter, please. The sea-pilot who left the gem of -ships heading comfortably down Channel off Dover told some of his -friends that, this voyage, the _Sapphire_ had for chief mate a man -who seemed a jolly sight too good for old Johns. Bunters his name. -I wonder where hes sprung from? Never seen him before in any ship -I piloted in or out all these years. Hes the sort of man you dont -forget. You couldnt. A thorough good sailor, too. And wont old Johns -just worry his head off! Unless the old fool should take fright at -him--for he does not seem the sort of man that would let himself be put -upon without letting you know what he thinks of you. And thats exactly -what old Johns would be more afraid of than of anything else. - -As this is really meant to be the record of a spiritualistic experience -which came, if not precisely to Captain Johns himself, at any rate to -his ship, there is no use in recording the other events of the passage -out. It was an ordinary passage, the crew was an ordinary crew, the -weather was of the usual kind. The black mates quiet, sedate method of -going to work had given a sober tone to the life of the ship. Even in -gales of wind everything went on quietly somehow. - -There was only one severe blow which made things fairly lively for all -hands for full four-and-twenty hours. That was off the coast of Africa, -after passing the Cape of Good Hope. At the very height of it several -heavy seas were shipped with no serious results, but there was a -considerable smashing of breakable objects in the pantry and in the -staterooms. Mr. Bunter, who was so greatly respected on board, found -himself treated scurvily by the Southern Ocean, which, bursting open the -door of his room like a ruffianly burglar, carried off several useful -things, and made all the others extremely wet. - -Later, on the same day, the Southern Ocean caused the _Sapphire_ to -lurch over in such an unrestrained fashion that the two drawers fitted -under Mr. Bunters sleeping-berth flew out altogether, spilling all -their contents. They ought, of course, to have been locked, and Mr. -Bunter had only to thank himself for what had happened. He ought to have -turned the key on each before going out on deck. - -His consternation was very great. The steward, who was paddling about -all the time with swabs, trying to dry out the flooded cuddy, heard him -exclaim Hallo! in a startled and dismayed tone. In the midst of his -work the steward felt a sympathetic concern for the mates distress. - -Captain Johns was secretly glad when he heard of the damage. He was -indeed afraid of his chief mate, as the sea-pilot had ventured to -foretell, and afraid of him for the very reason the sea-pilot had put -forward as likely. - -Captain Johns, therefore, would have liked very much to hold that -black mate of his at his mercy in some way or other. But the man was -irreproachable, as near absolute perfection as could be. And Captain -Johns was much annoyed, and at the same time congratulated himself on -his chief officers efficiency. - -He made a great show of living sociably with him, on the principle that -the more friendly you are with a man the more easily you may catch him -tripping; and also for the reason that he wanted to have somebody who -would listen to his stories of manifestations, apparitions, ghosts, and -all the rest of the imbecile spook-lore. He had it all at his fingers -ends; and he spun those ghostly yarns in a persistent, colourless voice, -giving them a futile turn peculiarly his own. - -I like to converse with my officers, he used to say. There are -masters that hardly ever open their mouths from beginning to end of a -passage for fear of losing their dignity. Whats that, after all--this -bit of position a man holds! - -His sociability was most to be dreaded in the second dog-watch, because -he was one of those men who grow lively towards the evening, and the -officer on duty was unable then to find excuses for leaving the poop. -Captain Johns would pop up the companion suddenly, and, sidling up in -his creeping way to poor Bunter, as he walked up and down, would fire -into him some spiritualistic proposition, such as: - -Spirits, male and female, show a good deal of refinement in a general -way, dont they? - -To which Bunter, holding his black-whiskered head high, would mutter: - -I dont know. - -Ah! thats because you dont want to. You are the most obstinate, -prejudiced man Ive ever met, Mr. Bunter. I told you you may have any -book out of my bookcase. You may just go into my stateroom and help -yourself to any volume. - -And if Bunter protested that he was too tired in his watches below to -spare any time for reading, Captain Johns would smile nastily behind -his back, and remark that of course some people needed more sleep than -others to keep themselves fit for their work. If Mr. Bunter was afraid -of not keeping properly awake when on duty at night, that was another -matter. - -But I think you borrowed a novel to read from the second mate the other -day--a trashy pack of lies, Captain Johns sighed. I am afraid you are -not a spiritually minded man, Mr. Bunter. Thats whats the matter. - -Sometimes he would appear on deck in the middle of the night, looking -very grotesque and bandy-legged in his sleeping suit. At that sight the -persecuted Bunter would wring his hands stealthily, and break out into -moisture all over his forehead. After standing sleepily by the binnacle, -scratching himself in an unpleasant manner, Captain Johns was sure to -start on some aspect or other of his only topic. - -He would, for instance, discourse on the improvement of morality to be -expected from the establishment of general and close intercourse with -the spirits of the departed. The spirits, Captain Johns thought, would -consent to associate familiarly with the living if it were not for the -unbelief of the great mass of mankind. He himself would not care to -have anything to do with a crowd that would not believe in his--Captain -Johns--existence. Then why should a spirit? This was asking too much. - -He went on breathing hard by the binnacle and trying to reach round his -shoulder-blades; then, with a thick, drowsy severity, declared: - -Incredulity, sir, is the evil of the age! - -It rejected the evidence of Professor Cranks and of the journalist chap. -It resisted the production of photographs. - -For Captain Johns believed firmly that certain spirits had been -photographed. He had read something of it in the papers. And the idea of -it having been done had got a tremendous hold on him, because his mind -was not critical. Bunter said afterwards that nothing could be more -weird than this little man, swathed in a sleeping suit three sizes -too large for him, shuffling with excitement in the moonlight near the -wheel, and shaking his fist at the serene sea. - -Photographs! photographs! he would repeat, in a voice as creaky as a -rusty hinge. - -The very helmsman just behind him got uneasy at that performance, not -being capable of understanding exactly what the old man was kicking up -a row with the mate about. - -Then Johns, after calming down a bit, would begin again. - -The sensitised plate cant lie. No, sir. - -Nothing could be more funny than this ridiculous little mans -conviction--his dogmatic tone. Bunter would go on swinging up and down -the poop like a deliberate, dignified pendulum. He said not a word. But -the poor fellow had not a trifle on his conscience, as you know; and to -have imbecile ghosts rammed down his throat like this on top of his own -worry nearly drove him crazy. He knew that on many occasions he was -on the verge of lunacy, because he could not help indulging in -half-delirious visions of Captain Johns being picked up by the scruff of -the neck and dropped over the taffrail into the ships wake--the sort -of thing no sane sailorman would think of doing to a cat or any other -animal, anyhow. He imagined him bobbing up--a tiny black speck left far -astern on the moonlit ocean. - -I dont think that even at the worst moments Bunter really desired to -drown Captain Johns. I fancy that all his disordered imagination longed -for was merely to stop the ghostly inanity of the skippers talk. - -But, all the same, it was a dangerous form of self-indulgence. Just -picture to yourself that ship in the Indian Ocean, on a clear, tropical -night, with her sails full and still, the watch on deck stowed away out -of sight; and on her poop, flooded with moonlight, the stately black -mate walking up and down with measured, dignified steps, preserving -an awful silence, and that grotesquely mean little figure in striped -flannelette alternately creaking and droning of personal intercourse -beyond the grave. - -It makes me creepy all over to think of. And sometimes the folly of -Captain Johns would appear clothed in a sort of weird utilitarianism. -How useful it would be if the spirits of the departed could be induced -to take a practical interest in the affairs of the living! What a help, -say, to the police, for instance, in the detection of crime! The number -of murders, at any rate, would be considerably reduced, he guessed -with an air of great sagacity. Then he would give way to grotesque -discouragement. - -Where was the use of trying to communicate with people that had no -faith, and more likely than not would scorn the offered information? -Spirits had their feelings. They were _all_ feelings in a way. But -he was surprised at the forbearance shown towards murderers by their -victims. That was the sort of apparition that no guilty man would dare -to pooh-pooh. And perhaps the undiscovered murderers--whether believing -or not--were haunted. They wouldnt be likely to boast about it, would -they? - -For myself, he pursued, in a sort of vindictive, malevolent whine, if -anybody murdered me I would not let him forget it. I would wither him -up--I would terrify him to death. - -The idea of his skippers ghost terrifying anyone was so ludicrous -that the black mate, little disposed to mirth as he was, could not help -giving vent to a weary laugh. - -And this laugh, the only acknowledgment of a long and earnest discourse, -offended Captain Johns. - -Whats there to laugh at in this conceited manner, Mr. Bunter? he -snarled. Supernatural visitations have terrified better men than you. -Dont you allow me enough soul to make a ghost of? - -I think it was the nasty tone that caused Bunter to stop short and turn -about. - -I shouldnt wonder, went on the angry fanatic of spiritism, if you -werent one of them people that take no more account of a man than if -he were a beast. You would be capable, I dont doubt, to deny the -possession of an immortal soul to your own father. - -And then Bunter, being bored beyond endurance, and also exasperated by -the private worry, lost his self-possession. - -He walked up suddenly to Captain Johns, and, stooping a little to look -close into his face, said, in a low, even tone: - -You dont know what a man like me is capable of. - -Captain Johns threw his head back, but was too astonished to budge. -Bunter resumed his walk; and for a long time his measured footsteps and -the low wash of the water alongside were the only sounds which troubled -the silence brooding over the great waters. Then Captain Johns cleared -his throat uneasily, and, after sidling away towards the companion for -greater safety, plucked up enough courage to retreat under an act of -authority: - -Raise the starboard clew of the mainsail, and lay the yards dead -square, Mr. Bunter. Dont you see the wind is nearly right aft? - -Bunter at once answered Ay, ay, sir, though there was not the -slightest necessity to touch the yards, and the wind was well out on -the quarter. While he was executing the order Captain Johns hung on the -companion-steps, growling to himself: Walk this poop like an admiral -and dont even notice when the yards want trimming!--loud enough for -the helmsman to overhear. Then he sank slowly backwards out of the mans -sight; and when he reached the bottom of the stairs he stood still and -thought. - -Hes an awful ruffian, with all his gentlemanly airs. No more gentleman -mates for me. - -Two nights afterwards he was slumbering peacefully in his berth, when a -heavy thumping just above his head (a well-understood signal that he was -wanted on deck) made him leap out of bed, broad awake in a moment. - -Whats up? he muttered, running out barefooted. On passing through the -cabin he glanced at the clock. It was the middle watch. What on earth -can the mate want me for? he thought. - -Bolting out of the companion, he found a clear, dewy moonlit night and a -strong, steady breeze. He looked around wildly. There was no one on the -poop except the helmsman, who addressed him at once. - -It was me, sir. I let go the wheel for a second to stamp over your -head. I am afraid theres something wrong with the mate. - -Wheres he got to? asked the captain sharply. - -The man, who was obviously nervous, said: - -The last I saw of him was as he-fell down the port poop-ladder. - -Fell down the poop-ladder! What did he do that for? What made him? - -I dont know, sir. He was walking the port side. Then just as he turned -towards me to come aft... - -You saw him? interrupted the captain. - -I did. I was looking at him. And I heard the crash, too--something -awful. Like the mainmast going overboard. It was as if something had -struck him. - -Captain Johns became very uneasy and alarmed. Come, he said sharply. -Did anybody strike him? What did you see? - -Nothing, sir, so help me! There was nothing to see. He just gave -a little sort of hallo! threw his hands before him, and over he -went--crash. I couldnt hear anything more, so I just let go the wheel -for a second to call you up. - -Youre scared! said Captain Johns. I am, sir, straight! - -Captain Johns stared at him. The silence of his ship driving on her way -seemed to contain a danger--a mystery. He was reluctant to go and look -for his mate himself, in the shadows of the main-deck, so quiet, so -still. - -All he did was to advance to the break of the poop, and call for the -watch. As the sleepy men came trooping aft, he shouted to them fiercely: - -Look at the foot of the port poop-ladder, some of you! See the mate -lying there? - -Their startled exclamations told him immediately that they did see him. -Somebody even screeched out emotionally: Hes dead! - -Mr. Bunter was laid in his bunk and when the lamp in his room was lit -he looked indeed as if he were dead, but it was obvious also that he was -breathing yet. The steward had been roused out, the second mate called -and sent on deck to look after the ship, and for an hour or so Captain -Johns devoted himself silently to the restoring of consciousness. Mr. -Bunter at last opened his eyes, but he could not speak. He was dazed and -inert. The steward bandaged a nasty scalp-wound while Captain Johns -held an additional light. They had to cut away a lot of Mr. Bunters -jet-black hair to make a good dressing. This done, and after gazing for -a while at their patient, the two left the cabin. - -A rum go, this, steward, said Captain Johns in the passage. - -Yessir. - -A sober man thats right in his head does not fall down a poop-ladder -like a sack of potatoes. The ships as steady as a church. - -Yessir. Fit of some kind, I shouldnt wonder. - -Well, I should. He doesnt look as if he were subject to fits and -giddiness. Why, the mans in the prime of life. I wouldnt have another -kind of mate--not if I knew it. You dont think he has a private store -of liquor, do you, eh? He seemed to me a bit strange in his manner -several times lately. Off his feed, too, a bit, I noticed. - -Well, sir, if he ever had a bottle or two of grog in his cabin, that -must have gone a long time ago. I saw him throw some broken glass -overboard after the last gale we had; but that didnt amount to -anything. Anyway, sir, you couldnt call Mr. Bunter a drinking man. - -No, conceded the captain, reflectively. And the steward, locking -the pantry door, tried to escape out of the passage, thinking he could -manage to snatch another hour of sleep before it was time for him to -turn out for the day. - -Captain Johns shook his head. - -Theres some mystery there. - -Theres special Providence that he didnt crack his head like an -eggshell on the quarter-deck mooring-bits, sir. The men tell me he -couldnt have missed them by more than an inch. - -And the steward vanished skilfully. - -Captain Johns spent the rest of the night and the whole of the ensuing -day between his own room and that of the mate. - -In his own room he sat with his open hands reposing on his knees, his -lips pursed up, and the horizontal furrows on his forehead marked -very heavily. Now and then raising his arm by a slow, as if cautious -movement, he scratched lightly the top of his bald head. In the mates -room he stood for long periods of time with his hand to his lips, gazing -at the half-conscious man. - -For three days Mr. Bunter did not say a single word. He looked at people -sensibly enough but did not seem to be able to hear any questions put -to him. They cut off some more of his hair and swathed his head in -wet cloths. He took some nourishment, and was made as comfortable as -possible. At dinner on the third day the second mate remarked to the -captain, in connection with the affair: - -These half-round brass plates on the steps of the poop-ladders are -beastly dangerous things! - -Are they? retorted Captain Johns, sourly. It takes more than a brass -plate to account for an able-bodied man crashing down in this fashion -like a felled ox. - -The second mate was impressed by that view. There was something in that, -he thought. - -And the weather fine, everything dry, and the ship going along as -steady as a church! pursued Captain Johns, gruffly. - -As Captain Johns continued to look extremely sour, the second mate did -not open his lips any more during the dinner. Captain Johns was annoyed -and hurt by an innocent remark, because the fitting of the aforesaid -brass plates had been done at his suggestion only the voyage before, in -order to smarten up the appearance of the poop-ladders. - -On the fourth day Mr. Bunter looked decidedly better; very languid yet, -of course, but he heard and understood what was said to him, and even -could say a few words in a feeble voice. - -Captain Johns, coming in, contemplated him attentively, without much -visible sympathy. - -Well, can you give us your account of this accident, Mr. Bunter? - -Bunter moved slightly his bandaged head, and fixed his cold blue stare -on Captain Johns face, as if taking stock and appraising the value of -every feature; the perplexed forehead, the credulous eyes, the inane -droop of the mouth. And he gazed so long that Captain Johns grew -restive, and looked over his shoulder at the door. - -No accident, breathed out Bunter, in a peculiar tone. - -You dont mean to say youve got the falling sickness, said Captain -Johns. How would you call it signing as chief mate of a clipper ship -with a thing like that on you? - -Bunter answered him only by a sinister look. The skipper shuffled his -feet a little. - -Well, what made you have that tumble, then? - -Bunter raised himself a little, and, looking straight into Captain -Johns eyes said, in a very distinct whisper: - -You--were--right! - -He fell back and closed his eyes. Not a word more could Captain Johns -get out of him; and, the steward coming into the cabin, the skipper -withdrew. - -But that very night, unobserved, Captain Johns, opening the door -cautiously, entered again the mates cabin. He could wait no longer. The -suppressed eagerness, the excitement expressed in all his mean, creeping -little person, did not escape the chief mate, who was lying awake, -looking frightfully pulled down and perfectly impassive. - -You are coming to gloat over me, I suppose, said Bunter without -moving, and yet making a palpable hit. - -Bless my soul! exclaimed Captain Johns with a start, and assuming a -sobered demeanour. Theres a thing to say! - -Well, gloat, then! You and your ghosts, youve managed to get over a -live man. - -This was said by Bunter without stirring, in a low voice, and with not -much expression. - -Do you mean to say, inquired Captain Johns, in awe-struck whisper, -that you had a supernatural experience that night? You saw an -apparition, then, on board my ship? - -Reluctance, shame, disgust, would have been visible on poor Bunters -countenance if the great part of it had not been swathed up in -cotton-wool and bandages. His ebony eyebrows, more sinister than ever -amongst all that lot of white linen, came together in a frown as he made -a mighty effort to say: - -Yes, I have seen. - -The wretchedness in his eyes would have awakened the compassion of -any other man than Captain Johns. But Captain Johns was all agog with -triumphant excitement. He was just a little bit frightened, too. He -looked at that unbelieving scoffer laid low, and did not even dimly -guess at his profound, humiliating distress. He was not generally -capable of taking much part in the anguish of his fellow-creatures. This -time, moreover, he was excessively anxious to know what had happened. -Fixing his credulous eyes on the bandaged head, he asked, trembling -slightly: - -And did it--did it knock you down? - -Come! am I the sort of man to be knocked down by a ghost? protested -Bunter in a little stronger tone. Dont you remember what you said -yourself the other night? Better men than me------Ha! youll have to -look a long time before you find a better man for a mate of your ship. - -Captain Johns pointed a solemn finger at Bunters bedplace. - -Youve been terrified, he said. Thats whats the matter. Youve been -terrified. Why, even the man at the wheel was scared, though he couldnt -see anything. He _felt_ the supernatural. You are punished for your -incredulity, Mr. Bunter. You were terrified. - -And suppose I was, said Bunter. Do you know what I had seen? Can you -conceive the sort of ghost that would haunt a man like me? Do you think -it was a ladyish, afternoon call, another-cup-of-tea-please apparition -that visits your Professor Cranks and that journalist chap you are -always talking about? No; I cant tell you what it was like. Every man -has his own ghosts. You couldnt conceive... - -Bunter stopped, out of breath; and Captain Johns remarked, with the glow -of inward satisfaction reflected in his tone: - -Ive always thought you were the sort of man that was ready for -anything; from pitch-and-toss to wilful murder, as the saying goes. -Well, well! So you were terrified. - -I stepped back, said Bunter, curtly. I dont remember anything else. - -The man at the wheel told me you went backwards as if something had hit -you. - -It was a sort of inward blow, explained Bunter. Something too deep -for you, Captain Johns, to understand. Your life and mine havent been -the same. Arent you satisfied to see me converted? - -And you cant tell me any more? asked Captain Johns, anxiously. - -No, I cant. I wouldnt. It would be no use if I did. That sort of -experience must be gone through. Say I am being punished. Well, I take -my punishment, but talk of it I wont. - -Very well, said Captain Johns; you wont. But, mind, I can draw my -own conclusions from that. - -Draw what you like; but be careful what you say, sir. You dont terrify -me. _You_ arent a ghost. - -One word. Has it any connection with what you said to me on that last -night, when we had a talk together on spiritualism? - -Bunter looked weary and puzzled. - -What did I say? - -You told me that I couldnt know what a man like you was capable of. - -Yes, yes. Enough! - -Very good. I am fixed, then, remarked Captain Johns. All I say is -that I am jolly glad not to be you, though I would have given almost -anything for the privilege of personal communication with the world of -spirits. Yes, sir, but not in that way. - -Poor Bunter moaned pitifully. - -It has made me feel twenty years older. - -Captain Johns retired quietly. He was delighted to observe this -overbearing ruffian humbled to the dust by the moralizing agency of the -spirits. The whole occurrence was a source of pride and gratification; -and he began to feel a sort of regard for his chief mate. - -It is true that in further interviews Bunter showed himself very -mild and deferential. He seemed to cling to his captain for spiritual -protection. He used to send for him, and say, I feel so nervous, and -Captain Johns would stay patiently for hours in the hot little cabin, -and feel proud of the call. - -For Mr. Bunter was ill, and could not leave his berth for a good many -days. He became a convinced spiritualist, not enthusiastically--that -could hardly have been expected from him--but in a grim, unshakable way. -He could not be called exactly friendly to the disembodied inhabitants -of our globe, as Captain Johns was. But he was now a firm, if gloomy, -recruit of spiritualism. - -One afternoon, as the ship was already well to the north in the Gulf -of Bengal, the steward knocked at the door of the captains cabin, and -said, without opening it: - -The mate asks if you could spare him a moment, sir. He seems to be in a -state in there. - -Captain Johns jumped up from the couch at once. - -Yes. Tell him I am coming. - -He thought: Could it be possible there had been another spiritual -manifestation--in the daytime, too! - -He revelled in the hope. It was not exactly that, however. Still, -Bunter, whom he saw sitting collapsed in a chair--he had been up -for several days, but not on deck as yet--poor Bunter had something -startling enough to communicate. His hands covered his face. His legs -were stretched straight out, dismally. - -Whats the news now? croaked Captain Johns, not unkindly, because in -truth it always pleased him to see Bunter--as he expressed it--tamed. - -News! exclaimed the crushed sceptic through his hands. Ay, news -enough, Captain Johns. Who will be able to deny the awfulness, the -genuineness? Another man would have dropped dead. You want to know what -I had seen. All I can tell you is that since Ive seen it my hair is -turning white. - -Bunter detached his hands from his face, and they hung on each side of -his chair as if dead. He looked broken in the dusky cabin. - -You dont say! stammered out Captain Johns. Turned white! Hold on a -bit! Ill light the lamp! - -When the lamp was lit, the startling phenomenon could be seen plainly -enough. As if the dread, the horror, the anguish of the supernatural -were being exhaled through the pores of his skin, a sort of silvery mist -seemed to cling to the cheeks and the head of the mate. His short beard, -his cropped hair, were growing, not black, but gray--almost white. - -When Mr. Bunter, thin-faced and shaky, came on deck for duty, he -was clean-shaven, and his head was white. The hands were awe-struck. -Another man, they whispered to each other. It was generally and -mysteriously agreed that the mate had seen something, with the -exception of the man at the wheel at the time, who maintained that the -mate was struck by something. - -This distinction hardly amounted to a difference. On the other hand, -everybody admitted that, after he picked up his strength a bit, he -seemed even smarter in his movements than before. - -One day in Calcutta, Captain Johns, pointing out to a visitor his -white-headed chief mate standing by the main-hatch, was heard to say -oracularly: - -That mans in the prime of life. - -Of course, while Bunter was away, I called regularly on Mrs. Bunter -every Saturday, just to see whether she had any use for my services. It -was understood I would do that. She had just his half-pay to live on--it -amounted to about a pound a week. She had taken one room in a quiet -little square in the East End. - -And this was affluence to what I had heard that the couple were reduced -to for a time after Bunter had to give up the Western Ocean trade--he -used to go as mate of all sorts of hard packets after he lost his ship -and his luck together--it was affluence to that time when Bunter would -start at seven oclock in the morning with but a glass of hot water -and a crust of dry bread. It wont stand thinking about, especially for -those who know Mrs. Bunter. I had seen something of them, too, at that -time; and it just makes me shudder to remember what that born lady had -to put up with. Enough! - -Dear Mrs. Bunter used to worry a good deal after the _Sapphire_ left -for Calcutta. She would say to me: It must be so awful for poor -Winston--Winston is Bunters name--and I tried to comfort her the best -I could. Afterwards, she got some small children to teach in a family, -and was half the day with them, and the occupation was good for her. - -In the very first letter she had from Calcutta, Bunter told her he had -had a fall down the poop-ladder, and cut his head, but no bones broken, -thank God. That was all. Of course, she had other letters from him, but -that vagabond Bunter never gave me a scratch of the pen the solid eleven -months. I supposed, naturally, that everything was going on all right. -Who could imagine what was happening? - -Then one day dear Mrs. Bunter got a letter from a legal firm in the -City, advising her that her uncle was dead--her old curmudgeon of an -uncle--a retired stockbroker, a heartless, petrified antiquity that had -lasted on and on. He was nearly ninety, I believe; and if I were to meet -his venerable ghost this minute, I would try to take him by the throat -and strangle him. - -The old beast would never forgive his niece for marrying Bunter; and -years afterwards, when people made a point of letting him know that she -was in London, pretty nearly starving at forty years of age, he only -said: Serve the little fool right! I believe he meant her to starve. -And, lo and behold, the old cannibal died intestate, with no other -relatives but that very identical little fool. The Bunters were wealthy -people now. - -Of course, Mrs. Bunter wept as if her heart would break. In any other -woman it would have been mere hypocrisy. Naturally, too, she wanted to -cable the news to her Winston in Calcutta, but I showed her, _Gazette_ -in hand, that the ship was on the homeward-bound list for more than a -week already. So we sat down to wait, and talked meantime of dear old -Winston every day. There were just one hundred such days before the -_Sapphire_ got reported All well in the chops of the Channel by an -incoming mailboat. - -I am going to Dunkirk to meet him, says she. The _Sapphire_ had a -cargo of jute for Dunkirk. Of course, I had to escort the dear lady -in the quality of her ingenious friend. She calls me our ingenious -friend to this day; and Ive observed some people--strangers--looking -hard at me, for the signs of the ingenuity, I suppose. - -After settling Mrs. Bunter in a good hotel in Dunkirk, I walked down to -the docks--late afternoon it was--and what was my surprise to see the -ship actually fast alongside. Either Johns or Bunter, or both, must have -been driving her hard up Channel. Anyway, she had been in since the -day before last, and her crew was already paid off. I met two of -her apprenticed boys going off home on leave with their dunnage on a -Frenchmans barrow, as happy as larks, and I asked them if the mate was -on board. - -There he is, on the quay, looking at the moorings, says one of the -youngsters as he skipped past me. - -You may imagine the shock to my feelings when I beheld his white head. I -could only manage to tell him that his wife was at an hotel in town. -He left me at once, to go and get his hat on board. I was mightily -surprised by the smartness of his movements as he hurried up the -gangway. - -Whereas the black mate struck people as deliberate, and strangely -stately in his gait for a man in the prime of life, this white-headed -chap seemed the most wonderfully alert of old men. I dont suppose -Bunter was any quicker on his pins than before. It was the colour of the -hair that made all the difference in ones judgment. - -The same with his eyes. Those eyes, that looked at you so steely, so -fierce, and so fascinating out of a bush of a buccaneers black hair, -now had an innocent almost boyish expression in their good-humoured -brightness under those white eyebrows. - -I led him without any delay into Mrs. Bunters private sitting-room. -After she had dropped a tear over the late cannibal, given a hug to her -Winston, and told him that he must grow his moustache again, the dear -lady tucked her feet upon the sofa, and I got out of Bunters way. - -He started at once to pace the room, waving his long arms. He worked -himself into a regular frenzy, and tore Johns limb from limb many times -over that evening. - -Fell down? Of course I fell down, by slipping backwards on that fools -patent brass plates. Pon my word, I had been walking that poop in -charge of the ship, and I didnt know whether I was in the Indian Ocean -or in the moon. I was crazy. My head spun round and round with sheer -worry. I had made my last application of your chemists wonderful -stuff. (This to me.) All the store of bottles you gave me got smashed -when those drawers fell out in the last gale. I had been getting some -dry things to change, when I heard the cry: All hands on deck! and -made one jump of it, without even pushing them in properly. Ass! When I -came back and saw the broken glass and the mess, I felt ready to faint. - -No; look here--deception is bad; but not to be able to keep it up after -one has been forced into it. You know that since Ive been squeezed -out of the Western Ocean packets by younger men, just on account of my -grizzled muzzle--you know how much chance I had to ever get a ship. And -not a soul to turn to. We have been a lonely couple, we two--she threw -away everything for me--and to see her want a piece of dry bread------ - -He banged with his fist fit to split the Frenchmans table in two. - -I would have turned a sanguinary pirate for her, let alone cheating -my way into a berth by dyeing my hair. So when you came to me with your -chemists wonderful stuff------ - -He checked himself. - -By the way, that fellows got a fortune when he likes to pick it up. It -is a wonderful stuff--you tell him salt water can do nothing to it. It -stays on as long as your hair will. - -All right, I said. Go on. - -Thereupon he went for Johns again with a fury that frightened his wife, -and made me laugh till I cried. - -Just you try to think what it would have meant to be at the mercy of -the meanest creature that ever commanded a ship! Just fancy what a life -that crawling Johns would have led me! And I knew that in a week or so -the white hair would begin to show. And the crew. Did you ever think of -that? To be shown up as a low fraud before all hands. What a life for me -till we got to Calcutta! And once there--kicked out, of course. Half-pay -stopped. Annie here alone without a penny--starving; and I on the other -side of the earth, ditto. You see? - -I thought of shaving twice a day. But could I shave my head, too? -No way--no way at all. Unless I dropped Johns overboard; and even -then------ - -Do you wonder now that with all these things boiling in my head I didnt -know where I was putting down my foot that night? I just felt myself -falling--then crash, and all dark. - -When I came to myself that bang on the head seemed to have steadied my -wits somehow. I was so sick of everything that for two days I wouldnt -speak to anyone. They thought it was a slight concussion of the brain. -Then the idea dawned upon me as I was looking at that ghost-ridden, -wretched fool. Ah, you love ghosts, I thought. Well, you shall have -something from beyond the grave. - -I didnt even trouble to invent a story. I couldnt imagine a ghost -if I wanted to. I wasnt fit to lie connectedly if I had tried. I just -bulled him on to it. Do you know, he got, quite by himself, a notion -that at some time or other I had done somebody to death in some way, and -that------ - -Oh, the horrible man! cried Mrs. Bunter from the sofa. There was a -silence. - -And didnt he bore my head off on the home passage! began Bunter again -in a weary voice. He loved me. He was proud of me. I was converted. I -had had a manifestation. Do you know what he was after? He wanted me and -him to make a _seance_, in his own words, and to try to call up that -ghost (the one that had turned my hair white--the ghost of my supposed -victim), and, as he said, talk it over with him--the ghost--in a -friendly way. - -Or else, Bunter, he says, you may get another manifestation when you -least expect it, and tumble overboard perhaps, or something. You aint -really safe till we pacify the spirit-world in some way. - -Can you conceive a lunatic like that? No--say? - -I said nothing. But Mrs. Bunter did, in a very decided tone. - -Winston, I dont want you to go on board that ship again any more. - -My dear, says he, I have all my things on board yet. - -You dont want the things. Dont go near that ship at all. - -He stood still; then, dropping his eyes with a faint smile, said slowly, -in a dreamy voice: - -The haunted ship. - -And your last, I added. - -We carried him off, as he stood, by the night train. He was very quiet; -but crossing the Channel, as we two had a smoke on deck, he turned to me -suddenly, and, grinding his teeth, whispered: - -Hell never know how near he was being dropped overboard! - -He meant Captain Johns. I said nothing. - -But Captain Johns, I understand, made a great to-do about the -disappearance of his chief mate. He set the French police scouring the -country for the body. In the end, I fancy he got word from his owners -office to drop all this fuss--that it was all right. I dont suppose he -ever understood anything of that mysterious occurrence. - -To this day he tries at times (hes retired now, and his conversation is -not very coherent)--he tries to tell the story of a black mate he once -had, a murderous, gentlemanly ruffian, with raven-black hair which -turned white all at once in consequence of a manifestation from beyond -the grave. An avenging apparition. What with reference to black and -white hair, to poop-ladders, and to his own feelings and views, it is -difficult to make head or tail of it. If his sister (shes very vigorous -still) should be present she cuts all this short--peremptorily: - -Dont you mind what he says. Hes got devils on the brain. - -THE END - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - -***** This file should be named 17732.txt or 17732.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/3/17732/ - -Produced by David Widger - -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. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/17732-8.zip b/old/17732-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f166fd7..0000000 --- a/old/17732-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/17732-h.zip b/old/17732-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5496b92..0000000 --- a/old/17732-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/17732-h/17732-h.htm b/old/17732-h/17732-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index b34fcd3..0000000 --- a/old/17732-h/17732-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4777 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <title> - Tales of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - </title> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -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: Tales Of Hearsay - -Author: Joseph Conrad - -Release Date: February 9, 2006 [EBook #17732] -Last Updated: March 2, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h1> - TALES OF HEARSAY - </h1> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h2> - BY JOSEPH CONRAD - </h2> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h4> - COPYRIGHT, 1911, 1917, 1918, <br /> BY THE METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE CO. <br /> - GARDEN CITY, N. Y. - </h4> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h2> - Contents - </h2> - <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE WARRIOR'S SOUL </a> - </td> - <td> - (1917) - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> PRINCE ROMAN</a> - </td> - <td> - (1911) - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE TALE</a> - </td> - <td> - (1917) - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE BLACK MATE</a> - </td> - <td> - (1884) - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - </td> - </tr> - </table> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - THE WARRIOR'S SOUL <br /> (1917) - </h2> - <p> - The old officer with long white moustaches gave rein to his indignation. - </p> - <p> - “Is it possible that you youngsters should have no more sense than that! - Some of you had better wipe the milk off your upper lip before you start - to pass judgment on the few poor stragglers of a generation which has done - and suffered not a little in its time.” - </p> - <p> - His hearers having expressed much compunction the ancient warrior became - appeased. But he was not silenced. - </p> - <p> - “I am one of them—one of the stragglers, I mean,” he went on - patiently. “And what did we do? What have we achieved? He—the great - Napoleon—started upon us to emulate the Macedonian Alexander, with a - ruck of nations at his back. We opposed empty spaces to French - impetuosity, then we offered them an interminable battle so that their - army went at last to sleep in its positions lying down on the heaps of its - own dead. Then came the wall of fire in Moscow. It toppled down on them. - </p> - <p> - “Then began the long rout of the Grand Army. I have seen it stream on, - like the doomed flight of haggard, spectral sinners across the innermost - frozen circle of Dante's Inferno, ever widening before their despairing - eyes. - </p> - <p> - “They who escaped must have had their souls doubly riveted inside their - bodies to carry them out of Russia through that frost fit to split rocks. - But to say that it was our fault that a single one of them got away is - mere ignorance. Why! Our own men suffered nearly to the limit of their - strength. Their Russian strength! - </p> - <p> - “Of course our spirit was not broken; and then our cause was good—it - was holy. But that did not temper the wind much to men and horses. - </p> - <p> - “The flesh is weak. Good or evil purpose, Humanity has to pay the price. - Why! In that very fight for that little village of which I have been - telling you we were fighting for the shelter of those old houses as much - as victory. And with the French it was the same. - </p> - <p> - “It wasn't for the sake of glory, or for the sake of strategy. The French - knew that they would have to retreat before morning and we knew perfectly - well that they would go. As far as the war was concerned there was nothing - to fight about. Yet our infantry and theirs fought like wild cats, or like - heroes if you like that better, amongst the houses—hot work enough—-while - the supports out in the open stood freezing in a tempestuous north wind - which drove the snow on earth and the great masses of clouds in the sky at - a terrific pace. The very air was inexpressibly sombre by contrast with - the white earth. I have never seen God's creation look more sinister than - on that day. - </p> - <p> - “We, the cavalry (we were only a handful), had not much to do except turn - our backs to the wind and receive some stray French round shot. This, I - may tell you, was the last of the French guns and it was the last time - they had their artillery in position. Those guns never went away from - there either. We found them abandoned next morning. But that afternoon - they were keeping up an infernal fire on our attacking column; the furious - wind carried away the smoke and even the noise but we could see the - constant flicker of the tongues of fire along the French front. Then a - driving flurry of snow would hide everything except the dark red flashes - in the white swirl. - </p> - <p> - “At intervals when the line cleared we could see away across the plain to - the right a sombre column moving endlessly; the great rout of the Grand - Army creeping on and on all the time while the fight on our left went on - with a great din and fury. The cruel whirlwind of snow swept over that - scene of death and desolation. And then the wind fell as suddenly as it - had arisen in the morning. - </p> - <p> - “Presently we got orders to charge the retreating column; I don't know why - unless they wanted to prevent us from getting frozen in our saddles by - giving us something to do. We changed front half right and got into motion - at a walk to take that distant dark line in flank. It might have been - half-past two in the afternoon. - </p> - <p> - “You must know that so far in this campaign my regiment had never been on - the main line of Napoleon's advance. All these months since the invasion - the army we belonged to had been wrestling with Oudinot in the north. We - had only come down lately, driving him before us to the Beresina. - </p> - <p> - “This was the first occasion, then, that I and my comrades had a close - view of Napoleon's Grand Army. It was an amazing and terrible sight. I had - heard of it from others; I had seen the stragglers from it: small bands of - marauders, parties of prisoners in the distance. But this was the very - column itself! A crawling, stumbling, starved, half-demented mob. It - issued from the forest a mile away and its head was lost in the murk of - the fields. We rode into it at a trot, which was the most we could get out - of our horses, and we stuck in that human mass as if in a moving bog. - There was no resistance. I heard a few shots, half a dozen perhaps. Their - very senses seemed frozen within them. I had time for a good look while - riding at the head of my squadron. Well, I assure you, there were men - walking on the outer edge so lost to everything but their misery that they - never turned their heads to look at our charge. Soldiers! - </p> - <p> - “My horse pushed over one of them with his chest. The poor wretch had a - dragoon's blue cloak, all torn and scorched, hanging from his shoulders - and he didn't even put his hand out to snatch at my bridle and save - himself. He just went down. Our troopers were pointing and slashing; well, - and of course at first I myself... What would you have! An enemy's an - enemy. Yet a sort of sickening awe crept into my heart. There was no - tumult—only a low deep murmur dwelt over them interspersed with - louder cries and groans while that mob kept on pushing and surging past - us, sightless and without feeling. A smell of scorched rags and festering - wounds hung in the air. My horse staggered in the eddies of swaying men. - But it was like cutting down galvanized corpses that didn't care. - Invaders! Yes... God was already dealing with them. - </p> - <p> - “I touched my horse with the spurs to get clear. There was a sudden rush - and a sort of angry moan when our second squadron got into them on our - right. My horse plunged and somebody got hold of my leg. As I had no mind - to get pulled out of the saddle I gave a back-handed slash without - looking. I heard a cry and my leg was let go suddenly. - </p> - <p> - “Just then I caught sight of the subaltern of my troop at some little - distance from me. His name was Tomassov. That multitude of resurrected - bodies with glassy eyes was seething round his horse as if blind, growling - crazily. He was sitting erect in his saddle, not looking down at them and - sheathing his sword deliberately. - </p> - <p> - “This Tomassov, well, he had a beard. Of course we all had beards then. - Circumstances, lack of leisure, want of razors, too. No, seriously, we - were a wild-looking lot in those unforgotten days which so many, so very - many of us did not survive. You know our losses were awful, too. Yes, we - looked wild. <i>Des Russes sauvages</i>—what! - </p> - <p> - “So he had a beard—this Tomassov I mean; but he did not look <i>sauvage</i>. - He was the youngest of us all. And that meant real youth. At a distance he - passed muster fairly well, what with the grime and the particular stamp of - that campaign on our faces. But directly you were near enough to have a - good look into his eyes, that was where his lack of age showed, though he - was not exactly a boy. - </p> - <p> - “Those same eyes were blue, something like the blue of autumn skies, - dreamy and gay, too—innocent, believing eyes. A topknot of fair hair - decorated his brow like a gold diadem in what one would call normal times. - </p> - <p> - “You may think I am talking of him as if he were the hero of a novel. Why, - that's nothing to what the adjutant discovered about him. He discovered - that he had a 'lover's lips'—whatever that may be. If the adjutant - meant a nice mouth, why, it was nice enough, but of course it was intended - for a sneer. That adjutant of ours was not a very delicate fellow. 