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diff --git a/25307.txt b/25307.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ae4ffa --- /dev/null +++ b/25307.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2593 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Drolls From Shadowland, by J. H. Pearce + +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: Drolls From Shadowland + +Author: J. H. Pearce + +Release Date: May 2, 2008 [EBook #25307] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DROLLS FROM SHADOWLAND *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: _The Man who could talk with the Birds_] + + + + +DROLLS + +FROM SHADOWLAND + +BY + +J. H. PEARCE + +_Author of "Esther Pentreath," "Inconsequent Lives," "Jaco Treloar," +&c._ + + NEW YORK + MACMILLAN AND CO. + 1893. + +_All rights reserved._ + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + + THE MAN WHO COINED HIS BLOOD INTO GOLD 1 + + AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY 15 + + THE MAN WHO COULD TALK WITH THE BIRDS 27 + + THE PURSUIT 39 + + A PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT 49 + + THE MAN WHO DESIRED TO BE A TREE 61 + + THE MAN WHO HAD SEEN 73 + + THE UNCHRISTENED CHILD 85 + + THE MAN WHO MET HATE 95 + + THE HAUNTED HOUSE 109 + + GIFTS AND AWARDS 119 + + FRIEND OR FOE? 133 + + THE FIELDS OF AMARANTH 145 + + THE COMEDY OF A SOUL 155 + + + + + +THE MAN WHO COINED HIS BLOOD INTO GOLD. + + +THE yoke of Poverty galled him exceedingly, and he hated his +taskmistress with a most rancorous hatred. + +As he climbed up or down the dripping ladders, descending from sollar to +sollar towards the level where he worked, he would set his teeth grimly +that he might not curse aloud--an oath underground being an invitation +to the Evil One--but in his heart the muffled curses were audible +enough. And when he was at work in the dreary level, with the darkness +lying on his shoulder like a hand, and the candles shining unsteadily +through the gloom, like little evil winking eyes, he brooded so moodily +over his bondage to Poverty, that he desired to break from it at any +cost. + +"I'd risk a lem for its weight in gowld: darned ef I wedn'!" he muttered +savagely, as he dug at the stubborn rock with his pick. + +He could hear the sounds of blasting in other levels--the explosions +travelling to him in a muffled boom--and above him, for he was working +beneath the bed of the ocean, he could faintly distinguish the grinding +of the sea as the huge waves wallowed and roared across the beach. + +"I'm sick to death o' this here life," he grumbled; "I'd give a haand or +a' eye for a pot o' suvrins. Iss, I'd risk more than that," he added +darkly: letting the words ooze out as if under his breath. + +At that moment his pick detached a piece of rock which came crashing +down on the floor of the level, splintering into great jagged fragments +as it fell. + +He started back with an exclamation of uncontrollable surprise. The +falling rock had disclosed the interior of a cavern whose outlines were +lost in impenetrable gloom, but which here and there in a vague fashion, +as it caught the light of the candle flickering in his hat, seemed to +sparkle as if its walls were crusted with silver. + +"Lor' Jimmeny, this es bra' an' queer!" he gasped. + +As he leaned on his pick, peering into the cavern with covetous eyes, +but with a wildly-leaping heart, he was aware of an odd movement among +the shadows which were elusively outlined by the light of his dip. + +It was almost as though some of them had an independent individuality, +and could have detached themselves from their roots if they wished. + +It was certain a squat, hump-backed blotch, that was sprawling blackly +beside a misshapen block, was either wriggling on the floor as if trying +to stand upright . . . or else there was something wrong with his eyes. + +He stared at the wavering gloom in the cavern, with its quaint, angular +splashes of glister, where heads of quartz and patches of mundic caught +the light from the unsteady flame of the candle, and presently he was +_certain_ that the shadows were alive. + +Most of all he was sure that the little hump-backed oddity had risen to +its feet and was a veritable creature: an actual uncouth, shambling +grotesque, instead of a mere flat blotch of shadow. + +Up waddled the little hump-back to the hole in the wall where Joel stood +staring, leaning on his pick. + +"What can I do for'ee, friend?" he asked huskily: his voice sounding +faint, hoarse, and muffled, as if it were coming from an immense +distance, or as if the squat little frame had merely borrowed it for the +nonce. + +Joel stared at the speaker, with his lower jaw dropping. + +"What can I do for'ee, friend?" asked the hump-back; peering at the +grimy, half-naked miner, with his little ferrety eyes glowing +luminously. + +Joel moistened his lips with his tongue before he answered. "Nawthin', +plaise, sir," he gasped out, quakingly. + +"Nonsense, my man!" said the hump-back pleasantly, rubbing his hands +cheerfully together as he spoke. And Joel noticed that the fingers, +though long and skinny--almost wrinkled and lean enough, in fact, to +pass for claws--were adorned with several sparkling rings. "Nonsense, my +man! I'm your friend--if you'll let me be. O never mind my hump, if it's +that that's frightening you, I got that through a fall a long while +ago," and the lean brown face puckered into a smile. "Come! In what way +can I oblige'ee, friend? I can grant you any wish you like. Say the +word--and it's done! Just think what you could do if you had heaps of +money, now--piles of suvrins in that owld chest in your bedroom, +instead o' they paltry two-an'-twenty suvrins which you now got heeded +away in the skibbet." + +Joel stared at the speaker with distended eyes: the great beads of +perspiration gathering on his forehead. + +"How ded'ee come to knaw they was there?" he asked. + +"I knaw more than that," said the hump-back, laughing. "I could tell'ee +a thing or two, b'leeve, if I wanted to. I knaw tin,[A] cumraade, as +well as the next." And with that he began to chuckle to himself. + +"Wedn'ee like they two-an'-twenty suvrins in the skibbet made a +hunderd-an'-twenty?" asked the hump-back insinuatingly. + +"Iss, by Gosh, I should!" said Joel. + +"Then gi'me your haand on it, cumraade; an' you shall have 'em!" + +"Here goes, then!" said Joel, thrusting out his hand. + +The hump-back seized the proffered hand in an instant, covering the +grimy fingers with his own lean claws. + +"Oh, le'go! _le'go!_" shouted Joel. + +The hump-back grinned; his black eyes glittering. + +"I waan't be niggardly to'ee, cumraade," said he. "Every drop o' blood +you choose to shed for the purpose shall turn into a golden suvrin +for'ee--there!" + +"Darn'ee! thee ben an' run thy nails in me--see!" + +And Joel shewed a drop of blood oozing from his wrist. + +"Try the charm, man! Wish! Hold un out, an' say, _Wan_!" + +Joel held out his punctured wrist mechanically. + +"Wan!" + +There was a sudden gleam--and down dropped a sovereign: a bright gold +coin that rang sharply as it fell. + +"Try agen!" said the hump-back, grinning delightedly. + +Joel stooped first to pick up the coin, and bit it eagerly. + +"Ay, good Gosh! 'tes gowld, sure 'nuff!" + +"Try agen!" said the hump-back "Make up a pile!" + +Joel held out his wrist and repeated the formula. + +"Wan!" + +And another coin clinked at his feet. + +"I needn' wait no longer, s'pose?" said the hump-back. + +"Wan!" cried Joel. And a third coin dropped. + +He leaned on his pick and kept coining his blood eagerly, till presently +there was quite a little pile at his feet. + +The hump-back watched him intently for a time: but Joel appeared to be +oblivious of his presence; and the squat little figure stealthily +disappeared. + +The falling coins kept chiming melodiously, till presently the great +stalwart miner had to lean against the wall of the level to support +himself. So tired as he was, he had never felt before. But give over his +task he either could not, or would not. The chink of the gold-pieces he +must hear if he died for it. He looked down at them greedily. "Wan! . . . +Wan! . . . Wan! . . ." + +Presently he tottered, and fell over on his heap. + +At that same moment the halting little hump-back stole out from the +shadows immediately behind him, and leaned over Joel, rubbing his hands +gleefully. + +"I must catch his soul," said the little black man. + +And with that he turned Joel's head round sharply, and held his hand to +the dying man's mouth. + +Just then there fluttered up to Joel's lips a tiny yellow flame, which, +for some reason or other, seemed as agitated as if it had a human +consciousness. One might almost have imagined it perceived the little +hump-back, and knew full well who and what he was. + +But there on Joel's lips the flame hung quivering. And now a deeper +shadow fell upon his face. + +Surely the tiny thing shuddered with horror as the hump-back's black +paws closed upon it! + +But, in any case, it now was safely prisoned. And the little black man +laughed long and loudly. + +"Not so bad a bargain after all!" chuckled he. + +FOOTNOTE: + +[A] To "_knaw tin_" is among the miners of Cornwall a sign of, and a +colloquial euphemism for, _cleverness_. + + + + +AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY. + + +THE performance was over: the curtain had descended and the spectators +had dispersed. + +There had been a slight crush at the doors of the theatre, and what with +the abrupt change from the pleasant warmth and light of the interior to +the sharp chill of the night outside, Preston shivered, and a sudden +weakness smote him at the joints. + +The crowd on the pavement in front of the theatre melted away with +unexampled rapidity, in fact, seemed almost to waver and disappear as +if the _mise en scene_ had changed in some inexplicable way. + +A hansom drove up, and Preston stepped into it heavily, glancing +drowsily askance at the driver as he did so. + +Seated up there, barely visible in the gloom, the driver had an almost +grisly aspect, humped with waterproof capes, and with such a lean, white +face. Preston, as he glanced at him, shivered again. + +The trap-door above him opened softly, and the colourless face peered +down at him curiously. + +"Where to, sir?" asked the hollow voice. + +Preston leaned back wearily. "Home," he replied. + +It did not strike him as anything strange or unusual, that the driver +asked no questions but drove off without a word. He was very weary, and +he wanted to rest. + +The sleepless hum of the city was abidingly in his ears, and the lamps +that dotted the misty pavements stared at him blinkingly all along the +route. The tall black buildings rose up grimly into the night; the faces +that flitted to and fro along the pavements, kept ever sliding past him, +melting into the darkness; and the cabs and 'buses, still astir in the +streets, had a ghostly air as they vanished in the gloom. + +Preston lay back, weary in every joint, a drowsy numbness settling on +his pulse. He had faith in his driver: he would bring him safely home. + +Presently they were at one of the wharves beside the river: Preston +could hear the gurgle of the water around the piles. + +Not this way had he ever before gone homeward. He looked out musingly on +the swift, black stream. + +"Just in time: we can go down with the tide," said a voice. + +Preston would have uttered some protest, but this sluggishness +overpowered him: it was as if he could neither lift hand nor foot. The +inertia of indifference had penetrated into his bones. + +Presently he was aware that he had entered a barge that lay close +against the wharf, heaving on the tide. And, as if it were all a piece +of the play, the lean old driver, with his dead-white face, had the oars +in his hands and stood quietly facing him, guiding the dark craft down +the stream. + +The panorama of the river-bank kept changing and shifting in the most +inexplicable manner, and Preston was aware of a crowd of pictures ever +coming and going before his eyes: as if some subtle magician, standing +behind his shoulder, were projecting for him, on the huge black screen +of night, the most marvellous display of memories he had ever +contemplated. For they were all memories, or blends of memories, that +now rose here on the horizon of his consciousness. There was nothing new +in essentials presented to him: but the grouping was occasionally novel +to a fault. + +The dear old home--the dear old folks! Green hills, with the little +white-washed cottage in a dimple of them, and in the foreground the +wind-fretted plain of the sea. The boyish games--marbles and +hoop-trundling--and the coming home at dusk to the red-lighted kitchen, +where the mother had the tea ready on the table and the sisters sat at +their knitting by the fire. + +The dear, dear mother! how his pulse yearned towards her! there were +tears in his eyes as he thought of her now. Yet, all the same, the quiet +of his pulse was profound. + +And there was the familiar scenery of his daily life: the ink-stained +desks, the brass rails for the books, the ledgers and bank-books, and +the files against the walls; and the faces of his fellow-clerks (even +the office boy) depicted here before him to the very life. + +The wind across the waters blew chilly in his face: he shivered, a +numbness settling in his limbs. + +His sweet young wife, so loving and gentle--how shamefully he had +neglected her, seeking his own pleasure selfishly--there she sat in the +familiar chair by the fireside with dear little Daisy dancing on her +knee. What a quiet, restful interior it was! He wondered: would they +miss him much if he were dead? . . . Above all, would little Daisy +understand what it meant when some one whispered to her "_favee is +dead_"? + +The wavering shadows seemed to thicken around the boat. And the figure +at the oars--how lean and white it was: and yet it seemed a good kind of +fellow, too, he thought. Preston watched it musingly as the stream bore +them onward: the rushing of the water almost lulling him to sleep. + +Were they sweeping outward, then, to the unknown sea? + +It was an unexpected journey. . . . And he had asked to be taken _home_! + +Presently the air grew full of shapes: shadowy shapes with mournful +faces; shapes that hinted secrets, with threatenings in their eyes. + +If a man's sins, now, should take to themselves bodies, would it not be +in some such guise as this they would front and affright him at dead of +night? + +Preston shivered, sitting there like a mere numb lump. + +How much of his wrong-doing is forgiven to a man--and how much +remembered against him in the reckoning? + +How awful this gruesome isolation was becoming! + +Was it thus a man went