'Look - at those lover's lips,' he would exclaim in a loud tone while Tomassov was - talking. - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov didn't quite like that sort of thing. But to a certain extent he - had laid himself open to banter by the lasting character of his - impressions which were connected with the passion of love and, perhaps, - were not of such a rare kind as he seemed to think them. What made his - comrades tolerant of his rhapsodies was the fact that they were connected - with France, with Paris! - </p> - <p> - “You of the present generation, you cannot conceive how much prestige - there was then in those names for the whole world. Paris was the centre of - wonder for all human beings gifted with imagination. There we were, the - majority of us young and well connected, but not long out of our - hereditary nests in the provinces; simple servants of God; mere rustics, - if I may say so. So we were only too ready to listen to the tales of - France from our comrade Tomassov. He had been attached to our mission in - Paris the year before the war. High protections very likely—or maybe - sheer luck. - </p> - <p> - “I don't think he could have been a very useful member of the mission - because of his youth and complete inexperience. And apparently all his - time in Paris was his own. The use he made of it was to fall in love, to - remain in that state, to cultivate it, to exist only for it in a manner of - speaking. - </p> - <p> - “Thus it was something more than a mere memory that he had brought with - him from France. Memory is a fugitive thing. It can be falsified, it can - be effaced, it can be even doubted. Why! I myself come to doubt sometimes - that I, too, have been in Paris in my turn. And the long road there with - battles for its stages would appear still more incredible if it were not - for a certain musket ball which I have been carrying about my person ever - since a little cavalry affair which happened in Silesia at the very - beginning of the Leipsic campaign. - </p> - <p> - “Passages of love, however, are more impressive perhaps than passages of - danger. You don't go affronting love in troops as it were. They are rarer, - more personal and more intimate. And remember that with Tomassov all that - was very fresh yet. He had not been home from France three months when the - war began. - </p> - <p> - “His heart, his mind were full of that experience. He was really awed by - it, and he was simple enough to let it appear in his speeches. He - considered himself a sort of privileged person, not because a woman had - looked at him with favour, but simply because, how shall I say it, he had - had the wonderful illumination of his worship for her, as if it were - heaven itself that had done this for him. - </p> - <p> - “Oh yes, he was very simple. A nice youngster, yet no fool; and with that, - utterly inexperienced, unsuspicious, and unthinking. You will find one - like that here and there in the provinces. He had some poetry in him too. - It could only be natural, something quite his own, not acquired. I suppose - Father Adam had some poetry in him of that natural sort. For the rest <i>un - Russe sauvage</i> as the French sometimes call us, but not of that kind - which, they maintain, eats tallow candle for a delicacy. As to the woman, - the French woman, well, though I have also been in France with a hundred - thousand Russians, I have never seen her. Very likely she was not in Paris - then. And in any case hers were not the doors that would fly open before - simple fellows of my sort, you understand. Gilded salons were never in my - way. I could not tell you how she looked, which is strange considering - that I was, if I may say so, Tomassov's special confidant. - </p> - <p> - “He very soon got shy of talking before the others. I suppose the usual - camp-fire comments jarred his fine feelings. But I was left to him and - truly I had to submit. You can't very well expect a youngster in - Tomassov's state to hold his tongue altogether; and I—I suppose you - will hardly believe me—I am by nature a rather silent sort of - person. - </p> - <p> - “Very likely my silence appeared to him sympathetic. All the month of - September our regiment, quartered in villages, had come in for an easy - time. It was then that I heard most of that—you can't call it a - story. The story I have in my mind is not in that. Outpourings, let us - call them. - </p> - <p> - “I would sit quite content to hold my peace, a whole hour perhaps, while - Tomassov talked with exaltation. And when he was done I would still hold - my peace. And then there would be produced a solemn effect of silence - which, I imagine, pleased Tomassov in a way. - </p> - <p> - “She was of course not a woman in her first youth. A widow, maybe. At any - rate I never heard Tomassov mention her husband. She had a salon, - something very distinguished; a social centre in which she queened it with - great splendour. - </p> - <p> - “Somehow, I fancy her court was composed mostly of men. But Tomassov, I - must say, kept such details out of his discourses wonderfully well. Upon - my word I don't know whether her hair was dark or fair, her eyes brown or - blue; what was her stature, her features, or her complexion. His love - soared above mere physical impressions. He never described her to me in - set terms; but he was ready to swear that in her presence everybody's - thoughts and feelings were bound to circle round her. She was that sort of - woman. Most wonderful conversations on all sorts of subjects went on in - her salon: but through them all there flowed unheard like a mysterious - strain of music the assertion, the power, the tyranny of sheer beauty. So - apparently the woman was beautiful. She detached all these talking people - from their life interests, and even from their vanities. She was a secret - delight and a secret trouble. All the men when they looked at her fell to - brooding as if struck by the thought that their lives had been wasted. She - was the very joy and shudder of felicity and she brought only sadness and - torment to the hearts of men. - </p> - <p> - “In short, she must have been an extraordinary woman, or else Tomassov was - an extraordinary young fellow to feel in that way and to talk like this - about her. I told you the fellow had a lot of poetry in him and observed - that all this sounded true enough. It would be just about the sorcery a - woman very much out of the common would exercise, you know. Poets do get - close to truth somehow—there is no denying that. - </p> - <p> - “There is no poetry in my composition, I know, but I have my share of - common shrewdness, and I have no doubt that the lady was kind to the - youngster, once he did find his way inside her salon. His getting in is - the real marvel. However, he did get in, the innocent, and he found - himself in distinguished company there, amongst men of considerable - position. And you know, what that means: thick waists, bald heads, teeth - that are not—as some satirist puts it. Imagine amongst them a nice - boy, fresh and simple, like an apple just off the tree; a modest, - good-looking, impressionable, adoring young barbarian. My word! What a - change! What a relief for jaded feelings! And with that, having, in his - nature that, dose; of poetry which saves even a simpleton from being a - fool. - </p> - <p> - “He became an artlessly, unconditionally devoted slave. He was rewarded by - being smiled on and in time admitted to the intimacy of the house. It may - be that the unsophisticated young barbarian amused the exquisite lady. - Perhaps—since he didn't feed on tallow candles—he satisfied - some need of tenderness in the woman. You know, there are many kinds of - tenderness highly civilized women are capable of. Women with heads and - imagination, I mean, and no temperament to speak of, you understand. But - who is going to fathom their needs or their fancies? Most of the time they - themselves don't know much about their innermost moods, and blunder out of - one into another, sometimes with catastrophic results. And then who is - more surprised than they? However, Tomassov's case was in its nature quite - idyllic. The fashionable world was amused. His devotion made for him a - kind of social success. But he didn't care. There was his one divinity, - and there was the shrine where he was permitted to go in and out without - regard for official reception hours. - </p> - <p> - “He took advantage of that privilege freely. Well, he had no official - duties, you know. The Military Mission was supposed to be more - complimentary than anything else, the head of it being a personal friend - of our Emperor Alexander; and he, too, was laying himself out for - successes in fashionable life exclusively—as it seemed. As it - seemed. - </p> - <p> - “One afternoon Tomassov called on the mistress of his thoughts earlier - than usual. She was not alone. There was a man with her, not one of the - thick-waisted, bald-headed personages, but a somebody all the same, a man - over thirty, a French officer who to some extent was also a privileged - intimate. Tomassov was not jealous of him. Such a sentiment would have - appeared presumptuous to the simple fellow. - </p> - <p> - “On the contrary he admired that officer. You have no idea of the French - military men's prestige in those days, even with us Russian soldiers who - had managed to face them perhaps better than the rest. Victory had marked - them on the forehead—it seemed for ever. They would have been more - than human if they had not been conscious of it; but they were good - comrades and had a sort of brotherly feeling for all who bore arms, even - if it was against them. - </p> - <p> - “And this was quite a superior example, an officer of the major-general's - staff, and a man of the best society besides. He was powerfully built, and - thoroughly masculine, though he was as carefully groomed as a woman. He - had the courteous self-possession of a man of the world. His forehead, - white as alabaster, contrasted impressively with the healthy colour of his - face. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know whether he was jealous of Tomassov, but I suspect that he - might have been a little annoyed at him as at a sort of walking absurdity - of the sentimental order. But these men of the world are impenetrable, and - outwardly he condescended to recognize Tomassov's existence even more - distinctly than was strictly necessary. Once or twice he had offered him - some useful worldly advice with perfect tact and delicacy. Tomassov was - completely conquered by that evidence of kindness under the cold polish of - the best society. - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov, introduced into the <i>petit salon</i>, found these two - exquisite people sitting on a sofa together and had the feeling of having - interrupted some special conversation. They looked at him strangely, he - thought; but he was not given to understand that he had intruded. After a - time the lady said to the officer—his name was De Castel—'I - wish you would take the trouble to ascertain the exact truth as to that - rumour.' - </p> - <p> - “'It's much more than a mere rumour,' remarked the officer. But he got up - submissively and went out. The lady turned to Tomassov and said: 'You may - stay with me.' - </p> - <p> - “This express command made him supremely happy, though as a matter of fact - he had had no idea of going. - </p> - <p> - “She regarded him with her kindly glances, which made something glow and - expand within his chest. It was a delicious feeling, even though it did - cut one's breath short now and then. Ecstatically he drank in the sound of - her tranquil, seductive talk full of innocent gaiety and of spiritual - quietude. His passion appeared to him to flame up and envelop her in blue - fiery tongues from head to foot and over her head, while her soul reposed - in the centre like a big white rose.... - </p> - <p> - “H'm, good this. He told me many other things like that. But this is the - one I remember. He himself remembered everything because these were the - last memories of that woman. He was seeing her for the last time though he - did not know it then. - </p> - <p> - “M. De Castel returned, breaking into that atmosphere of enchantment - Tomassov had been drinking in even to complete unconsciousness of the - external world. Tomassov could not help being struck by the distinction of - his movements, the ease of his manner, his superiority to all the other - men he knew, and he suffered from it. It occurred to him that these two - brilliant beings on the sofa were made for each other. - </p> - <p> - “De Castel sitting down by the side of the lady murmured to her - discreetly, 'There is not the slightest doubt that it's true,' and they - both turned their eyes to Tomassov. Roused thoroughly from his enchantment - he became self-conscious; a feeling of shyness came over him. He sat - smiling faintly at them. - </p> - <p> - “The lady without taking her eyes off the blushing Tomassov said with a - dreamy gravity quite unusual to her: - </p> - <p> - “'I should like to know that your generosity can be supreme—without - a flaw. Love at its highest should be the origin of every perfection.' - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov opened his eyes wide with admiration at this, as though her lips - had been dropping real pearls. The sentiment, however, was not uttered for - the primitive Russian youth but for the exquisitely accomplished man of - the world, De Castel. - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov could not see the effect it produced because the French officer - lowered his head and sat there contemplating his admirably polished boots. - The lady whispered in a sympathetic tone: - </p> - <p> - “'You have scruples?' - </p> - <p> - “De Castel, without looking up, murmured: 'It could be turned into a nice - point of honour.' - </p> - <p> - “She said vivaciously: 'That surely is artificial. I am all for natural - feelings. I believe in nothing else. But perhaps your conscience...' - </p> - <p> - “He interrupted her: 'Not at all. My conscience is not childish. The fate - of those people is of no military importance to us. What can it matter? - The fortune of France is invincible.' - </p> - <p> - “'Well then...' she uttered, meaningly, and rose from the couch. The - French officer stood up, too. Tomassov hastened to follow their example. - He was pained by his state of utter mental darkness. While he was raising - the lady's white hand to his lips he heard the French officer say with - marked emphasis: - </p> - <p> - “'If he has the soul of a warrior (at that time, you know, people really - talked in that way), if he has the soul of a warrior he ought to fall at - your feet in gratitude.' - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov felt himself plunged into even denser darkness than before. He - followed the French officer out of the room and out of the house; for he - had a notion that this was expected of him. - </p> - <p> - “It was getting dusk, the weather was very bad, and the street was quite - deserted. The Frenchman lingered in it strangely. And Tomassov lingered, - too, without impatience. He was never in a hurry to get away from the - house in which she lived. And besides, something wonderful had happened to - him. The hand he had reverently raised by the tips of its fingers had been - pressed against his lips. He had received a secret favour! He was almost - frightened. The world had reeled—and it had hardly steadied itself - yet. De Castel stopped short at the corner of the quiet street. - </p> - <p> - “'I don't care to be seen too much with you in the lighted thoroughfares, - M. Tomassov,' he said in a strangely grim tone. - </p> - <p> - “'Why?' asked the young man, too startled to be offended. - </p> - <p> - “'From prudence,' answered the other curtly. 'So we will have to part - here; but before we part I'll disclose to you something of which you will - see at once the importance.' - </p> - <p> - “This, please note, was an evening in late March of the year 1812. For a - long time already there had been talk of a growing coolness between Russia - and France. The word war was being whispered in drawing rooms louder and - louder, and at last was heard in official circles. Thereupon the Parisian - police discovered that our military envoy had corrupted some clerks at the - Ministry of War and had obtained from them some very important - confidential documents. The wretched men (there were two of them) had - confessed their crime and were to be shot that night. To-morrow all the - town would be talking of the affair. But the worst was that the Emperor - Napoleon was furiously angry at the discovery, and had made up his mind to - have the Russian envoy arrested. - </p> - <p> - “Such was De Castel's disclosure; and though he had spoken in low tones - Tomassov was stunned as by a great crash. - </p> - <p> - “'Arrested,' he murmured, desolately. - </p> - <p> - “'Yes, and kept as a state prisoner—with everybody belonging to - him....' - </p> - <p> - “The French officer seized Tomassov's arm above the elbow and pressed it - hard. - </p> - <p> - “'And kept in France,' he repeated into Tomassov's very ear, and then - letting him go stepped back a space and remained silent. - </p> - <p> - “'And it's you, you, who are telling me this!' cried Tomassov in an - extremity of gratitude that was hardly greater than his admiration for the - generosity of his future foe. Could a brother have done for him more! He - sought to seize the hand of the French officer, but the latter remained - wrapped up closely in his cloak. Possibly in the dark he had not noticed - the attempt. He moved back a bit and in his self-possessed voice of a man - of the world, as though he were speaking across a card table or something - of the sort, he called Tomassov's attention to the fact that if he meant - to make use of the warning the moments were precious. - </p> - <p> - “'Indeed they are,' agreed the awed Tomassov. 'Good-bye then. I have no - word of thanks to equal your generosity; but if ever I have an - opportunity, I swear it, you may command my life....' - </p> - <p> - “But the Frenchman retreated, had already vanished in the dark lonely - street. Tomassov was alone, and then he did not waste any of the precious - minutes of that night. - </p> - <p> - “See how people's mere gossip and idle talk pass into history. In all the - memoirs of the time if you read them you will find it stated that our - envoy had a warning from some highly placed woman who was in love with - him. Of course it's known that he had successes with women, and in the - highest spheres, too, but the truth is that the person who warned him was - no other than our simple Tomassov—an altogether different sort of - lover from himself. - </p> - <p> - “This then is the secret of our Emperor's representative's escape from - arrest. He and all his official household got out of France all right—as - history records. - </p> - <p> - “And amongst that household there was our Tomassov of course. He had, in - the words of the French officer, the soul of a warrior. And what more - desolate prospect for a man with such a soul than to be imprisoned on the - eve of war; to be cut off from his country in danger, from his military - family, from his duty, from honour, and—well—from glory, too. - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov used to shudder at the mere thought of the moral torture he had - escaped; and he nursed in his heart a boundless gratitude to the two - people who had saved him from that cruel ordeal. They were wonderful! For - him love and friendship were but two aspects of exalted perfection. He had - found these fine examples of it and he vowed them indeed a sort of cult. - It affected his attitude towards Frenchmen in general, great patriot as he - was. He was naturally indignant at the invasion of his country, but this - indignation had no personal animosity in it. His was fundamentally a fine - nature. He grieved at the appalling amount of human suffering he saw - around him. Yes, he was full of compassion for all forms of mankind's - misery in a manly way. - </p> - <p> - “Less fine natures than his own did not understand this very well. In the - regiment they had nicknamed him the Humane Tomassov. - </p> - <p> - “He didn't take offence at it. There is nothing incompatible between - humanity and a warrior's soul. People without compassion are the - civilians, government officials, merchants and such like. As to the - ferocious talk one hears from a lot of decent people in war time—well, - the tongue is an unruly member at best and when there is some excitement - going on there is no curbing its furious activity. - </p> - <p> - “So I had not been very surprised to see our Tomassov sheathe deliberately - his sword right in the middle of that charge, you may say. As we rode away - after it he was very silent. He was not a chatterer as a rule, but it was - evident that this close view of the Grand Army had affected him deeply, - like some sight not of this earth. I had always been a pretty tough - individual myself—well, even I... and there was that fellow with a - lot of poetry in his nature! You may imagine what he made of it to - himself. We rode side by side without opening our lips. It was simply - beyond words. - </p> - <p> - “We established our bivouac along the edge of the forest so as to get some - shelter for our horses. However, the boisterous north wind had dropped as - quickly as it had sprung up, and the great winter stillness lay on the - land from the Baltic to the Black Sea. One could almost feel its cold, - lifeless immensity reaching up to the stars. - </p> - <p> - “Our men had lighted several fires for their officers and had cleared the - snow around them. We had big logs of wood for seats; it was a very - tolerable bivouac upon the whole, even without the exultation of victory. - We were to feel that later, but at present we were oppressed by our stern - and arduous task. - </p> - <p> - “There were three of us round my fire. The third one was that adjutant. He - was perhaps a well-meaning chap but not so nice as he might have been had - he been less rough in manner and less crude in his perceptions. He would - reason about people's conduct as though a man were as simple a figure as, - say, two sticks laid across each other; whereas a man is much more like - the sea whose movements are too complicated to explain, and whose depths - may bring up God only knows what at any moment. - </p> - <p> - “We talked a little about that charge. Not much. That sort of thing does - not lend itself to conversation. Tomassov muttered a few words about a - mere butchery. I had nothing to say. As I told you I had very soon let my - sword hang idle at my wrist. That starving mob had not even <i>tried</i> - to defend itself. Just a few shots. We had two men wounded. Two!... and we - had charged the main column of Napoleon's Grand Army. - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov muttered wearily: 'What was the good of it?' I did not wish to - argue, so I only just mumbled: 'Ah, well!' But the adjutant struck in - unpleasantly: - </p> - <p> - “'Why, it warmed the men a bit. It has made me warm. That's a good enough - reason. But our Tomassov is so humane! And besides he has been in love - with a French woman, and thick as thieves with a lot of Frenchmen, so he - is sorry for them. Never mind, my boy, we are on the Paris road now and - you shall soon see her!' This was one of his usual, as we believed them, - foolish speeches. None of us but believed that the getting to Paris would - be a matter of years—of years. And lo! less than eighteen months - afterwards I was rooked of a lot of money in a gambling hell in the Palais - Royal. - </p> - <p> - “Truth, being often the most senseless thing in the world, is sometimes - revealed to fools. I don't think that adjutant of ours believed in his own - words. He just wanted to tease Tomassov from habit. Purely from habit. We - of course said nothing, and so he took his head in his hands and fell into - a doze as he sat on a log in front of the fire. - </p> - <p> - “Our cavalry was on the extreme right wing of the army, and I must confess - that we guarded it very badly. We had lost all sense of insecurity by this - time; but still we did keep up a pretence of doing it in a way. Presently - a trooper rode up leading a horse and Tomassov mounted stiffly and went - off on a round of the outposts. Of the perfectly useless outposts. - </p> - <p> - “The night was still, except for the crackling of the fires. The raging - wind had lifted far above the earth and not the faintest breath of it - could be heard. Only the full moon swam out with a rush into the sky and - suddenly hung high and motionless overhead. I remember raising my hairy - face to it for a moment. Then, I verily believe, I dozed off, too, bent - double on my log with my head towards the fierce blaze. - </p> - <p> - “You know what an impermanent thing such slumber is. One moment you drop - into an abyss and the next you are back in the world that you would think - too deep for any noise but the trumpet of the Last Judgment. And then off - you go again. Your very soul seems to slip down into a bottomless black - pit. Then up once more into a startled consciousness. A mere plaything of - cruel sleep one is, then. Tormented both ways. - </p> - <p> - “However, when my orderly appeared before me, repeating: 'Won't your - Honour be pleased to eat?... Won't your Honour be pleased to eat?...' I - managed to keep my hold of it—I mean that gaping consciousness. He - was offering me a sooty pot containing some grain boiled in water with a - pinch of salt. A wooden spoon was stuck in it. - </p> - <p> - “At that time these were the only rations we were getting regularly. Mere - chicken food, confound it! But the Russian soldier is wonderful. Well, my - fellow waited till I had feasted and then went away carrying off the empty - pot. - </p> - <p> - “I was no longer sleepy. Indeed, I had become awake with an exaggerated - mental consciousness of existence extending beyond my immediate - surroundings. Those are but exceptional moments with mankind, I am glad to - say. I had the intimate sensation of the earth in all its enormous expanse - wrapped in snow, with nothing showing on it but trees with their straight - stalk-like trunks and their funeral verdure; and in this aspect of general - mourning I seemed to hear the sighs of mankind falling to die in the midst - of a nature without life. They were Frenchmen. We didn't hate them; they - did not hate us; we had existed far apart—and suddenly they had come - rolling in with arms in their hands, without fear of God, carrying with - them other nations, and all to perish together in a long, long trail of - frozen corpses. I had an actual vision of that trail: a pathetic multitude - of small dark mounds stretching away under the moonlight in a clear, - still, and pitiless atmosphere—a sort of horrible peace. - </p> - <p> - “But what other peace could there be for them? What else did they deserve? - I don't know by what connection of emotions there came into my head the - thought that the earth was a pagan planet and not a fit abode for - Christian virtues. - </p> - <p> - “You may be surprised that I should remember all this so well. What is a - passing emotion or half-formed thought to last in so many years of a man's - changing, inconsequential life? But what has fixed the emotion of that - evening in my recollection so that the slightest shadows remain indelible - was an event of strange finality, an event not likely to be forgotten in a - life-time—as you shall see. - </p> - <p> - “I don't suppose I had been entertaining those thoughts more than five - minutes when something induced me to look over my shoulder. I can't think - it was a noise; the snow deadened all the sounds. Something it must have - been, some sort of signal reaching my consciousness. Anyway, I turned my - head, and there was the event approaching me, not that I knew it or had - the slightest premonition. All I saw in the distance were two figures - approaching in the moonlight. One of them was our Tomassov. The dark mass - behind him which moved across my sight were the horses which his orderly - was leading away. Tomassov was a very familiar appearance, in long boots, - a tall figure ending in a pointed hood. But by his side advanced another - figure. I mistrusted my eyes at first. It was amazing! It had a shining - crested helmet on its head and was muffled up in a white cloak. The cloak - was not as white as snow. Nothing in the world is. It was white more like - mist, with an aspect that was ghostly and martial to an extraordinary - degree. It was as if Tomassov had got hold of the God of War himself. I - could see at once that he was leading this resplendent vision by the arm. - Then I saw that he was holding it up. While I stared and stared, they - crept on—for indeed they were creeping—and at last they crept - into the light of our bivouac fire and passed beyond the log I was sitting - on. The blaze played on the helmet. It was extremely battered and the - frost-bitten face, full of sores, under it was framed in bits of mangy - fur. No God of War this, but a French officer. The great white - cuirassier's cloak was torn, burnt full of holes. His feet were wrapped up - in old sheepskins over remnants of boots. They looked monstrous and he - tottered on them, sustained by Tomassov who lowered him most carefully on - to the log on which I sat. - </p> - <p> - “My amazement knew no bounds. - </p> - <p> - “'You have brought in a prisoner,' I said to Tomassov, as if I could not - believe my eyes. - </p> - <p> - “You must understand that unless they surrendered in large bodies we made - no prisoners. What would have been the good? Our Cossacks either killed - the stragglers or else let them alone, just as it happened. It came really - to the same thing in the end. - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov turned to me with a very troubled look. - </p> - <p> - “'He sprang up from the ground somewhere as I was leaving the outpost,' he - said. 'I believe he was making for it, for he walked blindly into my - horse. He got hold of my leg and of course none of our chaps dared touch - him then.' - </p> - <p> - “'He had a narrow escape,' I said. - </p> - <p> - “'He didn't appreciate it,' said Tomassov, looking even more troubled than - before. 'He came along holding to my stirrup leather. That's what made me - so late. He told me he was a staff officer; and then talking in a voice - such, I suppose, as the damned alone use, a croaking of rage and pain, he - said he had a favour to beg of me. A supreme favour. Did I understand him, - he asked in a sort of fiendish whisper. - </p> - <p> - “'Of course I told him that I did. I said: <i>oui, je vous comprends</i>.' - </p> - <p> - “'Then,' said he, 'do it. Now! At once—in the pity of your heart.' - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov ceased and stared queerly at me above the head of the prisoner. - </p> - <p> - “I said, 'What did he mean?' - </p> - <p> - “'That's what I asked him,' answered Tomassov in a dazed tone, 'and he - said that he wanted me to do him the favour to blow his brains out. As a - fellow soldier he said. 'As a man of feeling—as—as a humane - man.' - </p> - <p> - “The prisoner sat between us like an awful gashed mummy as to the face, a - martial scarecrow, a grotesque horror of rags and dirt, with awful living - eyes, full of vitality, full of unquenchable fire, in a body of horrible - affliction, a skeleton at the feast of glory. And suddenly those shining - unextinguishable eyes of his became fixed upon Tomassov. He, poor fellow, - fascinated, returned the ghastly stare of a suffering soul in that mere - husk of a man. The prisoner croaked at him in French. - </p> - <p> - “'I recognize, you know. You are her Russian youngster. You were very - grateful. I call on you to pay the debt. Pay it, I say, with one - liberating shot. You are a man of honour. I have not even a broken sabre. - All my being recoils from my own degradation. You know me.' - </p> - <p> - “Tomassov said nothing. - </p> - <p> - “'Haven't you got the soul of a warrior?' the Frenchman asked in an angry - whisper, but with something of a mocking intention in it. - </p> - <p> - “'I don't know,' said poor Tomassov. - </p> - <p> - “What a look of contempt that scarecrow gave him out of his unquenchable - eyes. He seemed to live only by the force of infuriated and impotent - despair. Suddenly he gave a gasp and fell forward writhing in the agony of - cramp in all his limbs; a not unusual effect of the heat of a camp-fire. - It resembled the application of some horrible torture. But he tried to - fight against the pain at first. He only moaned low while we bent over him - so as to prevent him rolling into the fire, and muttered feverishly at - intervals: '<i>Tuez moi, tuez moi</i>...' till, vanquished by the pain, he - screamed in agony, time after time, each cry bursting out through his - compressed lips. - </p> - <p> - “The adjutant woke up on the other side of the fire and started swearing - awfully at the beastly row that Frenchman was making. - </p> - <p> - “'What's this? More of your infernal humanity, Tomassov,' he yelled at us. - 'Why don't you have him thrown out of this to the devil on the snow?' - </p> - <p> - “As we paid no attention to his shouts, he got up, cursing shockingly, and - went away to another fire. Presently the French officer became easier. We - propped him up against the log and sat silent on each side of him till the - bugles started their call at the first break of day. The big flame, kept - up all through the night, paled on the livid sheet of snow, while the - frozen air all round rang with the brazen notes of cavalry trumpets. The - Frenchman's eyes, fixed in a glassy stare, which for a moment made us hope - that he had died quietly sitting there between us two, stirred slowly to - right and left, looking at each of our faces in turn. Tomassov and I - exchanged glances of dismay. Then De Castel's voice, unexpected in its - renewed strength and ghastly self-possession, made us shudder inwardly. - </p> - <p> - “'<i>Bonjour, Messieurs</i>.' - </p> - <p> - “His chin dropped on his breast. Tomassov addressed me in Russian. - </p> - <p> - “'It is he, the man himself...' I nodded and Tomassov went on in a tone of - anguish: 'Yes, he! Brilliant, accomplished, envied by men, loved by that - woman—this horror—this miserable thing that cannot die. Look - at his eyes. It's terrible.' - </p> - <p> - “I did not look, but I understood what Tomassov meant. We could do nothing - for him. This avenging winter of fate held both the fugitives and the - pursuers in its iron grip. Compassion was but a vain word before that - unrelenting destiny. I tried to say something about a convoy being no - doubt collected in the village—but I faltered at the mute glance - Tomassov gave me. We knew what those convoys were like: appalling mobs of - hopeless wretches driven on by the butts of Cossacks' lances, back to the - frozen inferno, with their faces set away from their homes. - </p> - <p> - “Our two squadrons had been formed along the edge of the forest. The - minutes of anguish were passing. The Frenchman suddenly struggled to his - feet. We helped him almost without knowing what we were doing. - </p> - <p> - “'Come,' he said, in measured tones. 'This is the moment.' He paused for a - long time, then with the same distinctness went on: 'On my word of honour, - all faith is dead in me.' - </p> - <p> - “His voice lost suddenly its self-possession. After waiting a little while - he added in a murmur: 'And even my courage.... Upon my honour.' - </p> - <p> - “Another long pause ensued before, with a great effort, he whispered - hoarsely: 'Isn't this enough to move a heart of stone? Am I to go on my - knees to you?' - </p> - <p> - “Again a deep silence fell upon the three of us. Then the French officer - flung his last word of anger at Tomassov. - </p> - <p> - “'Milksop!' - </p> - <p> - “Not a feature of the poor fellow moved. I made up my mind to go and fetch - a couple of our troopers to lead that miserable prisoner away to the - village. There was nothing else for it. I had not moved six paces towards - the group of horses and orderlies in front of our squadron when... but you - have guessed it. Of course. And I, too, I guessed it, for I give you my - word that the report of Tomassov's pistol was the most insignificant thing - imaginable. The snow certainly does absorb sound. It was a mere feeble - pop. Of the orderlies holding our horses I don't think one turned his head - round. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Tomassov had done it. Destiny had led that De Castel to the man who - could understand him perfectly. But it was poor Tomassov's lot to be the - predestined victim. You know what the world's justice and mankind's - judgment are like. They fell heavily on him with a sort of inverted - hypocrisy. Why! That brute of an adjutant, himself, was the first to set - going horrified allusions to the shooting of a prisoner in cold blood! - Tomassov was not dismissed from the service of course. But after the siege - of Dantzig he asked for permission to resign from the army, and went away - to bury himself in the depths of his province, where a vague story of some - dark deed clung to him for years. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. He had done it. And what was it? One warrior's soul paying its debt - a hundredfold to another warrior's soul by releasing it from a fate worse - than death—the loss of all faith and courage. You may look on it in - that way. I don't know. And perhaps poor Tomassov did not know himself. - But I was the first to approach that appalling dark group on the snow: the - Frenchman extended rigidly on his back, Tomassov kneeling on one knee - rather nearer to the feet than to the Frenchman's head. He had taken his - cap off and his hair shone like gold in the light drift of flakes that had - begun to fall. He was stooping over the dead in a tenderly contemplative - attitude. And his young, ingenuous face, with lowered eyelids, expressed - no grief, no sternness, no horror—but was set in the repose of a - profound, as if endless and endlessly silent, meditation.” - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - PRINCE ROMAN <br /> (1911) - </h2> - <p> - “Events which happened seventy years ago are perhaps rather too far off to - be dragged aptly into a mere conversation. Of course the year 1831 is for - us an historical date, one of these fatal years when in the presence of - the world's passive indignation and eloquent sympathies we had once more - to murmur '<i>Vo Victis</i>' and count the cost in sorrow. Not that we - were ever very good at calculating, either, in prosperity or in adversity. - That's a lesson we could never learn, to the great exasperation of our - enemies who have bestowed upon us the epithet of Incorrigible....” - </p> - <p> - The speaker was of Polish nationality, that nationality not so much alive - as surviving, which persists in thinking, breathing, speaking, hoping, and - suffering in its grave, railed in by a million of bayonets and - triple-sealed with the seals of three great empires. - </p> - <p> - The conversation was about aristocracy. How did this, nowadays - discredited, subject come up? It is some years ago now and the precise - recollection has faded. But I remember that it was not considered - practically as an ingredient in the social mixture; and I verily believed - that we arrived at that subject through some exchange of ideas about - patriotism—a somewhat discredited sentiment, because the delicacy of - our humanitarians regards it as a relic of barbarism. Yet neither the - great Florentine painter who closed his eyes in death thinking of his - city, nor St. Francis blessing with his last breath the town of Assisi, - were barbarians. It requires a certain greatness of soul to interpret - patriotism worthily—or else a sincerity of feeling denied to the - vulgar refinement of modern thought which cannot understand the august - simplicity of a sentiment proceeding from the very nature of things and - men. - </p> - <p> - The aristocracy we were talking about was the very highest, the great - families of Europe, not impoverished, not converted, not liberalized, the - most distinctive and specialized class of all classes, for which even - ambition itself does not exist among the usual incentives to activity and - regulators of conduct. - </p> - <p> - The undisputed right of leadership having passed away from them, we judged - that their great fortunes, their cosmopolitanism brought about by wide - alliances, their elevated station, in which there is so little to gain and - so much to lose, must make their position difficult in times of political - commotion or national upheaval. No longer born to command—which is - the very essence of aristocracy—it becomes difficult for them to do - aught else but hold aloof from the great movements of popular passion. - </p> - <p> - We had reached that conclusion when the remark about far-off events was - made and the date of 1831 mentioned. And the speaker continued: - </p> - <p> - “I don't mean to say that I knew Prince Roman at that remote time. I begin - to feel pretty ancient, but I am not so ancient as that. In fact Prince - Roman was married the very year my father was born. It was in 1828; the - 19th Century was young yet and the Prince was even younger than the - century, but I don't know exactly by how much. In any case his was an - early marriage. It was an ideal alliance from every point of view. The - girl was young and beautiful, an orphan heiress of a great name and of a - great fortune. The Prince, then an officer in the Guards and distinguished - amongst his fellows by something reserved and reflective in his character, - had fallen headlong in love with her beauty, her charm, and the serious - qualities of her mind and heart. He was a rather silent young man; but his - glances, his bearing, his whole person expressed his absolute devotion to - the woman of his choice, a devotion which she returned in her own frank - and fascinating manner. - </p> - <p> - “The flame of this pure young passion promised to burn for ever; and for a - season it lit up the dry, cynical atmosphere of the great world of St. - Petersburg. The Emperor Nicholas himself, the grandfather of the present - man, the one who died from the Crimean War, the last perhaps of the - Autocrats with a mystical belief in the Divine character of his mission, - showed some interest in this pair of married lovers. It is true that - Nicholas kept a watchful eye on all the doings of the great Polish nobles. - The young people leading a life appropriate to their station were - obviously wrapped up in each other; and society, fascinated by the - sincerity of a feeling moving serenely among the artificialities of its - anxious and fastidious agitation, watched them with benevolent indulgence - and an amused tenderness. - </p> - <p> - “The marriage was the social event of 1828, in the capital. Just forty - years afterwards I was staying in the country house of my mother's brother - in our southern provinces. - </p> - <p> - “It was the dead of winter. The great lawn in front was as pure and smooth - as an alpine snowfield, a white and feathery level sparkling under the sun - as if sprinkled with diamond-dust, declining gently to the lake—a - long, sinuous piece of frozen water looking bluish and more solid than the - earth. A cold brilliant sun glided low above an undulating horizon of - great folds of snow in which the villages of Ukrainian peasants remained - out of sight, like clusters of boats hidden in the hollows of a running - sea. And everything was very still. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know now how I had managed to escape at eleven o'clock in the - morning from the schoolroom. I was a boy of eight, the little girl, my - cousin, a few months younger than myself, though hereditarily more - quick-tempered, was less adventurous. So I had escaped alone; and - presently I found myself in the great stone-paved hall, warmed by a - monumental stove of white tiles, a much more pleasant locality than the - schoolroom, which for some reason or other, perhaps hygienic, was always - kept at a low temperature. - </p> - <p> - “We children were aware that there was a guest staying in the house. He - had arrived the night before just as we were being driven off to bed. We - broke back through the line of beaters to rush and flatten our noses - against the dark window panes; but we were too late to see him alight. We - had only watched in a ruddy glare the big travelling carriage on - sleigh-runners harnessed with six horses, a black mass against the snow, - going off to the stables, preceded by a horseman carrying a blazing ball - of tow and resin in an iron basket at the end of a long stick swung from - his saddle bow. Two stable boys had been sent out early in the afternoon - along the snow-tracks to meet the expected guest at dusk and light his way - with these road torches. At that time, you must remember, there was not a - single mile of railways in our southern provinces. My little cousin and I - had no knowledge of trains and engines, except from picture-books, as of - things rather vague, extremely remote, and not particularly interesting - unless to grownups who travelled abroad. - </p> - <p> - “Our notion of princes, perhaps a little more precise, was mainly literary - and had a glamour reflected from the light of fairy tales, in which - princes always appear young, charming, heroic, and fortunate. Yet, as well - as any other children, we could draw a firm line between the real and the - ideal. We knew that princes were historical personages. And there was some - glamour in that fact, too. But what had driven me to roam cautiously over - the house like an escaped prisoner was the hope of snatching an interview - with a special friend of mine, the head forester, who generally came to - make his report at that time of the day, I yearned for news of a certain - wolf. You know, in a country where wolves are to be found, every winter - almost brings forward an individual eminent by the audacity of his - misdeeds, by his more perfect wolfishness—so to speak. I wanted to - hear some new thrilling tale of that wolf—perhaps the dramatic story - of his death.... - </p> - <p> - “But there was no one in the hall. - </p> - <p> - “Deceived in my hopes, I became suddenly very much depressed. Unable to - slip back in triumph to my studies I elected to stroll spiritlessly into - the billiard room where certainly I had no business. There was no one - there either, and I felt very lost and desolate under its high ceiling, - all alone with the massive English billiard table which seemed, in heavy, - rectilinear silence, to disapprove of that small boy's intrusion. - </p> - <p> - “As I began to think of retreat I heard footsteps in the adjoining drawing - room; and, before I could turn tail and flee, my uncle and his guest - appeared in the doorway. To run away after having been seen would have - been highly improper, so I stood my ground. My uncle looked surprised to - see me; the guest by his side was a spare man, of average stature, - buttoned up in a black frock coat and holding himself very erect with a - stiffly soldier-like carriage. From the folds of a soft white cambric - neck-cloth peeped the points of a collar close against each shaven cheek. - A few wisps of thin gray hair were brushed smoothly across the top of his - bald head. His face, which must have been beautiful in its day, had - preserved in age the harmonious simplicity of its lines. What amazed me - was its even, almost deathlike pallor. He seemed to me to be prodigiously - old. A faint smile, a mere momentary alteration in the set of his thin - lips acknowledged my blushing confusion; and I became greatly interested - to see him reach into the inside breastpocket of his coat. He extracted - therefrom a lead pencil and a block of detachable pages, which he handed - to my uncle with an almost imperceptible bow. - </p> - <p> - “I was very much astonished, but my uncle received it as a matter of - course. He wrote something at which the other glanced and nodded slightly. - A thin wrinkled hand—the hand was older than the face—patted - my cheek and then rested on my head lightly. An un-ringing voice, a voice - as colourless as the face itself, issued from his sunken lips, while the - eyes, dark and still, looked down at me kindly. - </p> - <p> - “'And how old is this shy little boy?'” - </p> - <p> - “Before I could answer my uncle wrote down my age on the pad. I was deeply - impressed. What was this ceremony? Was this personage too great to be - spoken to? Again he glanced at the pad, and again gave a nod, and again - that impersonal, mechanical voice was heard: 'He resembles his - grandfather.' - </p> - <p> - “I remembered my paternal grandfather. He had died not long before. He, - too, was prodigiously old. And to me it seemed perfectly natural that two - such ancient and venerable persons should have known each other in the dim - ages of creation before my birth. But my uncle obviously had not been - aware of the fact. So obviously that the mechanical voice explained: 'Yes, - yes. Comrades in '31. He was one of those who knew. Old times, my dear - sir, old times....' - </p> - <p> - “He made a gesture as if to put aside an importunate ghost. And now they - were both looking down at me. I wondered whether anything was expected - from me. To my round, questioning eyes my uncle remarked: 'He's completely - deaf.' And the unrelated, inexpressive voice said: 'Give me your hand.' - </p> - <p> - “Acutely conscious of inky fingers I put it out timidly. I had never seen - a deaf person before and was rather startled. He pressed it firmly and - then gave me a final pat on the head. - </p> - <p> - “My uncle addressed me weightily: 'You have shaken hands with Prince Roman - S————-. It's something for you to remember when - you grow up.' - </p> - <p> - “I was impressed by his tone. I had enough historical information to know - vaguely that the Princes S————- counted amongst - the sovereign Princes of Ruthenia till the union of all Ruthenian lands to - the kingdom of Poland, when they became great Polish magnates, sometime at - the beginning of the 15th Century. But what concerned me most was the - failure of the fairy-tale glamour. It was shocking to discover a prince - who was deaf, bald, meagre, and so prodigiously old. It never occurred to - me that this imposing and disappointing man had been young, rich, - beautiful; I could not know that he had been happy in the felicity of an - ideal marriage uniting two young hearts, two great names and two great - fortunes; happy with a happiness which, as in fairy tales, seemed destined - to last for ever.... - </p> - <p> - “But it did not last for ever. It was fated not to last very long even by - the measure of the days allotted to men's passage on this earth where - enduring happiness is only found in the conclusion of fairy tales. A - daughter was born to them and shortly afterwards, the health of the young - princess began to fail. For a time she bore up with smiling intrepidity, - sustained by the feeling that now her existence was necessary for the - happiness of two lives. But at last the husband, thoroughly alarmed by the - rapid changes in her appearance, obtained an unlimited leave and took her - away from the capital to his parents in the country. - </p> - <p> - “The old prince and princess were extremely frightened at the state of - their beloved daughter-in-law. Preparations were at once made for a - journey abroad. But it seemed as if it were already too late; and the - invalid herself opposed the project with gentle obstinacy. Thin and pale - in the great armchair, where the insidious and obscure nervous malady made - her appear smaller and more frail every day without effacing the smile of - her eyes or the charming grace of her wasted face, she clung to her native - land and wished to breathe her native air. Nowhere else could she expect - to get well so quickly, nowhere else would it be so easy for her to die. - </p> - <p> - “She died before her little girl was two years old. The grief of the - husband was terrible and the more alarming to his parents because - perfectly silent and dry-eyed. After the funeral, while the immense - bareheaded crowd of peasants surrounding the private chapel on the grounds - was dispersing, the Prince, waving away his friends and relations, - remained alone to watch the masons of the estate closing the family vault. - When the last stone was in position he uttered a groan, the first sound of - pain which had escaped from him for days, and walking away with lowered - head shut himself up again in his apartments. - </p> - <p> - “His father and mother feared for his reason. His outward tranquillity was - appalling to them. They had nothing to trust to but that very youth which - made his despair so self-absorbed and so intense. Old Prince John, fretful - and anxious, repeated: 'Poor Roman should be roused somehow. He's so - young.' But they could find nothing to rouse him with. And the old - princess, wiping her eyes, wished in her heart he were young enough to - come and cry at her knee. - </p> - <p> - “In time Prince Roman, making an effort, would join now and again the - family circle. But it was as if his heart and his mind had been buried in - the family vault with the wife he had lost. He took to wandering in the - woods with a gun, watched over secretly by one of the keepers, who would - report in the evening that 'His Serenity has never fired a shot all day.' - Sometimes walking to the stables in the morning he would order in subdued - tones a horse to be saddled, wait switching his boot till it was led up to - him, then mount without a word and ride out of the gates at a walking - pace. He would be gone all day. People saw him on the roads looking - neither to the right nor to the left, white-faced, sitting rigidly in the - saddle like a horseman of stone on a living mount. - </p> - <p> - “The peasants working in the fields, the great unhedged fields, looked - after him from the distance; and sometimes some sympathetic old woman on - the threshold of a low, thatched hut was moved to make the sign of the - cross in the air behind his back; as though he were one of themselves, a - simple village soul struck by a sore affliction. - </p> - <p> - “He rode looking straight ahead seeing no one as if the earth were empty - and all mankind buried in that grave which had opened so suddenly in his - path to swallow up his happiness. What were men to him with their sorrows, - joys, labours and passions from which she who had been all the world to - him had been cut off so early? - </p> - <p> - “They did not exist; and he would have felt as completely lonely and - abandoned as a man in the toils of a cruel nightmare if it had not been - for this countryside where he had been born and had spent his happy boyish - years. He knew it well—every slight rise crowned with trees amongst - the ploughed fields, every dell concealing a village. The dammed streams - made a chain of lakes set in the green meadows. Far away to the north the - great Lithuanian forest faced the sun, no higher than a hedge; and to the - south, the way to the plains, the vast brown spaces of the earth touched - the blue sky. - </p> - <p> - “And this familiar landscape associated with the days without thought and - without sorrow, this land the charm of which he felt without even looking - at it soothed his pain, like the presence of an old friend who sits silent - and disregarded by one in some dark hour of life. - </p> - <p> - “One afternoon, it happened that the Prince after turning his horse's head - for home remarked a low dense cloud of dark dust cutting off slantwise a - part of the view. He reined in on a knoll and peered. There were slender - gleams of steel here and there in that cloud, and it contained moving - forms which revealed themselves at last as a long line of peasant carts - full of soldiers, moving slowly in double file under the escort of mounted - Cossacks. - </p> - <p> - “It was like an immense reptile creeping over the fields; its head dipped - out of sight in a slight hollow and its tail went on writhing and growing - shorter as though the monster were eating its way slowly into the very - heart of the land. - </p> - <p> - “The Prince directed his way through a village lying a little off the - track. The roadside inn with its stable, byre, and barn under one enormous - thatched roof resembled a deformed, hunch-backed, ragged giant, sprawling - amongst the small huts of the peasants. The innkeeper, a portly, dignified - Jew, clad in a black satin coat reaching down to his heels and girt with a - red sash, stood at the door stroking his long silvery beard. - </p> - <p> - “He watched the Prince approach and bowed gravely from the waist, not - expecting to be noticed even, since it was well known that their young - lord had no eyes for anything or anybody in his grief. It was quite a - shock for him when the Prince pulled up and asked: - </p> - <p> - “'What's all this, Yankel?' - </p> - <p> - “'That is, please your Serenity, that is a convoy of footsoldiers they are - hurrying down to the south.' - </p> - <p> - “He glanced right and left cautiously, but as there was no one near but - some children playing in the dust of the village street, he came up close - to the stirrup. - </p> - <p> - “'Doesn't your Serenity know? It has begun already down there. All the - landowners great and small are out in arms and even the common people have - risen. Only yesterday the saddler from Grodek (it was a tiny market-town - near by) went through here with his two apprentices on his way to join. He - left even his cart with me. I gave him a guide through our neighbourhood. - You know, your Serenity, our people they travel a lot and they see all - that's going on, and they know all the roads.' - </p> - <p> - “He tried to keep down his excitement, for the Jew Yankel, innkeeper and - tenant of all the mills on the estate, was a Polish patriot. And in a - still lower voice: - </p> - <p> - “'I was already a married man when the French and all the other nations - passed this way with Napoleon. Tse! Tse! That was a great harvest for - death, <i>nu!</i> Perhaps this time God will help.' - </p> - <p> - “The Prince nodded. 'Perhaps'—and falling into deep meditation he - let his horse take him home. - </p> - <p> - “That night he wrote a letter, and early in the morning sent a mounted - express to the post town. During the day he came out of his taciturnity, - to the great joy of the family circle, and conversed with his father of - recent events—the revolt in Warsaw, the flight of the Grand Duke - Constantine, the first slight successes of the Polish army (at that time - there was a Polish army); the risings in the provinces. Old Prince John, - moved and uneasy, speaking from a purely aristocratic point of view, - mistrusted the popular origins of the movement, regretted its democratic - tendencies, and did not believe in the possibility of success. He was sad, - inwardly agitated. - </p> - <p> - “'I am judging all this calmly. There are secular principles of legitimity - and order which have been violated in this reckless enterprise for the - sake of most subversive illusions. Though of course the patriotic impulses - of the heart....' - </p> - <p> - “Prince Roman had listened in a thoughtful attitude. He took advantage of - the pause to tell his father quietly that he had sent that morning a - letter to St. Petersburg resigning his commission in the Guards. - </p> - <p> - “The old prince remained silent. He thought that he ought to have been - consulted. His son was also ordnance officer to the Emperor and he knew - that the Tsar would never forget this appearance of defection in a Polish - noble. In a discontented tone he pointed out to his son that as it was he - had an unlimited leave. The right thing would have been to keep quiet. - They had too much tact at Court to recall a man of his name. Or at worst - some distant mission might have been asked for—to the Caucasus for - instance—away from this unhappy struggle which was wrong in - principle and therefore destined to fail. - </p> - <p> - “'Presently you shall find yourself without any interest in life and with - no occupation. And you shall need something to occupy you, my poor boy. - You have acted rashly, I fear.' - </p> - <p> - “Prince Roman murmured. - </p> - <p> - “'I thought it better.' - </p> - <p> - “His father faltered under his steady gaze. - </p> - <p> - “'Well, well—perhaps! But as ordnance officer to the Emperor and in - favour with all the Imperial family....' - </p> - <p> - “'Those people had never been heard of when our house was already - illustrious,' the young man let fall disdainfully. - </p> - <p> - “This was the sort of remark to which the old prince was sensible. - </p> - <p> - “'Well—perhaps it is better,' he conceded at last. - </p> - <p> - “The father and son parted affectionately for the night. The next day - Prince Roman seemed to have fallen back into the depths of his - indifference. He rode out as usual. He remembered that the day before he - had seen a reptile-like convoy of soldiery, bristling with bayonets, - crawling over the face of that land which was his. The woman he loved had - been his, too. Death had robbed him of her. Her loss had been to him a - moral shock. It had opened his heart to a greater sorrow, his mind to a - vaster thought, his eyes to all the past and to the existence of another - love fraught with pain but as mysteriously imperative as that lost one to - which he had entrusted his happiness. - </p> - <p> - “That evening he retired earlier than usual and rang for his personal - servant. - </p> - <p> - “'Go and see if there is light yet in the quarters of the - Master-of-the-Horse. If he is still up ask him to come and speak to me.' - </p> - <p> - “While the servant was absent on this errand the Prince tore up hastily - some papers, locked the drawers of his desk, and hung a medallion, - containing the miniature of his wife, round his neck against his breast. - </p> - <p> - “The man the Prince was expecting belonged to that past which the death of - his love had called to life. He was of a family of small nobles who for - generations had been adherents, servants, and friends of the Princes S————-. - He remembered the times before the last partition and had taken part in - the struggles of the last hour. He was a typical old Pole of that class, - with a great capacity for emotion, for blind enthusiasm; with martial - instincts and simple beliefs; and even with the old-time habit of larding - his speech with Latin words. And his kindly shrewd eyes, his ruddy face, - his lofty brow and his thick, gray, pendent moustache were also very - typical of his kind. - </p> - <p> - “'Listen, Master Francis,' the Prince said familiarly and without - preliminaries. 'Listen, old friend. I am going to vanish from here - quietly. I go where something louder than my grief and yet something with - a voice very like it calls me. I confide in you alone. You will say what's - necessary when the time comes.' - </p> - <p> - “The old man understood. His extended hands trembled exceedingly. But as - soon as he found his voice he thanked God aloud for letting him live long - enough to see the descendant of the illustrious family in its youngest - generation give an example <i>coram Gentibus</i> of the love of his - country and of valour in the field. He doubted not of his dear Prince - attaining a place in council and in war worthy of his high birth; he saw - already that <i>in fulgore</i> of family glory <i>affulget patride - serenitas</i>. At the end of the speech he burst into tears and fell into - the Prince's arms. - </p> - <p> - “The Prince quieted the old man and when he had him seated in an armchair - and comparatively composed he said: - </p> - <p> - “'Don't misunderstand me, Master Francis. You know how I loved my wife. A - loss like that opens one's eyes to unsuspected truths. There is no - question here of leadership and glory. I mean to go alone and to fight - obscurely in the ranks. I am going to offer my country what is mine to - offer, that is my life, as simply as the saddler from Grodek who went - through yesterday with his apprentices.' - </p> - <p> - “The old man cried out at this. That could never be. He could not allow - it. But he had to give way before the arguments and the express will of - the Prince. “'Ha! If you say that it is a matter of feeling and conscience—so - be it. But you cannot go utterly alone. Alas! that I am too old to be of - any use. <i>Cripit verba dolor</i>, my dear Prince, at the thought that I - am over seventy and of no more account in the world than a cripple in the - church porch. It seems that to sit at home and pray to God for the nation - and for you is all I am fit for. But there is my son, my youngest son, - Peter. He will make a worthy companion for you. And as it happens he's - staying with me here. There has not been for ages a Prince S————- - hazarding his life without a companion of our name to ride by his side. - You must have by you somebody who knows who you are if only to let your - parents and your old servant hear what is happening to you. And when does - your Princely Mightiness mean to start?' - </p> - <p> - “'In an hour,' said the Prince; and the old man hurried off to warn his - son. - </p> - <p> - “Prince Roman took up a candlestick and walked quietly along a dark - corridor in the silent house. The head-nurse said afterwards that waking - up suddenly she saw the Prince looking at his child, one hand shading the - light from its eyes. He stood and gazed at her for some time, and then - putting the candlestick on the floor bent over the cot and kissed lightly - the little girl who did not wake. He went out noiselessly, taking the - light away with him. She saw his face perfectly well, but she could read - nothing of his purpose in it. It was pale but perfectly calm and after he - turned away from the cot he never looked back at it once. - </p> - <p> - “The only other trusted person, besides the old man and his son Peter, was - the Jew Yankel. When he asked the Prince where precisely he wanted to be - guided the Prince answered: 'To the nearest party.' A grandson of the Jew, - a lanky youth, conducted the two young men by little-known paths across - woods and morasses, and led them in sight of the few fires of a small - detachment camped in a hollow. Some invisible horses neighed, a voice in - the dark cried: 'Who goes there?'... and the young Jew departed hurriedly, - explaining that he must make haste home to be in time for keeping the - Sabbath. - </p> - <p> - “Thus humbly and in accord with the simplicity of the vision of duty he - saw when death had removed the brilliant bandage of happiness from his - eyes, did Prince Roman bring his offering to his country. His companion - made himself known as the son of the Master of-the-Horse to the Princes S————- - and declared him to be a relation, a distant cousin from the same parts as - himself and, as people presumed, of the same name. In truth no one - inquired much. Two more young men clearly of the right sort had joined. - Nothing more natural. - </p> - <p> - “Prince Roman did not remain long in the south. One day while scouting - with several others, they were ambushed near the entrance of a village by - some Russian infantry. The first discharge laid low a good many and the - rest scattered in all directions. The Russians, too, did not stay, being - afraid of a return in force. After some time, the peasants coming to view - the scene extricated Prince Roman from under his dead horse. He was unhurt - but his faithful companion had been one of the first to fall. The Prince - helped the peasants to bury him and the other dead. - </p> - <p> - “Then alone, not certain where to find the body of partizans which was - constantly moving about in all directions, he resolved to try and join the - main Polish army facing the Russians on the borders of Lithuania. - Disguised in peasant clothes, in case of meeting some marauding Cossacks, - he wandered a couple of weeks before he came upon a village occupied by a - regiment of Polish cavalry on outpost duty. - </p> - <p> - “On a bench, before a peasant hut of a better sort, sat an elderly officer - whom he took for the colonel. The Prince approached respectfully, told his - story shortly and stated his desire to enlist; and when asked his name by - the officer, who had been looking him over carefully, he gave on the spur - of the moment the name of his dead companion. - </p> - <p> - “The elderly officer thought to himself: Here's the son of some peasant - proprietor of the liberated class. He liked his appearance. - </p> - <p> - “'And can you read and write, my good fellow?' he asked. - </p> - <p> - “'Yes, your honour, I can,' said the Prince. - </p> - <p> - “'Good. Come along inside the hut; the regimental adjutant is there. He - will enter your name and administer the oath to you.' - </p> - <p> - “The adjutant stared very hard at the newcomer but said nothing. When all - the forms had been gone through and the recruit gone out, he turned to his - superior officer. - </p> - <p> - “'Do you know who that is?' - </p> - <p> - “'Who? That Peter? A likely chap.' - </p> - <p> - “'That's Prince Roman S————-.' - </p> - <p> - “'Nonsense.' - </p> - <p> - “But the adjutant was positive. He had seen the Prince several times, - about two years before, in the Castle in Warsaw. He had even spoken to him - once at a reception of officers held by the Grand Duke. - </p> - <p> - “'He's changed. He seems much older, but I am certain of my man. I have a - good memory for faces.' - </p> - <p> - “The two officers looked at each other in silence. - </p> - <p> - “'He's sure to be recognized sooner or later,' murmured the adjutant. The - colonel shrugged his shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “'It's no affair of ours—if he has a fancy to serve in the ranks. As - to being recognized it's not so likely. All our officers and men come from - the other end of Poland.' - </p> - <p> - “He meditated gravely for a while, then smiled. 'He told me he could read - and write. There's nothing to prevent me making him a sergeant at the - first opportunity. He's sure to shape all right.' - </p> - <p> - “Prince Roman as a non-commissioned officer surpassed the colonel's - expectations. Before long Sergeant Peter became famous for his - resourcefulness and courage. It was not the reckless courage of a - desperate man; it was a self-possessed, as if conscientious, valour which - nothing could dismay; a boundless but equable devotion, unaffected by - time, by reverses, by the discouragement of endless retreats, by the - bitterness of waning hopes and the horrors of pestilence added to the - toils and perils of war. It was in this year that the cholera made its - first appearance in Europe. It devastated the camps of both armies, - affecting the firmest minds with the terror of a mysterious death stalking - silently between the piled-up arms and around the bivouac fires. - </p> - <p> - “A sudden shriek would wake up the harassed soldiers and they would see in - the glow of embers one of themselves writhe on the ground like a worm - trodden on by an invisible foot. And before the dawn broke he would be - stiff and cold. Parties so visited have been known to rise like one man, - abandon the fire and run off into the night in mute panic. Or a comrade - talking to you on the march would stammer suddenly in the middle of a - sentence, roll affrighted eyes, and fall down with distorted face and blue - lips, breaking the ranks with the convulsions of his agony. Men were - struck in the saddle, on sentry duty, in the firing line, carrying orders, - serving the guns. I have been told that in a battalion forming under fire - with perfect steadiness for the assault of a village, three cases occurred - within five minutes at the head of the column; and the attack could not be - delivered because the leading companies scattered all over the fields like - chaff before the wind. - </p> - <p> - “Sergeant Peter, young as he was, had a great influence over his men. It - was said that the number of desertions in the squadron in which he served - was less than in any other in the whole of that cavalry division. Such was - supposed to be the compelling example of one man's quiet intrepidity in - facing every form of danger and terror. - </p> - <p> - “However that may be, he was liked and trusted generally. When the end - came and the remnants of that army corps, hard pressed on all sides, were - preparing to cross the Prussian frontier, Sergeant Peter had enough - influence to rally round him a score of troopers. He managed to escape - with them at night, from the hemmed-in army. He led this band through 200 - miles of country covered by numerous Russian detachments and ravaged by - the cholera. But this was not to avoid captivity, to go into hiding and - try to save themselves. No. He led them into a fortress which was still - occupied by the Poles, and where the last stand of the vanquished - revolution was to be made. - </p> - <p> - “This looks like mere fanaticism. But fanaticism is human. Man has adored - ferocious divinities. There is ferocity in every passion, even in love - itself. The religion of undying hope resembles the mad cult of despair, of - death, of annihilation. The difference lies in the moral motive springing - from the secret needs and the unexpressed aspiration of the believers. It - is only to vain men that all is vanity; and all is deception only to those - who have never been sincere with themselves. - </p> - <p> - “It was in the fortress that my grandfather found himself together with - Sergeant Peter. My grandfather was a neighbour of the S————- - family in the country but he did not know Prince Roman, who however knew - his name perfectly well. The Prince introduced himself one night as they - both sat on the ramparts, leaning against a gun carriage. - </p> - <p> - “The service he wished to ask for was, in case of his being killed, to - have the intelligence conveyed to his parents. - </p> - <p> - “They talked in low tones, the other servants of the piece lying about - near them. My grandfather gave the required promise, and then asked - frankly—for he was greatly interested by the disclosure so - unexpectedly made: - </p> - <p> - “But tell me, Prince, why this request? Have you any evil forebodings as - to yourself?' - </p> - <p> - “Not in the least; I was thinking of my people. They have no idea where I - am,' answered Prince Roman. 'I'll engage to do as much for you, if you - like. It's certain that half of us at least shall be killed before the - end, so there's an even chance of one of us surviving the other.' - </p> - <p> - “My grandfather told him where, as he supposed, his wife and children were - then. From that moment till the end of the siege the two were much - together. On the day of the great assault my grandfather received a severe - wound. The town was taken. Next day the citadel itself, its hospital full - of dead and dying, its magazines empty, its defenders having burnt their - last cartridge, opened its gates. - </p> - <p> - “During all the campaign the Prince, exposing his person conscientiously - on every occasion, had not received a scratch. No one had recognized him - or at any rate had betrayed his identity. Till then, as long as he did his - duty, it had mattered nothing who he was. - </p> - <p> - “Now, however, the position was changed. As ex-guardsman and as late - ordnance officer to the Emperor, this rebel ran a serious risk of being - given special attention in the shape of a firing squad at ten paces. For - more than a month he remained lost in the miserable crowd of prisoners - packed in the casemates of the citadel, with just enough food to keep body - and soul together but otherwise allowed to die from wounds, privation, and - disease at the rate of forty or so a day. - </p> - <p> - “The position of the fortress being central, new parties, captured in the - open in the course of a thorough pacification, were being sent in - frequently. Amongst such newcomers there happened to be a young man, a - personal friend of the Prince from his school days. He recognized him, and - in the extremity of his dismay cried aloud: 'My God! Roman, you here!' - </p> - <p> - “It is said that years of life embittered by remorse paid for this - momentary lack of self-control. All this happened in the main quadrangle - of the citadel. The warning gesture of the Prince came too late. An - officer of the gendarmes on guard had heard the exclamation. The incident - appeared to him worth inquiring into. The investigation which followed was - not very arduous because the Prince, asked categorically for his real - name, owned up at once. - </p> - <p> - “The intelligence of the Prince S————— being - found amongst the prisoners was sent to St. Petersburg. His parents were - already there living in sorrow, incertitude, and apprehension. The capital - of the Empire was the safest place to reside in for a noble whose son had - disappeared so mysteriously from home in a time of rebellion. The old - people had not heard from him, or of him, for months. They took care not - to contradict the rumours of suicide from despair circulating in the great - world, which remembered the interesting love-match, the charming and frank - happiness brought to an end by death. But they hoped secretly that their - son survived, and that he had been able to cross the frontier with that - part of the army which had surrendered to the Prussians. - </p> - <p> - “The news of his captivity was a crushing blow. Directly, nothing could be - done for him. But the greatness of their name, of their position, their - wide relations and connections in the highest spheres, enabled his parents - to act indirectly and they moved heaven and earth, as the saying is, to - save their son from the 'consequences of his madness,' as poor Prince John - did not hesitate to express himself. Great personages were approached by - society leaders, high dignitaries were interviewed, powerful officials - were induced to take an interest in that affair. The help of every - possible secret influence was enlisted. Some private secretaries got heavy - bribes. The mistress of a certain senator obtained a large sum of money. - </p> - <p> - “But, as I have said, in such a glaring case no direct appeal could be - made and no open steps taken. All that could be done was to incline by - private representation the mind of the President of the Military - Commission to the side of clemency. He ended by being impressed by the - hints and suggestions, some of them from very high quarters, which he - received from St. Petersburg. And, after all, the gratitude of such great - nobles as the Princes S———— was something worth - having from a worldly point of view. He was a good Russian but he was also - a good-natured man. Moreover, the hate of Poles was not at that time a - cardinal article of patriotic creed as it became some thirty years later. - He felt well disposed at first sight towards that young man, bronzed, - thin-faced, worn out by months of hard campaigning, the hardships of the - siege and the rigours of captivity. - </p> - <p> - “The Commission was composed of three officers. It sat in the citadel in a - bare vaulted room behind a long black table. Some clerks occupied the two - ends, and besides the gendarmes who brought in the Prince there was no one - else there. - </p> - <p> - “Within those four sinister walls shutting out from him all the sights and - sounds of liberty, all hopes of the future, all consoling illusions—alone - in the face of his enemies erected for judges, who can tell how much love - of life there was in Prince Roman? How much remained in that sense of - duty, revealed to him in sorrow? How much of his awakened love for his - native country? That country which demands to be loved as no other country - has ever been loved, with the mournful affection one bears to the - unforgotten dead and with the unextinguishable fire of a hopeless passion - which only a living, breathing, warm ideal can kindle in our breasts for - our pride, for our weariness, for our exultation, for our undoing. - </p> - <p> - “There is something monstrous in the thought of such an exaction till it - stands before us embodied in the shape of a fidelity without fear and - without reproach. Nearing the supreme moment of his life the Prince could - only have had the feeling that it was about to end. He answered the - questions put to him clearly, concisely—with the most profound - indifference. After all those tense months of action, to talk was a - weariness to him. But he concealed it, lest his foes should suspect in his - manner the apathy of discouragement or the numbness of a crushed spirit. - The details of his conduct could have no importance one way or another; - with his thoughts these men had nothing to do. He preserved a scrupulously - courteous tone. He had refused the permission to sit down. - </p> - <p> - “What happened at this preliminary examination is only known from the - presiding officer. Pursuing the only possible course in that glaringly bad - case he tried from the first to bring to the Prince's mind the line of - defence he wished him to take. He absolutely framed his questions so as to - put the right answers in the culprit's mouth, going so far as to suggest - the very words: how, distracted by excessive grief after his young wife's - death, rendered irresponsible for his conduct by his despair, in a moment - of blind recklessness, without realizing the highly reprehensible nature - of the act, nor yet its danger and its dishonour, he went off to join the - nearest rebels on a sudden impulse. And that now, penitently... - </p> - <p> - “But Prince Roman was silent. The military judges looked at him hopefully. - In silence he reached for a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper he found - under his hand: 'I joined the national rising from conviction.' - </p> - <p> - “He pushed the paper across the table. The president took it up, showed it - in turn to his two colleagues sitting to the right and left, then looking - fixedly at Prince Roman let it fall from his hand. And the silence - remained unbroken till he spoke to the gendarmes ordering them to remove - the prisoner. - </p> - <p> - “Such was the written testimony of Prince Roman in the supreme moment of - his life. I have heard that the Princes of the S————- - family, in all its branches, adopted the last two words: 'From conviction' - for the device under the armorial bearings of their house. I don't know - whether the report is true. My uncle could not tell me. He remarked only, - that naturally, it was not to be seen on Prince Roman's own seal. - </p> - <p> - “He was condemned for life to Siberian mines. Emperor Nicholas, who always - took personal cognizance of all sentences on Polish nobility, wrote with - his own hand in the margin: 'The authorities are severely warned to take - care that this convict walks in chains like any other criminal every step - of the way.' - </p> - <p> - “It was a sentence of deferred death. Very few survived entombment in - these mines for more than three years. Yet as he was reported as still - alive at the end of that time he was allowed, on a petition of his parents - and by way of exceptional grace, to serve as common soldier in the - Caucasus. All communication with him was forbidden. He had no civil - rights. For all practical purposes except that of suffering he was a dead - man. The little child he had been so careful not to wake up when he kissed - her in her cot, inherited all the fortune after Prince John's death. Her - existence saved those immense estates from confiscation. - </p> - <p> - “It was twenty-five years before Prince Roman, stone deaf, his health - broken, was permitted to return to Poland. His daughter married splendidly - to a Polish Austrian <i>grand seigneur</i> and, moving in the cosmopolitan - sphere of the highest European aristocracy, lived mostly abroad in Nice - and Vienna. He, settling down on one of her estates, not the one with the - palatial residence but another where there was a modest little house, saw - very little of her. - </p> - <p> - “But Prince Roman did not shut himself up as if his work were done. There - was hardly anything done in the private and public life of the - neighbourhood, in which Prince Roman's advice and assistance were not - called upon, and never in vain. It was well said that his days did not - belong to himself but to his fellow citizens. And especially he was the - particular friend of all returned exiles, helping them with purse and - advice, arranging their affairs and finding them means of livelihood. - </p> - <p> - “I heard from my uncle many tales of his devoted activity, in which he was - always guided by a simple wisdom, a high sense of honour, and the most - scrupulous conception of private and public probity. He remains a living - figure for me because of that meeting in a billiard room, when, in my - anxiety to hear about a particularly wolfish wolf, I came in momentary - contact with a man who was preeminently a man amongst all men capable of - feeling deeply, of believing steadily, of loving ardently. - </p> - <p> - “I remember to this day the grasp of Prince Roman's bony, wrinkled hand - closing on my small inky paw, and my uncle's half-serious, half-amused way - of looking down at his trespassing nephew. - </p> - <p> - “They moved on and forgot that little boy. But I did not move; I gazed - after them, not so much disappointed as disconcerted by this prince so - utterly unlike a prince in a fairy tale. They moved very slowly across the - room. Before reaching the other door the Prince stopped, and I heard him—I - seem to hear him now—saying: 'I wish you would write to Vienna about - filling up that post. He's a most deserving fellow—and your - recommendation would be decisive.' - </p> - <p> - “My uncle's face turned to him expressed genuine wonder. It said as - plainly as any speech could say: What better recommendation than a - father's can be needed? The Prince was quick at reading expressions. Again - he spoke with the toneless accent of a man who has not heard his own voice - for years, for whom the soundless world is like an abode of silent shades. - </p> - <p> - “And to this day I remember the very words: 'I ask you because, you see, - my daughter and my son-in-law don't believe me to be a good judge of men. - They think that I let myself be guided too much by mere sentiment.'” - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - THE TALE <br /> (1917) - </h2> - <p> - Outside the large single window the crepuscular light was dying out slowly - in a great square gleam without colour, framed rigidly in the gathering - shades of the room. - </p> - <p> - It was a long room. The irresistible tide of the night ran into the most - distant part of it, where the whispering of a man's voice, passionately - interrupted and passionately renewed, seemed to plead against the - answering murmurs of infinite sadness. - </p> - <p> - At last no answering murmur came. His movement when he rose slowly from - his knees by the side of the deep, shadowy couch holding the shadowy - suggestion of a reclining woman revealed him tall under the low ceiling, - and sombre all over except for the crude discord of the white collar under - the shape of his head and the faint, minute spark of a brass button here - and there on his uniform. - </p> - <p> - He stood over her a moment, masculine and mysterious in his immobility, - before he sat down on a chair near by. He could see only the faint oval of - her upturned face and, extended on her black dress, her pale hands, a - moment before abandoned to his kisses and now as if too weary to move. - </p> - <p> - He dared not make a sound, shrinking as a man would do from the prosaic - necessities of existence. As usual, it was the woman who had the courage. - Her voice was heard first—almost conventional while her being - vibrated yet with conflicting emotions. - </p> - <p> - “Tell me something,” she said. - </p> - <p> - The darkness hid his surprise and then his smile. Had he not just said to - her everything worth saying in the world—and that not for the first - time! - </p> - <p> - “What am I to tell you?” he asked, in a voice creditably steady. He was - beginning to feel grateful to her for that something final in her tone - which had eased the strain. - </p> - <p> - “Why not tell me a tale?” - </p> - <p> - “A tale!” He was really amazed. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Why not?” - </p> - <p> - These words came with a slight petulance, the hint of a loved woman's - capricious will, which is capricious only because it feels itself to to be - a law, embarrassing sometimes and always difficult to elude. - </p> - <p> - “Why not?” he repeated, with a slightly mocking accent, as though he had - been asked to give her the moon. But now he was feeling a little angry - with her for that feminine mobility that slips out of an emotion as easily - as out of a splendid gown. - </p> - <p> - He heard her say, a little unsteadily with a sort of fluttering intonation - which made him think suddenly of a butterfly's flight: - </p> - <p> - “You used to tell—your—your simple and—and professional—tales - very well at one time. Or well enough to interest me. You had a—a - sort of art—in the days—the days before the war.” - </p> - <p> - “Really?” he said, with involuntary gloom. “But now, you see, the war is - going on,” he continued in such a dead, equable tone that she felt a - slight chill fall over her shoulders. And yet she persisted. For there's - nothing more unswerving in the world than a woman's caprice. - </p> - <p> - “It could be a tale not of this world,” she explained. - </p> - <p> - “You want a tale of the other, the better world?” he asked, with a - matter-of-fact surprise. “You must evoke for that task those who have - already gone there.” - </p> - <p> - “No. I don't mean that. I mean another—some other—world. In - the universe—not in heaven.” - </p> - <p> - “I am relieved. But you forget that I have only five days' leave.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. And I've also taken a five days' leave from—from my duties.” - </p> - <p> - “I like that word.” - </p> - <p> - “What word?” - </p> - <p> - “Duty.” - </p> - <p> - “It is horrible—sometimes.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's because you think it's narrow. But it isn't. It contains - infinities, and—and so———” - </p> - <p> - “What is this jargon?” - </p> - <p> - He disregarded the interjected scorn. “An infinity of absolution, for - instance,” he continued. “But as to this another world'—who's going - to look for it and for the tale that is in it?” - </p> - <p> - “You,” she said, with a strange, almost rough, sweetness of assertion. - </p> - <p> - He made a shadowy movement of assent in his chair, the irony of which not - even the gathered darkness could render mysterious. - </p> - <p> - “As you will. In that world, then, there was once upon a time a Commanding - Officer and a Northman. Put in the capitals, please, because they had no - other names. It was a world of seas and continents and islands———” - </p> - <p> - “Like the earth,” she murmured, bitterly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. What else could you expect from sending a man made of our common, - tormented clay on a voyage of discovery? What else could he find? What - else could you understand or care for, or feel the existence of even? - There was comedy in it, and slaughter.” - </p> - <p> - “Always like the earth,” she murmured. “Always. And since I could find in - the universe only what was deeply rooted in the fibres of my being there - was love in it, too. But we won't talk of that.” - </p> - <p> - “No. We won't,” she said, in a neutral tone which concealed perfectly her - relief—or her disappointment. Then after a pause she added: “It's - going to be a comic story.” - </p> - <p> - “Well———” he paused, too. “Yes. In a way. In a very grim - way. It will be human, and, as you know, comedy is but a matter of the - visual angle. And it won't be a noisy story. All the long guns in it will - be dumb—as dumb as so many telescopes.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, there are guns in it, then! And may I ask—where?” - </p> - <p> - “Afloat. You remember that the world of which we speak had its seas. A war - was going on in it. It was a funny work! and terribly in earnest. Its war - was being carried on over the land, over the water, under the water, up in - the air, and even under the ground. And many young men in it, mostly in - wardrooms and mess-rooms, used to say to each other—pardon the - unparliamentary word—they used to say, 'It's a damned bad war, but - it's better than no war at all.' Sounds flippant, doesn't it.” - </p> - <p> - He heard a nervous, impatient sigh in the depths of the couch while he - went on without a pause. - </p> - <p> - “And yet there is more in it than meets the eye. I mean more wisdom. - Flippancy, like comedy, is but a matter of visual first impression. That - world was not very wise. But there was in it a certain amount of common - working sagacity. That, however, was mostly worked by the neutrals in - diverse ways, public and private, which had to be watched; watched by - acute minds and also by actual sharp eyes. They had to be very sharp - indeed, too, I assure you.” - </p> - <p> - “I can imagine,” she murmured, appreciatively. - </p> - <p> - “What is there that you can't imagine?” he pronounced, soberly. “You have - the world in you. But let us go back to our commanding officer, who, of - course, commanded a ship of a sort. My tales if often professional (as you - remarked just now) have never been technical. So I'll just tell you that - the ship was of a very ornamental sort once, with lots of grace and - elegance and luxury about her. Yes, once! She was like a pretty woman who - had suddenly put on a suit of sackcloth and stuck revolvers in her belt. - But she floated lightly, she moved nimbly, she was quite good enough.” - </p> - <p> - “That was the opinion of the commanding officer?” said the voice from the - couch. - </p> - <p> - “It was. He used to be sent out with her along certain coasts to see—what - he could see. Just that. And sometimes he had some preliminary information - to help him, and sometimes he had not. And it was all one, really. It was - about as useful as information trying to convey the locality and - intentions of a cloud, of a phantom taking shape here and there and - impossible to seize, would have been. - </p> - <p> - “It was in the early days of the war. What at first used to amaze the - commanding officer was the unchanged face of the waters, with its familiar - expression, neither more friendly nor more hostile. On fine days the sun - strikes sparks upon the blue; here and there a peaceful smudge of smoke - hangs in the distance, and it is impossible to believe that the familiar - clear horizon traces the limit of one great circular ambush. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is impossible to believe, till some day you see a ship not your - own ship (that isn't so impressive), but some ship in company, blow up all - of a sudden and plop under almost before you know what has happened to - her. Then you begin to believe. Henceforth you go out for the work to see—what - you can see, and you keep on at it with the conviction that some day you - will die from something you have not seen. One envies the soldiers at the - end of the day, wiping the sweat and blood from their faces, counting the - dead fallen to their hands, looking at the devastated fields, the torn - earth that seems to suffer and bleed with them. One does, really. The - final brutality of it—the taste of primitive passion—the - ferocious frankness of the blow struck with one's hand—the direct - call and the straight response. Well, the sea gave you nothing of that, - and seemed to pretend that there was nothing the matter with the world.” - </p> - <p> - She interrupted, stirring a little. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. Sincerity—frankness—passion—three words of - your gospel. Don't I know them!” - </p> - <p> - “Think! Isn't it ours—believed in common?” he asked, anxiously, yet - without expecting an answer, and went on at once: “Such were the feelings - of the commanding officer. When the night came trailing over the sea, - hiding what looked like the hypocrisy of an old friend, it was a relief. - The night blinds you frankly—and there are circumstances when the - sunlight may grow as odious to one as falsehood itself. Night is all - right. - </p> - <p> - “At night the commanding officer could let his thoughts get away—I - won't tell you where. Somewhere where there was no choice but between - truth and death. But thick weather, though it blinded one, brought no such - relief. Mist is deceitful, the dead luminosity of the fog is irritating. - It seems that you <i>ought</i> to see. - </p> - <p> - “One gloomy, nasty day the ship was steaming along her beat in sight of a - rocky, dangerous coast that stood out intensely black like an India-ink - drawing on gray paper. Presently the second in command spoke to his chief. - He thought he saw something on the water, to seaward. Small wreckage, - perhaps. - </p> - <p> - “'But there shouldn't be any wreckage here, sir,' he remarked. - </p> - <p> - “'No,' said the commanding officer. 'The last reported submarined ships - were sunk a long way to the westward. But one never knows. There may have - been others since then not reported nor seen. Gone with all hands.' - </p> - <p> - “That was how it began. The ship's course was altered to pass the object - close; for it was necessary to have a good look at what one could see. - Close, but without touching; for it was not advisable to come in contact - with objects of any form whatever floating casually about. Close, but - without stopping or even diminishing speed; for in those times it was not - prudent to linger on any particular spot, even for a moment. I may tell - you at once that the object was not dangerous in itself. No use in - describing it. It may have been nothing more remarkable than, say, a - barrel of a certain shape and colour. But it was significant. - </p> - <p> - “The smooth bow-wave hove it up as if for a closer inspection, and then - the ship, brought again to her course, turned her back on it with - indifference, while twenty pairs of eyes on her deck stared in all - directions trying to see—what they could see. - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer and his second in command discussed the object - with understanding. It appeared to them to be not so much a proof of the - sagacity as of the activity of certain neutrals. This activity had in many - cases taken the form of replenishing the stores of certain submarines at - sea. This was generally believed, if not absolutely known. But the very - nature of things in those early days pointed that way. The object, looked - at closely and turned away from with apparent indifference, put it beyond - doubt that something of the sort had been done somewhere in the - neighbourhood. - </p> - <p> - “The object in itself was more than suspect. But the fact of its being - left in evidence roused other suspicions. Was it the result of some deep - and devilish purpose? As to that all speculation soon appeared to be a - vain thing. Finally the two officers came to the conclusion that it wras - left there most likely by accident, complicated possibly by some - unforeseen necessity; such, perhaps, as the sudden need to get away - quickly from the spot, or something of that kind. - </p> - <p> - “Their discussion had been carried on in curt, weighty phrases, separated - by long, thoughtful silences. And all the time their eyes roamed about the - horizon in an everlasting, almost mechanical effort of vigilance. The - younger man summed up grimly: - </p> - <p> - “'Well, it's evidence. That's what this is. Evidence of what we were - pretty certain of before. And plain, too.' - </p> - <p> - “'And much good it will do to us,' retorted the commanding officer. 'The - parties are miles away; the submarine, devil only knows where, ready to - kill; and the noble neutral slipping away to the eastward, ready to lie!' - </p> - <p> - “The second in command laughed a little at the tone. But he guessed that - the neutral wouldn't even have to lie very much. Fellows like that, unless - caught in the very act, felt themselves pretty safe. They could afford to - chuckle. That fellow was probably chuckling to himself. It's very possible - he had been before at the game and didn't care a rap for the bit of - evidence left behind. It was a game in which practice made one bold and - successful, too. - </p> - <p> - “And again he laughed faintly. But his commanding officer was in revolt - against the murderous stealthiness of methods and the atrocious - callousness of complicities that seemed to taint the very source of men's - deep emotions and noblest activities; to corrupt their imagination which - builds up the final conceptions of life and death. He suffered———-” - </p> - <p> - The voice from the sofa interrupted the narrator. - </p> - <p> - “How well I can understand that in him!” - </p> - <p> - He bent forward slightly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I, too. Everything should be open in love and war. Open as the day, - since both are the call of an ideal which it is so easy, so terribly easy, - to degrade in the name of Victory.” - </p> - <p> - He paused; then went on: I don't know that the commanding officer delved - so deep as that into his feelings. But he did suffer from them—a - sort of disenchanted sadness. It is possible, even, that he suspected - himself of folly. Man is various. But he had no time for much - introspection, because from the southwest a wall of fog had advanced upon - his ship. Great convolutions of vapours flew over, swirling about masts - and funnel, which looked as if they were beginning to melt. Then they - vanished. - </p> - <p> - “The ship was stopped, all sounds ceased, and the very fog became - motionless, growing denser and as if solid in its amazing dumb immobility. - The men at their stations lost sight of each other. Footsteps sounded - stealthy; rare voices, impersonal and remote, died out without resonance. - A blind white stillness took possession of the world. - </p> - <p> - “It looked, too, as if it would last for days. I don't mean to say that - the fog did not vary a little in its density. Now and then it would thin - out mysteriously, revealing to the men a more or less ghostly presentment - of their ship. Several times the shadow of the coast itself swam darkly - before their eyes through the fluctuating opaque brightness of the great - white cloud clinging to the water. - </p> - <p> - “Taking advantage of these moments, the ship had been moved cautiously - nearer the shore. It was useless to remain out in such thick weather. Her - officers knew every nook and cranny of the coast along their beat. They - thought that she would be much better in a certain cove. It wasn't a large - place, just ample room for a ship to swing at her anchor. She would have - an easier time of it till the fog lifted up. - </p> - <p> - “Slowly, with infinite caution and patience, they crept closer and closer, - seeing no more of the cliffs than an evanescent dark loom with a narrow - border of angry foam at its foot. At the moment of anchoring the fog was - so thick that for all they could see they might have been a thousand miles - out in the open sea. Yet the shelter of the land could be felt. There was - a peculiar quality in the stillness of the air. Very faint, very elusive, - the wash of the ripple against the encircling land reached their ears, - with mysterious sudden pauses. - </p> - <p> - “The anchor dropped, the leads were laid in. The commanding officer went - below into his cabin. But he had not been there very long when a voice - outside his door requested his presence on deck. He thought to himself: - 'What is it now?' He felt some impatience at being called out again to - face the wearisome fog. - </p> - <p> - “He found that it had thinned again a little and had taken on a gloomy hue - from the dark cliffs which had no form, no outline, but asserted - themselves as a curtain of shadows all round the ship, except in one - bright spot, which was the entrance from the open sea. Several officers - were looking that way from the bridge. The second in command met him with - the breathlessly whispered information that there was another ship in the - cove. - </p> - <p> - “She had been made out by several pairs of eyes only a couple of minutes - before. She was lying at anchor very near the entrance—a mere vague - blot on the fog's brightness. And the commanding officer by staring in the - direction pointed out to him by eager hands ended by distinguishing it at - last himself. Indubitably a vessel of some sort. - </p> - <p> - “'It's a wonder we didn't run slap into her when coming in,' observed the - second in command. - </p> - <p> - “'Send a boat on board before she vanishes,' said the commanding officer. - He surmised that this was a coaster. It could hardly be anything else. But - another thought came into his head suddenly. 'It is a wonder,' he said to - his second in command, who had rejoined him after sending the boat away. - </p> - <p> - “By that time both of them had been struck by the fact that the ship so - suddenly discovered had not manifested her presence by ringing her bell. - </p> - <p> - “'We came in very quietly, that's true,' concluded the younger officer. - 'But they must have heard our leadsmen at least. We couldn't have passed - her more than fifty yards off. The closest shave! They may even have made - us out, since they were aware of something coming in. And the strange - thing is that we never heard a sound from her. The fellows on board must - have been holding their breath.' - </p> - <p> - “'Aye,' said the commanding officer, thoughtfully. - </p> - <p> - “In due course the boarding-boat returned, appearing suddenly alongside, - as though she had burrowed her way under the fog. The officer in charge - came up to make his report, but the commanding officer didn't give him - time to begin. He cried from a distance: - </p> - <p> - “'Coaster, isn't she?' - </p> - <p> - “'No, sir. A stranger—a neutral,' was the answer. - </p> - <p> - “'No. Really! Well, tell us all about it. What is she doing here?' - </p> - <p> - “The young man stated then that he had been told a long and complicated - story of engine troubles. But it was plausible enough from a strictly - professional point of view and it had the usual features: disablement, - dangerous drifting along the shore, weather more or less thick for days, - fear of a gale, ultimately a resolve to go in and anchor anywhere on the - coast, and so on. Fairly plausible. - </p> - <p> - “'Engines still disabled?' inquired the commanding officer. - </p> - <p> - “'No, sir. She has steam on them.' - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer took his second aside. 'By Jove!' he said, 'you - were right! They were holding their breaths as we passed them. They were.' - </p> - <p> - “But the second in command had his doubts now. - </p> - <p> - “'A fog like this does muffle small sounds, sir,' he remarked. 'And what - could his object be, after all?' - </p> - <p> - “'To sneak out unnoticed,' answered the commanding officer. - </p> - <p> - “'Then why didn't he? He might have done it, you know. Not exactly - unnoticed, perhaps. I don't suppose he could have slipped his cable - without making some noise. Still, in a minute or so he would have been - lost to view—clean gone before we had made him out fairly. Yet he - didn't.' - </p> - <p> - “They looked at each other. The commanding officer shook his head. Such - suspicions as the one which had entered his head are not defended easily. - He did not even state it openly. The boarding officer finished his report. - The cargo of the ship was of a harmless and useful character. She was - bound to an English port. Papers and everything in perfect order. Nothing - suspicious to be detected anywhere. - </p> - <p> - “Then passing to the men, he reported the crew on deck as the usual lot. - Engineers of the well-known type, and very full of their achievement in - repairing the engines. The mate surly. The master rather a fine specimen - of a Northman, civil enough, but appeared to have been drinking. Seemed to - be recover-ing from a regular bout of it. - </p> - <p> - “'I told him I couldn't give him permission to proceed. He said he - wouldn't dare to move his ship her own length out in such weather as this, - permission or no permission. I left a man on board, though.' - </p> - <p> - “'Quite right.' - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer, after communing with his suspicions for a time, - called his second aside. - </p> - <p> - “'What if she were the very ship which had been feeding some infernal - submarine or other?' he said in an undertone. - </p> - <p> - “The other started. Then, with conviction: - </p> - <p> - “'She would get off scot-free. You couldn't prove it, sir.' - </p> - <p> - “'I want to look into it myself.' - </p> - <p> - “'From the report we've heard I am afraid you couldn't even make a case - for reasonable suspicion, sir.' - </p> - <p> - “'I'll go on board all the same.' - </p> - <p> - “He had made up his mind. Curiosity is the great motive power of hatred - and love. What did he expect to find? He could not have told anybody—not - even himself. - </p> - <p> - “What he really expected to find there was the atmosphere, the atmosphere - of gratuitous treachery, which in his view nothing could excuse; for he - thought that even a passion of unrighteousness for its own sake could not - excuse that. But could he detect it? Sniff it? Taste it? Receive some - mysterious communication which would turn his invincible suspicions into a - certitude strong enough to provoke action with all its risks? - </p> - <p> - “The master met him on the after-deck, looming up in the fog amongst the - blurred shapes of the usual snip's fittings. He was a robust Northman, - bearded, and in the force of his age. A round leather cap fitted his head - closely. His hands were rammed deep into the pockets of his short leather - jacket. He kept them there while lie explained that at sea he lived in the - chart-room, and led the way there, striding carelessly. Just before - reaching the door under the bridge he staggered a little, recovered - himself, flung it open, and stood aside, leaning his shoulder as if - involuntarily against the side of the house, and staring vaguely into the - fog-filled space. But he followed the commanding officer at once, flung - the door to, snapped on the electric light, and hastened to thrust his - hands back into his pockets, as though afraid of being seized by them - either in friendship or in hostility. - </p> - <p> - “The place was stuffy and hot. The usual chart-rack overhead was full, and - the chart on the table was kept unrolled by an empty cup standing on a - saucer half-full of some spilt dark liquid. A slightly nibbled biscuit - reposed on the chronometer-case. There were two settees, and one of them - had been made up into a bed with a pillow and some blankets, which were - now very much tumbled. The Northman let himself fall on it, his hands - still in his pockets. - </p> - <p> - “'Well, here I am,' he said, with a curious air of being surprised at the - sound of his own voice. - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer from the other settee observed the handsome, - flushed face. Drops of fog hung on the yellow beard and moustaches of the - Northman. The much darker eyebrows ran together in a puzzled frown, and - suddenly he jumped up. - </p> - <p> - “'What I mean is that I don't know where I am. I really don't,' he burst - out, with extreme earnestness. 