drifting up to God? + +The figure at the oars was crooning softly. It was like the lullaby his +mother used to sing to him when he was a child. + +There was a breath of freer air--humanity lay behind them--they were +alone with Nature on the vast, dim sea. + +The numbness crept to the roots of his being. He had no hands to lift; +he had no feet to move. His heart grew sluggish: there was a numbness in +his brain. + +Death stood upright now in the bow before him: and in the east he was +aware of a widening breadth of grey. + +Would the blackness freshen into perfect day for him . . . or would the +night lie hopelessly on him for ever? . . . + +The figure drew near--and laid its hand across his eyes. . . . + + * * * * * + +"Thrown out of the hansom, and the wheels went over him, sir. He was +dead in less than five minutes, I should think." + +"Cover his face . . . and break it gently to his wife." + + + + +THE MAN WHO COULD TALK WITH THE BIRDS. + +A TALE TOLD BY THE FIRESIDE. + + +WANCE upon a time there was a youngster in Zennor who was all'ys +geekin'[B] into matters that warn't no use in the world. Some do say 'a +was cliver, too, weth it all, an' cut out that there mermaid in the +church[C] what the folks do come from miles round to see. Anyway, 'a +warn't like 'es brawthers an' sesters, an' 'es folks dedn' knaw what to +maake of un, like. + +Well, wan day when 'a was wand'rin' about, down to Nancledrea or some +such plaace, 'a got 'mong lots o' trees an' bushes an' heerd the cuckoos +callin' to ayche awther, an' awther kinds o' birds what was singin' or +talkin,' an' all as knawin' as humans, like. So no rest now cud 'a git, +poor chuckle-head! for wantin' to larn to spayke weth they. + +Well, it warn't long arter that 'a was geekin' as usual round some owld +ruined crellas[D] up to Choon, when 'a seed a man weth a long white +beard settin' on wan o' the burrows[E] on the hill that are 'longside +that owld Quoit[F] up there. + +'A was a bowldish piece o' goods, was the youngster, simmin'ly, for 'a +dedn' mind the stranyer a dinyun,[G] though 'a _was_ like an owld black +witch,[H] they do say. Anyhow, the two beginned jawin' together, soon +got thick as Todgy an' Tom. An' by-an'-by the stranyer wormed out of un +how 'a was all'ys troubled in 'es mind 'cause 'a cudn' onderstaand what +the birds was sayin'. + +"I'd give anything in the world," says the bucca-davy,[I] "ef I cud +onnly larn to spayke weth they." + +"Aw, es it so, me dear," said the stranyer: "well, I'll tayche'ee to +talk to they, sure 'nuff, ef thee'll come up to that owld Quoit weth +me." + +"What must I pay'ee?" axed the youngster, bowld-like. For he'd heerd o' +cureyus bargains o' this kind, an' 'a dedn' want to risk 'es sawl. + +"Nawthin'! Nawthin', me dear!" said the stranyer. "I shall git paid +for't in a way o' me awn." + +Well, the end of it was, accordin' to the story, that the youngster +'greed to go 'long weth un: so up the two of 'em went to the Quoit. + +When they come up to un the stones seemed to oppen, an' they went inside +an' found un like a house. But that was hunderds o' years ago. The owld +Quoit now es more like a crellas, though 'a still got a bra' gayte rock +for a roof. + +Anyhow, they went in, 'cordin' to the story; an' there they lived for a +number o' years. + +But, somehow, when they was wance got in, the youngster cudn' git out +agen nohow. 'A cud geek through the cracks, an' see the country an' the +people, but the stones wedn' oppen, an' 'a cudn' git out. + +But the owld black witch keeped 'es promise to un, an' tayched un all +that 'a wanted to knaw. + +The craws that croaked on the Quoit in the sunshine, an' the sparrers +an' wagtails an' awther kinds o' birds that come flittin' round an' +cheepin' to ayche awther, the owld witch tayched un ('cordin' to the +story) to onderstaand everything any of 'em said. + +Well, at laast 'a got so cliver, ded the youngster, that there warn't no +bird but what 'a cud talk to; from the owld black raven, wha's all'ys +cryin' "_corpse!_" to the putty li'l robins what wedn' hurt a worm. + +But aw! lor' Jimmeny! warn't 'a disappointed when 'a found what 'a'd ben +so hankerin' arter warn't wuth givin' a snail's shill to knaw. + +He'd ben thinkin', 'fore 'a cud onderstaand them, that what they'd be +talkin' about to ayche awther wed be somethin' cureyus an' mighty +cliver, all sorts o' strange owld saycrets, s'pose. But 'a found, when +'a come to spayke their language, that instead o' tellin' 'bout haypes +o' treasures, an' hunted housen, an' owld queer ways, they was all the +time talkin' 'bout their mait or their nestes, an' awther silly jabber +like that. + +So 'a was mighty disappointed, an' got very law-sperrited, though 'a +dedn' like to confess it to the witch. + +An' now, thinks the youngster, he'd like to go home agen: an' shaw off +'fore the nayburs, s'pose. + +"Well, thee cust go," says the owld witch, grinnin'. + +"An' what must I pay'ee for taychin' me?" says the youngster. + +"Nawthin', sonny! Nawthin' at all!" says the witch. "I shall git me +reward in a way o' me awn." + +An' weth that 'a bust out laughin' agen. + +Well, anyway, the lad, accordin' to the story, wished un "_good-bye_," +an' trudged off home. + +But aw! poor dear! when 'a got to Zennor 'a nigh 'pon brok 'es heart +weth grief. + +He'd ben livin' all alone weth the owld black witch, an' 'a hadn' took +no note of what was passin', an' 'a thought 'a was still a youngster, +simmin'ly: 'stead o' which 'a was graw'd to an owld, owld man, weth no +more pith in 'es bones than a piskey; an' 'a cud hardly manage to crawl +to Zennor, 'a was so owld an' palchy[J], an' nigh 'pon blind. + +An', wust of all, when 'a got to Zennor everywan who knaw'd un was dead +an' gone! 'Es faather an' mawther was up in the churchyard, an' 'a +hadn' got a single friend in the world! + +So because 'a was so owld an' terrible palchy, an' hadn' got nowan to +taake no int'rest in un, through never havin' took no int'rest in nowan, +they was obliged to put un up to Maddern Union; an' there 'a lingered, +owld an' toatlish,[K] 'tell 'a died at laast a lone owld man. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[B] Prying. + +[C] The mermaid, with glass and comb and with the tail of a fish, which +is carved on a bench-end in Zennor church. + +[D] Ancient hut-dwellings. + +[E] Barrows. + +[F] Cromlech. The term is derived from the legendary belief that these +rude megalithic monuments were used by the giants when playing quoits. + +[G] A little bit, in the least. + +[H] In Cornwall _witch_ is both masculine and feminine. The _black_ +witch exercises the most potent magic; the _white_ witch being vastly +inferior in power. + +[I] Fool. + +[J] Weak. + +[K] Silly. + + + + +THE PURSUIT. + + +IT began when I was a lad at the country day-school, struggling to hold +my own among the scholars in my class. + +If I could only always be perfect in my lessons, and among the foremost +(if not the first) in the examinations; then, at least, I thought, I +should see Her face to face. + +But these good things befell me--possibly undeservedly--and though I +swelled beneath my coat with inward satisfaction, _She_ was still far +off: a phantom on the hills. + +Then it struck me that if I went to dear Mother Nature she would tell me +of this daughter of hers--so enchanting, yet so shy--and I might even +one day surprise Her on the hill-slopes, or meet Her as She wandered +among the green, winding lanes. + +So I presently became a haunter of the tree-clad valleys, of the +prattling brooks with the meadowsweet drooping over them, and of the +lone, bleak hills where the great wind growled. + +Many mornings did I steal out long before the sunrise in order to watch +the stars die out in the dawning and the red bars glow in the +palpitating east. And when, standing among the firs in the windy +plantation, I saw the huge sun rear its head and flood the world with +splendour, and heard the birds sing jubilantly, almost breathless with +delight, I have fancied I felt the breath of the Beloved One on my +cheek and Her heart beating wildly and tremulously against my own. But +it was only fancy. Presently the singing dwindled and became fainter: +the air grew hot beneath the aromatic fir-boughs: and when, in the +distance, the flood of dazzling sunlight dashed redly on the +window-panes of the village cottages, I knew I must descend from the +haunted hill-top and return to the more prosaic details of life. If She +had flown past me, brushing me with Her garments in passing, I had not +yet discovered Her as a possession that I could grasp. + +Then I said to myself, I shall find Her among my girl-friends: among +their rustling garments I shall hear _Her_ garments rustle; and from +among the laughing eyes with which they bewilder me, I shall no doubt +be able to single out _Hers_. + +I chose the pleasantest of the maidens who fluttered through my world; +and I knew her beautiful, and I believed her to be true. But that old +clown Circumstance was piping in the market-place, shewing his +cheap-jack wares to catch the fancies of the maidens, and my sweetheart, +caught in the excitement of the moment, presently paid down for one of +his flashy baubles no less a price than her own young heart. + +Then I said, I will look abroad in the market-place myself. Through the +clatter of feet and the babble of many voices, I may perhaps catch a +whisper, a hint of Her presence. Possibly She may love the eager haunts +of men even more than She loves the silent haunt of the wood-dove and +the great wide moors where the kite circles slowly. I will move among my +fellows and will search for Her there. + +But the market-place with its thud, thud, thud of many feet, and its +clatter of vehicles, and its buzz of many voices, was a busy spot, and +the pleasures were very cheap ones: and not here could I manage to get a +glimpse of Her face. + +I looked in the shops, and I stood beside the hawkers, and I listened to +the sellers and gossiped with those who bought; but the noise, and the +heat, and the dust that rose so thickly, were more than I had bargained +for, and I felt lonely and disillusioned: so I very lamely turned my +back on it all, and went away feeling that I should never find Her +there. + +Then I built for myself a study into which I gathered covetously the +most perfect vintage of the human intellect--the ripest fruit our wise +race has garnered during all the years it has been harvesting from time. +And here I sat me down waiting for my Beloved. She will surely show Her +face to me here, said I. + +The wind rattled the casement; the lamp-flame shook tremulously; and the +fire burned cheerfully in the grotesque-tiled grate. I could hear the +rain viciously swishing against the window-panes and gurgling +unmelodiously through the gutters and from the pipes, but She whom I +desired came not to keep me company. + +For all the feast I have gathered for us, and for all the comfort I have +secured for Her, She holds aloof, and I have never seen Her yet. + +And sometimes now I fancy that possibly I may never see Her: but that +one day, when I am lying in my coffin, She will press Her lips to +mine--and I shall never know. + + + + +A PLEASANT ENTERTAINMENT. + + +"I HAVE here," said the Showman, "the most interesting entertainment to +be witnessed on earth! Walk up! walk up, and judge for yourselves!" And +with that he beat the drum and blew shrilly on the pipes. + +The music travelled to the ears of his audience with a difference: or so +it seemed to them, as they stood before the booth. Some heard in it, +through the discordant hubbub of the fair, the rattle of vehicles and +the tramp of feet in the busy thoroughfares of a great city; for others, +it was the whistling of birds in the hedgerows; and to some, like the +restless pulsations of the sea. To each, according to his memories and +his mood. But the music of the Showman was a single tune for all. + +"Walk up! walk up!" bawled the grey-coated Showman, blowing at the pipes +and pounding on the drum. + +"Darned if I wouldn't go in, if I had the brass!" quoth a lean, +unshaven, shabby-looking man, who stood in front of the booth with his +hands in his pockets. + +"I'll stand treat, if you like!" cried a sunken-eyed young woman, whose +cheap and much-bedraggled finery matched aptly enough with her wan and +haggard countenance. It was the impulse of a moment, but she was the +puppet of impulse and danced on the wires at the slightest touch of +chance. + +"Right you are!" cried the man. + +And they mounted the steps together. + +"It's like going up to the altar, isn't it?" giggled the woman to her +companion. + +"More like going up to the gallows," growled the man. + +The Showman rattled the coins as he pocketed them, and flinging aside +the canvas admitted them to the booth. + +The interior was enveloped in a dim obscurity; hardly deep enough to be +counted as darkness, but oppressive enough to slow the pulses of both. +There was, however, at one end of the booth a large disc projected on +the obscurity: a pale, empty, weirdly-lighted circle, which they stared +at dumbly, with wonder in their eyes. + +"Is this some darned fool's joke?" growled the man. + +"Hush!" said the woman, "the entertainment has commenced." + +And, true enough, the disc at which they had been staring had already a +stirring, as of life, across its surface. + +They were aware of a couple of enthralling faces fronting them side by +side on the disc. + +One was a woman's face, exquisitely beautiful, with soft blue eyes, full +of the most charming gaiety, and with lips as sweetly winsome as a +child's: the other was a man's face, proud and handsome, the mouth set +firmly, the eyes full of thought. + +"Such a face I had dreamed of as my own," sighed the woman. + +"So I had imagined I might have been," mused the man. + +And then the scenes on the disc began to wax and dwindle rapidly; like +the momentary clinging, and as rapid vanishing, of breath across a +mirror of polished steel. + +There was a vague fluttering and interchange of images; an elusive, +intangible influx of suggestions, and an equally dreamy efflux of the +same. + +A young girl growing into beautiful womanhood, well-dressed, shapely, +sought eagerly in marriage, admired by the opposite sex, and envied by +her own. Then a woman in the prime of her powers of enjoyment--with her +charms undiminished and her wishes ripened--wedded, and successfully +shaping her life: a woman blessed greatly, and very happy. + +And side by side with these dream-fancies, or imaginings, went those of +a young man facing the world gallantly; surmounting every obstacle +easily, and conquering hearts as if by a spell. There was success for +him in every scene on which he entered: he was proud and admired, and +very