'Hang it all! I got turned around somehow. - The fog has been after me for a week. More than a week. And then my - engines broke down. I will tell you how it was.' - </p> - <p> - “He burst out into loquacity. It was not hurried, but it was insistent. It - was not continuous for all that. It was broken by the most queer, - thoughtful pauses. Each of these pauses lasted no more than a couple of - seconds, and each had the profoundity of an endless meditation. When he - began again nothing betrayed in him the slightest consciousness of these - intervals. There was the same fixed glance, the same unchanged earnestness - of tone. He didn't know. Indeed, more than one of these pauses occurred in - the middle of a sentence. - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer listened to the tale. It struck him as more - plausible than simple truth is in the habit of being. But that, perhaps, - was prejudice. All the time the Northman was speaking the commanding - officer had been aware of an inward voice, a grave murmur in the depth of - his very own self, telling another tale, as if on purpose to keep alive in - him his indignation and his anger with that baseness of greed or of mere - outlook which lies often at the root of simple ideas. - </p> - <p> - “It was the story that had been already told to the boarding officer an - hour or so before. The commanding officer nodded slightly at the Northman - from time to time. The latter came to an end and turned his eyes away. He - added, as an afterthought: - </p> - <p> - “'Wasn't it enough to drive a man out of his mind with worry? And it's my - first voyage to this part, too. And the ship's my own. Your officer has - seen the papers. She isn't much, as you can see for yourself. Just an old - cargo-boat. Bare living for my family.' - </p> - <p> - “He raised a big arm to point at a row of photographs plastering the - bulkhead. The movement was ponderous, as if the arm had been made of lead. - The commanding officer said, carelessly: - </p> - <p> - “'You will be making a fortune yet for your family with this old ship.' - </p> - <p> - “'Yes, if I don't lose her,' said the Northman, gloomily. - </p> - <p> - “'I mean—out of this war,' added the commanding officer. - </p> - <p> - “The Northman stared at him in a curiously unseeing and at the same time - interested manner, as only eyes of a particular blue shade can stare. - </p> - <p> - “'And you wouldn't be angry at it,' he said, 'would you? You are too much - of a gentleman. We didn't bring this on you. And suppose we sat down and - cried. What good would that be? Let those cry who made the trouble,' he - concluded, with energy. 'Time's money, you say. Well—<i>this</i> - time <i>is</i> money. Oh! isn't it!' - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer tried to keep under the feeling of immense - disgust. He said to himself that it was unreasonable. Men were like that—moral - cannibals feeding on each other's misfortunes. He said aloud: - </p> - <p> - “'You have made it perfectly plain how it is that you are here. Your - log-book confirms you very minutely. Of course, a log-book may be cooked. - Nothing easier.' - </p> - <p> - “The Northman never moved a muscle. He was gazing at the floor; he seemed - not to have heard. He raised his head after a while. - </p> - <p> - “'But you can't suspect me of anything,' he muttered, negligently. - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer thought: 'Why should he say this?' - </p> - <p> - “Immediately afterwards the man before him added: 'My cargo is for an - English port.' - </p> - <p> - “His voice had turned husky for the moment. The commanding officer - reflected: 'That's true. There can be nothing. I can't suspect him. Yet - why was he lying with steam up in this fog—and then, hearing us come - in, why didn't he give some sign of life? Why? Could it be anything else - but a guilty conscience? He could tell by the leadsmen that this was a - man-of-war.' - </p> - <p> - “Yes—why? The commanding officer went on thinking: 'Suppose I ask - him and then watch his face. He will betray himself in some way. It's - perfectly plain that the fellow <i>has</i> been drinking. Yes, he has been - drinking; but he will have a lie ready all the same.' The commanding - officer was one of those men who are made morally and almost physically - uncomfortable by the mere thought of having to beat down a lie. He shrank - from the act in scorn and disgust, which were invincible because more - temperamental than moral. - </p> - <p> - “So he went out on deck instead and had the crew mustered formally for his - inspection. He found them very much what the report of the boarding - officer had led him to expect. And from their answers to his questions he - could discover no flaw in the log-book story. - </p> - <p> - “He dismissed them. His impression of them was—a picked lot; have - been promised a fistful of money each if this came off; all slightly - anxious, but not frightened. Not a single one of them likely to give the - show away. They don't feel in danger of their life. They know England and - English ways too well! - </p> - <p> - “He felt alarmed at catching himself thinking as if his vaguest suspicions - were turning into a certitude. For, indeed, there was no shadow of reason - for his inferences. There was nothing to give away. - </p> - <p> - “He returned to the chart-room. The Northman had lingered behind there; - and something subtly different in his bearing, more bold in his blue, - glassy stare, induced the commanding officer to conclude that the fellow - had snatched at the opportunity to take another swig at the bottle he must - have had concealed somewhere. - </p> - <p> - “He noticed, too, that the Northman on meeting his eyes put on an - elaborately surprised expression. At least, it seemed elaborated. Nothing - could be trusted. And the Englishman felt himself with astonishing - conviction faced by an enormous lie, solid like a wall, with no way round - to get at the truth, whose ugly murderous face he seemed to see peeping - over at him with a cynical grin. - </p> - <p> - “'I dare say,' he began, suddenly, 'you are wondering at my proceedings, - though I am not detaining you, am I? You wouldn't dare to move in this - fog?' - </p> - <p> - “'I don't know where I am,' the Northman ejaculated, earnestly. 'I really - don't.' - </p> - <p> - “He looked around as if the very chart-room fittings were strange to him. - The commanding officer asked him whether he had not seen any unusual - objects floating about while he was at sea. - </p> - <p> - “'Objects! What objects? We were groping blind in the fog for days.' - </p> - <p> - “'We had a few clear intervals' said the commanding officer. 'And I'll - tell you what we have seen and the conclusion I've come to about it.' - </p> - <p> - “He told him in a few words. He heard the sound of a sharp breath indrawn - through closed teeth. The Northman with his hand on the table stood - absolutely motionless and dumb. He stood as if thunderstruck. Then he - produced a fatuous smile. - </p> - <p> - “Or at least so it appeared to the commanding officer. Was this - significant, or of no meaning whatever? He didn't know, he couldn't tell. - All the truth had departed out of the world as if drawn in, absorbed in - this monstrous villainy this man was—or was not—guilty of. - </p> - <p> - “'Shooting's too good for people that conceive neutrality in this pretty - way,' remarked the commanding officer, after a silence. - </p> - <p> - “'Yes, yes, yes,' the Northman assented, hurriedly—then added an - unexpected and dreamy-voiced 'Perhaps.' - </p> - <p> - “Was he pretending to be drunk, or only trying to appear sober? His glance - was straight, but it was somewhat glazed. His lips outlined themselves - firmly under his yellow moustache. But they twitched. Did they twitch? And - why was he drooping like this in his attitude? - </p> - <p> - “'There's no perhaps about it,' pronounced the commanding officer sternly. - </p> - <p> - “The Northman had straightened himself. And unexpectedly he looked stern, - too. - </p> - <p> - “'No. But what about the tempters? Better kill that lot off. There's about - four, five, six million of them,' he said, grimly; but in a moment changed - into a whining key. 'But I had better hold my tongue. You have some - suspicions.' - </p> - <p> - “'No, I've no suspicions,' declared the commanding officer. - </p> - <p> - “He never faltered. At that moment he had the certitude. The air of the - chart-room was thick with guilt and falsehood braving the discovery, - defying simple right, common decency, all humanity of feeling, every - scruple of conduct. - </p> - <p> - “The Northman drew a long breath. 'Well, we know that you English are - gentlemen. But let us speak the truth. Why should we love you so very - much? You haven't done anything to be loved. We don't love the other - people, of course. They haven't done anything for that either. A fellow - comes along with a bag of gold... I haven't been in Rotterdam my last - voyage for nothing.' - </p> - <p> - “'You may be able to tell something interesting, then, to our people when - you come into port,' interjected the officer. - </p> - <p> - “I might. But you keep some people in your pay at Rotterdam. Let them - report. I am a neutral—am I not?... Have you ever seen a poor man on - one side and a bag of gold on the other? Of course, I couldn't be tempted. - I haven't the nerve for it. Really I haven't. It's nothing to me. I am - just talking openly for once.' - </p> - <p> - “'Yes. And I am listening to you,' said the commanding officer, quietly. - </p> - <p> - “The Northman leaned forward over the table. 'Now that I know you have no - suspicions, I talk. You don't know what a poor man is. I do. I am poor - myself. This old ship, she isn't much, and she is mortgaged, too. Bare - living, no more. Of course, I wouldn't have the nerve. But a man who has - nerve! See. The stuff he takes aboard looks like any other cargo—packages, - barrels, tins, copper tubes—what not. He doesn't see it work. It - isn't real to him. But he sees the gold. That's real. Of course, nothing - could induce me. I suffer from an internal disease. I would either go - crazy from anxiety—or—or—take to drink or something. The - risk is too great. Why—ruin!' - </p> - <p> - “'It should be death.' The commanding officer got up, after this curt - declaration, which the other received with a hard stare oddly combined - with an uncertain smile. The officer's gorge rose at the atmosphere of - murderous complicity which surrounded him, denser, more impenetrable, more - acrid than the fog outside. - </p> - <p> - “'It's nothing to me,' murmured the Northman, swaying visibly. - </p> - <p> - “'Of course not,' assented the commanding officer, with a great effort to - keep his voice calm and low. The certitude was strong within him. 'But I - am going to clear all you fellows off this coast at once. And I will begin - with you. You must leave in half an hour.' - </p> - <p> - “By that time the officer was walking along the deck with the Northman at - his elbow. - </p> - <p> - “'What! In this fog?' the latter cried out, huskily. - </p> - <p> - “'Yes, you will have to go in this fog.' - </p> - <p> - “'But I don't know where I am. I really don't.' - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer turned round. A sort of fury possessed him. The - eyes of the two men met. Those of the Northman expressed a profound - amazement. - </p> - <p> - “'Oh, you don't know how to get out.' The commanding officer spoke with - composure, but his heart was beating with anger and dread. 'I will give - you your course. Steer south-by-east-half-east for about four miles and - then you will be clear to haul to the eastward for your port. The weather - will clear up before very long.' - </p> - <p> - “'Must I? What could induce me? I haven't the nerve.' - </p> - <p> - “'And yet you must go. Unless you want to———' - </p> - <p> - “'I don't want to,' panted the Northman. 'I've enough of it.' - </p> - <p> - “The commanding officer got over the side. The Northman remained still as - if rooted to the deck. Before his boat reached his ship the commanding - officer heard the steamer beginning to pick up her anchor. Then, shadowy - in the fog, she steamed out on the given course. - </p> - <p> - “'Yes,' he said to his officers, 'I let him go.'” - </p> - <p> - The narrator bent forward towards the couch, where no movement betrayed - the presence of a living person. - </p> - <p> - “Listen,” he said, forcibly. “That course would lead the Northman straight - on a deadly ledge of rock. And the commanding officer gave it to him. He - steamed out—ran on it—and went down. So he had spoken the - truth. He did not know where he was. But it proves nothing. Nothing either - way. It may have been the only truth in all his story. And yet... He seems - to have been driven out by a menacing stare—nothing more.” - </p> - <p> - He abandoned all pretence. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I gave that course to him. It seemed to me a supreme test. I believe—no, - I don't believe. I don't know. At the time I was certain. They all went - down; and I don't know whether I have done stern retribution—or - murder; whether I have added to the corpses that litter the bed of the - unreadable sea the bodies of men completely innocent or basely guilty. I - don't know. I shall never know.” - </p> - <p> - He rose. The woman on the couch got up and threw her arms round his neck. - Her eyes put two gleams in the deep shadow of the room. She knew his - passion for truth, his horror of deceit, his humanity. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my poor, poor———” - </p> - <p> - “I shall never know,” he repeated, sternly, disengaged himself, pressed - her hands to his lips, and went out. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - THE BLACK MATE <br /> (1884) - </h2> - <p> - A good many years ago there were several ships loading at the Jetty, - London Dock. I am speaking here of the 'eighties of the last century, of - the time when London had plenty of fine ships in the docks, though not so - many fine buildings in its streets. - </p> - <p> - The ships at the Jetty were fine enough; they lay one behind the other; - and the __Sapphire__, third from the end, was as good as the rest of them, - and nothing more. Each ship at the Jetty had, of course, her chief officer - on board. So had every other ship in dock. - </p> - <p> - The policeman at the gates knew them all by sight, without being able to - say at once, without thinking, to what ship any particular man belonged. - As a matter of fact, the mates of the ships then lying in the London Dock - were like the majority of officers in the Merchant Service—a steady, - hard-working, staunch, un-romantic-looking set of men, belonging to - various classes of society, but with the professional stamp obliterating - the personal characteristics, which were not very marked anyhow. - </p> - <p> - This last was true of them all, with the exception of the mate of the <i>Sapphire</i>. - Of him the policemen could not be in doubt. This one had a presence. - </p> - <p> - He was noticeable to them in the street from a great distance; and when in - the morning he strode down the Jetty to his ship, the lumpers and the dock - labourers rolling the bales and trundling the cases of cargo on their - hand-trucks would remark to each other: - </p> - <p> - “Here's the black mate coming along.” - </p> - <p> - That was the name they gave him, being a gross lot, who could have no - appreciation of the man's dignified bearing. And to call him black was the - superficial impressionism of the ignorant. - </p> - <p> - Of course, Mr. Bunter, the mate of the <i>Sapphire</i>, was not black. He - was no more black than you or I, and certainly as white as any chief mate - of a ship in the whole of the Port of London. His complexion was of the - sort that did not take the tan easily; and I happen to know that the poor - fellow had had a month's illness just before he joined the <i>Sapphire</i>. - </p> - <p> - From this you will perceive that I knew Bunter. Of course I knew him. And, - what's more, I knew his secret at the time, this secret which—never - mind just now. Returning to Bunter's personal appearance, it was nothing - but ignorant prejudice on the part of the foreman stevedore to say, as he - did in my hearing: “I bet he's a furriner of some sort.” A man may have - black hair without being set down for a Dago. I have known a West-country - sailor, boatswain of a fine ship, who looked more Spanish than any - Spaniard afloat I've ever met. He looked like a Spaniard in a picture. - </p> - <p> - Competent authorities tell us that this earth is to be finally the - inheritance of men with dark hair and brown eyes. It seems that already - the great majority of mankind is dark-haired in various shades. But it is - only when you meet one that you notice how men with really black hair, - black as ebony, are rare. Bunter's hair was absolutely black, black as a - raven's wing. He wore, too, all his beard (clipped, but a good length all - the same), and his eyebrows were thick and bushy. Add to this steely blue - eyes, which in a fair-haired man would have been nothing so extraordinary, - but in that sombre framing made a startling contrast, and you will easily - understand that Bunter was noticeable enough. - </p> - <p> - If it had not been for the quietness of his movements, for the general - soberness of his demeanour, one would have given him credit for a fiercely - passionate nature. - </p> - <p> - Of course, he was not in his first youth; but if the expression “in the - force of his age” has any meaning, he realized it completely. He was a - tall man, too, though rather spare. Seeing him from his poop indefatigably - busy with his duties, Captain Ashton, of the clipper ship <i>Elsinore</i>, - lying just ahead of the <i>Sapphire</i>, remarked once to a friend that - “Johns has got somebody there to hustle his ship along for him.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns, master of the <i>Sapphire</i>, having commanded ships for - many years, was well known without being much respected or liked. In the - company of his fellows he was either neglected or chaffed. The chaffing - was generally undertaken by Captain Ashton, a cynical and teasing sort of - man. It was Captain Ashton who permitted himself the unpleasant joke of - proclaiming once in company that “Johns is of the opinion that every - sailor above forty years of age ought to be poisoned—shipmasters in - actual command excepted.” - </p> - <p> - It was in a City restaurant, where several well-known shipmasters were - having lunch together. There was Captain Ashton, florid and jovial, in a - large white waistcoat and with a yellow rose in his buttonhole; Captain - Sellers in a sack-coat, thin and pale-faced, with his iron-gray hair - tucked behind his ears, and, but for the absence of spectacles, looking - like an ascetical mild man of books; Captain Hell, a bluff sea-dog with - hairy fingers, in blue serge and a black felt hat pushed far back off his - crimson forehead. There was also a very young shipmaster, with a little - fair moustache and serious eyes, who said nothing, and only smiled faintly - from time to time. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns, very much startled, raised his perplexed and credulous - glance, which, together with a low and horizontally wrinkled brow, did not - make a very intellectual <i>ensemble</i>. This impression was by no means - mended by the slightly pointed form of his bald head. - </p> - <p> - Everybody laughed outright, and, thus guided, Captain Johns ended by - smiling rather sourly, and attempted to defend himself. It was all very - well to joke, but nowadays, when ships, to pay anything at all, had to be - driven hard on the passage and in harbour, the sea was no place for - elderly men. Only young men and men in their prime were equal to modern - conditions of push and hurry. Look at the great firms: almost every single - one of them was getting rid of men showing any signs of age. He, for one, - didn't want any oldsters on board his ship. - </p> - <p> - And, indeed, in this opinion Captain Johns was not singular. There was at - that time a lot of seamen, with nothing against them but that they were - grizzled, wearing out the soles of their last pair of boots on the - pavements of the City in the heart-breaking search for a berth. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns added with a sort of ill-humoured innocence that from - holding that opinion to thinking of poisoning people was a very long step. - </p> - <p> - This seemed final but Captain Ashton would not let go his joke. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. I am sure you would. You said distinctly 'of no use.' What's to - be done with men who are 'of no use?' You are a kind-hearted fellow, - Johns. I am sure that if only you thought it over carefully you would - consent to have them poisoned in some painless manner.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Sellers twitched his thin, sinuous lips. - </p> - <p> - “Make ghosts of them,” he suggested, pointedly. - </p> - <p> - At the mention of ghosts Captain Johns became shy, in his perplexed, sly, - and unlovely manner. - </p> - <p> - Captain Ashton winked. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. And then perhaps you would get a chance to have a communication with - the world of spirits. Surely the ghosts of seamen should haunt ships. Some - of them would be sure to call on an old shipmate.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Sellers remarked drily: - </p> - <p> - “Don't raise his hopes like this. It's cruel. He won't see anything. You - know, Johns, that nobody has ever seen a ghost.” - </p> - <p> - At this intolerable provocation Captain Johns came out of his reserve. - With no perplexity whatever, but with a positive passion of credulity - giving momentary lustre to his dull little eyes, he brought up a lot of - authenticated instances. There were books and books full of instances. It - was merest ignorance to deny supernatural apparitions. Cases were - published every month in a special newspaper. Professor Cranks saw ghosts - daily. And Professor Cranks was no small potatoes either. One of the - biggest scientific men living. And there was that newspaper fellow—what's - his name?—who had a girl-ghost visitor. He printed in his paper - things she said to him. And to say there were no ghosts after that! - </p> - <p> - “Why, they have been photographed! What more proof do you want?” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns was indignant. Captain Bell's lips twitched, but Captain - Ashton protested now. - </p> - <p> - “For goodness' sake don't keep him going with that. And by the by, Johns, - who's that hairy pirate you've got for your new mate? Nobody in the Dock - seems to have seen him before.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns, pacified by the change of subjects, answered simply that - Willy, the tobacconist at the corner of Fenchurch Street, had sent him - along. - </p> - <p> - Willy, his shop, and the very house in Fenchurch Street, I believe, are - gone now. In his time, wearing a careworn, absent-minded look on his pasty - face, Willy served with tobacco many southern-going ships out of the Port - of London. At certain times of the day the shop would be full of - shipmasters. They sat on casks, they lounged against the counter. - </p> - <p> - Many a youngster found his first lift in life there; many a man got a - sorely needed berth by simply dropping in for four pennyworth of - birds'-eye at an auspicious moment. Even Willy's assistant, a redheaded, - uninterested, delicate-looking young fellow, would hand you across the - counter sometimes a bit of valuable intelligence with your box of - cigarettes, in a whisper, lips hardly moving, thus: “The <i>Bellona</i>, - South Dock. Second officer wanted. You may be in time for it if you hurry - up.” - </p> - <p> - And didn't one just fly! - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Willy sent him,” said Captain Ashton. “He's a very striking man. If - you were to put a red sash round his waist and a red handkerchief round - his head he would look exactly like one of them buccaneering chaps that - made men walk the plank and carried women off into captivity. Look out, - Johns, he don't cut your throat for you and run off with the <i>Sapphire</i>. - What ship has he come out of last?” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns, after looking up credulously as usual, wrinkled his brow, - and said placidly that the man had seen better days. His name was Bunter. - </p> - <p> - “He's had command of a Liverpool ship, the <i>Samaria</i>, some years ago. - He lost her in the Indian Ocean, and had his certificate suspended for a - year. Ever since then he has not been able to get another command. He's - been knocking about in the Western Ocean trade lately.” - </p> - <p> - “That accounts for him being a stranger to everybody about the Docks,” - Captain Ashton concluded as they rose from table. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns walked down to the Dock after lunch. He was short of stature - and slightly bandy. His appearance did not inspire the generality of - mankind with esteem; but it must have been otherwise with his employers. - He had the reputation of being an uncomfortable commander, meticulous in - trifles, always nursing a grievance of some sort and incessantly nagging. - He was not a man to kick up a row with you and be done with it, but to say - nasty things in a whining voice; a man capable of making one's life a - perfect misery if he took a dislike to an officer. - </p> - <p> - That very evening I went to see Bunter on board, and sympathized with him - on his prospects for the voyage. He was subdued. I suppose a man with a - secret locked up in his breast loses his buoyancy. And there was another - reason why I could not expect Bunter to show a great elasticity of - spirits. For one thing he had been very seedy lately, and besides—but - of that later. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns had been on board that afternoon and had loitered and dodged - about his chief mate in a manner which had annoyed Bunter exceedingly. - </p> - <p> - “What could he mean?” he asked with calm exasperation. “One would think he - suspected I had stolen something and tried to see in what pocket I had - stowed it away; or that somebody told him I had a tail and he wanted to - find out how I managed to conceal it. I don't like to be approached from - behind several times in one afternoon in that creepy way and then to be - looked up at suddenly in front from under my elbow. Is it a new sort of - peep-bo game? It doesn't amuse me. I am no longer a baby.” - </p> - <p> - I assured him that if anyone were to tell Captain Johns that he—Bunter—had - a tail, Johns would manage to get himself to believe the story in some - mysterious manner. He would. He was suspicious and credulous to an - inconceivable degree. He would believe any silly tale, suspect any man of - anything, and crawl about with it and ruminate the stuff, and turn it over - and over in his mind in the most miserable, inwardly whining perplexity. - He would take the meanest possible view in the end, and discover the - meanest possible course of action by a sort of natural genius for that - sort of thing. - </p> - <p> - Bunter also told me that the mean creature had crept all over the ship on - his little, bandy legs, taking him along to grumble and whine to about a - lot of trifles. Crept about the decks like a wretched insect—like a - cockroach, only not so lively. - </p> - <p> - Thus did the self-possessed Bunter express himself with great disgust. - Then, going on with his usual stately deliberation, made sinister by the - frown of his jet-black eyebrows: - </p> - <p> - “And the fellow is mad, too. He tried to be sociable for a bit, and could - find nothing else but to make big eyes at me, and ask me if I believed 'in - communication beyond the grave.' Communication beyond—I didn't know - what he meant at first. I didn't know what to say. 'A very solemn subject, - Mr. Bunter,' says he. I've given a great deal of study to it.” - </p> - <p> - Had Johns lived on shore he would have been the predestined prey of - fraudulent mediums; or even if he had had any decent opportunities between - the voyages. Luckily for him, when in England, he lived somewhere far away - in Leytonstone, with a maiden sister ten years older than himself, a - fearsome virago twice his size, before whom he trembled. It was said she - bullied him terribly in general; and in the particular instance of his - spiritualistic leanings she had her own views. - </p> - <p> - These leanings were to her simply satanic. She was reported as having - declared that, “With God's help, she would prevent that fool from giving - himself up to the Devils.” It was beyond doubt that Johns' secret ambition - was to get into personal communication with the spirits of the dead—if - only his sister would let him. But she was adamant. I was told that while - in London he had to account to her for every penny of the money he took - with him in the morning, and for every hour of his time. And she kept the - bankbook, too. - </p> - <p> - Bunter (he had been a wild youngster, but he was well connected; had - ancestors; there was a family tomb somewhere in the home counties)—Bunter - was indignant, perhaps on account of his own dead. Those steely-blue eyes - of his flashed with positive ferocity out of that black-bearded face. He - impressed me—there was so much dark passion in his leisurely - contempt. - </p> - <p> - “The cheek of the fellow! Enter into relations with... A mean little cad - like this! It would be an impudent intrusion. He wants to enter!... What - is it? A new sort of snobbishness or what?” - </p> - <p> - I laughed outright at this original view of spiritism—or whatever - the ghost craze is called. Even Bunter himself condescended to smile. But - it was an austere, quickly vanished smile. A man in his almost, I may say, - tragic position couldn't be expected—you understand. He was really - worried. He was ready eventually to put up with any dirty trick in the - course of the voyage. A man could not expect much consideration should he - find himself at the mercy of a fellow like Johns. A misfortune is a - misfortune, and there's an end of it. But to be bored by mean, - low-spirited, inane ghost stories in the Johns style, all the way out to - Calcutta and back again, was an intolerable apprehension to be under. - Spiritism was indeed a solemn subject to think about in that light. - Dreadful, even! - </p> - <p> - Poor fellow! Little we both thought that before very long he himself... - However, I could give him no comfort. I was rather appalled myself. - </p> - <p> - Bunter had also another annoyance that day. A confounded berthing master - came on board on some pretence or other, but in reality, Bunter thought, - simply impelled by an inconvenient curiosity—inconvenient to Bunter, - that is. After some beating about the bush, that man suddenly said: - </p> - <p> - “I can't help thinking. I've seen you before somewhere, Mr. Mate. If I - heard your name, perhaps Bunter—” - </p> - <p> - That's the worst of a life with a mystery in it—he was much alarmed. - It was very likely that the man had seen him before—worse luck to - his excellent memory. Bunter himself could not be expected to remember - every casual dock walloper he might have had to do with. Bunter brazened - it out by turning upon the man, making use of that impressive, - black-as-night sternness of expression his unusual hair furnished him - with: - </p> - <p> - “My name's Bunter, sir. Does that enlighten your inquisitive intellect? - And I don't ask what your name may be. I don't want to know. I've no use - for it, sir. An individual who calmly tells me to my face that he is <i>not - sure</i> if he has seen me before, either means to be impudent or is no - better than a worm, sir. Yes, I said a worm—a blind worm!” - </p> - <p> - Brave Bunter. That was the line to take. He fairly drove the beggar out of - the ship, as if every word had been a blow. But the pertinacity of that - brass-bound Paul Pry was astonishing. He cleared out of the ship, of - course, before Bunter's ire, not saying anything, and only trying to cover - up his retreat by a sickly smile. But once on the Jetty he turned - deliberately round, and set himself to stare in dead earnest at the ship. - He remained planted there like a mooring-post, absolutely motionless, and - with his stupid eyes winking no more than a pair of cabin portholes. - </p> - <p> - What could Bunter do? It was awkward for him, you know. He could not go - and put his head into the bread-locker. What he did was to take up a - position abaft the mizzen-rigging, and stare back as unwinking as the - other. So they remained, and I don't know which of them grew giddy first; - but the man on the Jetty, not having the advantage of something to hold on - to, got tired the soonest, flung his arm, giving the contest up, as it - were, and went away at last. - </p> - <p> - Bunter told me he was glad the <i>Sapphire</i>, “that gem amongst ships” - as he alluded to her sarcastically, was going to sea next day. He had had - enough of the Dock. I understood his impatience. He had steeled himself - against any possible worry the voyage might bring, though it is clear - enough now that he was not prepared for the extraordinary experience that - was awaiting him already, and in no other part of the world than the - Indian Ocean itself; the very part of the world where the poor fellow had - lost his ship and had broken his luck, as it seemed for good and all, at - the same time. - </p> - <p> - As to his remorse in regard to a certain secret action of his life, well, - I understand that a man of Bunter's fine character would suffer not a - little. Still, between ourselves, and without the slightest wish to be - cynical, it cannot be denied that with the noblest of us the fear of being - found out enters for some considerable part into the composition of - remorse. I didn't say this in so many words to Bunter, but, as the poor - fellow harped a bit on it, I told him that there were skeletons in a good - many honest cupboards, and that, as to his own particular guilt, it wasn't - writ large on his face for everybody to see—so he needn't worry as - to that. And besides, he would be gone to sea in about twelve hours from - now. - </p> - <p> - He said there was some comfort in that thought, and went off then to spend - his last evening for many months with his wife. For all his wildness, - Bunter had made no mistake in his marrying. He had married a lady. A - perfect lady. She was a dear little woman, too. As to her pluck, I, who - know what times they had to go through, I cannot admire her enough for it. - Real, hard-wearing every day and day after day pluck that only a woman is - capable of when she is of the right sort—the undismayed sort I would - call it. - </p> - <p> - The black mate felt this parting with his wife more than any of the - previous ones in all the years of bad luck. But she was of the undismayed - kind, and showed less trouble in her gentle face than the black-haired, - buccaneer-like, but dignified mate of the <i>Sapphire</i>. It may be that - her conscience was less disturbed than her husband's. Of course, his life - had no secret places for her; but a woman's conscience is somewhat more - resourceful in finding good and valid excuses. It depends greatly on the - person that needs them, too. - </p> - <p> - They had agreed that she should not come down to the Dock to see him off. - “I wonder you care to look at me at all,” said the sensitive man. And she - did not laugh. - </p> - <p> - Bunter was very sensitive; he left her rather brusquely at the last. He - got on board in good time, and produced the usual impression on the - mud-pilot in the broken-down straw hat who took the <i>Sapphire</i> out of - dock. The river-man was very polite to the dignified, striking-looking - chief mate. “The five-inch manilla for the check-rope, Mr.—Bunter, - thank you—Mr. Bunter, please.” The sea-pilot who left the “gem of - ships” heading comfortably down Channel off Dover told some of his friends - that, this voyage, the <i>Sapphire</i> had for chief mate a man who seemed - a jolly sight too good for old Johns. “Bunter's his name. I wonder where - he's sprung from? Never seen him before in any ship I piloted in or out - all these years. He's the sort of man you don't forget. You couldn't. A - thorough good sailor, too. And won't old Johns just worry his head off! - Unless the old fool should take fright at him—for he does not seem - the sort of man that would let himself be put upon without letting you - know what he thinks of you. And that's exactly what old Johns would be - more afraid of than of anything else.” - </p> - <p> - As this is really meant to be the record of a spiritualistic experience - which came, if not precisely to Captain Johns himself, at any rate to his - ship, there is no use in recording the other events of the passage out. It - was an ordinary passage, the crew was an ordinary crew, the weather was of - the usual kind. The black mate's quiet, sedate method of going to work had - given a sober tone to the life of the ship. Even in gales of wind - everything went on quietly somehow. - </p> - <p> - There was only one severe blow which made things fairly lively for all - hands for full four-and-twenty hours. That was off the coast of Africa, - after passing the Cape of Good Hope. At the very height of it several - heavy seas were shipped with no serious results, but there was a - considerable smashing of breakable objects in the pantry and in the - staterooms. Mr. Bunter, who was so greatly respected on board, found - himself treated scurvily by the Southern Ocean, which, bursting open the - door of his room like a ruffianly burglar, carried off several useful - things, and made all the others extremely wet. - </p> - <p> - Later, on the same day, the Southern Ocean caused the <i>Sapphire</i> to - lurch over in such an unrestrained fashion that the two drawers fitted - under Mr. Bunter's sleeping-berth flew out altogether, spilling all their - contents. They ought, of course, to have been locked, and Mr. Bunter had - only to thank himself for what had happened. He ought to have turned the - key on each before going out on deck. - </p> - <p> - His consternation was very great. The steward, who was paddling about all - the time with swabs, trying to dry out the flooded cuddy, heard him - exclaim “Hallo!” in a startled and dismayed tone. In the midst of his work - the steward felt a sympathetic concern for the mate's distress. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns was secretly glad when he heard of the damage. He was indeed - afraid of his chief mate, as the sea-pilot had ventured to foretell, and - afraid of him for the very reason the sea-pilot had put forward as likely. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns, therefore, would have liked very much to hold that black - mate of his at his mercy in some way or other. But the man was - irreproachable, as near absolute perfection as could be. And Captain Johns - was much annoyed, and at the same time congratulated himself on his chief - officer's efficiency. - </p> - <p> - He made a great show of living sociably with him, on the principle that - the more friendly you are with a man the more easily you may catch him - tripping; and also for the reason that he wanted to have somebody who - would listen to his stories of manifestations, apparitions, ghosts, and - all the rest of the imbecile spook-lore. He had it all at his fingers' - ends; and he spun those ghostly yarns in a persistent, colourless voice, - giving them a futile turn peculiarly his own. - </p> - <p> - “I like to converse with my officers,” he used to say. “There are masters - that hardly ever open their mouths from beginning to end of a passage for - fear of losing their dignity. What's that, after all—this bit of - position a man holds!” - </p> - <p> - His sociability was most to be dreaded in the second dog-watch, because he - was one of those men who grow lively towards the evening, and the officer - on duty was unable then to find excuses for leaving the poop. Captain - Johns would pop up the companion suddenly, and, sidling up in his creeping - way to poor Bunter, as he walked up and down, would fire into him some - spiritualistic proposition, such as: - </p> - <p> - “Spirits, male and female, show a good deal of refinement in a general - way, don't they?” - </p> - <p> - To which Bunter, holding his black-whiskered head high, would mutter: - </p> - <p> - “I don't know.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! that's because you don't want to. You are the most obstinate, - prejudiced man I've ever met, Mr. Bunter. I told you you may have any book - out of my bookcase. You may just go into my stateroom and help yourself to - any volume.” - </p> - <p> - And if Bunter protested that he was too tired in his watches below to - spare any time for reading, Captain Johns would smile nastily behind his - back, and remark that of course some people needed more sleep than others - to keep themselves fit for their work. If Mr. Bunter was afraid of not - keeping properly awake when on duty at night, that was another matter. - </p> - <p> - “But I think you borrowed a novel to read from the second mate the other - day—a trashy pack of lies,” Captain Johns sighed. “I am afraid you - are not a spiritually minded man, Mr. Bunter. That's what's the matter.” - </p> - <p> - Sometimes he would appear on deck in the middle of the night, looking very - grotesque and bandy-legged in his sleeping suit. At that sight the - persecuted Bunter would wring his hands stealthily, and break out into - moisture all over his forehead. After standing sleepily by the binnacle, - scratching himself in an unpleasant manner, Captain Johns was sure to - start on some aspect or other of his only topic. - </p> - <p> - He would, for instance, discourse on the improvement of morality to be - expected from the establishment of general and close intercourse with the - spirits of the departed. The spirits, Captain Johns thought, would consent - to associate familiarly with the living if it were not for the unbelief of - the great mass of mankind. He himself would not care to have anything to - do with a crowd that would not believe in his—Captain Johns'—existence. - Then why should a spirit? This was asking too much. - </p> - <p> - He went on breathing hard by the binnacle and trying to reach round his - shoulder-blades; then, with a thick, drowsy severity, declared: - </p> - <p> - “Incredulity, sir, is the evil of the age!” - </p> - <p> - It rejected the evidence of Professor Cranks and of the journalist chap. - It resisted the production of photographs. - </p> - <p> - For Captain Johns believed firmly that certain spirits had been - photographed. He had read something of it in the papers. And the idea of - it having been done had got a tremendous hold on him, because his mind was - not critical. Bunter said afterwards that nothing could be more weird than - this little man, swathed in a sleeping suit three sizes too large for him, - shuffling with excitement in the moonlight near the wheel, and shaking his - fist at the serene sea. - </p> - <p> - “Photographs! photographs!” he would repeat, in a voice as creaky as a - rusty hinge. - </p> - <p> - The very helmsman just behind him got uneasy at that performance, not - being capable of understanding exactly what the “old man was kicking up a - row with the mate about.” - </p> - <p> - Then Johns, after calming down a bit, would begin again. - </p> - <p> - “The sensitised plate can't lie. No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - Nothing could be more funny than this ridiculous little man's conviction—his - dogmatic tone. Bunter would go on swinging up and down the poop like a - deliberate, dignified pendulum. He said not a word. But the poor fellow - had not a trifle on his conscience, as you know; and to have imbecile - ghosts rammed down his throat like this on top of his own worry nearly - drove him crazy. He knew that on many occasions he was on the verge of - lunacy, because he could not help indulging in half-delirious visions of - Captain Johns being picked up by the scruff of the neck and dropped over - the taffrail into the ship's wake—the sort of thing no sane - sailorman would think of doing to a cat or any other animal, anyhow. He - imagined him bobbing up—a tiny black speck left far astern on the - moonlit ocean. - </p> - <p> - I don't think that even at the worst moments Bunter really desired to - drown Captain Johns. I fancy that all his disordered imagination longed - for was merely to stop the ghostly inanity of the skipper's talk. - </p> - <p> - But, all the same, it was a dangerous form of self-indulgence. Just - picture to yourself that ship in the Indian Ocean, on a clear, tropical - night, with her sails full and still, the watch on deck stowed away out of - sight; and on her poop, flooded with moonlight, the stately black mate - walking up and down with measured, dignified steps, preserving an awful - silence, and that grotesquely mean little figure in striped flannelette - alternately creaking and droning of “personal intercourse beyond the - grave.” - </p> - <p> - It makes me creepy all over to think of. And sometimes the folly of - Captain Johns would appear clothed in a sort of weird utilitarianism. How - useful it would be if the spirits of the departed could be induced to take - a practical interest in the affairs of the living! What a help, say, to - the police, for instance, in the detection of crime! The number of - murders, at any rate, would be considerably reduced, he guessed with an - air of great sagacity. Then he would give way to grotesque discouragement. - </p> - <p> - Where was the use of trying to communicate with people that had no faith, - and more likely than not would scorn the offered information? Spirits had - their feelings. They were <i>all</i> feelings in a way. But he was - surprised at the forbearance shown towards murderers by their victims. - That was the sort of apparition that no guilty man would dare to - pooh-pooh. And perhaps the undiscovered murderers—whether believing - or not—were haunted. They wouldn't be likely to boast about it, - would they? - </p> - <p> - “For myself,” he pursued, in a sort of vindictive, malevolent whine, “if - anybody murdered me I would not let him forget it. I would wither him up—I - would terrify him to death.” - </p> - <p> - The idea of his skipper's ghost terrifying anyone was so ludicrous that - the black mate, little disposed to mirth as he was, could not help giving - vent to a weary laugh. - </p> - <p> - And this laugh, the only acknowledgment of a long and earnest discourse, - offended Captain Johns. - </p> - <p> - “What's there to laugh at in this conceited manner, Mr. Bunter?” he - snarled. “Supernatural visitations have terrified better men than you. - Don't you allow me enough soul to make a ghost of?” - </p> - <p> - I think it was the nasty tone that caused Bunter to stop short and turn - about. - </p> - <p> - “I shouldn't wonder,” went on the angry fanatic of spiritism, “if you - weren't one of them people that take no more account of a man than if he - were a beast. You would be capable, I don't doubt, to deny the possession - of an immortal soul to your own father.” - </p> - <p> - And then Bunter, being bored beyond endurance, and also exasperated by the - private worry, lost his self-possession. - </p> - <p> - He walked up suddenly to Captain Johns, and, stooping a little to look - close into his face, said, in a low, even tone: - </p> - <p> - “You don't know what a man like me is capable of.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns threw his head back, but was too astonished to budge. Bunter - resumed his walk; and for a long time his measured footsteps and the low - wash of the water alongside were the only sounds which troubled the - silence brooding over the great waters. Then Captain Johns cleared his - throat uneasily, and, after sidling away towards the companion for greater - safety, plucked up enough courage to retreat under an act of authority: - </p> - <p> - “Raise the starboard clew of the mainsail, and lay the yards dead square, - Mr. Bunter. Don't you see the wind is nearly right aft?” - </p> - <p> - Bunter at once answered “Ay, ay, sir,” though there was not the slightest - necessity to touch the yards, and the wind was well out on the quarter. - While he was executing the order Captain Johns hung on the - companion-steps, growling to himself: “Walk this poop like an admiral and - don't even notice when the yards want trimming!”—loud enough for the - helmsman to overhear. Then he sank slowly backwards out of the man's - sight; and when he reached the bottom of the stairs he stood still and - thought. - </p> - <p> - “He's an awful ruffian, with all his gentlemanly airs. No more gentleman - mates for me.” - </p> - <p> - Two nights afterwards he was slumbering peacefully in his berth, when a - heavy thumping just above his head (a well-understood signal that he was - wanted on deck) made him leap out of bed, broad awake in a moment. - </p> - <p> - “What's up?” he muttered, running out barefooted. On passing through the - cabin he glanced at the clock. It was the middle watch. “What on earth can - the mate want me for?” he thought. - </p> - <p> - Bolting out of the companion, he found a clear, dewy moonlit night and a - strong, steady breeze. He looked around wildly. There was no one on the - poop except the helmsman, who addressed him at once. - </p> - <p> - “It was me, sir. I let go the wheel for a second to stamp over your head. - I am afraid there's something wrong with the mate.” - </p> - <p> - “Where's he got to?” asked the captain sharply. - </p> - <p> - The man, who was obviously nervous, said: - </p> - <p> - “The last I saw of him was as he-fell down the port poop-ladder.” - </p> - <p> - “Fell down the poop-ladder! What did he do that for? What made him?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know, sir. He was walking the port side. Then just as he turned - towards me to come aft...” - </p> - <p> - “You saw him?” interrupted the captain. - </p> - <p> - “I did. I was looking at him. And I heard the crash, too—something - awful. Like the mainmast going overboard. It was as if something had - struck him.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns became very uneasy and alarmed. “Come,” he said sharply. - “Did anybody strike him? What did you see?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing, sir, so help me! There was nothing to see. He just gave a little - sort of hallo! threw his hands before him, and over he went—crash. I - couldn't hear anything more, so I just let go the wheel for a second to - call you up.” - </p> - <p> - “You're scared!” said Captain Johns. “I am, sir, straight!” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns stared at him. The silence of his ship driving on her way - seemed to contain a danger—a mystery. He was reluctant to go and - look for his mate himself, in the shadows of the main-deck, so quiet, so - still. - </p> - <p> - All he did was to advance to the break of the poop, and call for the - watch. As the sleepy men came trooping aft, he shouted to them fiercely: - </p> - <p> - “Look at the foot of the port poop-ladder, some of you! See the mate lying - there?” - </p> - <p> - Their startled exclamations told him immediately that they did see him. - Somebody even screeched out emotionally: “He's dead!” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bunter was laid in his bunk and when the lamp in his room was lit he - looked indeed as if he were dead, but it was obvious also that he was - breathing yet. The steward had been roused out, the second mate called and - sent on deck to look after the ship, and for an hour or so Captain Johns - devoted himself silently to the restoring of consciousness. Mr. Bunter at - last opened his eyes, but he could not speak. He was dazed and inert. The - steward bandaged a nasty scalp-wound while Captain Johns held an - additional light. They had to cut away a lot of Mr. Bunter's jet-black - hair to make a good dressing. This done, and after gazing for a while at - their patient, the two left the cabin. - </p> - <p> - “A rum go, this, steward,” said Captain Johns in the passage. - </p> - <p> - “Yessir.” - </p> - <p> - “A sober man that's right in his head does not fall down a poop-ladder - like a sack of potatoes. The ship's as steady as a church.” - </p> - <p> - “Yessir. Fit of some kind, I shouldn't wonder.