haughty, and very rich. + +Presently, as if through some dexterous sleight of hand, the pictures of +his wooing blended waveringly and dimly with the pictures which emerged +for the bedraggled woman who stood beside the loafer in front of the +disc. + +In the church, when the wedding-march was being played, and in the +vignettes of domestic happiness that ensued, the faces and scenes +mysteriously coalesced. + +For the two spectators, who watched the shifting pictures breathlessly, +there were no longer four figures in the scene, but only two. + +"Some such future I had imagined for myself," the man muttered. + +And the woman mused amazedly: "These were day-dreams of my own." + +The disc became obscured, as if their eyes were blurred mistily. + +The woman gulped down something: and the man clenched his teeth. + +There was a sudden exquisite clarity in the pictures. They were looking +at a cluster of white-washed cottages, with tall thatched roofs and with +great stone chimneys: a lonely little hamlet drowsing in the sun. +White-winged ducks were quacking in the roadway, a grey-coated donkey +was grazing beside a hedge, and the threadlets of smoke, that mounted +lazily above the roofs, rose up into a sky of the most exquisite purity, +spacious, high, and cloudlessly blue. And again there was only one scene +for them both. + +"My God, that is where I was born!" groaned the man. + +"That's my mother's cottage!" sobbed the woman, and wept aloud. + +Then came rural scenes of almost every character, with a lad and a girl +moving flittingly through them--laughing and kissing in the lanes among +the brambles, drifting together everywhere, sweethearting through it +all. + +"Are you Nelly King, then?" asked the man, hoarsely. + +"And you . . . you are Stephen Laity, are you not?" + +"If we could both die here and now!" cried the man. + +Then the pictures for a while grew blurred and confused, till presently +they shewed the gas-lighted streets of London. . . . + +"My God, I will see no more!" cried the girl. And she shudderingly held +her hand before her eyes. + +"Nor I, either!" cried the man, with an oath. + +"However much you close your eyes," said the Showman, "you will cancel +nothing of the pictures on the screen." + +But they had turned and fled even while he was speaking. + +"Even in the fair the pictures will pursue you!" said the stern-visaged +Showman, following them with his eyes. + + + + +THE MAN WHO DESIRED TO BE A TREE. + + +THE sunshine streamed across the lush-grassed meadows, and beat fiercely +down on the huge-limbed elms whose myriad leaves kept fluttering +ceaselessly. In the dense green covert, formed by the multitude of +interlacing branches, several wee brown songsters had built their nests, +and they kept flitting to and fro and trilling joyously as the light +breeze stirred the innumerable leaves. + +The air was warm, and soft, and pleasant. The deep green arcades were +cool and moist, full of the drowsy flutter that rippled through the +branches, and full also of the deliciously delicate fragrance from the +budding sprays and fresh green foliage. May was in the woodlands, shy +and winsome; she had not yet shaken herself free from her day-dreams, +and the wonder of her young hopes lingered about her still. + +At the foot of a tree, reclining against its roots, lay a lean-visaged +student, very shabbily dressed and with patches of thin grey hair around +his temples. A volume of the _Faery Queen_ lay open beside him, but he +had for some time ceased to pore over its pages, being engaged instead +in chasing Fancy as she flitted hither and thither through the vast +green woodland, dallying with the shadows and gossiping with the wind. + +His mind's eye revelled in the picturesque suggestions that seemed to +him, as he lay here with half-closed lids, to be fleetingly visible, as +if in a dream. He was aware of beautiful damsels in gauzy draperies +pantingly hurrying through the dusky avenues with steel-clad knights in +hot pursuit; of grey old monks, cowled and sandalled, moving hither and +thither in a world of utter peace; and of dryads and fairies, fauns and +satyrs, filling the woodland with dreamy poetry, as the wind filled its +giant rafters with music, and the brooks purled babblingly through the +crevices of its floor. + +How delightful it would be to be a denizen of the forest--to be this elm +in whose shadow he was lying! he thought. + +The huge tent-like shadow of the elm-tree deepened and widened with the +dropping sun, and the shadows of other trees in the vicinity--dainty +saplings and gnarled old foresters--fell across the nearer margin of the +grass-land in fantastic, almost semi-human outlines: at least, so it +seemed to the dreamy student, as he lay here watching the breeze ripple +across the grass-blades and listened to the murmur of the forest at his +back. + +"I should like to be a tree," he sighed lazily and half aloud. + +"Would you?" asked a voice from somewhere close to him. + +It was a low, caressing, insinuating voice, with a strange seductiveness +in its silvery intonation. And instead of feeling startled he felt a +sudden wave of happiness, as if a beautiful female had breathed upon his +cheek. + +"Would you?" asked the voice, deliciously flattering him, "_would_ you +like to be one of us indeed?" + +A tree has a life void of trouble, he ruminated. The birds sing to it, +and the wind caresses it, and it feels the sunshine, and greatens where +it grows. Yes, I should like to be a tree indeed! + +"Shall I grant your wish?" asked the voice whisperingly--how exquisitely +sweet and soothing it was!--"shall I grant it here, and now?" it asked. + +The student closed his eyes to leisurely consider; and then, half +dreamily, answered, "Yes!" + +To be a tree is to be in touch with Nature nakedly; to be stripped of +the disguises that have gathered about the man, and to be thrown back +blankly into the narrowest groove of life. The student felt the wind and +the sun on his branches, and the birds sang joyously, nestling among +his leaves; his feet were rooted in the fresh and wholesome earth, and +the sap moved sluggishly in his rough-barked trunk. + +It was a calm and deeply drowsy existence; but the restlessness of +humanity was not yet eliminated from him, and he investigated his novel +tenement wonderingly, and not without a touch of squeamish disgust. + +But when the quiet night descended on him, and the cooling dews slid +into his pores, the exquisite soothe of the darkness enveloped him, and +to the rustling of his leaves he fell healthily asleep. + +He was awakened presently by the gracious dawn, by the sweet and +wholesome breath of morning, and the flash of the sunrise and the +singing of birds. And had it not been for the dew-crumpled volume that +now lay blotched and smirched at his feet, he would have forgotten his +manhood and the unquiet life of cities and would have looked for his +brothers only among the trees. + +But so long as the volume lay there forlornly, so long he remembered, +and had something to regret. + +But the days passed--he could now keep no count of them--and human +speech and human passions dropped away from his memory as quietly and +painlessly as his own ripe leaves began presently to drop. And the +tree's life narrowed to its narrow round of needs. + +It sheltered the birds, and it took the wind's kisses gladly, and it +caught the snows in the