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I should. He doesn't look as if he were subject to fits and - giddiness. Why, the man's in the prime of life. I wouldn't have another - kind of mate—not if I knew it. You don't think he has a private - store of liquor, do you, eh? He seemed to me a bit strange in his manner - several times lately. Off his feed, too, a bit, I noticed.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, if he ever had a bottle or two of grog in his cabin, that must - have gone a long time ago. I saw him throw some broken glass overboard - after the last gale we had; but that didn't amount to anything. Anyway, - sir, you couldn't call Mr. Bunter a drinking man.” - </p> - <p> - “No,” conceded the captain, reflectively. And the steward, locking the - pantry door, tried to escape out of the passage, thinking he could manage - to snatch another hour of sleep before it was time for him to turn out for - the day. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “There's some mystery there.” - </p> - <p> - “There's special Providence that he didn't crack his head like an eggshell - on the quarter-deck mooring-bits, sir. The men tell me he couldn't have - missed them by more than an inch.” - </p> - <p> - And the steward vanished skilfully. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns spent the rest of the night and the whole of the ensuing day - between his own room and that of the mate. - </p> - <p> - In his own room he sat with his open hands reposing on his knees, his lips - pursed up, and the horizontal furrows on his forehead marked very heavily. - Now and then raising his arm by a slow, as if cautious movement, he - scratched lightly the top of his bald head. In the mate's room he stood - for long periods of time with his hand to his lips, gazing at the - half-conscious man. - </p> - <p> - For three days Mr. Bunter did not say a single word. He looked at people - sensibly enough but did not seem to be able to hear any questions put to - him. They cut off some more of his hair and swathed his head in wet - cloths. He took some nourishment, and was made as comfortable as possible. - At dinner on the third day the second mate remarked to the captain, in - connection with the affair: - </p> - <p> - “These half-round brass plates on the steps of the poop-ladders are - beastly dangerous things!” - </p> - <p> - “Are they?” retorted Captain Johns, sourly. “It takes more than a brass - plate to account for an able-bodied man crashing down in this fashion like - a felled ox.” - </p> - <p> - The second mate was impressed by that view. There was something in that, - he thought. - </p> - <p> - “And the weather fine, everything dry, and the ship going along as steady - as a church!” pursued Captain Johns, gruffly. - </p> - <p> - As Captain Johns continued to look extremely sour, the second mate did not - open his lips any more during the dinner. Captain Johns was annoyed and - hurt by an innocent remark, because the fitting of the aforesaid brass - plates had been done at his suggestion only the voyage before, in order to - smarten up the appearance of the poop-ladders. - </p> - <p> - On the fourth day Mr. Bunter looked decidedly better; very languid yet, of - course, but he heard and understood what was said to him, and even could - say a few words in a feeble voice. - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns, coming in, contemplated him attentively, without much - visible sympathy. - </p> - <p> - “Well, can you give us your account of this accident, Mr. Bunter?” - </p> - <p> - Bunter moved slightly his bandaged head, and fixed his cold blue stare on - Captain Johns' face, as if taking stock and appraising the value of every - feature; the perplexed forehead, the credulous eyes, the inane droop of - the mouth. And he gazed so long that Captain Johns grew restive, and - looked over his shoulder at the door. - </p> - <p> - “No accident,” breathed out Bunter, in a peculiar tone. - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to say you've got the falling sickness,” said Captain - Johns. “How would you call it signing as chief mate of a clipper ship with - a thing like that on you?” - </p> - <p> - Bunter answered him only by a sinister look. The skipper shuffled his feet - a little. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what made you have that tumble, then?” - </p> - <p> - Bunter raised himself a little, and, looking straight into Captain Johns' - eyes said, in a very distinct whisper: - </p> - <p> - “You—were—right!” - </p> - <p> - He fell back and closed his eyes. Not a word more could Captain Johns get - out of him; and, the steward coming into the cabin, the skipper withdrew. - </p> - <p> - But that very night, unobserved, Captain Johns, opening the door - cautiously, entered again the mate's cabin. He could wait no longer. The - suppressed eagerness, the excitement expressed in all his mean, creeping - little person, did not escape the chief mate, who was lying awake, looking - frightfully pulled down and perfectly impassive. - </p> - <p> - “You are coming to gloat over me, I suppose,” said Bunter without moving, - and yet making a palpable hit. - </p> - <p> - “Bless my soul!” exclaimed Captain Johns with a start, and assuming a - sobered demeanour. “There's a thing to say!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, gloat, then! You and your ghosts, you've managed to get over a live - man.” - </p> - <p> - This was said by Bunter without stirring, in a low voice, and with not - much expression. - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean to say,” inquired Captain Johns, in awe-struck whisper, “that - you had a supernatural experience that night? You saw an apparition, then, - on board my ship?” - </p> - <p> - Reluctance, shame, disgust, would have been visible on poor Bunter's - countenance if the great part of it had not been swathed up in cotton-wool - and bandages. His ebony eyebrows, more sinister than ever amongst all that - lot of white linen, came together in a frown as he made a mighty effort to - say: - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I have seen.” - </p> - <p> - The wretchedness in his eyes would have awakened the compassion of any - other man than Captain Johns. But Captain Johns was all agog with - triumphant excitement. He was just a little bit frightened, too. He looked - at that unbelieving scoffer laid low, and did not even dimly guess at his - profound, humiliating distress. He was not generally capable of taking - much part in the anguish of his fellow-creatures. This time, moreover, he - was excessively anxious to know what had happened. Fixing his credulous - eyes on the bandaged head, he asked, trembling slightly: - </p> - <p> - “And did it—did it knock you down?” - </p> - <p> - “Come! am I the sort of man to be knocked down by a ghost?” protested - Bunter in a little stronger tone. “Don't you remember what you said - yourself the other night? Better men than me———Ha! - you'll have to look a long time before you find a better man for a mate of - your ship.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns pointed a solemn finger at Bunter's bedplace. - </p> - <p> - “You've been terrified,” he said. “That's what's the matter. You've been - terrified. Why, even the man at the wheel was scared, though he couldn't - see anything. He <i>felt</i> the supernatural. You are punished for your - incredulity, Mr. Bunter. You were terrified.” - </p> - <p> - “And suppose I was,” said Bunter. “Do you know what I had seen? Can you - conceive the sort of ghost that would haunt a man like me? Do you think it - was a ladyish, afternoon call, another-cup-of-tea-please apparition that - visits your Professor Cranks and that journalist chap you are always - talking about? No; I can't tell you what it was like. Every man has his - own ghosts. You couldn't conceive...” - </p> - <p> - Bunter stopped, out of breath; and Captain Johns remarked, with the glow - of inward satisfaction reflected in his tone: - </p> - <p> - “I've always thought you were the sort of man that was ready for anything; - from pitch-and-toss to wilful murder, as the saying goes. Well, well! So - you were terrified.” - </p> - <p> - “I stepped back,” said Bunter, curtly. “I don't remember anything else.” - </p> - <p> - “The man at the wheel told me you went backwards as if something had hit - you.” - </p> - <p> - “It was a sort of inward blow,” explained Bunter. “Something too deep for - you, Captain Johns, to understand. Your life and mine haven't been the - same. Aren't you satisfied to see me converted?” - </p> - <p> - “And you can't tell me any more?” asked Captain Johns, anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “No, I can't. I wouldn't. It would be no use if I did. That sort of - experience must be gone through. Say I am being punished. Well, I take my - punishment, but talk of it I won't.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said Captain Johns; “you won't. But, mind, I can draw my own - conclusions from that.” - </p> - <p> - “Draw what you like; but be careful what you say, sir. You don't terrify - me. <i>You</i> aren't a ghost.” - </p> - <p> - “One word. Has it any connection with what you said to me on that last - night, when we had a talk together on spiritualism?” - </p> - <p> - Bunter looked weary and puzzled. - </p> - <p> - “What did I say?” - </p> - <p> - “You told me that I couldn't know what a man like you was capable of.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes. Enough!” - </p> - <p> - “Very good. I am fixed, then,” remarked Captain Johns. “All I say is that - I am jolly glad not to be you, though I would have given almost anything - for the privilege of personal communication with the world of spirits. - Yes, sir, but not in that way.” - </p> - <p> - Poor Bunter moaned pitifully. - </p> - <p> - “It has made me feel twenty years older.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns retired quietly. He was delighted to observe this - overbearing ruffian humbled to the dust by the moralizing agency of the - spirits. The whole occurrence was a source of pride and gratification; and - he began to feel a sort of regard for his chief mate. - </p> - <p> - It is true that in further interviews Bunter showed himself very mild and - deferential. He seemed to cling to his captain for spiritual protection. - He used to send for him, and say, “I feel so nervous,” and Captain Johns - would stay patiently for hours in the hot little cabin, and feel proud of - the call. - </p> - <p> - For Mr. Bunter was ill, and could not leave his berth for a good many - days. He became a convinced spiritualist, not enthusiastically—that - could hardly have been expected from him—but in a grim, unshakable - way. He could not be called exactly friendly to the disembodied - inhabitants of our globe, as Captain Johns was. But he was now a firm, if - gloomy, recruit of spiritualism. - </p> - <p> - One afternoon, as the ship was already well to the north in the Gulf of - Bengal, the steward knocked at the door of the captain's cabin, and said, - without opening it: - </p> - <p> - “The mate asks if you could spare him a moment, sir. He seems to be in a - state in there.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Johns jumped up from the couch at once. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Tell him I am coming.” - </p> - <p> - He thought: Could it be possible there had been another spiritual - manifestation—in the daytime, too! - </p> - <p> - He revelled in the hope. It was not exactly that, however. Still, Bunter, - whom he saw sitting collapsed in a chair—he had been up for several - days, but not on deck as yet—poor Bunter had something startling - enough to communicate. His hands covered his face. His legs were stretched - straight out, dismally. - </p> - <p> - “What's the news now?” croaked Captain Johns, not unkindly, because in - truth it always pleased him to see Bunter—as he expressed it—tamed. - </p> - <p> - “News!” exclaimed the crushed sceptic through his hands. “Ay, news enough, - Captain Johns. Who will be able to deny the awfulness, the genuineness? - Another man would have dropped dead. You want to know what I had seen. All - I can tell you is that since I've seen it my hair is turning white.” - </p> - <p> - Bunter detached his hands from his face, and they hung on each side of his - chair as if dead. He looked broken in the dusky cabin. - </p> - <p> - “You don't say!” stammered out Captain Johns. “Turned white! Hold on a - bit! I'll light the lamp!” - </p> - <p> - When the lamp was lit, the startling phenomenon could be seen plainly - enough. As if the dread, the horror, the anguish of the supernatural were - being exhaled through the pores of his skin, a sort of silvery mist seemed - to cling to the cheeks and the head of the mate. His short beard, his - cropped hair, were growing, not black, but gray—almost white. - </p> - <p> - When Mr. Bunter, thin-faced and shaky, came on deck for duty, he was - clean-shaven, and his head was white. The hands were awe-struck. “Another - man,” they whispered to each other. It was generally and mysteriously - agreed that the mate had “seen something,” with the exception of the man - at the wheel at the time, who maintained that the mate was “struck by - something.” - </p> - <p> - This distinction hardly amounted to a difference. On the other hand, - everybody admitted that, after he picked up his strength a bit, he seemed - even smarter in his movements than before. - </p> - <p> - One day in Calcutta, Captain Johns, pointing out to a visitor his - white-headed chief mate standing by the main-hatch, was heard to say - oracularly: - </p> - <p> - “That man's in the prime of life.” - </p> - <p> - Of course, while Bunter was away, I called regularly on Mrs. Bunter every - Saturday, just to see whether she had any use for my services. It was - understood I would do that. She had just his half-pay to live on—it - amounted to about a pound a week. She had taken one room in a quiet little - square in the East End. - </p> - <p> - And this was affluence to what I had heard that the couple were reduced to - for a time after Bunter had to give up the Western Ocean trade—he - used to go as mate of all sorts of hard packets after he lost his ship and - his luck together—it was affluence to that time when Bunter would - start at seven o'clock in the morning with but a glass of hot water and a - crust of dry bread. It won't stand thinking about, especially for those - who know Mrs. Bunter. I had seen something of them, too, at that time; and - it just makes me shudder to remember what that born lady had to put up - with. Enough! - </p> - <p> - Dear Mrs. Bunter used to worry a good deal after the <i>Sapphire</i> left - for Calcutta. She would say to me: “It must be so awful for poor Winston”—Winston - is Bunter's name—and I tried to comfort her the best I could. - Afterwards, she got some small children to teach in a family, and was half - the day with them, and the occupation was good for her. - </p> - <p> - In the very first letter she had from Calcutta, Bunter told her he had had - a fall down the poop-ladder, and cut his head, but no bones broken, thank - God. That was all. Of course, she had other letters from him, but that - vagabond Bunter never gave me a scratch of the pen the solid eleven - months. I supposed, naturally, that everything was going on all right. Who - could imagine what was happening? - </p> - <p> - Then one day dear Mrs. Bunter got a letter from a legal firm in the City, - advising her that her uncle was dead—her old curmudgeon of an uncle—a - retired stockbroker, a heartless, petrified antiquity that had lasted on - and on. He was nearly ninety, I believe; and if I were to meet his - venerable ghost this minute, I would try to take him by the throat and - strangle him. - </p> - <p> - The old beast would never forgive his niece for marrying Bunter; and years - afterwards, when people made a point of letting him know that she was in - London, pretty nearly starving at forty years of age, he only said: “Serve - the little fool right!” I believe he meant her to starve. And, lo and - behold, the old cannibal died intestate, with no other relatives but that - very identical little fool. The Bunters were wealthy people now. - </p> - <p> - Of course, Mrs. Bunter wept as if her heart would break. In any other - woman it would have been mere hypocrisy. Naturally, too, she wanted to - cable the news to her Winston in Calcutta, but I showed her, <i>Gazette</i> - in hand, that the ship was on the homeward-bound list for more than a week - already. So we sat down to wait, and talked meantime of dear old Winston - every day. There were just one hundred such days before the <i>Sapphire</i> - got reported “All well” in the chops of the Channel by an incoming - mailboat. - </p> - <p> - “I am going to Dunkirk to meet him,” says she. The <i>Sapphire</i> had a - cargo of jute for Dunkirk. Of course, I had to escort the dear lady in the - quality of her “ingenious friend.” She calls me “our ingenious friend” to - this day; and I've observed some people—strangers—looking hard - at me, for the signs of the ingenuity, I suppose. - </p> - <p> - After settling Mrs. Bunter in a good hotel in Dunkirk, I walked down to - the docks—late afternoon it was—and what was my surprise to - see the ship actually fast alongside. Either Johns or Bunter, or both, - must have been driving her hard up Channel. Anyway, she had been in since - the day before last, and her crew was already paid off. I met two of her - apprenticed boys going off home on leave with their dunnage on a - Frenchman's barrow, as happy as larks, and I asked them if the mate was on - board. - </p> - <p> - “There he is, on the quay, looking at the moorings,” says one of the - youngsters as he skipped past me. - </p> - <p> - You may imagine the shock to my feelings when I beheld his white head. I - could only manage to tell him that his wife was at an hotel in town. He - left me at once, to go and get his hat on board. I was mightily surprised - by the smartness of his movements as he hurried up the gangway. - </p> - <p> - Whereas the black mate struck people as deliberate, and strangely stately - in his gait for a man in the prime of life, this white-headed chap seemed - the most wonderfully alert of old men. I don't suppose Bunter was any - quicker on his pins than before. It was the colour of the hair that made - all the difference in one's judgment. - </p> - <p> - The same with his eyes. Those eyes, that looked at you so steely, so - fierce, and so fascinating out of a bush of a buccaneer's black hair, now - had an innocent almost boyish expression in their good-humoured brightness - under those white eyebrows. - </p> - <p> - I led him without any delay into Mrs. Bunter's private sitting-room. After - she had dropped a tear over the late cannibal, given a hug to her Winston, - and told him that he must grow his moustache again, the dear lady tucked - her feet upon the sofa, and I got out of Bunter's way. - </p> - <p> - He started at once to pace the room, waving his long arms. He worked - himself into a regular frenzy, and tore Johns limb from limb many times - over that evening. - </p> - <p> - “Fell down? Of course I fell down, by slipping backwards on that fool's - patent brass plates. 'Pon my word, I had been walking that poop in charge - of the ship, and I didn't know whether I was in the Indian Ocean or in the - moon. I was crazy. My head spun round and round with sheer worry. I had - made my last application of your chemist's wonderful stuff.” (This to me.) - “All the store of bottles you gave me got smashed when those drawers fell - out in the last gale. I had been getting some dry things to change, when I - heard the cry: 'All hands on deck!' and made one jump of it, without even - pushing them in properly. Ass! When I came back and saw the broken glass - and the mess, I felt ready to faint. - </p> - <p> - “No; look here—deception is bad; but not to be able to keep it up - after one has been forced into it. You know that since I've been squeezed - out of the Western Ocean packets by younger men, just on account of my - grizzled muzzle—you know how much chance I had to ever get a ship. - And not a soul to turn to. We have been a lonely couple, we two—she - threw away everything for me—and to see her want a piece of dry - bread———” - </p> - <p> - He banged with his fist fit to split the Frenchman's table in two. - </p> - <p> - “I would have turned a sanguinary pirate for her, let alone cheating my - way into a berth by dyeing my hair. So when you came to me with your - chemist's wonderful stuff———” - </p> - <p> - He checked himself. - </p> - <p> - “By the way, that fellow's got a fortune when he likes to pick it up. It - is a wonderful stuff—you tell him salt water can do nothing to it. - It stays on as long as your hair will.” - </p> - <p> - “All right,” I said. “Go on.” - </p> - <p> - Thereupon he went for Johns again with a fury that frightened his wife, - and made me laugh till I cried. - </p> - <p> - “Just you try to think what it would have meant to be at the mercy of the - meanest creature that ever commanded a ship! Just fancy what a life that - crawling Johns would have led me! And I knew that in a week or so the - white hair would begin to show. And the crew. Did you ever think of that? - To be shown up as a low fraud before all hands. What a life for me till we - got to Calcutta! And once there—kicked out, of course. Half-pay - stopped. Annie here alone without a penny—starving; and I on the - other side of the earth, ditto. You see? - </p> - <p> - “I thought of shaving twice a day. But could I shave my head, too? No way—no - way at all. Unless I dropped Johns overboard; and even then——— - </p> - <p> - “Do you wonder now that with all these things boiling in my head I didn't - know where I was putting down my foot that night? I just felt myself - falling—then crash, and all dark. - </p> - <p> - “When I came to myself that bang on the head seemed to have steadied my - wits somehow. I was so sick of everything that for two days I wouldn't - speak to anyone. They thought it was a slight concussion of the brain. - Then the idea dawned upon me as I was looking at that ghost-ridden, - wretched fool. 'Ah, you love ghosts,' I thought. 'Well, you shall have - something from beyond the grave.' - </p> - <p> - “I didn't even trouble to invent a story. I couldn't imagine a ghost if I - wanted to. I wasn't fit to lie connectedly if I had tried. I just bulled - him on to it. Do you know, he got, quite by himself, a notion that at some - time or other I had done somebody to death in some way, and that———” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, the horrible man!” cried Mrs. Bunter from the sofa. There was a - silence. - </p> - <p> - “And didn't he bore my head off on the home passage!” began Bunter again - in a weary voice. “He loved me. He was proud of me. I was converted. I had - had a manifestation. Do you know what he was after? He wanted me and him - 'to make a <i>seance</i>,' in his own words, and to try to call up that - ghost (the one that had turned my hair white—the ghost of my - supposed victim), and, as he said, talk it over with him—the ghost—in - a friendly way. - </p> - <p> - “'Or else, Bunter,' he says, 'you may get another manifestation when you - least expect it, and tumble overboard perhaps, or something. You ain't - really safe till we pacify the spirit-world in some way.' - </p> - <p> - “Can you conceive a lunatic like that? No—say?” - </p> - <p> - I said nothing. But Mrs. Bunter did, in a very decided tone. - </p> - <p> - “Winston, I don't want you to go on board that ship again any more.” - </p> - <p> - “My dear,” says he, “I have all my things on board yet.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't want the things. Don't go near that ship at all.” - </p> - <p> - He stood still; then, dropping his eyes with a faint smile, said slowly, - in a dreamy voice: - </p> - <p> - “The haunted ship.” - </p> - <p> - “And your last,” I added. - </p> - <p> - We carried him off, as he stood, by the night train. He was very quiet; - but crossing the Channel, as we two had a smoke on deck, he turned to me - suddenly, and, grinding his teeth, whispered: - </p> - <p> - “He'll never know how near he was being dropped overboard!” - </p> - <p> - He meant Captain Johns. I said nothing. - </p> - <p> - But Captain Johns, I understand, made a great to-do about the - disappearance of his chief mate. He set the French police scouring the - country for the body. In the end, I fancy he got word from his owners' - office to drop all this fuss—that it was all right. I don't suppose - he ever understood anything of that mysterious occurrence. - </p> - <p> - To this day he tries at times (he's retired now, and his conversation is - not very coherent)—he tries to tell the story of a black mate he - once had, “a murderous, gentlemanly ruffian, with raven-black hair which - turned white all at once in consequence of a manifestation from beyond the - grave.” An avenging apparition. What with reference to black and white - hair, to poop-ladders, and to his own feelings and views, it is difficult - to make head or tail of it. If his sister (she's very vigorous still) - should be present she cuts all this short—peremptorily: - </p> - <p> - “Don't you mind what he says. He's got devils on the brain.” - </p> - <p> - THE END - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - -***** This file should be named 17732-h.htm or 17732-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/3/17732/ - -Produced by David Widger - -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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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - </body> -</html> diff --git a/old/17732.txt b/old/17732.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6d704b1..0000000 --- a/old/17732.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4047 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -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: Tales Of Hearsay - -Author: Joseph Conrad - -Release Date: February 9, 2006 [EBook #17732] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger - - - - - -TALES OF HEARSAY - -BY JOSEPH CONRAD - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1911, 1917, 1918, BY THE METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE CO. GARDEN -CITY, N. Y. - - - - -CONTENTS - -The Warrior's Soul - -Prince Roman - -The Tale - -The Black Mate - - - - - -THE WARRIOR'S SOUL (1917) - - -The old officer with long white moustaches gave rein to his indignation. - -"Is it possible that you youngsters should have no more sense than that! -Some of you had better wipe the milk off your upper lip before you start -to pass judgment on the few poor stragglers of a generation which has -done and suffered not a little in its time." - -His hearers having expressed much compunction the ancient warrior became -appeased. But he was not silenced. - -"I am one of them--one of the stragglers, I mean," he went on -patiently. "And what did we do? What have we achieved? He--the great -Napoleon--started upon us to emulate the Macedonian Alexander, with -a ruck of nations at his back. We opposed empty spaces to French -impetuosity, then we offered them an interminable battle so that their -army went at last to sleep in its positions lying down on the heaps of -its own dead. Then came the wall of fire in Moscow. It toppled down on -them. - -"Then began the long rout of the Grand Army. I have seen it stream on, -like the doomed flight of haggard, spectral sinners across the innermost -frozen circle of Dante's Inferno, ever widening before their despairing -eyes. - -"They who escaped must have had their souls doubly riveted inside their -bodies to carry them out of Russia through that frost fit to split -rocks. But to say that it was our fault that a single one of them got -away is mere ignorance. Why! Our own men suffered nearly to the limit of -their strength. Their Russian strength! - -"Of course our spirit was not broken; and then our cause was good--it -was holy. But that did not temper the wind much to men and horses. - -"The flesh is weak. Good or evil purpose, Humanity has to pay the price. -Why! In that very fight for that little village of which I have been -telling you we were fighting for the shelter of those old houses as much -as victory. And with the French it was the same. - -"It wasn't for the sake of glory, or for the sake of strategy. The -French knew that they would have to retreat before morning and we knew -perfectly well that they would go. As far as the war was concerned there -was nothing to fight about. Yet our infantry and theirs fought like wild -cats, or like heroes if you like that better, amongst the houses--hot -work enough---while the supports out in the open stood freezing in -a tempestuous north wind which drove the snow on earth and the great -masses of clouds in the sky at a terrific pace. The very air was -inexpressibly sombre by contrast with the white earth. I have never seen -God's creation look more sinister than on that day. - -"We, the cavalry (we were only a handful), had not much to do except -turn our backs to the wind and receive some stray French round shot. -This, I may tell you, was the last of the French guns and it was the -last time they had their artillery in position. Those guns never went -away from there either. We found them abandoned next morning. But that -afternoon they were keeping up an infernal fire on our attacking column; -the furious wind carried away the smoke and even the noise but we could -see the constant flicker of the tongues of fire along the French front. -Then a driving flurry of snow would hide everything except the dark red -flashes in the white swirl. - -"At intervals when the line cleared we could see away across the plain -to the right a sombre column moving endlessly; the great rout of the -Grand Army creeping on and on all the time while the fight on our left -went on with a great din and fury. The cruel whirlwind of snow swept -over that scene of death and desolation. And then the wind fell as -suddenly as it had arisen in the morning. - -"Presently we got orders to charge the retreating column; I don't know -why unless they wanted to prevent us from getting frozen in our saddles -by giving us something to do. We changed front half right and got into -motion at a walk to take that distant dark line in flank. It might have -been half-past two in the afternoon. - -"You must know that so far in this campaign my regiment had never been -on the main line of Napoleon's advance. All these months since the -invasion the army we belonged to had been wrestling with Oudinot in -the north. We had only come down lately, driving him before us to the -Beresina. - -"This was the first occasion, then, that I and my comrades had a close -view of Napoleon's Grand Army. It was an amazing and terrible sight. I -had heard of it from others; I had seen the stragglers from it: small -bands of marauders, parties of prisoners in the distance. But this was -the very column itself! A crawling, stumbling, starved, half-demented -mob. It issued from the forest a mile away and its head was lost in the -murk of the fields. We rode into it at a trot, which was the most we -could get out of our horses, and we stuck in that human mass as if in a -moving bog. There was no resistance. I heard a few shots, half a dozen -perhaps. Their very senses seemed frozen within them. I had time for a -good look while riding at the head of my squadron. Well, I assure you, -there were men walking on the outer edge so lost to everything but -their misery that they never turned their heads to look at our charge. -Soldiers! - -"My horse pushed over one of them with his chest. The poor wretch had a -dragoon's blue cloak, all torn and scorched, hanging from his shoulders -and he didn't even put his hand out to snatch at my bridle and save -himself. He just went down. Our troopers were pointing and slashing; -well, and of course at first I myself... What would you have! An enemy's -an enemy. Yet a sort of sickening awe crept into my heart. There was no -tumult--only a low deep murmur dwelt over them interspersed with louder -cries and groans while that mob kept on pushing and surging past us, -sightless and without feeling. A smell of scorched rags and festering -wounds hung in the air. My horse staggered in the eddies of swaying -men. But it was like cutting down galvanized corpses that didn't care. -Invaders! Yes... God was already dealing with them. - -"I touched my horse with the spurs to get clear. There was a sudden rush -and a sort of angry moan when our second squadron got into them on our -right. My horse plunged and somebody got hold of my leg. As I had no -mind to get pulled out of the saddle I gave a back-handed slash without -looking. I heard a cry and my leg was let go suddenly. - -"Just then I caught sight of the subaltern of my troop at some little -distance from me. His name was Tomassov. That multitude of resurrected -bodies with glassy eyes was seething round his horse as if blind, -growling crazily. He was sitting erect in his saddle, not looking down -at them and sheathing his sword deliberately. - -"This Tomassov, well, he had a beard. Of course we all had beards then. -Circumstances, lack of leisure, want of razors, too. No, seriously, we -were a wild-looking lot in those unforgotten days which so many, so very -many of us did not survive. You know our losses were awful, too. Yes, we -looked wild. _Des Russes sauvages_--what! - -"So he had a beard--this Tomassov I mean; but he did not look _sauvage_. -He was the youngest of us all. And that meant real youth. At a distance -he passed muster fairly well, what with the grime and the particular -stamp of that campaign on our faces. But directly you were near enough -to have a good look into his eyes, that was where his lack of age -showed, though he was not exactly a boy. - -"Those same eyes were blue, something like the blue of autumn skies, -dreamy and gay, too--innocent, believing eyes. A topknot of fair hair -decorated his brow like a gold diadem in what one would call normal -times. - -"You may think I am talking of him as if he were the hero of a novel. -Why, that's nothing to what the adjutant discovered about him. He -discovered that he had a 'lover's lips'--whatever that may be. If the -adjutant meant a nice mouth, why, it was nice enough, but of course it -was intended for a sneer. That adjutant of ours was not a very delicate -fellow. 'Look at those lover's lips,' he would exclaim in a loud tone -while Tomassov was talking. - -"Tomassov didn't quite like that sort of thing. But to a certain extent -he had laid himself open to banter by the lasting character of his -impressions which were connected with the passion of love and, perhaps, -were not of such a rare kind as he seemed to think them. What made -his comrades tolerant of his rhapsodies was the fact that they were -connected with France, with Paris! - -"You of the present generation, you cannot conceive how much prestige -there was then in those names for the whole world. Paris was the centre -of wonder for all human beings gifted with imagination. There we were, -the majority of us young and well connected, but not long out of our -hereditary nests in the provinces; simple servants of God; mere rustics, -if I may say so. So we were only too ready to listen to the tales of -France from our comrade Tomassov. He had been attached to our mission -in Paris the year before the war. High protections very likely--or maybe -sheer luck. - -"I don't think he could have been a very useful member of the mission -because of his youth and complete inexperience. And apparently all his -time in Paris was his own. The use he made of it was to fall in love, to -remain in that state, to cultivate it, to exist only for it in a manner -of speaking. - -"Thus it was something more than a mere memory that he had brought with -him from France. Memory is a fugitive thing. It can be falsified, it -can be effaced, it can be even doubted. Why! I myself come to doubt -sometimes that I, too, have been in Paris in my turn. And the long road -there with battles for its stages would appear still more incredible if -it were not for a certain musket ball which I have been carrying about -my person ever since a little cavalry affair which happened in Silesia -at the very beginning of the Leipsic campaign. - -"Passages of love, however, are more impressive perhaps than passages -of danger. You don't go affronting love in troops as it were. They are -rarer, more personal and more intimate. And remember that with Tomassov -all that was very fresh yet. He had not been home from France three -months when the war began. - -"His heart, his mind were full of that experience. He was really awed -by it, and he was simple enough to let it appear in his speeches. He -considered himself a sort of privileged person, not because a woman had -looked at him with favour, but simply because, how shall I say it, he -had had the wonderful illumination of his worship for her, as if it were -heaven itself that had done this for him. - -"Oh yes, he was very simple. A nice youngster, yet no fool; and with -that, utterly inexperienced, unsuspicious, and unthinking. You will find -one like that here and there in the provinces. He had some poetry in him -too. It could only be natural, something quite his own, not acquired. I -suppose Father Adam had some poetry in him of that natural sort. For the -rest _un Russe sauvage_ as the French sometimes call us, but not of that -kind which, they maintain, eats tallow candle for a delicacy. As to the -woman, the French woman, well, though I have also been in France with -a hundred thousand Russians, I have never seen her. Very likely she was -not in Paris then. And in any case hers were not the doors that would -fly open before simple fellows of my sort, you understand. Gilded salons -were never in my way. I could not tell you how she looked, which is -strange considering that I was, if I may say so, Tomassov's special -confidant. - -"He very soon got shy of talking before the others. I suppose the usual -camp-fire comments jarred his fine feelings. But I was left to him -and truly I had to submit. You can't very well expect a youngster in -Tomassov's state to hold his tongue altogether; and I--I suppose you -will hardly believe me--I am by nature a rather silent sort of person. - -"Very likely my silence appeared to him sympathetic. All the month of -September our regiment, quartered in villages, had come in for an easy -time. It was then that I heard most of that--you can't call it a story. -The story I have in my mind is not in that. Outpourings, let us call -them. - -"I would sit quite content to hold my peace, a whole hour perhaps, while -Tomassov talked with exaltation. And when he was done I would still hold -my peace. And then there would be produced a solemn effect of silence -which, I imagine, pleased Tomassov in a way. - -"She was of course not a woman in her first youth. A widow, maybe. At -any rate I never heard Tomassov mention her husband. She had a salon, -something very distinguished; a social centre in which she queened it -with great splendour. - -"Somehow, I fancy her court was composed mostly of men. But Tomassov, I -must say, kept such details out of his discourses wonderfully well. Upon -my word I don't know whether her hair was dark or fair, her eyes brown -or blue; what was her stature, her features, or her complexion. His love -soared above mere physical impressions. He never described her to me in -set terms; but he was ready to swear that in her presence everybody's -thoughts and feelings were bound to circle round her. She was that sort -of woman. Most wonderful conversations on all sorts of subjects went -on in her salon: but through them all there flowed unheard like a -mysterious strain of music the assertion, the power, the tyranny of -sheer beauty. So apparently the woman was beautiful. She detached all -these talking people from their life interests, and even from their -vanities. She was a secret delight and a secret trouble. All the men -when they looked at her fell to brooding as if struck by the thought -that their lives had been wasted. She was the very joy and shudder of -felicity and she brought only sadness and torment to the hearts of men. - -"In short, she must have been an extraordinary woman, or else Tomassov -was an extraordinary young fellow to feel in that way and to talk like -this about her. I told you the fellow had a lot of poetry in him and -observed that all this sounded true enough. It would be just about the -sorcery a woman very much out of the common would exercise, you know. -Poets do get close to truth somehow--there is no denying that. - -"There is no poetry in my composition, I know, but I have my share of -common shrewdness, and I have no doubt that the lady was kind to the -youngster, once he did find his way inside her salon. His getting in -is the real marvel. However, he did get in, the innocent, and he found -himself in distinguished company there, amongst men of considerable -position. And you know, what that means: thick waists, bald heads, teeth -that are not--as some satirist puts it. Imagine amongst them a nice -boy, fresh and simple, like an apple just off the tree; a modest, -good-looking, impressionable, adoring young barbarian. My word! What a -change! What a relief for jaded feelings! And with that, having, in his -nature that, dose; of poetry which saves even a simpleton from being a -fool. - -"He became an artlessly, unconditionally devoted slave. He was rewarded -by being smiled on and in time admitted to the intimacy of the house. -It may be that the unsophisticated young barbarian amused the exquisite -lady. Perhaps--since he didn't feed on tallow candles--he satisfied -some need of tenderness in the woman. You know, there are many kinds of -tenderness highly civilized women are capable of. Women with heads and -imagination, I mean, and no temperament to speak of, you understand. But -who is going to fathom their needs or their fancies? Most of the time -they themselves don't know much about their innermost moods, and blunder -out of one into another, sometimes with catastrophic results. And then -who is more surprised than they? However, Tomassov's case was in its -nature quite idyllic. The fashionable world was amused. His devotion -made for him a kind of social success. But he didn't care. There was his -one divinity, and there was the shrine where he was permitted to go in -and out without regard for official reception hours. - -"He took advantage of that privilege freely. Well, he had no official -duties, you know. The Military Mission was supposed to be more -complimentary than anything else, the head of it being a personal -friend of our Emperor Alexander; and he, too, was laying himself out for -successes in fashionable life exclusively--as it seemed. As it seemed. - -"One afternoon Tomassov called on the mistress of his thoughts earlier -than usual. She was not alone. There was a man with her, not one of the -thick-waisted, bald-headed personages, but a somebody all the same, -a man over thirty, a French officer who to some extent was also a -privileged intimate. Tomassov was not jealous of him. Such a sentiment -would have appeared presumptuous to the simple fellow. - -"On the contrary he admired that officer. You have no idea of the French -military men's prestige in those days, even with us Russian soldiers -who had managed to face them perhaps better than the rest. Victory had -marked them on the forehead--it seemed for ever. They would have been -more than human if they had not been conscious of it; but they were good -comrades and had a sort of brotherly feeling for all who bore arms, even -if it was against them. - -"And this was quite a superior example, an officer of the -major-general's staff, and a man of the best society besides. He was -powerfully built, and thoroughly masculine, though he was as carefully -groomed as a woman. He had the courteous self-possession of a man of the -world. His forehead, white as alabaster, contrasted impressively with -the healthy colour of his face. - -"I don't know whether he was jealous of Tomassov, but I suspect that -he might have been a little annoyed at him as at a sort of walking -absurdity of the sentimental order. But these men of the world are -impenetrable, and outwardly he condescended to recognize Tomassov's -existence even more distinctly than was strictly necessary. Once or -twice he had offered him some useful worldly advice with perfect tact -and delicacy. Tomassov was completely conquered by that evidence of -kindness under the cold polish of the best society. - -"Tomassov, introduced into the _petit salon_, found these two exquisite -people sitting on a sofa together and had the feeling of having -interrupted some special conversation. They looked at him strangely, he -thought; but he was not given to understand that he had intruded. After -a time the lady said to the officer--his name was De Castel--'I wish you -would take the trouble to ascertain the exact truth as to that rumour.' - -"'It's much more than a mere rumour,' remarked the officer. But he got -up submissively and went out. The lady turned to Tomassov and said: 'You -may stay with me.' - -"This express command made him supremely happy, though as a matter of -fact he had had no idea of going. - -"She regarded him with her kindly glances, which made something glow and -expand within his chest. It was a delicious feeling, even though it did -cut one's breath short now and then. Ecstatically he drank in the sound -of her tranquil, seductive talk full of innocent gaiety and of spiritual -quietude. His passion appeared to him to flame up and envelop her in -blue fiery tongues from head to foot and over her head, while her soul -reposed in the centre like a big white rose.... - -"H'm, good this. He told me many other things like that. But this is the -one I remember. He himself remembered everything because these were the -last memories of that woman. He was seeing her for the last time though -he did not know it then. - -"M. De Castel returned, breaking into that atmosphere of enchantment -Tomassov had been drinking in even to complete unconsciousness of the -external world. Tomassov could not help being struck by the distinction -of his movements, the ease of his manner, his superiority to all the -other men he knew, and he suffered from it. It occurred to him that -these two brilliant beings on the sofa were made for each other. - -"De Castel sitting down by the side of the lady murmured to her -discreetly, 'There is not the slightest doubt that it's true,' and -they both turned their eyes to Tomassov. Roused thoroughly from his -enchantment he became self-conscious; a feeling of shyness came over -him. He sat smiling faintly at them. - -"The lady without taking her eyes off the blushing Tomassov said with a -dreamy gravity quite unusual to her: - -"'I should like to know that your generosity can be supreme--without a -flaw. Love at its highest should be the origin of every perfection.' - -"Tomassov opened his eyes wide with admiration at this, as though her -lips had been dropping real pearls. The sentiment, however, was -not uttered for the primitive Russian youth but for the exquisitely -accomplished man of the world, De Castel. - -"Tomassov could not see the effect it produced because the French -officer lowered his head and sat there contemplating his admirably -polished boots. The lady whispered in a sympathetic tone: - -"'You have scruples?' - -"De Castel, without looking up, murmured: 'It could be turned into a -nice point of honour.' - -"She said vivaciously: 'That surely is artificial. I am all for natural -feelings. I believe in nothing else. But perhaps your conscience...' - -"He interrupted her: 'Not at all. My conscience is not childish. The -fate of those people is of no military importance to us. What can it -matter? The fortune of France is invincible.' - -"'Well then...' she uttered, meaningly, and rose from the couch. The -French officer stood up, too. Tomassov hastened to follow their example. -He was pained by his state of utter mental darkness. While he was -raising the lady's white hand to his lips he heard the French officer -say with marked emphasis: - -"'If he has the soul of a warrior (at that time, you know, people really -talked in that way), if he has the soul of a warrior he ought to fall at -your feet in gratitude.' - -"Tomassov felt himself plunged into even denser darkness than before. He -followed the French officer out of the room and out of the house; for he -had a notion that this was expected of him. - -"It was getting dusk, the weather was very bad, and the street was quite -deserted. The Frenchman lingered in it strangely. And Tomassov lingered, -too, without impatience. He was never in a hurry to get away from the -house in which she lived. And besides, something wonderful had happened -to him. The hand he had reverently raised by the tips of its fingers had -been pressed against his lips. He had received a secret favour! He was -almost frightened. The world had reeled--and it had hardly steadied -itself yet. De Castel stopped short at the corner of the quiet street. - -"'I don't care to be seen too much with you in the lighted -thoroughfares, M. Tomassov,' he said in a strangely grim tone. - -"'Why?' asked the young man, too startled to be offended. - -"'From prudence,' answered the other curtly. 'So we will have to part -here; but before we part I'll disclose to you something of which you -will see at once the importance.' - -"This, please note, was an evening in late March of the year 1812. For -a long time already there had been talk of a growing coolness between -Russia and France. The word war was being whispered in drawing rooms -louder and louder, and at last was heard in official circles. Thereupon -the Parisian police discovered that our military envoy had corrupted -some clerks at the Ministry of War and had obtained from them some very -important confidential documents. The wretched men (there were two -of them) had confessed their crime and were to be shot that night. -To-morrow all the town would be talking of the affair. But the worst was -that the Emperor Napoleon was furiously angry at the discovery, and had -made up his mind to have the Russian envoy arrested. - -"Such was De Castel's disclosure; and though he had spoken in low tones -Tomassov was stunned as by a great crash. - -"'Arrested,' he murmured, desolately. - -"'Yes, and kept as a state prisoner--with everybody belonging to -him....' - -"The French officer seized Tomassov's arm above the elbow and pressed it -hard. - -"'And kept in France,' he repeated into Tomassov's very ear, and then -letting him go stepped back a space and remained silent. - -"'And it's you, you, who are telling me this!' cried Tomassov in an -extremity of gratitude that was hardly greater than his admiration for -the generosity of his future foe. Could a brother have done for him -more! He sought to seize the hand of the French officer, but the latter -remained wrapped up closely in his cloak. Possibly in the dark he had -not noticed the attempt. He moved back a bit and in his self-possessed -voice of a man of the world, as though he were speaking across a card -table or something of the sort, he called Tomassov's attention to -the fact that if he meant to make use of the warning the moments were -precious. - -"'Indeed they are,' agreed the awed Tomassov. 'Good-bye then. I have -no word of thanks to equal your generosity; but if ever I have an -opportunity, I swear it, you may command my life....' - -"But the Frenchman retreated, had already vanished in the dark lonely -street. Tomassov was alone, and then he did not waste any of the -precious minutes of that night. - -"See how people's mere gossip and idle talk pass into history. In all -the memoirs of the time if you read them you will find it stated that -our envoy had a warning from some highly placed woman who was in love -with him. Of course it's known that he had successes with women, and in -the highest spheres, too, but the truth is that the person who warned -him was no other than our simple Tomassov--an altogether different sort -of lover from himself. - -"This then is the secret of our Emperor's representative's escape -from arrest. He and all his official household got out of France all -right--as history records. - -"And amongst that household there was our Tomassov of course. He had, -in the words of the French officer, the soul of a warrior. And what more -desolate prospect for a man with such a soul than to be imprisoned -on the eve of war; to be cut off from his country in danger, from his -military family, from his duty, from honour, and--well--from glory, too. - -"Tomassov used to shudder at the mere thought of the moral torture he -had escaped; and he nursed in his heart a boundless gratitude to the two -people who had saved him from that cruel ordeal. They were wonderful! -For him love and friendship were but two aspects of exalted perfection. -He had found these fine examples of it and he vowed them indeed a sort -of cult. It affected his attitude towards Frenchmen in general, great -patriot as he was. He was naturally indignant at the invasion of his -country, but this indignation had no personal animosity in it. His was -fundamentally a fine nature. He grieved at the appalling amount of human -suffering he saw around him. Yes, he was full of compassion for all -forms of mankind's misery in a manly way. - -"Less fine natures than his own did not understand this very well. In -the regiment they had nicknamed him the Humane Tomassov. - -"He didn't take offence at it. There is nothing incompatible between -humanity and a warrior's soul. People without compassion are the -civilians, government officials, merchants and such like. As to the -ferocious talk one hears from a lot of decent people in war time--well, -the tongue is an unruly member at best and when there is some excitement -going on there is no curbing its furious activity. - -"So I had not been very surprised to see our Tomassov sheathe -deliberately his sword right in the middle of that charge, you may say. -As we rode away after it he was very silent. He was not a chatterer as -a rule, but it was evident that this close view of the Grand Army had -affected him deeply, like some sight not of this earth. I had always -been a pretty tough individual myself--well, even I... and there was -that fellow with a lot of poetry in his nature! You may imagine what he -made of it to himself. We rode side by side without opening our lips. It -was simply beyond words. - -"We established our bivouac along the edge of the forest so as to get -some shelter for our horses. However, the boisterous north wind had -dropped as quickly as it had sprung up, and the great winter stillness -lay on the land from the Baltic to the Black Sea. One could almost feel -its cold, lifeless immensity reaching up to the stars. - -"Our men had lighted several fires for their officers and had cleared -the snow around them. We had big logs of wood for seats; it was a -very tolerable bivouac upon the whole, even without the exultation of -victory. We were to feel that later, but at present we were oppressed by -our stern and arduous task. - -"There were three of us round my fire. The third one was that adjutant. -He was perhaps a well-meaning chap but not so nice as he might have been -had he been less rough in manner and less crude in his perceptions. He -would reason about people's conduct as though a man were as simple a -figure as, say, two sticks laid across each other; whereas a man is much -more like the sea whose movements are too complicated to explain, and -whose depths may bring up God only knows what at any moment. - -"We talked a little about that charge. Not much. That sort of thing does -not lend itself to conversation. Tomassov muttered a few words about a -mere butchery. I had nothing to say. As I told you I had very soon let -my sword hang idle at my wrist. That starving mob had not even _tried_ -to defend itself. Just a few shots. We had two men wounded. Two!... and -we had charged the main column of Napoleon's Grand Army. - -"Tomassov muttered wearily: 'What was the good of it?' I did not wish -to argue, so I only just mumbled: 'Ah, well!' But the adjutant struck in -unpleasantly: - -"'Why, it warmed the men a bit. It has made me warm. That's a good -enough reason. But our Tomassov is so humane! And besides he has been in -love with a French woman, and thick as thieves with a lot of Frenchmen, -so he is sorry for them. Never mind, my boy, we are on the Paris road -now and you shall soon see her!' This was one of his usual, as we -believed them, foolish speeches. None of us but believed that the -getting to Paris would be a matter of years--of years. And lo! less than -eighteen months afterwards I was rooked of a lot of money in a gambling -hell in the Palais Royal. - -"Truth, being often the most senseless thing in the world, is sometimes -revealed to fools. I don't think that adjutant of ours believed in his -own words. He just wanted to tease Tomassov from habit. Purely from -habit. We of course said nothing, and so he took his head in his hands -and fell into a doze as he sat on a log in front of the fire. - -"Our cavalry was on the extreme right wing of the army, and I must -confess that we guarded it very badly. We had lost all sense of -insecurity by this time; but still we did keep up a pretence of doing -it in a way. Presently a trooper rode up leading a horse and Tomassov -mounted stiffly and went off on a round of the outposts. Of the -perfectly useless outposts. - -"The night was still, except for the crackling of the fires. The raging -wind had lifted far above the earth and not the faintest breath of it -could be heard. Only the full moon swam out with a rush into the sky and -suddenly hung high and motionless overhead. I remember raising my hairy -face to it for a moment. Then, I verily believe, I dozed off, too, bent -double on my log with my head towards the fierce blaze. - -"You know what an impermanent thing such slumber is. One moment you -drop into an abyss and the next you are back in the world that you would -think too deep for any noise but the trumpet of the Last Judgment. -And then off you go again. Your very soul seems to slip down into a -bottomless black pit. Then up once more into a startled consciousness. A -mere plaything of cruel sleep one is, then. Tormented both ways. - -"However, when my orderly appeared before me, repeating: 'Won't your -Honour be pleased to eat?... Won't your Honour be pleased to eat?...' I -managed to keep my hold of it--I mean that gaping consciousness. He was -offering me a sooty pot containing some grain boiled in water with a -pinch of salt. A wooden spoon was stuck in it. - -"At that time these were the only rations we were getting regularly. -Mere chicken food, confound it! But the Russian soldier is wonderful. -Well, my fellow waited till I had feasted and then went away carrying -off the empty pot. - -"I was no longer sleepy. Indeed, I had become awake with an exaggerated -mental consciousness of existence extending beyond my immediate -surroundings. Those are but exceptional moments with mankind, I am glad -to say. I had the intimate sensation of the earth in all its enormous -expanse wrapped in snow, with nothing showing on it but trees with their -straight stalk-like trunks and their funeral verdure; and in this aspect -of general mourning I seemed to hear the sighs of mankind falling to die -in the midst of a nature without life. They were Frenchmen. We didn't -hate them; they did not hate us; we had existed far apart--and suddenly -they had come rolling in with arms in their hands, without fear of God, -carrying with them other nations, and all to perish together in a long, -long trail of frozen corpses. I had an actual vision of that trail: -a pathetic multitude of small dark mounds stretching away under the -moonlight in a clear, still, and pitiless atmosphere--a sort of horrible -peace. - -"But what other peace could there be for them? What else did they -deserve? I don't know by what connection of emotions there came into my -head the thought that the earth was a pagan planet and not a fit abode -for Christian virtues. - -"You may be surprised that I should remember all this so well. What is -a passing emotion or half-formed thought to last in so many years of a -man's changing, inconsequential life? But what has fixed the emotion -of that evening in my recollection so that the slightest shadows remain -indelible was an event of strange finality, an event not likely to be -forgotten in a life-time--as you shall see. - -"I don't suppose I had been entertaining those thoughts more than five -minutes when something induced me to look over my shoulder. I can't -think it was a noise; the snow deadened all the sounds. Something it -must have been, some sort of signal reaching my consciousness. Anyway, I -turned my head, and there was the event approaching me, not that I knew -it or had the slightest premonition. All I saw in the distance were two -figures approaching in the moonlight. One of them was our Tomassov. The -dark mass behind him which moved across my sight were the horses which -his orderly was leading away. Tomassov was a very familiar appearance, -in long boots, a tall figure ending in a pointed hood. But by his side -advanced another figure. I mistrusted my eyes at first. It was amazing! -It had a shining crested helmet on its head and was muffled up in a -white cloak. The cloak was not as white as snow. Nothing in the world -is. It was white more like mist, with an aspect that was ghostly and -martial to an extraordinary degree. It was as if Tomassov had got hold -of the God of War himself. I could see at once that he was leading this -resplendent vision by the arm. Then I saw that he was holding it -up. While I stared and stared, they crept on--for indeed they were -creeping--and at last they crept into the light of our bivouac fire and -passed beyond the log I was sitting on. The blaze played on the helmet. -It was extremely battered and the frost-bitten face, full of sores, -under it was framed in bits of mangy fur. No God of War this, but a -French officer. The great white cuirassier's cloak was torn, burnt full -of holes. His feet were wrapped up in old sheepskins over remnants -of boots. They looked monstrous and he tottered on them, sustained by -Tomassov who lowered him most carefully on to the log on which I sat. - -"My amazement knew no bounds. - -"'You have brought in a prisoner,' I said to Tomassov, as if I could not -believe my eyes. - -"You must understand that unless they surrendered in large bodies we -made no prisoners. What would have been the good? Our Cossacks either -killed the stragglers or else let them alone, just as it happened. It -came really to the same thing in the end. - -"Tomassov turned to me with a very troubled look. - -"'He sprang up from the ground somewhere as I was leaving the outpost,' -he said. 'I believe he was making for it, for he walked blindly into my -horse. He got hold of my leg and of course none of our chaps dared touch -him then.' - -"'He had a narrow escape,' I said. - -"'He didn't appreciate it,' said Tomassov, looking even more troubled -than before. 'He came along holding to my stirrup leather. That's what -made me so late. He told me he was a staff officer; and then talking in -a voice such, I suppose, as the damned alone use, a croaking of rage -and pain, he said he had a favour to beg of me. A supreme favour. Did I -understand him, he asked in a sort of fiendish whisper. - -"'Of course I told him that I did. I said: _oui, je vous comprends_.' - -"'Then,' said he, 'do it. Now! At once--in the pity of your heart.' - -"Tomassov ceased and stared queerly at me above the head of the -prisoner. - -"I said, 'What did he mean?' - -"'That's what I asked him,' answered Tomassov in a dazed tone, 'and he -said that he wanted me to do him the favour to blow his brains out. As a -fellow soldier he said. 'As a man of feeling--as--as a humane man.' - -"The prisoner sat between us like an awful gashed mummy as to the face, -a martial scarecrow, a grotesque horror of rags and dirt, with awful -living eyes, full of vitality, full of unquenchable fire, in a body -of horrible affliction, a skeleton at the feast of glory. And suddenly -those shining unextinguishable eyes of his became fixed upon Tomassov. -He, poor fellow, fascinated, returned the ghastly stare of a suffering -soul in that mere husk of a man. The prisoner croaked at him in French. - -"'I recognize, you know. You are her Russian youngster. You were -very grateful. I call on you to pay the debt. Pay it, I say, with one -liberating shot. You are a man of honour. I have not even a broken -sabre. All my being recoils from my own degradation. You know me.' - -"Tomassov said nothing. - -"'Haven't you got the soul of a warrior?' the Frenchman asked in an -angry whisper, but with something of a mocking intention in it. - -"'I don't know,' said poor Tomassov. - -"What a look of contempt that scarecrow gave him out of his unquenchable -eyes. He seemed to live only by the force of infuriated and impotent -despair. Suddenly he gave a gasp and fell forward writhing in the -agony of cramp in all his limbs; a not unusual effect of the heat of a -camp-fire. It resembled the application of some horrible torture. But -he tried to fight against the pain at first. He only moaned low while we -bent over him so as to prevent him rolling into the fire, and muttered -feverishly at intervals: '_Tuez moi, tuez moi_...' till, vanquished by -the pain, he screamed in agony, time after time, each cry bursting out -through his compressed lips. - -"The adjutant woke up on the other side of the fire and started swearing -awfully at the beastly row that Frenchman was making. - -"'What's this? More of your infernal humanity, Tomassov,' he yelled -at us. 'Why don't you have him thrown out of this to the devil on the -snow?' - -"As we paid no attention to his shouts, he got up, cursing shockingly, -and went away to another fire. Presently the French officer became -easier. We propped him up against the log and sat silent on each side -of him till the bugles started their call at the first break of day. The -big flame, kept up all through the night, paled on the livid sheet -of snow, while the frozen air all round rang with the brazen notes of -cavalry trumpets. The Frenchman's eyes, fixed in a glassy stare, which -for a moment made us hope that he had died quietly sitting there between -us two, stirred slowly to right and left, looking at each of our faces -in turn. Tomassov and I exchanged glances of dismay. Then De Castel's -voice, unexpected in its renewed strength and ghastly self-possession, -made us shudder inwardly. - -"'_Bonjour, Messieurs_.' - -"His chin dropped on his breast. Tomassov addressed me in Russian. - -"'It is he, the man himself...' I nodded and Tomassov went on in a tone -of anguish: 'Yes, he! Brilliant, accomplished, envied by men, loved by -that woman--this horror--this miserable thing that cannot die. Look at -his eyes. It's terrible.' - -"I did not look, but I understood what Tomassov meant. We could do -nothing for him. This avenging winter of fate held both the fugitives -and the pursuers in its iron grip. Compassion was but a vain word before -that unrelenting destiny. I tried to say something about a convoy being -no doubt collected in the village--but I faltered at the mute glance -Tomassov gave me. We knew what those convoys were like: appalling mobs -of hopeless wretches driven on by the butts of Cossacks' lances, back to -the frozen inferno, with their faces set away from their homes. - -"Our two squadrons had been formed along the edge of the forest. The -minutes of anguish were passing. The Frenchman suddenly struggled to his -feet. We helped him almost without knowing what we were doing. - -"'Come,' he said, in measured tones. 'This is the moment.' He paused -for a long time, then with the same distinctness went on: 'On my word of -honour, all faith is dead in me.' - -"His voice lost suddenly its self-possession. After waiting a little -while he added in a murmur: 'And even my courage.... Upon my honour.' - -"Another long pause ensued before, with a great effort, he whispered -hoarsely: 'Isn't this enough to move a heart of stone? Am I to go on my -knees to you?' - -"Again a deep silence fell upon the three of us. Then the French officer -flung his last word of anger at Tomassov. - -"'Milksop!' - -"Not a feature of the poor fellow moved. I made up my mind to go and -fetch a couple of our troopers to lead that miserable prisoner away to -the village. There was nothing else for it. I had not moved six paces -towards the group of horses and orderlies in front of our squadron -when... but you have guessed it. Of course. And I, too, I guessed it, -for I give you my word that the report of Tomassov's pistol was the most -insignificant thing imaginable. The snow certainly does absorb sound. It -was a mere feeble pop. Of the orderlies holding our horses I don't think -one turned his head round. - -"Yes. Tomassov had done it. Destiny had led that De Castel to the man -who could understand him perfectly. But it was poor Tomassov's lot to be -the predestined victim. You know what the world's justice and mankind's -judgment are like. They fell heavily on him with a sort of inverted -hypocrisy. Why! That brute of an adjutant, himself, was the first to set -going horrified allusions to the shooting of a prisoner in cold blood! -Tomassov was not dismissed from the service of course. But after the -siege of Dantzig he asked for permission to resign from the army, and -went away to bury himself in the depths of his province, where a vague -story of some dark deed clung to him for years. - -"Yes. He had done it. And what was it? One warrior's soul paying its -debt a hundredfold to another warrior's soul by releasing it from a fate -worse than death--the loss of all faith and courage. You may look on -it in that way. I don't know. And perhaps poor Tomassov did not know -himself. But I was the first to approach that appalling dark group on -the snow: the Frenchman extended rigidly on his back, Tomassov kneeling -on one knee rather nearer to the feet than to the Frenchman's head. He -had taken his cap off and his hair shone like gold in the light drift -of flakes that had begun to fall. He was stooping over the dead in a -tenderly contemplative attitude. And his young, ingenuous face, with -lowered eyelids, expressed no grief, no sternness, no horror--but was -set in the repose of a profound, as if endless and endlessly silent, -meditation." - - - - - -PRINCE ROMAN (1911) - - -"Events which happened seventy years ago are perhaps rather too far off -to be dragged aptly into a mere conversation. Of course the year 1831 is -for us an historical date, one of these fatal years when in the presence -of the world's passive indignation and eloquent sympathies we had once -more to murmur '_Vo Victis_' and count the cost in sorrow. Not that -we were ever very good at calculating, either, in prosperity or -in adversity. That's a lesson we could never learn, to the great -exasperation of our enemies who have bestowed upon us the epithet of -Incorrigible...." - -The speaker was of Polish nationality, that nationality not so much -alive as surviving, which persists in thinking, breathing, speaking, -hoping, and suffering in its grave, railed in by a million of bayonets -and triple-sealed with the seals of three great empires. - -The conversation was about aristocracy. How did this, nowadays -discredited, subject come up? It is some years ago now and the precise -recollection has faded. But I remember that it was not considered -practically as an ingredient in the social mixture; and I verily -believed that we arrived at that subject through some exchange of ideas -about patriotism--a somewhat discredited sentiment, because the delicacy -of our humanitarians regards it as a relic of barbarism. Yet neither the -great Florentine painter who closed his eyes in death thinking of his -city, nor St. Francis blessing with his last breath the town of Assisi, -were barbarians. It requires a certain greatness of soul to interpret -patriotism worthily--or else a sincerity of feeling denied to the -vulgar refinement of modern thought which cannot understand the august -simplicity of a sentiment proceeding from the very nature of things and -men. - -The aristocracy we were talking about was the very highest, the great -families of Europe, not impoverished, not converted, not liberalized, -the most distinctive and specialized class of all classes, for which -even ambition itself does not exist among the usual incentives to -activity and regulators of conduct. - -The undisputed right of leadership having passed away from them, we -judged that their great fortunes, their cosmopolitanism brought about by -wide alliances, their elevated station, in which there is so little to -gain and so much to lose, must make their position difficult in times -of political commotion or national upheaval. No longer born to -command--which is the very essence of aristocracy--it becomes difficult -for them to do aught else but hold aloof from the great movements of -popular passion. - -We had reached that conclusion when the remark about far-off events was -made and the date of 1831 mentioned. And the speaker continued: - -"I don't mean to say that I knew Prince Roman at that remote time. I -begin to feel pretty ancient, but I am not so ancient as that. In fact -Prince Roman was married the very year my father was born. It was in -1828; the 19th Century was young yet and the Prince was even younger -than the century, but I don't know exactly by how much. In any case -his was an early marriage. It was an ideal alliance from every point -of view. The girl was young and beautiful, an orphan heiress of a great -name and of a great fortune. The Prince, then an officer in the -Guards and distinguished amongst his fellows by something reserved -and reflective in his character, had fallen headlong in love with her -beauty, her charm, and the serious qualities of her mind and heart. He -was a rather silent young man; but his glances, his bearing, his whole -person expressed his absolute devotion to the woman of his choice, a -devotion which she returned in her own frank and fascinating manner. - -"The flame of this pure young passion promised to burn for ever; and for -a season it lit up the dry, cynical atmosphere of the great world of St. -Petersburg. The Emperor Nicholas himself, the grandfather of the present -man, the one who died from the Crimean War, the last perhaps of the -Autocrats with a mystical belief in the Divine character of his mission, -showed some interest in this pair of married lovers. It is true that -Nicholas kept a watchful eye on all the doings of the great Polish -nobles. The young people leading a life appropriate to their station -were obviously wrapped up in each other; and society, fascinated by the -sincerity of a feeling moving serenely among the artificialities of -its anxious and fastidious agitation, watched them with benevolent -indulgence and an amused tenderness. - -"The marriage was the social event of 1828, in the capital. Just forty -years afterwards I was staying in the country house of my mother's -brother in our southern provinces. - -"It was the dead of winter. The great lawn in front was as pure and -smooth as an alpine snowfield, a white and feathery level sparkling -under the sun as if sprinkled with diamond-dust, declining gently to -the lake--a long, sinuous piece of frozen water looking bluish and -more solid than the earth. A cold brilliant sun glided low above an -undulating horizon of great folds of snow in which the villages of -Ukrainian peasants remained out of sight, like clusters of boats hidden -in the hollows of a running sea. And everything was very still. - -"I don't know now how I had managed to escape at eleven o'clock in the -morning from the schoolroom. I was a boy of eight, the little girl, -my cousin, a few months younger than myself, though hereditarily more -quick-tempered, was less adventurous. So I had escaped alone; and -presently I found myself in the great stone-paved hall, warmed by a -monumental stove of white tiles, a much more pleasant locality than the -schoolroom, which for some reason or other, perhaps hygienic, was always -kept at a low temperature. - -"We children were aware that there was a guest staying in the house. He -had arrived the night before just as we were being driven off to bed. -We broke back through the line of beaters to rush and flatten our noses -against the dark window panes; but we were too late to see him alight. -We had only watched in a ruddy glare the big travelling carriage on -sleigh-runners harnessed with six horses, a black mass against the snow, -going off to the stables, preceded by a horseman carrying a blazing ball -of tow and resin in an iron basket at the end of a long stick swung from -his saddle bow. Two stable boys had been sent out early in the afternoon -along the snow-tracks to meet the expected guest at dusk and light his -way with these road torches. At that time, you must remember, there -was not a single mile of railways in our southern provinces. My little -cousin and I had no knowledge of trains and engines, except from -picture-books, as of things rather vague, extremely remote, and not -particularly interesting unless to grownups who travelled abroad. - -"Our notion of princes, perhaps a little more precise, was mainly -literary and had a glamour reflected from the light of fairy tales, in -which princes always appear young, charming, heroic, and fortunate. Yet, -as well as any other children, we could draw a firm line between the -real and the ideal. We knew that princes were historical personages. And -there was some glamour in that fact, too. But what had driven me to -roam cautiously over the house like an escaped prisoner was the hope of -snatching an interview with a special friend of mine, the head forester, -who generally came to make his report at that time of the day, I yearned -for news of a certain wolf. You know, in a country where wolves are to -be found, every winter almost brings forward an individual eminent by -the audacity of his misdeeds, by his more perfect wolfishness--so to -speak. I wanted to hear some new thrilling tale of that wolf--perhaps -the dramatic story of his death.... - -"But there was no one in the hall. - -"Deceived in my hopes, I became suddenly very much depressed. Unable to -slip back in triumph to my studies I elected to stroll spiritlessly into -the billiard room where certainly I had no business. There was no one -there either, and I felt very lost and desolate under its high ceiling, -all alone with the massive English billiard table which seemed, in -heavy, rectilinear silence, to disapprove of that small boy's intrusion. - -"As I began to think of retreat I heard footsteps in the adjoining -drawing room; and, before I could turn tail and flee, my uncle and his -guest appeared in the doorway. To run away after having been seen -would have been highly improper, so I stood my ground. My uncle looked -surprised to see me; the guest by his side was a spare man, of average -stature, buttoned up in a black frock coat and holding himself very -erect with a stiffly soldier-like carriage. From the folds of a soft -white cambric neck-cloth peeped the points of a collar close against -each shaven cheek. A few wisps of thin gray hair were brushed smoothly -across the top of his bald head. His face, which must have been -beautiful in its day, had preserved in age the harmonious simplicity -of its lines. What amazed me was its even, almost deathlike pallor. He -seemed to me to be prodigiously old. A faint smile, a mere momentary -alteration in the set of his thin lips acknowledged my blushing -confusion; and I became greatly interested to see him reach into the -inside breastpocket of his coat. He extracted therefrom a lead pencil -and a block of detachable pages, which he handed to my uncle with an -almost imperceptible bow. - -"I was very much astonished, but my uncle received it as a matter -of course. He wrote something at which the other glanced and nodded -slightly. A thin wrinkled hand--the hand was older than the face--patted -my cheek and then rested on my head lightly. An un-ringing voice, a -voice as colourless as the face itself, issued from his sunken lips, -while the eyes, dark and still, looked down at me kindly. - -"'And how old is this shy little boy?'" - -"Before I could answer my uncle wrote down my age on the pad. I was -deeply impressed. What was this ceremony? Was this personage too great -to be spoken to? Again he glanced at the pad, and again gave a nod, and -again that impersonal, mechanical voice was heard: 'He resembles his -grandfather.' - -"I remembered my paternal grandfather. He had died not long before. He, -too, was prodigiously old. And to me it seemed perfectly natural that -two such ancient and venerable persons should have known each other in -the dim ages of creation before my birth. But my uncle obviously had -not been aware of the fact. So obviously that the mechanical voice -explained: 'Yes, yes. Comrades in '31. He was one of those who knew. -Old times, my dear sir, old times....' - -"He made a gesture as if to put aside an importunate ghost. And now they -were both looking down at me. I wondered whether anything was expected -from me. To my round, questioning eyes my uncle remarked: 'He's -completely deaf.' And the unrelated, inexpressive voice said: 'Give me -your hand.' - -"Acutely conscious of inky fingers I put it out timidly. I had never -seen a deaf person before and was rather startled. He pressed it firmly -and then gave me a final pat on the head. - -"My uncle addressed me weightily: 'You have shaken hands with Prince -Roman S---------. It's something for you to remember when you grow up.' - -"I was impressed by his tone. I had enough historical information to -know vaguely that the Princes S--------- counted amongst the sovereign -Princes of Ruthenia till the union of all Ruthenian lands to the kingdom -of Poland, when they became great Polish magnates, sometime at the -beginning of the 15th Century. But what concerned me most was the -failure of the fairy-tale glamour. It was shocking to discover a prince -who was deaf, bald, meagre, and so prodigiously old. It never occurred -to me that this imposing and disappointing man had been young, rich, -beautiful; I could not know that he had been happy in the felicity of an -ideal marriage uniting two young hearts, two great names and two great -fortunes; happy with a happiness which, as in fairy tales, seemed -destined to last for ever.... - -"But it did not last for ever. It was fated not to last very long even -by the measure of the days allotted to men's passage on this earth where -enduring happiness is only found in the conclusion of fairy tales. A -daughter was born to them and shortly afterwards, the health of the -young princess began to fail. For a time she bore up with smiling -intrepidity, sustained by the feeling that now her existence was -necessary for the happiness of two lives. But at last the husband, -thoroughly alarmed by the rapid changes in her appearance, obtained an -unlimited leave and took her away from the capital to his parents in the -country. - -"The old prince and princess were extremely frightened at the state -of their beloved daughter-in-law. Preparations were at once made for a -journey abroad. But it seemed as if it were already too late; and the -invalid herself opposed the project with gentle obstinacy. Thin and pale -in the great armchair, where the insidious and obscure nervous malady -made her appear smaller and more frail every day without effacing the -smile of her eyes or the charming grace of her wasted face, she clung to -her native land and wished to breathe her native air. Nowhere else could -she expect to get well so quickly, nowhere else would it be so easy for -her to die. - -"She died before her little girl was two years old. The grief of -the husband was terrible and the more alarming to his parents because -perfectly silent and dry-eyed. After the funeral, while the immense -bareheaded crowd of peasants surrounding the private chapel on the -grounds was dispersing, the Prince, waving away his friends and -relations, remained alone to watch the masons of the estate closing the -family vault. When the last stone was in position he uttered a groan, -the first sound of pain which had escaped from him for days, and walking -away with lowered head shut himself up again in his apartments. - -"His father and mother feared for his reason. His outward tranquillity -was appalling to them. They had nothing to trust to but that very youth -which made his despair so self-absorbed and so intense. Old Prince John, -fretful and anxious, repeated: 'Poor Roman should be roused somehow. -He's so young.' But they could find nothing to rouse him with. And the -old princess, wiping her eyes, wished in her heart he were young enough -to come and cry at her knee. - -"In time Prince Roman, making an effort, would join now and again the -family circle. But it was as if his heart and his mind had been buried -in the family vault with the wife he had lost. He took to wandering in -the woods with a gun, watched over secretly by one of the keepers, who -would report in the evening that 'His Serenity has never fired a shot -all day.' Sometimes walking to the stables in the morning he would order -in subdued tones a horse to be saddled, wait switching his boot till it -was led up to him, then mount without a word and ride out of the gates -at a walking pace. He would be gone all day. People saw him on the -roads looking neither to the right nor to the left, white-faced, sitting -rigidly in the saddle like a horseman of stone on a living mount. - -"The peasants working in the fields, the great unhedged fields, looked -after him from the distance; and sometimes some sympathetic old woman on -the threshold of a low, thatched hut was moved to make the sign of the -cross in the air behind his back; as though he were one of themselves, a -simple village soul struck by a sore affliction. - -"He rode looking straight ahead seeing no one as if the earth were empty -and all mankind buried in that grave which had opened so suddenly in -his path to swallow up his happiness. What were men to him with their -sorrows, joys, labours and passions from which she who had been all the -world to him had been cut off so early? - -"They did not exist; and he would have felt as completely lonely and -abandoned as a man in the toils of a cruel nightmare if it had not been -for this countryside where he had been born and had spent his happy -boyish years. He knew it well--every slight rise crowned with trees -amongst the ploughed fields, every dell concealing a village. The dammed -streams made a chain of lakes set in the green meadows. Far away to the -north the great Lithuanian forest faced the sun, no higher than a hedge; -and to the south, the way to the plains, the vast brown spaces of the -earth touched the blue sky. - -"And this familiar landscape associated with the days without thought -and without sorrow, this land the charm of which he felt without even -looking at it soothed his pain, like the presence of an old friend who -sits silent and disregarded by one in some dark hour of life. - -"One afternoon, it happened that the Prince after turning his horse's -head for home remarked a low dense cloud of dark dust cutting off -slantwise a part of the view. He reined in on a knoll and peered. -There were slender gleams of steel here and there in that cloud, and it -contained moving forms which revealed themselves at last as a long line -of peasant carts full of soldiers, moving slowly in double file under -the escort of mounted Cossacks. - -"It was like an immense reptile creeping over the fields; its head -dipped out of sight in a slight hollow and its tail went on writhing and -growing shorter as though the monster were eating its way slowly into -the very heart of the land. - -"The Prince directed his way through a village lying a little off -the track. The roadside inn with its stable, byre, and barn under one -enormous thatched roof resembled a deformed, hunch-backed, ragged giant, -sprawling amongst the small huts of the peasants. The innkeeper, a -portly, dignified Jew, clad in a black satin coat reaching down to his -heels and girt with a red sash, stood at the door stroking his long -silvery beard. - -"He watched the Prince approach and bowed gravely from the waist, not -expecting to be noticed even, since it was well known that their young -lord had no eyes for anything or anybody in his grief. It was quite a -shock for him when the Prince pulled up and asked: - -"'What's all this, Yankel?' - -"'That is, please your Serenity, that is a convoy of footsoldiers they -are hurrying down to the south.' - -"He glanced right and left cautiously, but as there was no one near but -some children playing in the dust of the village street, he came up -close to the stirrup. - -"'Doesn't your Serenity know? It has begun already down there. All the -landowners great and small are out in arms and even the common people -have risen. Only yesterday the saddler from Grodek (it was a tiny -market-town near by) went through here with his two apprentices on his -way to join. He left even his cart with me. I gave him a guide through -our neighbourhood. You know, your Serenity, our people they travel a lot -and they see all that's going on, and they know all the roads.' - -"He tried to keep down his excitement, for the Jew Yankel, innkeeper and -tenant of all the mills on the estate, was a Polish patriot. And in a -still lower voice: - -"'I was already a married man when the French and all the other nations -passed this way with Napoleon. Tse! Tse! That was a great harvest for -death, _nu!_ Perhaps this time God will help.' - -"The Prince nodded. 'Perhaps'--and falling into deep meditation he let -his horse take him home. - -"That night he wrote a letter, and early in the morning sent a mounted -express to the post town. During the day he came out of his taciturnity, -to the great joy of the family circle, and conversed with his father -of recent events--the revolt in Warsaw, the flight of the Grand Duke -Constantine, the first slight successes of the Polish army (at that time -there was a Polish army); the risings in the provinces. Old Prince John, -moved and uneasy, speaking from a purely aristocratic point of view, -mistrusted the popular origins of the movement, regretted its democratic -tendencies, and did not believe in the possibility of success. He was -sad, inwardly agitated. - -"'I am judging all this calmly. There are secular principles of -legitimity and order which have been violated in this reckless -enterprise for the sake of most subversive illusions. Though of course -the patriotic impulses of the heart....' - -"Prince Roman had listened in a thoughtful attitude. He took advantage -of the pause to tell his father quietly that he had sent that morning a -letter to St. Petersburg resigning his commission in the Guards. - -"The old prince remained silent. He thought that he ought to have been -consulted. His son was also ordnance officer to the Emperor and he -knew that the Tsar would never forget this appearance of defection in a -Polish noble. In a discontented tone he pointed out to his son that as -it was he had an unlimited leave. The right thing would have been to -keep quiet. They had too much tact at Court to recall a man of his -name. Or at worst some distant mission might have been asked for--to the -Caucasus for instance--away from this unhappy struggle which was wrong -in principle and therefore destined to fail. - -"'Presently you shall find yourself without any interest in life and -with no occupation. And you shall need something to occupy you, my poor -boy. You have acted rashly, I fear.' - -"Prince Roman murmured. - -"'I thought it better.' - -"His father faltered under his steady gaze. - -"'Well, well--perhaps! But as ordnance officer to the Emperor and in -favour with all the Imperial family....' - -"'Those people had never been heard of when our house was already -illustrious,' the young man let fall disdainfully. - -"This was the sort of remark to which the old prince was sensible. - -"'Well--perhaps it is better,' he conceded at last. - -"The father and son parted affectionately for the night. The next -day Prince Roman seemed to have fallen back into the depths of his -indifference. He rode out as usual. He remembered that the day before -he had seen a reptile-like convoy of soldiery, bristling with bayonets, -crawling over the face of that land which was his. The woman he loved -had been his, too. Death had robbed him of her. Her loss had been to him -a moral shock. It had opened his heart to a greater sorrow, his mind -to a vaster thought, his eyes to all the past and to the existence of -another love fraught with pain but as mysteriously imperative as that -lost one to which he had entrusted his happiness. - -"That evening he retired earlier than usual and rang for his personal -servant. - -"'Go and see if there is light yet in the quarters of the -Master-of-the-Horse. If he is still up ask him to come and speak to me.' - -"While the servant was absent on this errand the Prince tore up hastily -some papers, locked the drawers of his desk, and hung a medallion, -containing the miniature of his wife, round his neck against his breast. - -"The man the Prince was expecting belonged to that past which the death -of his love had called to life. He was of a family of small nobles who -for generations had been adherents, servants, and friends of the Princes -S---------. He remembered the times before the last partition and had -taken part in the struggles of the last hour. He was a typical old Pole -of that class, with a great capacity for emotion, for blind enthusiasm; -with martial instincts and simple beliefs; and even with the old-time -habit of larding his speech with Latin words. And his kindly shrewd -eyes, his ruddy face, his lofty brow and his thick, gray, pendent -moustache were also very typical of his kind. - -"'Listen, Master Francis,' the Prince said familiarly and without -preliminaries. 'Listen, old friend. I am going to vanish from here -quietly. I go where something louder than my grief and yet something -with a voice very like it calls me. I confide in you alone. You will say -what's necessary when the time comes.' - -"The old man understood. His extended hands trembled exceedingly. But -as soon as he found his voice he thanked God aloud for letting him -live long enough to see the descendant of the illustrious family in its -youngest generation give an example _coram Gentibus_ of the love of his -country and of valour in the field. He doubted not of his dear Prince -attaining a place in council and in war worthy of his high birth; he saw -already that _in fulgore_ of family glory _affulget patride serenitas_. -At the end of the speech he burst into tears and fell into the Prince's -arms. - -"The Prince quieted the old man and when he had him seated in an -armchair and comparatively composed he said: - -"'Don't misunderstand me, Master Francis. You know how I loved my wife. -A loss like that opens one's eyes to unsuspected truths. There is no -question here of leadership and glory. I mean to go alone and to fight -obscurely in the ranks. I am going to offer my country what is mine to -offer, that is my life, as simply as the saddler from Grodek who went -through yesterday with his apprentices.' - -"The old man cried out at this. That could never be. He could not allow -it. But he had to give way before the arguments and the express will -of the Prince. "'Ha! If you say that it is a matter of feeling and -conscience--so be it. But you cannot go utterly alone. Alas! that I am -too old to be of any use. _Cripit verba dolor_, my dear Prince, at the -thought that I am over seventy and of no more account in the world than -a cripple in the church porch. It seems that to sit at home and pray to -God for the nation and for you is all I am fit for. But there is my son, -my youngest son, Peter. He will make a worthy companion for you. And -as it happens he's staying with me here. There has not been for ages a -Prince S--------- hazarding his life without a companion of our name to -ride by his side. You must have by you somebody who knows who you are if -only to let your parents and your old servant hear what is happening to -you. And when does your Princely Mightiness mean to start?' - -"'In an hour,' said the Prince; and the old man hurried off to warn his -son. - -"Prince Roman took up a candlestick and walked quietly along a dark -corridor in the silent house. The head-nurse said afterwards that waking -up suddenly she saw the Prince looking at his child, one hand shading -the light from its eyes. He stood and gazed at her for some time, and -then putting the candlestick on the floor bent over the cot and kissed -lightly the little girl who did not wake. He went out noiselessly, -taking the light away with him. She saw his face perfectly well, but she -could read nothing of his purpose in it. It was pale but perfectly calm -and after he turned away from the cot he never looked back at it once. - -"The only other trusted person, besides the old man and his son Peter, -was the Jew Yankel. When he asked the Prince where precisely he wanted -to be guided the Prince answered: 'To the nearest party.' A grandson -of the Jew, a lanky youth, conducted the two young men by little-known -paths across woods and morasses, and led them in sight of the few fires -of a small detachment camped in a hollow. Some invisible horses neighed, -a voice in the dark cried: 'Who goes there?'... and the young Jew -departed hurriedly, explaining that he must make haste home to be in -time for keeping the Sabbath. - -"Thus humbly and in accord with the simplicity of the vision of duty he -saw when death had removed the brilliant bandage of happiness from his -eyes, did Prince Roman bring his offering to his country. His companion -made himself known as the son of the Master of-the-Horse to the Princes -S--------- and declared him to be a relation, a distant cousin from the -same parts as himself and, as people presumed, of the same name. In -truth no one inquired much. Two more young men clearly of the right sort -had joined. Nothing more natural. - -"Prince Roman did not remain long in the south. One day while scouting -with several others, they were ambushed near the entrance of a village -by some Russian infantry. The first discharge laid low a good many and -the rest scattered in all directions. The Russians, too, did not stay, -being afraid of a return in force. After some time, the peasants coming -to view the scene extricated Prince Roman from under his dead horse. He -was unhurt but his faithful companion had been one of the first to fall. -The Prince helped the peasants to bury him and the other dead. - -"Then alone, not certain where to find the body of partizans which was -constantly moving about in all directions, he resolved to try and join -the main Polish army facing the Russians on the borders of Lithuania. -Disguised in peasant clothes, in case of meeting some marauding -Cossacks, he wandered a couple of weeks before he came upon a village -occupied by a regiment of Polish cavalry on outpost duty. - -"On a bench, before a peasant hut of a better sort, sat an elderly -officer whom he took for the colonel. The Prince approached -respectfully, told his story shortly and stated his desire to enlist; -and when asked his name by the officer, who had been looking him over -carefully, he gave on the spur of the moment the name of his dead -companion. - -"The elderly officer thought to himself: Here's the son of some peasant -proprietor of the liberated class. He liked his appearance. - -"'And can you read and write, my good fellow?'he asked. - -"'Yes, your honour, I can,' said the Prince. - -"'Good. Come along inside the hut; the regimental adjutant is there. He -will enter your name and administer the oath to you.' - -"The adjutant stared very hard at the newcomer but said nothing. When -all the forms had been gone through and the recruit gone out, he turned -to his superior officer. - -"'Do you know who that is?' - -"'Who? That Peter? A likely chap.' - -"'That's Prince Roman S---------.' - -"'Nonsense.' - -"But the adjutant was positive. He had seen the Prince several times, -about two years before, in the Castle in Warsaw. He had even spoken to -him once at a reception of officers held by the Grand Duke. - -"'He's changed. He seems much older, but I am certain of my man. I have -a good memory for faces.' - -"The two officers looked at each other in silence. - -"'He's sure to be recognized sooner or later,' murmured the adjutant. -The colonel shrugged his shoulders. - -"'It's no affair of ours--if he has a fancy to serve in the ranks. As to -being recognized it's not so likely. All our officers and men come from -the other end of Poland.' - -"He meditated gravely for a while, then smiled. 'He told me he could -read and write. There's nothing to prevent me making him a sergeant at -the first opportunity. He's sure to shape all right.' - -"Prince Roman as a non-commissioned officer surpassed the colonel's -expectations. Before long Sergeant Peter became famous for his -resourcefulness and courage. It was not the reckless courage of a -desperate man; it was a self-possessed, as if conscientious, valour -which nothing could dismay; a boundless but equable devotion, unaffected -by time, by reverses, by the discouragement of endless retreats, by the -bitterness of waning hopes and the horrors of pestilence added to the -toils and perils of war. It was in this year that the cholera made its -first appearance in Europe. It devastated the camps of both armies, -affecting the firmest minds with the terror of a mysterious death -stalking silently between the piled-up arms and around the bivouac -fires. - -"A sudden shriek would wake up the harassed soldiers and they would see -in the glow of embers one of themselves writhe on the ground like a worm -trodden on by an invisible foot. And before the dawn broke he would be -stiff and cold. Parties so visited have been known to rise like one man, -abandon the fire and run off into the night in mute panic. Or a comrade -talking to you on the march would stammer suddenly in the middle of a -sentence, roll affrighted eyes, and fall down with distorted face and -blue lips, breaking the ranks with the convulsions of his agony. Men -were struck in the saddle, on sentry duty, in the firing line, carrying -orders, serving the guns. I have been told that in a battalion forming -under fire with perfect steadiness for the assault of a village, three -cases occurred within five minutes at the head of the column; and the -attack could not be delivered because the leading companies scattered -all over the fields like chaff before the wind. - -"Sergeant Peter, young as he was, had a great influence over his men. -It was said that the number of desertions in the squadron in which he -served was less than in any other in the whole of that cavalry division. -Such was supposed to be the compelling example of one man's quiet -intrepidity in facing every form of danger and terror. - -"However that may be, he was liked and trusted generally. When the end -came and the remnants of that army corps, hard pressed on all sides, -were preparing to cross the Prussian frontier, Sergeant Peter had enough -influence to rally round him a score of troopers. He managed to escape -with them at night, from the hemmed-in army. He led this band through -200 miles of country covered by numerous Russian detachments and ravaged -by the cholera. But this was not to avoid captivity, to go into hiding -and try to save themselves. No. He led them into a fortress which was -still occupied by the Poles, and where the last stand of the vanquished -revolution was to be made. - -"This looks like mere fanaticism. But fanaticism is human. Man has -adored ferocious divinities. There is ferocity in every passion, even -in love itself. The religion of undying hope resembles the mad cult of -despair, of death, of annihilation. The difference lies in the moral -motive springing from the secret needs and the unexpressed aspiration -of the believers. It is only to vain men that all is vanity; and all is -deception only to those who have never been sincere with themselves. - -"It was in the fortress that my grandfather found himself together with -Sergeant Peter. My grandfather was a neighbour of the S--------- family -in the country but he did not know Prince Roman, who however knew his -name perfectly well. The Prince introduced himself one night as they -both sat on the ramparts, leaning against a gun carriage. - -"The service he wished to ask for was, in case of his being killed, to -have the intelligence conveyed to his parents. - -"They talked in low tones, the other servants of the piece lying about -near them. My grandfather gave the required promise, and then asked -frankly--for he was greatly interested by the disclosure so unexpectedly -made: - -"But tell me, Prince, why this request? Have you any evil forebodings as -to yourself?' - -"Not in the least; I was thinking of my people. They have no idea where -I am,' answered Prince Roman. 