wrinkles and twists of its boughs; and the +squirrel nested in it, and the wood-mouse nibbled at it; and its life +sufficed it, answering its desires. + + * * * * * + +One day there swept a mighty storm across the forest: the thunder +crashed and the lightning flashed continuously; and the whole land held +its breath, listening to the uproar. + +The Lord of the Forest was moving among his children: and some of them +he passed without injuring or despoiling them; but others he smote +wrathfully, so that he rent them and they died. + +And when he came to the tree that had one-time been the student, he +remembered, and desired to bestow on it a boon. + +And he said to the elm, now gnarled and wrinkled, "You shall be a man +again, if you earnestly desire it--a man again until you die." + +The tree heard the great wind roaring among its brethren, and it was +aware of the wee birds cowering among its boughs; and it remembered, as +in a flash, the weary life of humanity, with hopes to befool it and +despair for its reward: and it rustled its myriad leaves whispering +mournfully, "Let me, O Master, remain as I am!" + +And the Lord of the Forest was content, and passed on. + + + + +THE MAN WHO HAD SEEN. + + +ON the third day he recovered from the "trance" and regained +consciousness, and took up the burden of his life as before. + +But the revelation which had been vouchsafed to him had influenced him +profoundly. He had now a new estimate of values and results. The centre +of his mental life was permanently shifted, and a new bias had been +given to his thoughts. + +He went to the King, where he sat sunning himself in his palace. + +"You are very rich," said the man to the King. + +"God has so willed it, and I am grateful," said the King. + +"You hope one day to see God face to face?" + +"I _do_ hope so, fervently!" said the King, with unction. + +"And if He questions you of your wealth you will express your gratitude +and bow to Him, and God will accept the compliment and be content?" + +The King was silent. + +"You think He will ask no questions?" said the man. "He will not trouble +to refer to His starving children, with whom you might reasonably have +shared your superfluities; to the sick whom you might have succoured; or +to the sorrowing whom you might have cheered? You had wealth, and were +grateful for it: and you used it on yourself. And presently, when you +are dead?" asked the man, more quietly. "If you sit beside the beggar +who perished at your gates, what will you say to him if he should refer +to matters such as these?" + +"Sit beside a beggar!" cried the King, in high disdain. + +"You forget it will be in heaven," said the man, gently. + +"In heaven, of course, I shall be a king as I am here!" + +"Oh, will you?" said the man: "I was not aware of that. I saw kings +there performing the lowliest of services. And I saw many in hell: the +majority of them were there." And therewith the man sighed heavily, as +he mused. + +The King turned his back on him: and they thrust him out at the gates. + + * * * * * + +The Archbishop was reading a novel by the fire. + +"Your work, then, is ended, is it?" asked the man. + +"Oh no! not by any means ended, I hope. I attended a drawing-room +meeting at Lady Clack's yesterday," said the Archbishop, smiling +benignantly on his questioner, "and this morning I have sanctioned +proceedings against a vicar who for some time has been wavering +heretically in his opinions. I think we can effectually silence him at +last. Oh yes, I am extremely busy, I can assure you." + +"There are no souls, then, to be saved?" said the man. "No lives to be +reformed: and no mourners to be comforted? This side of your duties you +have completed and closed?" + +The Archbishop looked at him with extreme hauteur. "My dear sir, I leave +these matters to my subordinates. I am here as an administrator, not as +a minister." + +"And you always choose the men best fitted to be ministers?" + +"Of course. At any rate, I hope so," quoth the Archbishop. + +"That young curate who has so successfully played the evangelist in +Gorseshire--he will have one of your earliest nominations, then, no +doubt?" + +"Indeed, he will not! He has offended me deeply. Would you believe it? +he wrote an article on me in one of the reviews, and he actually had the +audacity, sir, to criticize me unfavourably! I will see that the man +remains exactly where he is!" + +"And when you by-and-by make your report to your Master, will you +explain to Him your methods and your aims in this way? If so, do you +think He will be satisfied with you? Your methods and His are at +variance, surely? In heaven there are neither archbishops nor bishops, +as such. If they pass the gates at all, it is merely as men who have +done their duty. Do you think you will pass the gates on that score, +your Grace?" + +The Archbishop rang the bell sharply and abruptly. + +"Please show this gentleman out!" said His Grace. + + * * * * * + +"So you persist in disowning your daughter?" asked the man, looking hard +at the portly, pleasant-faced matron who was dandling her thirteenth +infant on her knees. "You will show her no mercy, now she asks it at +your hands?" + +"She has disgraced me--I will never forgive her!" said the woman. "Let +her starve with her brat. It will be well when they are dead." + +"She has disgraced you, you say? But has she disgraced Nature? I thought +it was Nature who was responsible for her sex and its instincts. She has +obeyed the one and fulfilled the other. And they have been paramount +considerations with you also, I perceive." + +"Did she owe no duty, then, to her parents? Was I to count in her life +merely as the soil to the plant?" + +"In the scales of justice, as I saw them adjusted in heaven, the claim +against the parents weighed the heaviest," said the man. "You suckled +her at your breasts; but you brought her there to suckle. In your +bringing her there, lies the onus of her claim." + +"I tell you, she has disgraced me, and I will never forgive her!" + +"_'Never'_ is a long day for a mortal. You will be judged yourself +before you reach the end of it," said the man. + + * * * * * + +"Three months' imprisonment with hard labour," said the magistrate. + +"For taking a loaf of bread when he was starving!" cried the man. + +"Even so," said the magistrate, with his hands on his paunch. + +"But surely this is a monstrous perversion of justice. Or, rather, let +me call it a monstrous _in_justice!" + +"The laws of the community must be respected," said the magistrate. + +"Here is a man--alive by no fault of his own, and poor, even to +starvation, through absolute want of work: and yet you begrudge him the +necessaries of life! If he tries to commit suicide, you pillory and +chastise him, and if he tries to keep life in him out of the +superfluities of others, you pass on him this monstrous sentence!" cried +the man. "Surely here is some fault in the structure of your society." + +"It is the law of the community!" said the magistrate, pompously. + +"And in what way is the law of the community so very sacred, that it +should be counted of higher price than the life and welfare of a man? +The law of the community may be a very pretty idol to play before, but +in heaven it counts for nothing," said the quiet old man. + +"This man is a pestilent fellow," said the community. "He troubles us +overmuch with this vision that he has knowledge of. Come, let us kill +him!" + +And they smote him, and he died. + + + + +THE UNCHRISTENED CHILD. + + +"_Thee_ shaan't christen un, ef he's never christened!" said the father. +"I've no faith in'ee: not a dinyun.