'I'll engage to do as much for you, if you -like. It's certain that half of us at least shall be killed before the -end, so there's an even chance of one of us surviving the other.' - -"My grandfather told him where, as he supposed, his wife and children -were then. From that moment till the end of the siege the two were much -together. On the day of the great assault my grandfather received a -severe wound. The town was taken. Next day the citadel itself, its -hospital full of dead and dying, its magazines empty, its defenders -having burnt their last cartridge, opened its gates. - -"During all the campaign the Prince, exposing his person conscientiously -on every occasion, had not received a scratch. No one had recognized him -or at any rate had betrayed his identity. Till then, as long as he did -his duty, it had mattered nothing who he was. - -"Now, however, the position was changed. As ex-guardsman and as late -ordnance officer to the Emperor, this rebel ran a serious risk of being -given special attention in the shape of a firing squad at ten paces. For -more than a month he remained lost in the miserable crowd of prisoners -packed in the casemates of the citadel, with just enough food to -keep body and soul together but otherwise allowed to die from wounds, -privation, and disease at the rate of forty or so a day. - -"The position of the fortress being central, new parties, captured in -the open in the course of a thorough pacification, were being sent in -frequently. Amongst such newcomers there happened to be a young man, a -personal friend of the Prince from his school days. He recognized him, -and in the extremity of his dismay cried aloud: 'My God! Roman, you -here!' - -"It is said that years of life embittered by remorse paid for this -momentary lack of self-control. All this happened in the main quadrangle -of the citadel. The warning gesture of the Prince came too late. -An officer of the gendarmes on guard had heard the exclamation. The -incident appeared to him worth inquiring into. The investigation which -followed was not very arduous because the Prince, asked categorically -for his real name, owned up at once. - -"The intelligence of the Prince S---------- being found amongst the -prisoners was sent to St. Petersburg. His parents were already there -living in sorrow, incertitude, and apprehension. The capital of the -Empire was the safest place to reside in for a noble whose son had -disappeared so mysteriously from home in a time of rebellion. The old -people had not heard from him, or of him, for months. They took care -not to contradict the rumours of suicide from despair circulating in the -great world, which remembered the interesting love-match, the charming -and frank happiness brought to an end by death. But they hoped secretly -that their son survived, and that he had been able to cross the frontier -with that part of the army which had surrendered to the Prussians. - -"The news of his captivity was a crushing blow. Directly, nothing could -be done for him. But the greatness of their name, of their position, -their wide relations and connections in the highest spheres, enabled his -parents to act indirectly and they moved heaven and earth, as the saying -is, to save their son from the 'consequences of his madness,' as poor -Prince John did not hesitate to express himself. Great personages -were approached by society leaders, high dignitaries were interviewed, -powerful officials were induced to take an interest in that affair. -The help of every possible secret influence was enlisted. Some private -secretaries got heavy bribes. The mistress of a certain senator obtained -a large sum of money. - -"But, as I have said, in such a glaring case no direct appeal could be -made and no open steps taken. All that could be done was to incline -by private representation the mind of the President of the Military -Commission to the side of clemency. He ended by being impressed by the -hints and suggestions, some of them from very high quarters, which he -received from St. Petersburg. And, after all, the gratitude of such -great nobles as the Princes S-------- was something worth having from -a worldly point of view. He was a good Russian but he was also a -good-natured man. Moreover, the hate of Poles was not at that time -a cardinal article of patriotic creed as it became some thirty years -later. He felt well disposed at first sight towards that young man, -bronzed, thin-faced, worn out by months of hard campaigning, the -hardships of the siege and the rigours of captivity. - -"The Commission was composed of three officers. It sat in the citadel in -a bare vaulted room behind a long black table. Some clerks occupied the -two ends, and besides the gendarmes who brought in the Prince there was -no one else there. - -"Within those four sinister walls shutting out from him all the -sights and sounds of liberty, all hopes of the future, all consoling -illusions--alone in the face of his enemies erected for judges, who can -tell how much love of life there was in Prince Roman? How much remained -in that sense of duty, revealed to him in sorrow? How much of his -awakened love for his native country? That country which demands to -be loved as no other country has ever been loved, with the -mournful affection one bears to the unforgotten dead and with the -unextinguishable fire of a hopeless passion which only a living, -breathing, warm ideal can kindle in our breasts for our pride, for our -weariness, for our exultation, for our undoing. - -"There is something monstrous in the thought of such an exaction till -it stands before us embodied in the shape of a fidelity without fear -and without reproach. Nearing the supreme moment of his life the Prince -could only have had the feeling that it was about to end. He answered -the questions put to him clearly, concisely--with the most profound -indifference. After all those tense months of action, to talk was a -weariness to him. But he concealed it, lest his foes should suspect in -his manner the apathy of discouragement or the numbness of a crushed -spirit. The details of his conduct could have no importance one way or -another; with his thoughts these men had nothing to do. He preserved a -scrupulously courteous tone. He had refused the permission to sit down. - -"What happened at this preliminary examination is only known from the -presiding officer. Pursuing the only possible course in that glaringly -bad case he tried from the first to bring to the Prince's mind the line -of defence he wished him to take. He absolutely framed his questions so -as to put the right answers in the culprit's mouth, going so far as to -suggest the very words: how, distracted by excessive grief after his -young wife's death, rendered irresponsible for his conduct by his -despair, in a moment of blind recklessness, without realizing the highly -reprehensible nature of the act, nor yet its danger and its dishonour, -he went off to join the nearest rebels on a sudden impulse. And that -now, penitently... - -"But Prince Roman was silent. The military judges looked at him -hopefully. In silence he reached for a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper -he found under his hand: 'I joined the national rising from conviction.' - -"He pushed the paper across the table. The president took it up, showed -it in turn to his two colleagues sitting to the right and left, then -looking fixedly at Prince Roman let it fall from his hand. And the -silence remained unbroken till he spoke to the gendarmes ordering them -to remove the prisoner. - -"Such was the written testimony of Prince Roman in the supreme moment of -his life. I have heard that the Princes of the S--------- family, in -all its branches, adopted the last two words: 'From conviction' for the -device under the armorial bearings of their house. I don't know whether -the report is true. My uncle could not tell me. He remarked only, that -naturally, it was not to be seen on Prince Roman's own seal. - -"He was condemned for life to Siberian mines. Emperor Nicholas, who -always took personal cognizance of all sentences on Polish nobility, -wrote with his own hand in the margin: 'The authorities are severely -warned to take care that this convict walks in chains like any other -criminal every step of the way.' - -"It was a sentence of deferred death. Very few survived entombment in -these mines for more than three years. Yet as he was reported as still -alive at the end of that time he was allowed, on a petition of his -parents and by way of exceptional grace, to serve as common soldier in -the Caucasus. All communication with him was forbidden. He had no civil -rights. For all practical purposes except that of suffering he was a -dead man. The little child he had been so careful not to wake up when -he kissed her in her cot, inherited all the fortune after Prince John's -death. Her existence saved those immense estates from confiscation. - -"It was twenty-five years before Prince Roman, stone deaf, his health -broken, was permitted to return to Poland. His daughter married -splendidly to a Polish Austrian _grand seigneur_ and, moving in the -cosmopolitan sphere of the highest European aristocracy, lived mostly -abroad in Nice and Vienna. He, settling down on one of her estates, not -the one with the palatial residence but another where there was a modest -little house, saw very little of her. - -"But Prince Roman did not shut himself up as if his work were done. -There was hardly anything done in the private and public life of the -neighbourhood, in which Prince Roman's advice and assistance were not -called upon, and never in vain. It was well said that his days did not -belong to himself but to his fellow citizens. And especially he was the -particular friend of all returned exiles, helping them with purse and -advice, arranging their affairs and finding them means of livelihood. - -"I heard from my uncle many tales of his devoted activity, in which he -was always guided by a simple wisdom, a high sense of honour, and the -most scrupulous conception of private and public probity. He remains a -living figure for me because of that meeting in a billiard room, when, -in my anxiety to hear about a particularly wolfish wolf, I came in -momentary contact with a man who was preeminently a man amongst all men -capable of feeling deeply, of believing steadily, of loving ardently. - -"I remember to this day the grasp of Prince Roman's bony, wrinkled hand -closing on my small inky paw, and my uncle's half-serious, half-amused -way of looking down at his trespassing nephew. - -"They moved on and forgot that little boy. But I did not move; I gazed -after them, not so much disappointed as disconcerted by this prince so -utterly unlike a prince in a fairy tale. They moved very slowly across -the room. Before reaching the other door the Prince stopped, and I heard -him--I seem to hear him now--saying: 'I wish you would write to Vienna -about filling up that post. He's a most deserving fellow--and your -recommendation would be decisive.' - -"My uncle's face turned to him expressed genuine wonder. It said as -plainly as any speech could say: What better recommendation than a -father's can be needed? The Prince was quick at reading expressions. -Again he spoke with the toneless accent of a man who has not heard his -own voice for years, for whom the soundless world is like an abode of -silent shades. - -"And to this day I remember the very words: 'I ask you because, you see, -my daughter and my son-in-law don't believe me to be a good judge -of men. They think that I let myself be guided too much by mere -sentiment.'" - - - - - -THE TALE (1917) - - -Outside the large single window the crepuscular light was dying out -slowly in a great square gleam without colour, framed rigidly in the -gathering shades of the room. - -It was a long room. The irresistible tide of the night ran into the most -distant part of it, where the whispering of a man's voice, passionately -interrupted and passionately renewed, seemed to plead against the -answering murmurs of infinite sadness. - -At last no answering murmur came. His movement when he rose slowly from -his knees by the side of the deep, shadowy couch holding the shadowy -suggestion of a reclining woman revealed him tall under the low ceiling, -and sombre all over except for the crude discord of the white collar -under the shape of his head and the faint, minute spark of a brass -button here and there on his uniform. - -He stood over her a moment, masculine and mysterious in his immobility, -before he sat down on a chair near by. He could see only the faint oval -of her upturned face and, extended on her black dress, her pale hands, a -moment before abandoned to his kisses and now as if too weary to move. - -He dared not make a sound, shrinking as a man would do from the prosaic -necessities of existence. As usual, it was the woman who had the -courage. Her voice was heard first--almost conventional while her being -vibrated yet with conflicting emotions. - -"Tell me something," she said. - -The darkness hid his surprise and then his smile. Had he not just said -to her everything worth saying in the world--and that not for the first -time! - -"What am I to tell you?" he asked, in a voice creditably steady. He was -beginning to feel grateful to her for that something final in her tone -which had eased the strain. - -"Why not tell me a tale?" - -"A tale!" He was really amazed. - -"Yes. Why not?" - -These words came with a slight petulance, the hint of a loved woman's -capricious will, which is capricious only because it feels itself to to -be a law, embarrassing sometimes and always difficult to elude. - -"Why not?" he repeated, with a slightly mocking accent, as though he had -been asked to give her the moon. But now he was feeling a little angry -with her for that feminine mobility that slips out of an emotion as -easily as out of a splendid gown. - -He heard her say, a little unsteadily with a sort of fluttering -intonation which made him think suddenly of a butterfly's flight: - -"You used to tell--your--your simple and--and professional--tales very -well at one time. Or well enough to interest me. You had a--a sort of -art--in the days--the days before the war." - -"Really?" he said, with involuntary gloom. "But now, you see, the war -is going on," he continued in such a dead, equable tone that she felt a -slight chill fall over her shoulders. And yet she persisted. For there's -nothing more unswerving in the world than a woman's caprice. - -"It could be a tale not of this world," she explained. - -"You want a tale of the other, the better world?" he asked, with a -matter-of-fact surprise. "You must evoke for that task those who have -already gone there." - -"No. I don't mean that. I mean another--some other--world. In the -universe--not in heaven." - -"I am relieved. But you forget that I have only five days' leave." - -"Yes. And I've also taken a five days' leave from--from my duties." - -"I like that word." - -"What word?" - -"Duty." - -"It is horrible--sometimes." - -"Oh, that's because you think it's narrow. But it isn't. It contains -infinities, and--and so------" - -"What is this jargon?" - -He disregarded the interjected scorn. "An infinity of absolution, for -instance," he continued. "But as to this another world'--who's going to -look for it and for the tale that is in it?" - -"You," she said, with a strange, almost rough, sweetness of assertion. - -He made a shadowy movement of assent in his chair, the irony of which -not even the gathered darkness could render mysterious. - -"As you will. In that world, then, there was once upon a time a -Commanding Officer and a Northman. Put in the capitals, please, because -they had no other names. It was a world of seas and continents and -islands------" - -"Like the earth," she murmured, bitterly. - -"Yes. What else could you expect from sending a man made of our common, -tormented clay on a voyage of discovery? What else could he find? What -else could you understand or care for, or feel the existence of even? -There was comedy in it, and slaughter." - -"Always like the earth," she murmured. "Always. And since I could find -in the universe only what was deeply rooted in the fibres of my being -there was love in it, too. But we won't talk of that." - -"No. We won't," she said, in a neutral tone which concealed perfectly -her relief--or her disappointment. Then after a pause she added: "It's -going to be a comic story." - -"Well------" he paused, too. "Yes. In a way. In a very grim way. It will -be human, and, as you know, comedy is but a matter of the visual angle. -And it won't be a noisy story. All the long guns in it will be dumb--as -dumb as so many telescopes." - -"Ah, there are guns in it, then! And may I ask--where?" - -"Afloat. You remember that the world of which we speak had its seas. A -war was going on in it. It was a funny work! and terribly in earnest. -Its war was being carried on over the land, over the water, under the -water, up in the air, and even under the ground. And many young men -in it, mostly in wardrooms and mess-rooms, used to say to each -other--pardon the unparliamentary word--they used to say, 'It's a damned -bad war, but it's better than no war at all.' Sounds flippant, doesn't -it." - -He heard a nervous, impatient sigh in the depths of the couch while he -went on without a pause. - -"And yet there is more in it than meets the eye. I mean more wisdom. -Flippancy, like comedy, is but a matter of visual first impression. That -world was not very wise. But there was in it a certain amount of common -working sagacity. That, however, was mostly worked by the neutrals in -diverse ways, public and private, which had to be watched; watched by -acute minds and also by actual sharp eyes. They had to be very sharp -indeed, too, I assure you." - -"I can imagine," she murmured, appreciatively. - -"What is there that you can't imagine?" he pronounced, soberly. "You -have the world in you. But let us go back to our commanding officer, -who, of course, commanded a ship of a sort. My tales if often -professional (as you remarked just now) have never been technical. So -I'll just tell you that the ship was of a very ornamental sort once, -with lots of grace and elegance and luxury about her. Yes, once! She -was like a pretty woman who had suddenly put on a suit of sackcloth and -stuck revolvers in her belt. But she floated lightly, she moved nimbly, -she was quite good enough." - -"That was the opinion of the commanding officer?" said the voice from -the couch. - -"It was. He used to be sent out with her along certain coasts to -see--what he could see. Just that. And sometimes he had some preliminary -information to help him, and sometimes he had not. And it was all one, -really. It was about as useful as information trying to convey the -locality and intentions of a cloud, of a phantom taking shape here and -there and impossible to seize, would have been. - -"It was in the early days of the war. What at first used to amaze -the commanding officer was the unchanged face of the waters, with its -familiar expression, neither more friendly nor more hostile. On fine -days the sun strikes sparks upon the blue; here and there a peaceful -smudge of smoke hangs in the distance, and it is impossible to believe -that the familiar clear horizon traces the limit of one great circular -ambush. - -"Yes, it is impossible to believe, till some day you see a ship not your -own ship (that isn't so impressive), but some ship in company, blow up -all of a sudden and plop under almost before you know what has happened -to her. Then you begin to believe. Henceforth you go out for the work -to see--what you can see, and you keep on at it with the conviction that -some day you will die from something you have not seen. One envies the -soldiers at the end of the day, wiping the sweat and blood from -their faces, counting the dead fallen to their hands, looking at the -devastated fields, the torn earth that seems to suffer and bleed -with them. One does, really. The final brutality of it--the taste of -primitive passion--the ferocious frankness of the blow struck with one's -hand--the direct call and the straight response. Well, the sea gave you -nothing of that, and seemed to pretend that there was nothing the matter -with the world." - -She interrupted, stirring a little. - -"Oh, yes. Sincerity--frankness--passion--three words of your gospel. -Don't I know them!" - -"Think! Isn't it ours--believed in common?" he asked, anxiously, -yet without expecting an answer, and went on at once: "Such were the -feelings of the commanding officer. When the night came trailing over -the sea, hiding what looked like the hypocrisy of an old friend, it was -a relief. The night blinds you frankly--and there are circumstances when -the sunlight may grow as odious to one as falsehood itself. Night is all -right. - -"At night the commanding officer could let his thoughts get away--I -won't tell you where. Somewhere where there was no choice but between -truth and death. But thick weather, though it blinded one, brought -no such relief. Mist is deceitful, the dead luminosity of the fog is -irritating. It seems that you _ought_ to see. - -"One gloomy, nasty day the ship was steaming along her beat in sight -of a rocky, dangerous coast that stood out intensely black like an -India-ink drawing on gray paper. Presently the second in command spoke -to his chief. He thought he saw something on the water, to seaward. -Small wreckage, perhaps. - -"'But there shouldn't be any wreckage here, sir,' he remarked. - -"'No,' said the commanding officer. 'The last reported submarined ships -were sunk a long way to the westward. But one never knows. There may -have been others since then not reported nor seen. Gone with all hands.' - -"That was how it began. The ship's course was altered to pass the object -close; for it was necessary to have a good look at what one could see. -Close, but without touching; for it was not advisable to come in contact -with objects of any form whatever floating casually about. Close, but -without stopping or even diminishing speed; for in those times it was -not prudent to linger on any particular spot, even for a moment. I may -tell you at once that the object was not dangerous in itself. No use -in describing it. It may have been nothing more remarkable than, say, a -barrel of a certain shape and colour. But it was significant. - -"The smooth bow-wave hove it up as if for a closer inspection, and -then the ship, brought again to her course, turned her back on it with -indifference, while twenty pairs of eyes on her deck stared in all -directions trying to see--what they could see. - -"The commanding officer and his second in command discussed the object -with understanding. It appeared to them to be not so much a proof of the -sagacity as of the activity of certain neutrals. This activity had -in many cases taken the form of replenishing the stores of certain -submarines at sea. This was generally believed, if not absolutely known. -But the very nature of things in those early days pointed that way. -The object, looked at closely and turned away from with apparent -indifference, put it beyond doubt that something of the sort had been -done somewhere in the neighbourhood. - -"The object in itself was more than suspect. But the fact of its being -left in evidence roused other suspicions. Was it the result of some deep -and devilish purpose? As to that all speculation soon appeared to be a -vain thing. Finally the two officers came to the conclusion that it -wras left there most likely by accident, complicated possibly by some -unforeseen necessity; such, perhaps, as the sudden need to get away -quickly from the spot, or something of that kind. - -"Their discussion had been carried on in curt, weighty phrases, -separated by long, thoughtful silences. And all the time their eyes -roamed about the horizon in an everlasting, almost mechanical effort of -vigilance. The younger man summed up grimly: - -"'Well, it's evidence. That's what this is. Evidence of what we were -pretty certain of before. And plain, too.' - -"'And much good it will do to us,' retorted the commanding officer. 'The -parties are miles away; the submarine, devil only knows where, ready -to kill; and the noble neutral slipping away to the eastward, ready to -lie!' - -"The second in command laughed a little at the tone. But he guessed -that the neutral wouldn't even have to lie very much. Fellows like that, -unless caught in the very act, felt themselves pretty safe. They could -afford to chuckle. That fellow was probably chuckling to himself. It's -very possible he had been before at the game and didn't care a rap for -the bit of evidence left behind. It was a game in which practice made -one bold and successful, too. - -"And again he laughed faintly. But his commanding officer was in -revolt against the murderous stealthiness of methods and the atrocious -callousness of complicities that seemed to taint the very source of -men's deep emotions and noblest activities; to corrupt their -imagination which builds up the final conceptions of life and death. He -suffered-------" - -The voice from the sofa interrupted the narrator. - -"How well I can understand that in him!" - -He bent forward slightly. - -"Yes. I, too. Everything should be open in love and war. Open as -the day, since both are the call of an ideal which it is so easy, so -terribly easy, to degrade in the name of Victory." - -He paused; then went on: I don't know that the commanding officer delved -so deep as that into his feelings. But he did suffer from them--a sort -of disenchanted sadness. It is possible, even, that he suspected himself -of folly. Man is various. But he had no time for much introspection, -because from the southwest a wall of fog had advanced upon his ship. -Great convolutions of vapours flew over, swirling about masts and -funnel, which looked as if they were beginning to melt. Then they -vanished. - -"The ship was stopped, all sounds ceased, and the very fog became -motionless, growing denser and as if solid in its amazing dumb -immobility. The men at their stations lost sight of each other. -Footsteps sounded stealthy; rare voices, impersonal and remote, died out -without resonance. A blind white stillness took possession of the world. - -"It looked, too, as if it would last for days. I don't mean to say that -the fog did not vary a little in its density. Now and then it would -thin out mysteriously, revealing to the men a more or less ghostly -presentment of their ship. Several times the shadow of the coast itself -swam darkly before their eyes through the fluctuating opaque brightness -of the great white cloud clinging to the water. - -"Taking advantage of these moments, the ship had been moved cautiously -nearer the shore. It was useless to remain out in such thick weather. -Her officers knew every nook and cranny of the coast along their beat. -They thought that she would be much better in a certain cove. It wasn't -a large place, just ample room for a ship to swing at her anchor. She -would have an easier time of it till the fog lifted up. - -"Slowly, with infinite caution and patience, they crept closer and -closer, seeing no more of the cliffs than an evanescent dark loom with a -narrow border of angry foam at its foot. At the moment of anchoring -the fog was so thick that for all they could see they might have been a -thousand miles out in the open sea. Yet the shelter of the land could -be felt. There was a peculiar quality in the stillness of the air. Very -faint, very elusive, the wash of the ripple against the encircling land -reached their ears, with mysterious sudden pauses. - -"The anchor dropped, the leads were laid in. The commanding officer went -below into his cabin. But he had not been there very long when a voice -outside his door requested his presence on deck. He thought to himself: -'What is it now?' He felt some impatience at being called out again to -face the wearisome fog. - -"He found that it had thinned again a little and had taken on a gloomy -hue from the dark cliffs which had no form, no outline, but asserted -themselves as a curtain of shadows all round the ship, except in one -bright spot, which was the entrance from the open sea. Several officers -were looking that way from the bridge. The second in command met him -with the breathlessly whispered information that there was another ship -in the cove. - -"She had been made out by several pairs of eyes only a couple of minutes -before. She was lying at anchor very near the entrance--a mere vague -blot on the fog's brightness. And the commanding officer by staring in -the direction pointed out to him by eager hands ended by distinguishing -it at last himself. Indubitably a vessel of some sort. - -"'It's a wonder we didn't run slap into her when coming in,' observed -the second in command. - -"'Send a boat on board before she vanishes,' said the commanding -officer. He surmised that this was a coaster. It could hardly be -anything else. But another thought came into his head suddenly. 'It is -a wonder,' he said to his second in command, who had rejoined him after -sending the boat away. - -"By that time both of them had been struck by the fact that the ship so -suddenly discovered had not manifested her presence by ringing her bell. - -"'We came in very quietly, that's true,' concluded the younger officer. -'But they must have heard our leadsmen at least. We couldn't have passed -her more than fifty yards off. The closest shave! They may even have -made us out, since they were aware of something coming in. And the -strange thing is that we never heard a sound from her. The fellows on -board must have been holding their breath.' - -"'Aye,' said the commanding officer, thoughtfully. - -"In due course the boarding-boat returned, appearing suddenly -alongside, as though she had burrowed her way under the fog. The officer -in charge came up to make his report, but the commanding officer didn't -give him time to begin. He cried from a distance: - -"'Coaster, isn't she?' - -"'No, sir. A stranger--a neutral,' was the answer. - -"'No. Really! Well, tell us all about it. What is she doing here?' - -"The young man stated then that he had been told a long and complicated -story of engine troubles. But it was plausible enough from a strictly -professional point of view and it had the usual features: disablement, -dangerous drifting along the shore, weather more or less thick for days, -fear of a gale, ultimately a resolve to go in and anchor anywhere on the -coast, and so on. Fairly plausible. - -"'Engines still disabled?' inquired the commanding officer. - -"'No, sir. She has steam on them.' - -"The commanding officer took his second aside. 'By Jove!' he said, 'you -were right! They were holding their breaths as we passed them. They -were.' - -"But the second in command had his doubts now. - -"'A fog like this does muffle small sounds, sir,' he remarked. 'And what -could his object be, after all?' - -"'To sneak out unnoticed,' answered the commanding officer. - -"'Then why didn't he? He might have done it, you know. Not exactly -unnoticed, perhaps. I don't suppose he could have slipped his cable -without making some noise. Still, in a minute or so he would have been -lost to view--clean gone before we had made him out fairly. Yet he -didn't.' - -"They looked at each other. The commanding officer shook his head. -Such suspicions as the one which had entered his head are not defended -easily. He did not even state it openly. The boarding officer finished -his report. The cargo of the ship was of a harmless and useful -character. She was bound to an English port. Papers and everything in -perfect order. Nothing suspicious to be detected anywhere. - -"Then passing to the men, he reported the crew on deck as the usual lot. -Engineers of the well-known type, and very full of their achievement in -repairing the engines. The mate surly. The master rather a fine specimen -of a Northman, civil enough, but appeared to have been drinking. Seemed -to be recover-ing from a regular bout of it. - -"'I told him I couldn't give him permission to proceed. He said he -wouldn't dare to move his ship her own length out in such weather as -this, permission or no permission. I left a man on board, though.' - -"'Quite right.' - -"The commanding officer, after communing with his suspicions for a time, -called his second aside. - -"'What if she were the very ship which had been feeding some infernal -submarine or other?' he said in an undertone. - -"The other started. Then, with conviction: - -"'She would get off scot-free. You couldn't prove it, sir.' - -"'I want to look into it myself.' - -"'From the report we've heard I am afraid you couldn't even make a case -for reasonable suspicion, sir.' - -"'I'll go on board all the same.' - -"He had made up his mind. Curiosity is the great motive power of -hatred and love. What did he expect to find? He could not have told -anybody--not even himself. - -"What he really expected to find there was the atmosphere, the -atmosphere of gratuitous treachery, which in his view nothing could -excuse; for he thought that even a passion of unrighteousness for its -own sake could not excuse that. But could he detect it? Sniff it? -Taste it? Receive some mysterious communication which would turn his -invincible suspicions into a certitude strong enough to provoke action -with all its risks? - -"The master met him on the after-deck, looming up in the fog amongst the -blurred shapes of the usual snip's fittings. He was a robust Northman, -bearded, and in the force of his age. A round leather cap fitted his -head closely. His hands were rammed deep into the pockets of his short -leather jacket. He kept them there while lie explained that at sea he -lived in the chart-room, and led the way there, striding carelessly. -Just before reaching the door under the bridge he staggered a little, -recovered himself, flung it open, and stood aside, leaning his shoulder -as if involuntarily against the side of the house, and staring vaguely -into the fog-filled space. But he followed the commanding officer at -once, flung the door to, snapped on the electric light, and hastened to -thrust his hands back into his pockets, as though afraid of being seized -by them either in friendship or in hostility. - -"The place was stuffy and hot. The usual chart-rack overhead was full, -and the chart on the table was kept unrolled by an empty cup standing on -a saucer half-full of some spilt dark liquid. A slightly nibbled biscuit -reposed on the chronometer-case. There were two settees, and one of them -had been made up into a bed with a pillow and some blankets, which were -now very much tumbled. The Northman let himself fall on it, his hands -still in his pockets. - -"'Well, here I am,' he said, with a curious air of being surprised at -the sound of his own voice. - -"The commanding officer from the other settee observed the handsome, -flushed face. Drops of fog hung on the yellow beard and moustaches of -the Northman. The much darker eyebrows ran together in a puzzled frown, -and suddenly he jumped up. - -"'What I mean is that I don't know where I am. I really don't,' he -burst out, with extreme earnestness. 'Hang it all! I got turned around -somehow. The fog has been after me for a week. More than a week. And -then my engines broke down. I will tell you how it was.' - -"He burst out into loquacity. It was not hurried, but it was insistent. -It was not continuous for all that. It was broken by the most queer, -thoughtful pauses. Each of these pauses lasted no more than a couple of -seconds, and each had the profoundity of an endless meditation. When he -began again nothing betrayed in him the slightest consciousness of -these intervals. There was the same fixed glance, the same unchanged -earnestness of tone. He didn't know. Indeed, more than one of these -pauses occurred in the middle of a sentence. - -"The commanding officer listened to the tale. It struck him as more -plausible than simple truth is in the habit of being. But that, perhaps, -was prejudice. All the time the Northman was speaking the commanding -officer had been aware of an inward voice, a grave murmur in the depth -of his very own self, telling another tale, as if on purpose to keep -alive in him his indignation and his anger with that baseness of greed -or of mere outlook which lies often at the root of simple ideas. - -"It was the story that had been already told to the boarding officer -an hour or so before. The commanding officer nodded slightly at the -Northman from time to time. The latter came to an end and turned his -eyes away. He added, as an afterthought: - -"'Wasn't it enough to drive a man out of his mind with worry? And it's my -first voyage to this part, too. And the ship's my own. Your officer has -seen the papers. She isn't much, as you can see for yourself. Just an -old cargo-boat. Bare living for my family.' - -"He raised a big arm to point at a row of photographs plastering the -bulkhead. The movement was ponderous, as if the arm had been made of -lead. The commanding officer said, carelessly: - -"'You will be making a fortune yet for your family with this old ship.' - -"'Yes, if I don't lose her,' said the Northman, gloomily. - -"'I mean--out of this war,' added the commanding officer. - -"The Northman stared at him in a curiously unseeing and at the same time -interested manner, as only eyes of a particular blue shade can stare. - -"'And you wouldn't be angry at it,' he said, 'would you? You are too -much of a gentleman. We didn't bring this on you. And suppose we sat -down and cried. What good would that be? Let those cry who made -the trouble,' he concluded, with energy. 'Time's money, you say. -Well--_this_ time _is_ money. Oh! isn't it!' - -"The commanding officer tried to keep under the feeling of immense -disgust. He said to himself that it was unreasonable. Men were like -that--moral cannibals feeding on each other's misfortunes. He said -aloud: - -"'You have made it perfectly plain how it is that you are here. Your -log-book confirms you very minutely. Of course, a log-book may be -cooked. Nothing easier.' - -"The Northman never moved a muscle. He was gazing at the floor; he -seemed not to have heard. He raised his head after a while. - -"'But you can't suspect me of anything,' he muttered, negligently. - -"The commanding officer thought: 'Why should he say this?' - -"Immediately afterwards the man before him added: 'My cargo is for an -English port.' - -"His voice had turned husky for the moment. The commanding officer -reflected: 'That's true. There can be nothing. I can't suspect him. Yet -why was he lying with steam up in this fog--and then, hearing us come -in, why didn't he give some sign of life? Why? Could it be anything else -but a guilty conscience? He could tell by the leadsmen that this was a -man-of-war.' - -"Yes--why? The commanding officer went on thinking: 'Suppose I ask -him and then watch his face. He will betray himself in some way. It's -perfectly plain that the fellow _has_ been drinking. Yes, he has been -drinking; but he will have a lie ready all the same.' The commanding -officer was one of those men who are made morally and almost physically -uncomfortable by the mere thought of having to beat down a lie. He -shrank from the act in scorn and disgust, which were invincible because -more temperamental than moral. - -"So he went out on deck instead and had the crew mustered formally for -his inspection. He found them very much what the report of the boarding -officer had led him to expect. And from their answers to his questions -he could discover no flaw in the log-book story. - -"He dismissed them. His impression of them was--a picked lot; have been -promised a fistful of money each if this came off; all slightly anxious, -but not frightened. Not a single one of them likely to give the show -away. They don't feel in danger of their life. They know England and -English ways too well! - -"He felt alarmed at catching himself thinking as if his vaguest -suspicions were turning into a certitude. For, indeed, there was no -shadow of reason for his inferences. There was nothing to give away. - -"He returned to the chart-room. The Northman had lingered behind there; -and something subtly different in his bearing, more bold in his blue, -glassy stare, induced the commanding officer to conclude that the fellow -had snatched at the opportunity to take another swig at the bottle he -must have had concealed somewhere. - -"He noticed, too, that the Northman on meeting his eyes put on an -elaborately surprised expression. At least, it seemed elaborated. -Nothing could be trusted. And the Englishman felt himself with -astonishing conviction faced by an enormous lie, solid like a wall, with -no way round to get at the truth, whose ugly murderous face he seemed to -see peeping over at him with a cynical grin. - -"'I dare say,' he began, suddenly, 'you are wondering at my proceedings, -though I am not detaining you, am I? You wouldn't dare to move in this -fog?' - -"'I don't know where I am,' the Northman ejaculated, earnestly. 'I -really don't.' - -"He looked around as if the very chart-room fittings were strange -to him. The commanding officer asked him whether he had not seen any -unusual objects floating about while he was at sea. - -"'Objects! What objects? We were groping blind in the fog for days.' - -"'We had a few clear intervals' said the commanding officer. 'And I'll -tell you what we have seen and the conclusion I've come to about it.' - -"He told him in a few words. He heard the sound of a sharp breath -indrawn through closed teeth. The Northman with his hand on the table -stood absolutely motionless and dumb. He stood as if thunderstruck. Then -he produced a fatuous smile. - -"Or at least so it appeared to the commanding officer. Was this -significant, or of no meaning whatever? He didn't know, he couldn't -tell. All the truth had departed out of the world as if drawn in, -absorbed in this monstrous villainy this man was--or was not--guilty of. - -"'Shooting's too good for people that conceive neutrality in this pretty -way,' remarked the commanding officer, after a silence. - -"'Yes, yes, yes,' the Northman assented, hurriedly--then added an -unexpected and dreamy-voiced 'Perhaps.' - -"Was he pretending to be drunk, or only trying to appear sober? His -glance was straight, but it was somewhat glazed. His lips outlined -themselves firmly under his yellow moustache. But they twitched. Did -they twitch? And why was he drooping like this in his attitude? - -"'There's no perhaps about it,' pronounced the commanding officer -sternly. - -"The Northman had straightened himself. And unexpectedly he looked -stern, too. - -"'No. But what about the tempters? Better kill that lot off. There's -about four, five, six million of them,' he said, grimly; but in a moment -changed into a whining key. 'But I had better hold my tongue. You have -some suspicions.' - -"'No, I've no suspicions,' declared the commanding officer. - -"He never faltered. At that moment he had the certitude. The air of the -chart-room was thick with guilt and falsehood braving the discovery, -defying simple right, common decency, all humanity of feeling, every -scruple of conduct. - -"The Northman drew a long breath. 'Well, we know that you English are -gentlemen. But let us speak the truth. Why should we love you so very -much? You haven't done anything to be loved. We don't love the other -people, of course. They haven't done anything for that either. A fellow -comes along with a bag of gold... I haven't been in Rotterdam my last -voyage for nothing.' - -"'You may be able to tell something interesting, then, to our people -when you come into port,' interjected the officer. - -"I might. But you keep some people in your pay at Rotterdam. Let them -report. I am a neutral--am I not?... Have you ever seen a poor man -on one side and a bag of gold on the other? Of course, I couldn't be -tempted. I haven't the nerve for it. Really I haven't. It's nothing to -me. I am just talking openly for once.' - -"'Yes. And I am listening to you,' said the commanding officer, quietly. - -"The Northman leaned forward over the table. 'Now that I know you have -no suspicions, I talk. You don't know what a poor man is. I do. I am -poor myself. This old ship, she isn't much, and she is mortgaged, too. -Bare living, no more. Of course, I wouldn't have the nerve. But a man -who has nerve! See. The stuff he takes aboard looks like any other -cargo--packages, barrels, tins, copper tubes--what not. He doesn't see -it work. It isn't real to him. But he sees the gold. That's real. Of -course, nothing could induce me. I suffer from an internal disease. I -would either go crazy from anxiety--or--or--take to drink or something. -The risk is too great. Why--ruin!' - -"'It should be death.' The commanding officer got up, after this curt -declaration, which the other received with a hard stare oddly combined -with an uncertain smile. The officer's gorge rose at the atmosphere of -murderous complicity which surrounded him, denser, more impenetrable, -more acrid than the fog outside. - -"'It's nothing to me,' murmured the Northman, swaying visibly. - -"'Of course not,' assented the commanding officer, with a great effort -to keep his voice calm and low. The certitude was strong within him. -'But I am going to clear all you fellows off this coast at once. And I -will begin with you. You must leave in half an hour.' - -"By that time the officer was walking along the deck with the Northman -at his elbow. - -"'What! In this fog?' the latter cried out, huskily. - -"'Yes, you will have to go in this fog.' - -"'But I don't know where I am. I really don't.' - -"The commanding officer turned round. A sort of fury possessed him. -The eyes of the two men met. Those of the Northman expressed a profound -amazement. - -"'Oh, you don't know how to get out.' The commanding officer spoke with -composure, but his heart was beating with anger and dread. 'I will give -you your course. Steer south-by-east-half-east for about four miles -and then you will be clear to haul to the eastward for your port. The -weather will clear up before very long.' - -"'Must I? What could induce me? I haven't the nerve.' - -"'And yet you must go. Unless you want to------' - -"'I don't want to,' panted the Northman. 'I've enough of it.' - -"The commanding officer got over the side. The Northman remained -still as if rooted to the deck. Before his boat reached his ship the -commanding officer heard the steamer beginning to pick up her anchor. -Then, shadowy in the fog, she steamed out on the given course. - -"'Yes,' he said to his officers, 'I let him go.'" - -The narrator bent forward towards the couch, where no movement betrayed -the presence of a living person. - -"Listen," he said, forcibly. "That course would lead the Northman -straight on a deadly ledge of rock. And the commanding officer gave it -to him. He steamed out--ran on it--and went down. So he had spoken the -truth. He did not know where he was. But it proves nothing. Nothing -either way. It may have been the only truth in all his story. And yet... -He seems to have been driven out by a menacing stare--nothing more." - -He abandoned all pretence. - -"Yes, I gave that course to him. It seemed to me a supreme test. I -believe--no, I don't believe. I don't know. At the time I was certain. -They all went down; and I don't know whether I have done stern -retribution--or murder; whether I have added to the corpses that litter -the bed of the unreadable sea the bodies of men completely innocent or -basely guilty. I don't know. I shall never know." - -He rose. The woman on the couch got up and threw her arms round his -neck. Her eyes put two gleams in the deep shadow of the room. She knew -his passion for truth, his horror of deceit, his humanity. - -"Oh, my poor, poor------" - -"I shall never know," he repeated, sternly, disengaged himself, pressed -her hands to his lips, and went out. - - - - - -THE BLACK MATE (1884) - - -A good many years ago there were several ships loading at the Jetty, -London Dock. I am speaking here of the 'eighties of the last century, of -the time when London had plenty of fine ships in the docks, though not -so many fine buildings in its streets. - -The ships at the Jetty were fine enough; they lay one behind the other; -and the __Sapphire__, third from the end, was as good as the rest of -them, and nothing more. Each ship at the Jetty had, of course, her chief -officer on board. So had every other ship in dock. - -The policeman at the gates knew them all by sight, without being able to -say at once, without thinking, to what ship any particular man belonged. -As a matter of fact, the mates of the ships then lying in the London -Dock were like the majority of officers in the Merchant Service--a -steady, hard-working, staunch, un-romantic-looking set of men, -belonging to various classes of society, but with the professional stamp -obliterating the personal characteristics, which were not very marked -anyhow. - -This last was true of them all, with the exception of the mate of the -_Sapphire_. Of him the policemen could not be in doubt. This one had a -presence. - -He was noticeable to them in the street from a great distance; and when -in the morning he strode down the Jetty to his ship, the lumpers and -the dock labourers rolling the bales and trundling the cases of cargo on -their hand-trucks would remark to each other: - -"Here's the black mate coming along." - -That was the name they gave him, being a gross lot, who could have no -appreciation of the man's dignified bearing. And to call him black was -the superficial impressionism of the ignorant. - -Of course, Mr. Bunter, the mate of the _Sapphire_, was not black. He was -no more black than you or I, and certainly as white as any chief mate -of a ship in the whole of the Port of London. His complexion was of the -sort that did not take the tan easily; and I happen to know that -the poor fellow had had a month's illness just before he joined the -_Sapphire_. - -From this you will perceive that I knew Bunter. Of course I knew -him. And, what's more, I knew his secret at the time, this secret -which--never mind just now. Returning to Bunter's personal appearance, -it was nothing but ignorant prejudice on the part of the foreman -stevedore to say, as he did in my hearing: "I bet he's a furriner of -some sort." A man may have black hair without being set down for a Dago. -I have known a West-country sailor, boatswain of a fine ship, who looked -more Spanish than any Spaniard afloat I've ever met. He looked like a -Spaniard in a picture. - -Competent authorities tell us that this earth is to be finally the -inheritance of men with dark hair and brown eyes. It seems that already -the great majority of mankind is dark-haired in various shades. But -it is only when you meet one that you notice how men with really black -hair, black as ebony, are rare. Bunter's hair was absolutely black, -black as a raven's wing. He wore, too, all his beard (clipped, but a -good length all the same), and his eyebrows were thick and bushy. Add -to this steely blue eyes, which in a fair-haired man would have been -nothing so extraordinary, but in that sombre framing made a startling -contrast, and you will easily understand that Bunter was noticeable -enough. - -If it had not been for the quietness of his movements, for the general -soberness of his demeanour, one would have given him credit for a -fiercely passionate nature. - -Of course, he was not in his first youth; but if the expression "in the -force of his age" has any meaning, he realized it completely. He was -a tall man, too, though rather spare. Seeing him from his poop -indefatigably busy with his duties, Captain Ashton, of the clipper -ship _Elsinore_, lying just ahead of the _Sapphire_, remarked once to a -friend that "Johns has got somebody there to hustle his ship along for -him." - -Captain Johns, master of the _Sapphire_, having commanded ships for -many years, was well known without being much respected or liked. In the -company of his fellows he was either neglected or chaffed. The chaffing -was generally undertaken by Captain Ashton, a cynical and teasing sort -of man. It was Captain Ashton who permitted himself the unpleasant joke -of proclaiming once in company that "Johns is of the opinion that every -sailor above forty years of age ought to be poisoned--shipmasters in -actual command excepted." - -It was in a City restaurant, where several well-known shipmasters were -having lunch together. There was Captain Ashton, florid and jovial, in a -large white waistcoat and with a yellow rose in his buttonhole; Captain -Sellers in a sack-coat, thin and pale-faced, with his iron-gray hair -tucked behind his ears, and, but for the absence of spectacles, looking -like an ascetical mild man of books; Captain Hell, a bluff sea-dog with -hairy fingers, in blue serge and a black felt hat pushed far back off -his crimson forehead. There was also a very young shipmaster, with -a little fair moustache and serious eyes, who said nothing, and only -smiled faintly from time to time. - -Captain Johns, very much startled, raised his perplexed and credulous -glance, which, together with a low and horizontally wrinkled brow, did -not make a very intellectual _ensemble_. This impression was by no means -mended by the slightly pointed form of his bald head. - -Everybody laughed outright, and, thus guided, Captain Johns ended by -smiling rather sourly, and attempted to defend himself. It was all very -well to joke, but nowadays, when ships, to pay anything at all, had to -be driven hard on the passage and in harbour, the sea was no place for -elderly men. Only young men and men in their prime were equal to modern -conditions of push and hurry. Look at the great firms: almost every -single one of them was getting rid of men showing any signs of age. He, -for one, didn't want any oldsters on board his ship. - -And, indeed, in this opinion Captain Johns was not singular. There was -at that time a lot of seamen, with nothing against them but that they -were grizzled, wearing out the soles of their last pair of boots on the -pavements of the City in the heart-breaking search for a berth. - -Captain Johns added with a sort of ill-humoured innocence that from -holding that opinion to thinking of poisoning people was a very long -step. - -This seemed final but Captain Ashton would not let go his joke. - -"Oh, yes. I am sure you would. You said distinctly 'of no use.' What's -to be done with men who are 'of no use?' You are a kind-hearted fellow, -Johns. I am sure that if only you thought it over carefully you would -consent to have them poisoned in some painless manner." - -Captain Sellers twitched his thin, sinuous lips. - -"Make ghosts of them," he suggested, pointedly. - -At the mention of ghosts Captain Johns became shy, in his perplexed, -sly, and unlovely manner. - -Captain Ashton winked. - -"Yes. And then perhaps you would get a chance to have a communication -with the world of spirits. Surely the ghosts of seamen should haunt -ships. Some of them would be sure to call on an old shipmate." - -Captain Sellers remarked drily: - -"Don't raise his hopes like this. It's cruel. He won't see anything. You -know, Johns, that nobody has ever seen a ghost." - -At this intolerable provocation Captain Johns came out of his reserve. -With no perplexity whatever, but with a positive passion of credulity -giving momentary lustre to his dull little eyes, he brought up a lot of -authenticated instances. There were books and books full of instances. -It was merest ignorance to deny supernatural apparitions. Cases were -published every month in a special newspaper. Professor Cranks saw -ghosts daily. And Professor Cranks was no small potatoes either. One -of the biggest scientific men living. And there was that newspaper -fellow--what's his name?