[L] Go to Halifax to shoot gaanders: +tha's all thee'rt fit for!" + +"He'll suffer for it, both here and hereafter," said the parson. + +"Doan't believe it!" said the man. + +"Wherever he dies, whether on land or on water, he will become a +creature of that element instead of going to his rest," said the +parson, with an angry light in his eyes. + +"Doan't believe it!" said the man: "an' thee doan't nayther." + +The parson marched off, disdaining to reply. + +The infant grew into a bright little lad, but there was always a certain +oddity about him, and he saw and understood more than he ought. + +One day he was out fishing with a companion, in a tiny punt they had +borrowed for the purpose, when he leaned overboard too far and fell into +the sea. + +His little companion was so paralysed with terror that he could do +nothing but set up a shrill screaming, clinging to the boat with both +his hands. + +Silas rose once--and twice--with wildly-pleading eyes: his mouth full of +water: his hair plastered against his head: then sank; and a third time +emerged just above the surface; so close to the boat that his companion, +leaning over, could see him sinking down slowly into the crystalline +depths, with his hands stretched up and the hair on his head tapering to +a point like the flame of a candle. + +"Silas! Silas!" the little lad shrieked. + +But Silas sank down; and ever down: lower and lower beneath the +translucent waters, the vast flood deepening its tint above him, till at +last he was hopelessly buried out of sight. + +When John Penberthy heard the terrible news he took the blow as a man +might take a sentence of death--in grim silence, and with a sullen +despair which nothing might henceforth banish or relieve. The roof-tree +of his hopes was broken irretrievably, and he gazed down blankly at the +ruin around his feet. + +About three days after Silas was drowned, John was one afternoon out +fishing for bait, and happened to be keeping rather close to the +cliff-line, when he perceived a little seal emerge from a zawn[M] and +come swimming, as with a settled purpose, towards the boat. + +There was something so melancholy and so pathetically human in the soft, +liquid eyes of the animal, that John felt his heart touched +unaccountably. + +Forgetting the line, which he was just about to draw in, he sat staring +at the seal with a fixed intensity, as if he were looking in the +familiar eyes of some one with whom he had a world of memories to +interchange. + +And, meanwhile, the seal swam straight up to him, till it was so close +to the boat that he could touch it with his hand. + +John leaned over and looked straight at the animal: fixing his eyes +hungrily on the eyes of the seal. + +"Why dedn'ee ha' me christened, faather?" asked the little seal, +piteously. + +"My God! are'ee Silas?" cried John, trembling violently. + +"Iss, I'm Silas," said the little seal. + +John stared aghast at the smooth brown head and the innocent eyes that +watched him so pathetically. + +"Why, I thought thee wert drownded, Silas!" he ejaculated. + +"I caan't go to rest 'tell I'm christened," said the seal. + +"How can us do it now?" asked the father, anxiously. + +"Ef anywan who's christened wed change sauls weth me," said the seal, +"then I cud go to rest right away." + +"Thee shall ha' _my_ saul, Silas," said the father, tenderly. + +"Wil'ee put thy mouth to mine an' braythe it into me, faather?" + +"Iss, me dear, that I will!" said the father. "Rest thee shust have ef I +can give it to'ee, Silas. Put thy haands or paws around me neck, wil'ee, +soas?" + +And John leaned over the side of the boat till his face touched that of +the piteous little seal. + +At that moment the boat--which for the last few minutes had been allowed +to drift at the mercy of the tide, owing to John's pre-occupation--was +caught among the irregular currents near a skerry, and John was +suddenly jerked, or tilted, overboard, plunging into the waters with a +sullen splash. + +When he rose to the surface, with a deadly chill in him--the chill of +his drear and imminent doom, even more than the grueing chill of the +water--his first thought, even in that perilous moment, was of dear +little Silas and the promise he had given to him, or, at least, the +promise he had given to the seal. + +The quaint little creature was, however, nowhere visible; and John, with +a sudden influx of strength--an alarmed awakening and resurgence of his +will--made up his mind to save his life if it were possible, and quietly +leave the settlement of the other affair to God. + +But grey old Fate was stronger than he was. And the waves were here her +obedient servants; doing her will blindly, without pity or remorse. + +In a little while John was tossing among the seaweed--into a bed of +which his body had descended--and what further dreams (if any) he +dreamed there beneath the waters, must remain untold till the Judgment +Day. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[L] Little bit. + +[M] A cave. + + + + +THE MAN WHO MET HATE. + + +IT was drawing on towards midnight, and the world seemed very lonely. + +There was a huge, round harvest moon in the sky, and the hills were +bathed in a kind of spectral splendour--a faint and filmy shimmer of +silver that left the outlines of objects blurred and elusive, though the +scene as a whole emerged clearly for the eye. The wind was sighing +drowsily across the moors, while high on the rugged cairns on the +hill-tops it was wuthering mournfully beneath the wan grey sky. + +And 'Lijah, staring sleeplessly through his blindless bedroom-window, +felt a growing unrest in the very marrow of his bones. + +He could see down below, in the little lonesome cove, the cottage where +Dorcas had now made her nest with that "darned gayte long-legged 'Miah" +for her husband, and in the sudden heat and bitterness of his wrath his +heart became like a live coal within him. "I'll have my revenge on un, +ef I haang for it!" growled he. + +And then he remembered that up on yonder moors--whose ferns and granite +boulders he could see plainly in the moonlight--there was a "gashly owld +fogou,"[N] where, if a man went at midnight prepared to boldly summon +Hate and to "turn a stone"[O] in her honour, his hatred would be +accomplished for him "as sure as death." + +"An' I'll go there, ef I die for it!" said he grimly to himself. + +The village was asleep, and all its cottages were smokeless. There was +no one stirring anywhere in the cove. But far out in the moonlit bay he +could see the fishing-boats dotting the vast grey plain, and he knew +that in one of them 'Miah Laity was fishing, and was no doubt thinking +of Dorcas as he fished. + +"I'll spoil 'es thinkin' for un 'fore long," said 'Lijah, "ayven ef I +have to sill me saul to do the job!" + +And with that he slipped on his coat and boots--for he had been +standing at the window half undressed--and clapping on his cap as he +passed through the kitchen, strode heavily and gloomily out of the +house. + +On the moor he had only the breeze for company, and its long, vague +wail, as it rustled across the ferns, merely deepened the moody +irritation in his mind. He felt as sour as a