--who had a girl-ghost visitor. He printed in -his paper things she said to him. And to say there were no ghosts after -that! - -"Why, they have been photographed! What more proof do you want?" - -Captain Johns was indignant. Captain Bell's lips twitched, but Captain -Ashton protested now. - -"For goodness' sake don't keep him going with that. And by the by, -Johns, who's that hairy pirate you've got for your new mate? Nobody in -the Dock seems to have seen him before." - -Captain Johns, pacified by the change of subjects, answered simply that -Willy, the tobacconist at the corner of Fenchurch Street, had sent him -along. - -Willy, his shop, and the very house in Fenchurch Street, I believe, are -gone now. In his time, wearing a careworn, absent-minded look on his -pasty face, Willy served with tobacco many southern-going ships out of -the Port of London. At certain times of the day the shop would be full -of shipmasters. They sat on casks, they lounged against the counter. - -Many a youngster found his first lift in life there; many a man got -a sorely needed berth by simply dropping in for four pennyworth of -birds'-eye at an auspicious moment. Even Willy's assistant, a redheaded, -uninterested, delicate-looking young fellow, would hand you across -the counter sometimes a bit of valuable intelligence with your box of -cigarettes, in a whisper, lips hardly moving, thus: "The _Bellona_, -South Dock. Second officer wanted. You may be in time for it if you -hurry up." - -And didn't one just fly! - -"Oh, Willy sent him," said Captain Ashton. "He's a very striking man. If -you were to put a red sash round his waist and a red handkerchief round -his head he would look exactly like one of them buccaneering chaps that -made men walk the plank and carried women off into captivity. Look out, -Johns, he don't cut your throat for you and run off with the _Sapphire_. -What ship has he come out of last?" - -Captain Johns, after looking up credulously as usual, wrinkled his -brow, and said placidly that the man had seen better days. His name was -Bunter. - -"He's had command of a Liverpool ship, the _Samaria_, some years ago. He -lost her in the Indian Ocean, and had his certificate suspended for a -year. Ever since then he has not been able to get another command. He's -been knocking about in the Western Ocean trade lately." - -"That accounts for him being a stranger to everybody about the Docks," -Captain Ashton concluded as they rose from table. - -Captain Johns walked down to the Dock after lunch. He was short -of stature and slightly bandy. His appearance did not inspire the -generality of mankind with esteem; but it must have been otherwise -with his employers. He had the reputation of being an uncomfortable -commander, meticulous in trifles, always nursing a grievance of some -sort and incessantly nagging. He was not a man to kick up a row with you -and be done with it, but to say nasty things in a whining voice; a man -capable of making one's life a perfect misery if he took a dislike to an -officer. - -That very evening I went to see Bunter on board, and sympathized with -him on his prospects for the voyage. He was subdued. I suppose a man -with a secret locked up in his breast loses his buoyancy. And there was -another reason why I could not expect Bunter to show a great -elasticity of spirits. For one thing he had been very seedy lately, and -besides--but of that later. - -Captain Johns had been on board that afternoon and had loitered and -dodged about his chief mate in a manner which had annoyed Bunter -exceedingly. - -"What could he mean?" he asked with calm exasperation. "One would think -he suspected I had stolen something and tried to see in what pocket I -had stowed it away; or that somebody told him I had a tail and he wanted -to find out how I managed to conceal it. I don't like to be approached -from behind several times in one afternoon in that creepy way and then -to be looked up at suddenly in front from under my elbow. Is it a new -sort of peep-bo game? It doesn't amuse me. I am no longer a baby." - -I assured him that if anyone were to tell Captain Johns that -he--Bunter--had a tail, Johns would manage to get himself to believe -the story in some mysterious manner. He would. He was suspicious and -credulous to an inconceivable degree. He would believe any silly tale, -suspect any man of anything, and crawl about with it and ruminate the -stuff, and turn it over and over in his mind in the most miserable, -inwardly whining perplexity. He would take the meanest possible view in -the end, and discover the meanest possible course of action by a sort of -natural genius for that sort of thing. - -Bunter also told me that the mean creature had crept all over the ship -on his little, bandy legs, taking him along to grumble and whine -to about a lot of trifles. Crept about the decks like a wretched -insect--like a cockroach, only not so lively. - -Thus did the self-possessed Bunter express himself with great disgust. -Then, going on with his usual stately deliberation, made sinister by the -frown of his jet-black eyebrows: - -"And the fellow is mad, too. He tried to be sociable for a bit, and -could find nothing else but to make big eyes at me, and ask me if I -believed 'in communication beyond the grave.' Communication beyond--I -didn't know what he meant at first. I didn't know what to say. 'A very -solemn subject, Mr. Bunter,' says he. I've given a great deal of study -to it." - -Had Johns lived on shore he would have been the predestined prey of -fraudulent mediums; or even if he had had any decent opportunities -between the voyages. Luckily for him, when in England, he lived -somewhere far away in Leytonstone, with a maiden sister ten years older -than himself, a fearsome virago twice his size, before whom he trembled. -It was said she bullied him terribly in general; and in the particular -instance of his spiritualistic leanings she had her own views. - -These leanings were to her simply satanic. She was reported as having -declared that, "With God's help, she would prevent that fool from -giving himself up to the Devils." It was beyond doubt that Johns' secret -ambition was to get into personal communication with the spirits of the -dead--if only his sister would let him. But she was adamant. I was told -that while in London he had to account to her for every penny of the -money he took with him in the morning, and for every hour of his time. -And she kept the bankbook, too. - -Bunter (he had been a wild youngster, but he was well connected; -had ancestors; there was a family tomb somewhere in the home -counties)--Bunter was indignant, perhaps on account of his own dead. -Those steely-blue eyes of his flashed with positive ferocity out of that -black-bearded face. He impressed me--there was so much dark passion in -his leisurely contempt. - -"The cheek of the fellow! Enter into relations with... A mean little cad -like this! It would be an impudent intrusion. He wants to enter!... What -is it? A new sort of snobbishness or what?" - -I laughed outright at this original view of spiritism--or whatever the -ghost craze is called. Even Bunter himself condescended to smile. But it -was an austere, quickly vanished smile. A man in his almost, I may say, -tragic position couldn't be expected--you understand. He was really -worried. He was ready eventually to put up with any dirty trick in the -course of the voyage. A man could not expect much consideration should -he find himself at the mercy of a fellow like Johns. A misfortune is -a misfortune, and there's an end of it. But to be bored by mean, -low-spirited, inane ghost stories in the Johns style, all the way out -to Calcutta and back again, was an intolerable apprehension to be under. -Spiritism was indeed a solemn subject to think about in that light. -Dreadful, even! - -Poor fellow! Little we both thought that before very long he himself... -However, I could give him no comfort. I was rather appalled myself. - -Bunter had also another annoyance that day. A confounded berthing master -came on board on some pretence or other, but in reality, Bunter thought, -simply impelled by an inconvenient curiosity--inconvenient to Bunter, -that is. After some beating about the bush, that man suddenly said: - -"I can't help thinking. I've seen you before somewhere, Mr. Mate. If I -heard your name, perhaps Bunter--" - -That's the worst of a life with a mystery in it--he was much alarmed. It -was very likely that the man had seen him before--worse luck to his -excellent memory. Bunter himself could not be expected to remember every -casual dock walloper he might have had to do with. Bunter brazened it -out by turning upon the man, making use of that impressive, -black-as-night sternness of expression his unusual hair furnished -him with: - -"My name's Bunter, sir. Does that enlighten your inquisitive intellect? -And I don't ask what your name may be. I don't want to know. I've no -use for it, sir. An individual who calmly tells me to my face that he is -_not sure_ if he has seen me before, either means to be impudent or is -no better than a worm, sir. Yes, I said a worm--a blind worm!" - -Brave Bunter. That was the line to take. He fairly drove the beggar out -of the ship, as if every word had been a blow. But the pertinacity of -that brass-bound Paul Pry was astonishing. He cleared out of the ship, -of course, before Bunter's ire, not saying anything, and only trying to -cover up his retreat by a sickly smile. But once on the Jetty he turned -deliberately round, and set himself to stare in dead earnest at -the ship. He remained planted there like a mooring-post, absolutely -motionless, and with his stupid eyes winking no more than a pair of -cabin portholes. - -What could Bunter do? It was awkward for him, you know. He could not -go and put his head into the bread-locker. What he did was to take up -a position abaft the mizzen-rigging, and stare back as unwinking as -the other. So they remained, and I don't know which of them grew giddy -first; but the man on the Jetty, not having the advantage of something -to hold on to, got tired the soonest, flung his arm, giving the contest -up, as it were, and went away at last. - -Bunter told me he was glad the _Sapphire_, "that gem amongst ships" as -he alluded to her sarcastically, was going to sea next day. He had had -enough of the Dock. I understood his impatience. He had steeled himself -against any possible worry the voyage might bring, though it is clear -enough now that he was not prepared for the extraordinary experience -that was awaiting him already, and in no other part of the world than -the Indian Ocean itself; the very part of the world where the poor -fellow had lost his ship and had broken his luck, as it seemed for good -and all, at the same time. - -As to his remorse in regard to a certain secret action of his life, -well, I understand that a man of Bunter's fine character would suffer -not a little. Still, between ourselves, and without the slightest wish -to be cynical, it cannot be denied that with the noblest of us the fear -of being found out enters for some considerable part into the composition -of remorse. I didn't say this in so many words to Bunter, but, as the -poor fellow harped a bit on it, I told him that there were skeletons in -a good many honest cupboards, and that, as to his own particular guilt, -it wasn't writ large on his face for everybody to see--so he needn't -worry as to that. And besides, he would be gone to sea in about twelve -hours from now. - -He said there was some comfort in that thought, and went off then -to spend his last evening for many months with his wife. For all his -wildness, Bunter had made no mistake in his marrying. He had married a -lady. A perfect lady. She was a dear little woman, too. As to her pluck, -I, who know what times they had to go through, I cannot admire her -enough for it. Real, hard-wearing every day and day after day pluck that -only a woman is capable of when she is of the right sort--the undismayed -sort I would call it. - -The black mate felt this parting with his wife more than any of -the previous ones in all the years of bad luck. But she was of the -undismayed kind, and showed less trouble in her gentle face than the -black-haired, buccaneer-like, but dignified mate of the _Sapphire_. It -may be that her conscience was less disturbed than her husband's. Of -course, his life had no secret places for her; but a woman's conscience -is somewhat more resourceful in finding good and valid excuses. It -depends greatly on the person that needs them, too. - -They had agreed that she should not come down to the Dock to see him -off. "I wonder you care to look at me at all," said the sensitive man. -And she did not laugh. - -Bunter was very sensitive; he left her rather brusquely at the last. -He got on board in good time, and produced the usual impression on the -mud-pilot in the broken-down straw hat who took the _Sapphire_ out of -dock. The river-man was very polite to the dignified, striking-looking -chief mate. "The five-inch manilla for the check-rope, Mr.--Bunter, -thank you--Mr. Bunter, please." The sea-pilot who left the "gem of -ships" heading comfortably down Channel off Dover told some of his -friends that, this voyage, the _Sapphire_ had for chief mate a man -who seemed a jolly sight too good for old Johns. "Bunter's his name. -I wonder where he's sprung from? Never seen him before in any ship -I piloted in or out all these years. He's the sort of man you don't -forget. You couldn't. A thorough good sailor, too. And won't old Johns -just worry his head off! Unless the old fool should take fright at -him--for he does not seem the sort of man that would let himself be put -upon without letting you know what he thinks of you. And that's exactly -what old Johns would be more afraid of than of anything else." - -As this is really meant to be the record of a spiritualistic experience -which came, if not precisely to Captain Johns himself, at any rate to -his ship, there is no use in recording the other events of the passage -out. It was an ordinary passage, the crew was an ordinary crew, the -weather was of the usual kind. The black mate's quiet, sedate method of -going to work had given a sober tone to the life of the ship. Even in -gales of wind everything went on quietly somehow. - -There was only one severe blow which made things fairly lively for all -hands for full four-and-twenty hours. That was off the coast of Africa, -after passing the Cape of Good Hope. At the very height of it several -heavy seas were shipped with no serious results, but there was a -considerable smashing of breakable objects in the pantry and in the -staterooms. Mr. Bunter, who was so greatly respected on board, found -himself treated scurvily by the Southern Ocean, which, bursting open the -door of his room like a ruffianly burglar, carried off several useful -things, and made all the others extremely wet. - -Later, on the same day, the Southern Ocean caused the _Sapphire_ to -lurch over in such an unrestrained fashion that the two drawers fitted -under Mr. Bunter's sleeping-berth flew out altogether, spilling all -their contents. They ought, of course, to have been locked, and Mr. -Bunter had only to thank himself for what had happened. He ought to have -turned the key on each before going out on deck. - -His consternation was very great. The steward, who was paddling about -all the time with swabs, trying to dry out the flooded cuddy, heard him -exclaim "Hallo!" in a startled and dismayed tone. In the midst of his -work the steward felt a sympathetic concern for the mate's distress. - -Captain Johns was secretly glad when he heard of the damage. He was -indeed afraid of his chief mate, as the sea-pilot had ventured to -foretell, and afraid of him for the very reason the sea-pilot had put -forward as likely. - -Captain Johns, therefore, would have liked very much to hold that -black mate of his at his mercy in some way or other. But the man was -irreproachable, as near absolute perfection as could be. And Captain -Johns was much annoyed, and at the same time congratulated himself on -his chief officer's efficiency. - -He made a great show of living sociably with him, on the principle that -the more friendly you are with a man the more easily you may catch him -tripping; and also for the reason that he wanted to have somebody who -would listen to his stories of manifestations, apparitions, ghosts, and -all the rest of the imbecile spook-lore. He had it all at his fingers' -ends; and he spun those ghostly yarns in a persistent, colourless voice, -giving them a futile turn peculiarly his own. - -"I like to converse with my officers," he used to say. "There are -masters that hardly ever open their mouths from beginning to end of a -passage for fear of losing their dignity. What's that, after all--this -bit of position a man holds!" - -His sociability was most to be dreaded in the second dog-watch, because -he was one of those men who grow lively towards the evening, and the -officer on duty was unable then to find excuses for leaving the poop. -Captain Johns would pop up the companion suddenly, and, sidling up in -his creeping way to poor Bunter, as he walked up and down, would fire -into him some spiritualistic proposition, such as: - -"Spirits, male and female, show a good deal of refinement in a general -way, don't they?" - -To which Bunter, holding his black-whiskered head high, would mutter: - -"I don't know." - -"Ah! that's because you don't want to. You are the most obstinate, -prejudiced man I've ever met, Mr. Bunter. I told you you may have any -book out of my bookcase. You may just go into my stateroom and help -yourself to any volume." - -And if Bunter protested that he was too tired in his watches below to -spare any time for reading, Captain Johns would smile nastily behind -his back, and remark that of course some people needed more sleep than -others to keep themselves fit for their work. If Mr. Bunter was afraid -of not keeping properly awake when on duty at night, that was another -matter. - -"But I think you borrowed a novel to read from the second mate the other -day--a trashy pack of lies," Captain Johns sighed. "I am afraid you are -not a spiritually minded man, Mr. Bunter. That's what's the matter." - -Sometimes he would appear on deck in the middle of the night, looking -very grotesque and bandy-legged in his sleeping suit. At that sight the -persecuted Bunter would wring his hands stealthily, and break out into -moisture all over his forehead. After standing sleepily by the binnacle, -scratching himself in an unpleasant manner, Captain Johns was sure to -start on some aspect or other of his only topic. - -He would, for instance, discourse on the improvement of morality to be -expected from the establishment of general and close intercourse with -the spirits of the departed. The spirits, Captain Johns thought, would -consent to associate familiarly with the living if it were not for the -unbelief of the great mass of mankind. He himself would not care to -have anything to do with a crowd that would not believe in his--Captain -Johns'--existence. Then why should a spirit? This was asking too much. - -He went on breathing hard by the binnacle and trying to reach round his -shoulder-blades; then, with a thick, drowsy severity, declared: - -"Incredulity, sir, is the evil of the age!" - -It rejected the evidence of Professor Cranks and of the journalist chap. -It resisted the production of photographs. - -For Captain Johns believed firmly that certain spirits had been -photographed. He had read something of it in the papers. And the idea of -it having been done had got a tremendous hold on him, because his mind -was not critical. Bunter said afterwards that nothing could be more -weird than this little man, swathed in a sleeping suit three sizes -too large for him, shuffling with excitement in the moonlight near the -wheel, and shaking his fist at the serene sea. - -"Photographs! photographs!" he would repeat, in a voice as creaky as a -rusty hinge. - -The very helmsman just behind him got uneasy at that performance, not -being capable of understanding exactly what the "old man was kicking up -a row with the mate about." - -Then Johns, after calming down a bit, would begin again. - -"The sensitised plate can't lie. No, sir." - -Nothing could be more funny than this ridiculous little man's -conviction--his dogmatic tone. Bunter would go on swinging up and down -the poop like a deliberate, dignified pendulum. He said not a word. But -the poor fellow had not a trifle on his conscience, as you know; and to -have imbecile ghosts rammed down his throat like this on top of his own -worry nearly drove him crazy. He knew that on many occasions he was -on the verge of lunacy, because he could not help indulging in -half-delirious visions of Captain Johns being picked up by the scruff of -the neck and dropped over the taffrail into the ship's wake--the sort -of thing no sane sailorman would think of doing to a cat or any other -animal, anyhow. He imagined him bobbing up--a tiny black speck left far -astern on the moonlit ocean. - -I don't think that even at the worst moments Bunter really desired to -drown Captain Johns. I fancy that all his disordered imagination longed -for was merely to stop the ghostly inanity of the skipper's talk. - -But, all the same, it was a dangerous form of self-indulgence. Just -picture to yourself that ship in the Indian Ocean, on a clear, tropical -night, with her sails full and still, the watch on deck stowed away out -of sight; and on her poop, flooded with moonlight, the stately black -mate walking up and down with measured, dignified steps, preserving -an awful silence, and that grotesquely mean little figure in striped -flannelette alternately creaking and droning of "personal intercourse -beyond the grave." - -It makes me creepy all over to think of. And sometimes the folly of -Captain Johns would appear clothed in a sort of weird utilitarianism. -How useful it would be if the spirits of the departed could be induced -to take a practical interest in the affairs of the living! What a help, -say, to the police, for instance, in the detection of crime! The number -of murders, at any rate, would be considerably reduced, he guessed -with an air of great sagacity. Then he would give way to grotesque -discouragement. - -Where was the use of trying to communicate with people that had no -faith, and more likely than not would scorn the offered information? -Spirits had their feelings. They were _all_ feelings in a way. But -he was surprised at the forbearance shown towards murderers by their -victims. That was the sort of apparition that no guilty man would dare -to pooh-pooh. And perhaps the undiscovered murderers--whether believing -or not--were haunted. They wouldn't be likely to boast about it, would -they? - -"For myself," he pursued, in a sort of vindictive, malevolent whine, "if -anybody murdered me I would not let him forget it. I would wither him -up--I would terrify him to death." - -The idea of his skipper's ghost terrifying anyone was so ludicrous -that the black mate, little disposed to mirth as he was, could not help -giving vent to a weary laugh. - -And this laugh, the only acknowledgment of a long and earnest discourse, -offended Captain Johns. - -"What's there to laugh at in this conceited manner, Mr. Bunter?" he -snarled. "Supernatural visitations have terrified better men than you. -Don't you allow me enough soul to make a ghost of?" - -I think it was the nasty tone that caused Bunter to stop short and turn -about. - -"I shouldn't wonder," went on the angry fanatic of spiritism, "if you -weren't one of them people that take no more account of a man than if -he were a beast. You would be capable, I don't doubt, to deny the -possession of an immortal soul to your own father." - -And then Bunter, being bored beyond endurance, and also exasperated by -the private worry, lost his self-possession. - -He walked up suddenly to Captain Johns, and, stooping a little to look -close into his face, said, in a low, even tone: - -"You don't know what a man like me is capable of." - -Captain Johns threw his head back, but was too astonished to budge. -Bunter resumed his walk; and for a long time his measured footsteps and -the low wash of the water alongside were the only sounds which troubled -the silence brooding over the great waters. Then Captain Johns cleared -his throat uneasily, and, after sidling away towards the companion for -greater safety, plucked up enough courage to retreat under an act of -authority: - -"Raise the starboard clew of the mainsail, and lay the yards dead -square, Mr. Bunter. Don't you see the wind is nearly right aft?" - -Bunter at once answered "Ay, ay, sir," though there was not the -slightest necessity to touch the yards, and the wind was well out on -the quarter. While he was executing the order Captain Johns hung on the -companion-steps, growling to himself: "Walk this poop like an admiral -and don't even notice when the yards want trimming!"--loud enough for -the helmsman to overhear. Then he sank slowly backwards out of the man's -sight; and when he reached the bottom of the stairs he stood still and -thought. - -"He's an awful ruffian, with all his gentlemanly airs. No more gentleman -mates for me." - -Two nights afterwards he was slumbering peacefully in his berth, when a -heavy thumping just above his head (a well-understood signal that he was -wanted on deck) made him leap out of bed, broad awake in a moment. - -"What's up?" he muttered, running out barefooted. On passing through the -cabin he glanced at the clock. It was the middle watch. "What on earth -can the mate want me for?" he thought. - -Bolting out of the companion, he found a clear, dewy moonlit night and a -strong, steady breeze. He looked around wildly. There was no one on the -poop except the helmsman, who addressed him at once. - -"It was me, sir. I let go the wheel for a second to stamp over your -head. I am afraid there's something wrong with the mate." - -"Where's he got to?" asked the captain sharply. - -The man, who was obviously nervous, said: - -"The last I saw of him was as he-fell down the port poop-ladder." - -"Fell down the poop-ladder! What did he do that for? What made him?" - -"I don't know, sir. He was walking the port side. Then just as he turned -towards me to come aft..." - -"You saw him?" interrupted the captain. - -"I did. I was looking at him. And I heard the crash, too--something -awful. Like the mainmast going overboard. It was as if something had -struck him." - -Captain Johns became very uneasy and alarmed. "Come," he said sharply. -"Did anybody strike him? What did you see?" - -"Nothing, sir, so help me! There was nothing to see. He just gave -a little sort of hallo! threw his hands before him, and over he -went--crash. I couldn't hear anything more, so I just let go the wheel -for a second to call you up." - -"You're scared!" said Captain Johns. "I am, sir, straight!" - -Captain Johns stared at him. The silence of his ship driving on her way -seemed to contain a danger--a mystery. He was reluctant to go and look -for his mate himself, in the shadows of the main-deck, so quiet, so -still. - -All he did was to advance to the break of the poop, and call for the -watch. As the sleepy men came trooping aft, he shouted to them fiercely: - -"Look at the foot of the port poop-ladder, some of you! See the mate -lying there?" - -Their startled exclamations told him immediately that they did see him. -Somebody even screeched out emotionally: "He's dead!" - -Mr. Bunter was laid in his bunk and when the lamp in his room was lit -he looked indeed as if he were dead, but it was obvious also that he was -breathing yet. The steward had been roused out, the second mate called -and sent on deck to look after the ship, and for an hour or so Captain -Johns devoted himself silently to the restoring of consciousness. Mr. -Bunter at last opened his eyes, but he could not speak. He was dazed and -inert. The steward bandaged a nasty scalp-wound while Captain Johns -held an additional light. They had to cut away a lot of Mr. Bunter's -jet-black hair to make a good dressing. This done, and after gazing for -a while at their patient, the two left the cabin. - -"A rum go, this, steward," said Captain Johns in the passage. - -"Yessir." - -"A sober man that's right in his head does not fall down a poop-ladder -like a sack of potatoes. The ship's as steady as a church." - -"Yessir. Fit of some kind, I shouldn't wonder." - -"Well, I should. He doesn't look as if he were subject to fits and -giddiness. Why, the man's in the prime of life. I wouldn't have another -kind of mate--not if I knew it. You don't think he has a private store -of liquor, do you, eh? He seemed to me a bit strange in his manner -several times lately. Off his feed, too, a bit, I noticed." - -"Well, sir, if he ever had a bottle or two of grog in his cabin, that -must have gone a long time ago. I saw him throw some broken glass -overboard after the last gale we had; but that didn't amount to -anything. Anyway, sir, you couldn't call Mr. Bunter a drinking man." - -"No," conceded the captain, reflectively. And the steward, locking -the pantry door, tried to escape out of the passage, thinking he could -manage to snatch another hour of sleep before it was time for him to -turn out for the day. - -Captain Johns shook his head. - -"There's some mystery there." - -"There's special Providence that he didn't crack his head like an -eggshell on the quarter-deck mooring-bits, sir. The men tell me he -couldn't have missed them by more than an inch." - -And the steward vanished skilfully. - -Captain Johns spent the rest of the night and the whole of the ensuing -day between his own room and that of the mate. - -In his own room he sat with his open hands reposing on his knees, his -lips pursed up, and the horizontal furrows on his forehead marked -very heavily. Now and then raising his arm by a slow, as if cautious -movement, he scratched lightly the top of his bald head. In the mate's -room he stood for long periods of time with his hand to his lips, gazing -at the half-conscious man. - -For three days Mr. Bunter did not say a single word. He looked at people -sensibly enough but did not seem to be able to hear any questions put -to him. They cut off some more of his hair and swathed his head in -wet cloths. He took some nourishment, and was made as comfortable as -possible. At dinner on the third day the second mate remarked to the -captain, in connection with the affair: - -"These half-round brass plates on the steps of the poop-ladders are -beastly dangerous things!" - -"Are they?" retorted Captain Johns, sourly. "It takes more than a brass -plate to account for an able-bodied man crashing down in this fashion -like a felled ox." - -The second mate was impressed by that view. There was something in that, -he thought. - -"And the weather fine, everything dry, and the ship going along as -steady as a church!" pursued Captain Johns, gruffly. - -As Captain Johns continued to look extremely sour, the second mate did -not open his lips any more during the dinner. Captain Johns was annoyed -and hurt by an innocent remark, because the fitting of the aforesaid -brass plates had been done at his suggestion only the voyage before, in -order to smarten up the appearance of the poop-ladders. - -On the fourth day Mr. Bunter looked decidedly better; very languid yet, -of course, but he heard and understood what was said to him, and even -could say a few words in a feeble voice. - -Captain Johns, coming in, contemplated him attentively, without much -visible sympathy. - -"Well, can you give us your account of this accident, Mr. Bunter?" - -Bunter moved slightly his bandaged head, and fixed his cold blue stare -on Captain Johns' face, as if taking stock and appraising the value of -every feature; the perplexed forehead, the credulous eyes, the inane -droop of the mouth. And he gazed so long that Captain Johns grew -restive, and looked over his shoulder at the door. - -"No accident," breathed out Bunter, in a peculiar tone. - -"You don't mean to say you've got the falling sickness," said Captain -Johns. "How would you call it signing as chief mate of a clipper ship -with a thing like that on you?" - -Bunter answered him only by a sinister look. The skipper shuffled his -feet a little. - -"Well, what made you have that tumble, then?" - -Bunter raised himself a little, and, looking straight into Captain -Johns' eyes said, in a very distinct whisper: - -"You--were--right!" - -He fell back and closed his eyes. Not a word more could Captain Johns -get out of him; and, the steward coming into the cabin, the skipper -withdrew. - -But that very night, unobserved, Captain Johns, opening the door -cautiously, entered again the mate's cabin. He could wait no longer. The -suppressed eagerness, the excitement expressed in all his mean, creeping -little person, did not escape the chief mate, who was lying awake, -looking frightfully pulled down and perfectly impassive. - -"You are coming to gloat over me, I suppose," said Bunter without -moving, and yet making a palpable hit. - -"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Captain Johns with a start, and assuming a -sobered demeanour. "There's a thing to say!" - -"Well, gloat, then! You and your ghosts, you've managed to get over a -live man." - -This was said by Bunter without stirring, in a low voice, and with not -much expression. - -"Do you mean to say," inquired Captain Johns, in awe-struck whisper, -"that you had a supernatural experience that night? You saw an -apparition, then, on board my ship?" - -Reluctance, shame, disgust, would have been visible on poor Bunter's -countenance if the great part of it had not been swathed up in -cotton-wool and bandages. His ebony eyebrows, more sinister than ever -amongst all that lot of white linen, came together in a frown as he made -a mighty effort to say: - -"Yes, I have seen." - -The wretchedness in his eyes would have awakened the compassion of -any other man than Captain Johns. But Captain Johns was all agog with -triumphant excitement. He was just a little bit frightened, too. He -looked at that unbelieving scoffer laid low, and did not even dimly -guess at his profound, humiliating distress. He was not generally -capable of taking much part in the anguish of his fellow-creatures. This -time, moreover, he was excessively anxious to know what had happened. -Fixing his credulous eyes on the bandaged head, he asked, trembling -slightly: - -"And did it--did it knock you down?" - -"Come! am I the sort of man to be knocked down by a ghost?" protested -Bunter in a little stronger tone. "Don't you remember what you said -yourself the other night? Better men than me------Ha! you'll have to -look a long time before you find a better man for a mate of your ship." - -Captain Johns pointed a solemn finger at Bunter's bedplace. - -"You've been terrified," he said. "That's what's the matter. You've been -terrified. Why, even the man at the wheel was scared, though he couldn't -see anything. He _felt_ the supernatural. You are punished for your -incredulity, Mr. Bunter. You were terrified." - -"And suppose I was," said Bunter. "Do you know what I had seen? Can you -conceive the sort of ghost that would haunt a man like me? Do you think -it was a ladyish, afternoon call, another-cup-of-tea-please apparition -that visits your Professor Cranks and that journalist chap you are -always talking about? No; I can't tell you what it was like. Every man -has his own ghosts. You couldn't conceive..." - -Bunter stopped, out of breath; and Captain Johns remarked, with the glow -of inward satisfaction reflected in his tone: - -"I've always thought you were the sort of man that was ready for -anything; from pitch-and-toss to wilful murder, as the saying goes. -Well, well! So you were terrified." - -"I stepped back," said Bunter, curtly. "I don't remember anything else." - -"The man at the wheel told me you went backwards as if something had hit -you." - -"It was a sort of inward blow," explained Bunter. "Something too deep -for you, Captain Johns, to understand. Your life and mine haven't been -the same. Aren't you satisfied to see me converted?" - -"And you can't tell me any more?" asked Captain Johns, anxiously. - -"No, I can't. I wouldn't. It would be no use if I did. That sort of -experience must be gone through. Say I am being punished. Well, I take -my punishment, but talk of it I won't." - -"Very well," said Captain Johns; "you won't. But, mind, I can draw my -own conclusions from that." - -"Draw what you like; but be careful what you say, sir. You don't terrify -me. _You_ aren't a ghost." - -"One word. Has it any connection with what you said to me on that last -night, when we had a talk together on spiritualism?" - -Bunter looked weary and puzzled. - -"What did I say?" - -"You told me that I couldn't know what a man like you was capable of." - -"Yes, yes. Enough!" - -"Very good. I am fixed, then," remarked Captain Johns. "All I say is -that I am jolly glad not to be you, though I would have given almost -anything for the privilege of personal communication with the world of -spirits. Yes, sir, but not in that way." - -Poor Bunter moaned pitifully. - -"It has made me feel twenty years older." - -Captain Johns retired quietly. He was delighted to observe this -overbearing ruffian humbled to the dust by the moralizing agency of the -spirits. The whole occurrence was a source of pride and gratification; -and he began to feel a sort of regard for his chief mate. - -It is true that in further interviews Bunter showed himself very -mild and deferential. He seemed to cling to his captain for spiritual -protection. He used to send for him, and say, "I feel so nervous," and -Captain Johns would stay patiently for hours in the hot little cabin, -and feel proud of the call. - -For Mr. Bunter was ill, and could not leave his berth for a good many -days. He became a convinced spiritualist, not enthusiastically--that -could hardly have been expected from him--but in a grim, unshakable way. -He could not be called exactly friendly to the disembodied inhabitants -of our globe, as Captain Johns was. But he was now a firm, if gloomy, -recruit of spiritualism. - -One afternoon, as the ship was already well to the north in the Gulf -of Bengal, the steward knocked at the door of the captain's cabin, and -said, without opening it: - -"The mate asks if you could spare him a moment, sir. He seems to be in a -state in there." - -Captain Johns jumped up from the couch at once. - -"Yes. Tell him I am coming." - -He thought: Could it be possible there had been another spiritual -manifestation--in the daytime, too! - -He revelled in the hope. It was not exactly that, however. Still, -Bunter, whom he saw sitting collapsed in a chair--he had been up -for several days, but not on deck as yet--poor Bunter had something -startling enough to communicate. His hands covered his face. His legs -were stretched straight out, dismally. - -"What's the news now?" croaked Captain Johns, not unkindly, because in -truth it always pleased him to see Bunter--as he expressed it--tamed. - -"News!" exclaimed the crushed sceptic through his hands. "Ay, news -enough, Captain Johns. Who will be able to deny the awfulness, the -genuineness? Another man would have dropped dead. You want to know what -I had seen. All I can tell you is that since I've seen it my hair is -turning white." - -Bunter detached his hands from his face, and they hung on each side of -his chair as if dead. He looked broken in the dusky cabin. - -"You don't say!" stammered out Captain Johns. "Turned white! Hold on a -bit! I'll light the lamp!" - -When the lamp was lit, the startling phenomenon could be seen plainly -enough. As if the dread, the horror, the anguish of the supernatural -were being exhaled through the pores of his skin, a sort of silvery mist -seemed to cling to the cheeks and the head of the mate. His short beard, -his cropped hair, were growing, not black, but gray--almost white. - -When Mr. Bunter, thin-faced and shaky, came on deck for duty, he -was clean-shaven, and his head was white. The hands were awe-struck. -"Another man," they whispered to each other. It was generally and -mysteriously agreed that the mate had "seen something," with the -exception of the man at the wheel at the time, who maintained that the -mate was "struck by something." - -This distinction hardly amounted to a difference. On the other hand, -everybody admitted that, after he picked up his strength a bit, he -seemed even smarter in his movements than before. - -One day in Calcutta, Captain Johns, pointing out to a visitor his -white-headed chief mate standing by the main-hatch, was heard to say -oracularly: - -"That man's in the prime of life." - -Of course, while Bunter was away, I called regularly on Mrs. Bunter -every Saturday, just to see whether she had any use for my services. It -was understood I would do that. She had just his half-pay to live on--it -amounted to about a pound a week. She had taken one room in a quiet -little square in the East End. - -And this was affluence to what I had heard that the couple were reduced -to for a time after Bunter had to give up the Western Ocean trade--he -used to go as mate of all sorts of hard packets after he lost his ship -and his luck together--it was affluence to that time when Bunter would -start at seven o'clock in the morning with but a glass of hot water -and a crust of dry bread. It won't stand thinking about, especially for -those who know Mrs. Bunter. I had seen something of them, too, at that -time; and it just makes me shudder to remember what that born lady had -to put up with. Enough! - -Dear Mrs. Bunter used to worry a good deal after the _Sapphire_ left -for Calcutta. She would say to me: "It must be so awful for poor -Winston"--Winston is Bunter's name--and I tried to comfort her the best -I could. Afterwards, she got some small children to teach in a family, -and was half the day with them, and the occupation was good for her. - -In the very first letter she had from Calcutta, Bunter told her he had -had a fall down the poop-ladder, and cut his head, but no bones broken, -thank God. That was all. Of course, she had other letters from him, but -that vagabond Bunter never gave me a scratch of the pen the solid eleven -months. I supposed, naturally, that everything was going on all right. -Who could imagine what was happening? - -Then one day dear Mrs. Bunter got a letter from a legal firm in the -City, advising her that her uncle was dead--her old curmudgeon of an -uncle--a retired stockbroker, a heartless, petrified antiquity that had -lasted on and on. He was nearly ninety, I believe; and if I were to meet -his venerable ghost this minute, I would try to take him by the throat -and strangle him. - -The old beast would never forgive his niece for marrying Bunter; and -years afterwards, when people made a point of letting him know that she -was in London, pretty nearly starving at forty years of age, he only -said: "Serve the little fool right!" I believe he meant her to starve. -And, lo and behold, the old cannibal died intestate, with no other -relatives but that very identical little fool. The Bunters were wealthy -people now. - -Of course, Mrs. Bunter wept as if her heart would break. In any other -woman it would have been mere hypocrisy. Naturally, too, she wanted to -cable the news to her Winston in Calcutta, but I showed her, _Gazette_ -in hand, that the ship was on the homeward-bound list for more than a -week already. So we sat down to wait, and talked meantime of dear old -Winston every day. There were just one hundred such days before the -_Sapphire_ got reported "All well" in the chops of the Channel by an -incoming mailboat. - -"I am going to Dunkirk to meet him," says she. The _Sapphire_ had a -cargo of jute for Dunkirk. Of course, I had to escort the dear lady -in the quality of her "ingenious friend." She calls me "our ingenious -friend" to this day; and I've observed some people--strangers--looking -hard at me, for the signs of the ingenuity, I suppose. - -After settling Mrs. Bunter in a good hotel in Dunkirk, I walked down to -the docks--late afternoon it was--and what was my surprise to see the -ship actually fast alongside. Either Johns or Bunter, or both, must have -been driving her hard up Channel. Anyway, she had been in since the -day before last, and her crew was already paid off. I met two of -her apprenticed boys going off home on leave with their dunnage on a -Frenchman's barrow, as happy as larks, and I asked them if the mate was -on board. - -"There he is, on the quay, looking at the moorings," says one of the -youngsters as he skipped past me. - -You may imagine the shock to my feelings when I beheld his white head. I -could only manage to tell him that his wife was at an hotel in town. -He left me at once, to go and get his hat on board. I was mightily -surprised by the smartness of his movements as he hurried up the -gangway. - -Whereas the black mate struck people as deliberate, and strangely -stately in his gait for a man in the prime of life, this white-headed -chap seemed the most wonderfully alert of old men. I don't suppose -Bunter was any quicker on his pins than before. It was the colour of the -hair that made all the difference in one's judgment. - -The same with his eyes. Those eyes, that looked at you so steely, so -fierce, and so fascinating out of a bush of a buccaneer's black hair, -now had an innocent almost boyish expression in their good-humoured -brightness under those white eyebrows. - -I led him without any delay into Mrs. Bunter's private sitting-room. -After she had dropped a tear over the late cannibal, given a hug to her -Winston, and told him that he must grow his moustache again, the dear -lady tucked her feet upon the sofa, and I got out of Bunter's way. - -He started at once to pace the room, waving his long arms. He worked -himself into a regular frenzy, and tore Johns limb from limb many times -over that evening. - -"Fell down? Of course I fell down, by slipping backwards on that fool's -patent brass plates. 'Pon my word, I had been walking that poop in -charge of the ship, and I didn't know whether I was in the Indian Ocean -or in the moon. I was crazy. My head spun round and round with sheer -worry. I had made my last application of your chemist's wonderful -stuff." (This to me.) "All the store of bottles you gave me got smashed -when those drawers fell out in the last gale. I had been getting some -dry things to change, when I heard the cry: 'All hands on deck!' and -made one jump of it, without even pushing them in properly. Ass! When I -came back and saw the broken glass and the mess, I felt ready to faint. - -"No; look here--deception is bad; but not to be able to keep it up after -one has been forced into it. You know that since I've been squeezed -out of the Western Ocean packets by younger men, just on account of my -grizzled muzzle--you know how much chance I had to ever get a ship. And -not a soul to turn to. We have been a lonely couple, we two--she threw -away everything for me--and to see her want a piece of dry bread------" - -He banged with his fist fit to split the Frenchman's table in two. - -"I would have turned a sanguinary pirate for her, let alone cheating -my way into a berth by dyeing my hair. So when you came to me with your -chemist's wonderful stuff------" - -He checked himself. - -"By the way, that fellow's got a fortune when he likes to pick it up. It -is a wonderful stuff--you tell him salt water can do nothing to it. It -stays on as long as your hair will." - -"All right," I said. "Go on." - -Thereupon he went for Johns again with a fury that frightened his wife, -and made me laugh till I cried. - -"Just you try to think what it would have meant to be at the mercy of -the meanest creature that ever commanded a ship! Just fancy what a life -that crawling Johns would have led me! And I knew that in a week or so -the white hair would begin to show. And the crew. Did you ever think of -that? To be shown up as a low fraud before all hands. What a life for me -till we got to Calcutta! And once there--kicked out, of course. Half-pay -stopped. Annie here alone without a penny--starving; and I on the other -side of the earth, ditto. You see? - -"I thought of shaving twice a day. But could I shave my head, too? -No way--no way at all. Unless I dropped Johns overboard; and even -then------ - -"Do you wonder now that with all these things boiling in my head I didn't -know where I was putting down my foot that night? I just felt myself -falling--then crash, and all dark. - -"When I came to myself that bang on the head seemed to have steadied my -wits somehow. I was so sick of everything that for two days I wouldn't -speak to anyone. They thought it was a slight concussion of the brain. -Then the idea dawned upon me as I was looking at that ghost-ridden, -wretched fool. 'Ah, you love ghosts,' I thought. 'Well, you shall have -something from beyond the grave.' - -"I didn't even trouble to invent a story. I couldn't imagine a ghost -if I wanted to. I wasn't fit to lie connectedly if I had tried. I just -bulled him on to it. Do you know, he got, quite by himself, a notion -that at some time or other I had done somebody to death in some way, and -that------" - -"Oh, the horrible man!" cried Mrs. Bunter from the sofa. There was a -silence. - -"And didn't he bore my head off on the home passage!" began Bunter again -in a weary voice. "He loved me. He was proud of me. I was converted. I -had had a manifestation. Do you know what he was after? He wanted me and -him 'to make a _seance_,' in his own words, and to try to call up that -ghost (the one that had turned my hair white--the ghost of my supposed -victim), and, as he said, talk it over with him--the ghost--in a -friendly way. - -"'Or else, Bunter,' he says, 'you may get another manifestation when you -least expect it, and tumble overboard perhaps, or something. You ain't -really safe till we pacify the spirit-world in some way.' - -"Can you conceive a lunatic like that? No--say?" - -I said nothing. But Mrs. Bunter did, in a very decided tone. - -"Winston, I don't want you to go on board that ship again any more." - -"My dear," says he, "I have all my things on board yet." - -"You don't want the things. Don't go near that ship at all." - -He stood still; then, dropping his eyes with a faint smile, said slowly, -in a dreamy voice: - -"The haunted ship." - -"And your last," I added. - -We carried him off, as he stood, by the night train. He was very quiet; -but crossing the Channel, as we two had a smoke on deck, he turned to me -suddenly, and, grinding his teeth, whispered: - -"He'll never know how near he was being dropped overboard!" - -He meant Captain Johns. I said nothing. - -But Captain Johns, I understand, made a great to-do about the -disappearance of his chief mate. He set the French police scouring the -country for the body. In the end, I fancy he got word from his owners' -office to drop all this fuss--that it was all right. I don't suppose he -ever understood anything of that mysterious occurrence. - -To this day he tries at times (he's retired now, and his conversation is -not very coherent)--he tries to tell the story of a black mate he once -had, "a murderous, gentlemanly ruffian, with raven-black hair which -turned white all at once in consequence of a manifestation from beyond -the grave." An avenging apparition. What with reference to black and -white hair, to poop-ladders, and to his own feelings and views, it is -difficult to make head or tail of it. If his sister (she's very vigorous -still) should be present she cuts all this short--peremptorily: - -"Don't you mind what he says. He's got devils on the brain." - -THE END - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of Hearsay, by Joseph Conrad - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF HEARSAY *** - -***** This file should be named 17732.txt or 17732.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/7/3/17732/ - -Produced by David Widger - -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. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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