fanatic and as gloomy as a +thief. + +To find the fogou, among the bewildering growth of ferns, was by no +means the easiest task in the world: for the rude cave-dwelling was +literally buried in the hill-side; its entrance being hidden by the rank +vegetation that here reached almost to Elijah's arm-pits. + +As he ploughed his way through the trackless tangle, giving vent the +while to a superfluity of oaths, he presently stumbled on the entrance +to the fogou, almost precipitating himself into its darkness, so +suddenly had he stumbled on it, wading through the ferns. + +The low and narrow tunnel in the hill-side, with its walls and roof +lined with slabs of rock, was as uncanny a spot as a man could set foot +in, and Elijah shook like one with the ague, as he thrust aside the +ferns and peered into the blackness. + +He turned round, half inclined to retreat; but, as he turned, his eyes +chanced to travel to the sea, where he could still discern the +fishing-boats riding at their nets; and the idea of 'Miah out there +thinking of Dorcas made him clench his teeth grimly, as if he had +received a blow. + +He swung round on his heels sharply and determinedly, savagely trampling +the ferns beneath his feet, and strode forward into the pitch-black +mirk. + +Groping his way in, with hands extended, he presently found the block of +granite called the altar, and "turning the stone" in the hollow on its +surface, he shaped the while in his heart his rancorous prayer to Hate. + +Suddenly he was aware of a face staring at him: a mere face vaguely +limned on the darkness, as if a bodiless head were held before him by +the hair. + +And in that same instant, without a word being uttered, he felt that he +had looked in the face of Hate. + +He reeled out of the fogou like a drunken man. + +The vision was one it would be impossible to forget. He must bear with +him this memory, as a man who has committed a murder must bear with him +the memory of his victim's ghastly face. + +"I'll wait an' see what comes of it," said 'Lijah to himself, as he ran +and stumbled down the hill-side in the moonlight, the thick hair +stiffening under his cap. + + * * * * * + +The months slipped by, and the years dragged on sluggishly, and 'Miah +and Dorcas were as happy as ever. They had a couple of bairns to toddle +about their cottage, and 'Miah had been fairly fortunate on the fishery, +so that their lives were generally sunny and enviable to an extent that +made Elijah's blood turn to gall. + +"Thee'st forgotten me, thou darned owld liar that thou art!" said he, +shaking his fist savagely at the fern-clad hill-side, where Hate +presumably was watching from her lair. + +On which he heard a chilling whisper at his elbow: "You shall have your +wish, as sure as death!" + +Elijah heard the loud thump, thump of his heart. But an instant after, +his pulse danced buoyantly, and he went about his work chuckling grimly +to himself. + +But while 'Miah's life was harvesting happiness, as his nets gathered +abundantly the harvest of the sea, Elijah's life on his farm on the +hill-side appeared to be stifling among the stones and thistles, and a +sour and acid leanness seemed eating up his heart. + +It was as if Hate had shot her arrows blindly, and they had struck and +rankled in the wrong breast. + +With Elijah Trevorrow nothing seemed to prosper. He might rise early +and go to bed late, he might pinch and pare as relentlessly as he +pleased, every year of his life he grew leaner and poorer, till the +scowl on his features deepened permanently among its lines, and in the +end transformed his features as completely as a mask. + +He was no more like the clear-eyed, whistling young farmer who had gone +a-wooing Dorcas among the rustling wheat-fields, than the wrinkled tree, +with its heart rotted out of it, is like the green young sapling in the +bravery of its spring. + +Ever watching hungrily to see Misfortune seize his rival and set her +teeth thirstily in the very pulse of his life, Elijah held aloof from +commerce with his neighbours, sour and discontented, and wishing each +day to end, in the hope that on the morrow he might see the evil he +desired. + +Presently there went a whisper through the tiny hamlet that Elijah +Trevorrow was a bit touched _here_--the villagers tapping their brows +significantly as they spoke. + +"He do talk as ef Hate es a woman, an' he've seed her. Up in that owld +fogou he've mit her, he do say. An' he's all'ys sayin' she ha'nt keeped +her word to un. Whatever do 'a mayne, weth 'es gashly owld tales?" + +'Miah, whose name had got mixed up in the tale, one day called at the +lonely farmhouse, in order to see Elijah and reason with him if he +could. + +But Elijah, as 'Miah approached, set the dogs on him savagely, and the +fisherman was obliged precipitately to beat a retreat. + +At last, one day in the depth of winter, when the hills were white with +whirling snowdrifts, Elijah Trevorrow disappeared. + +They searched everywhere for him, but could find no trace of him, and +the search was finally abandoned in despair. + +Elijah had made his way to the fogou, determined to front Hate and to +compel her to keep faith with him, even if he squeezed her life out +through her throat. + + * * * * * + +Some eight months after--in the time of blackberries--some youngsters, +questing among the ferns on the hillside, stumbled across the fogou and +crept in to explore it. + +They rushed down the hillside screaming with terror; and, when safe +among the cottages, began to babble incoherently that there was a ghost +up yonder in the "owld hunted fogou," they had seen its face--and it +was white--so white! + +The villagers began to have an inkling of the truth, and went toiling up +through the ferns in a body. + +"As like as not 'tes _he_, poor saul," they whispered awesomely as they +clambered up the windy ridges of the hill. + +True enough, it was Elijah, dead in the fogou. But whether or not he had +again met Hate there, is one of the questions the gossips have still to +solve. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[N] A subterranean storehouse or place of shelter. + +[O] A portion of the rites practised in connection with "cursing +stones." + + + + +THE HAUNTED HOUSE. + + +IT was only an old deserted house, perched half-way up the hillside and +overlooking the village. But it was none the less the village theatre: +the peep-hole through which the villagers obtained a glimpse of many +mysteries, and the stage and drop-scene of half the legends of the +thorp. + +It was an old stone building which evidently had once been a dwelling of +importance, but for quite a century it had been tenantless and almost +entirely dismantled: the home of the owl and the lizard, of the spectre +and the bat. + +When the sunrise splashed across the fragmentary panes of glass that +here and there remained in their frames, the farmer would stand still at +his ploughing on the hill-slope and glance up at the great Argus-eyed +building--that had now, however, more sockets than eyes--and a world of +memories, of legends and superstitions, would buzz, with strange +bewilderment, through his brain. + +The old house reminded him of his mother and of his grandfather, and of +those who had been the village historians for his childhood, and a +musing gravity seemed to deepen in his mind. He was aware of the brevity +of life, and of the lapse of the personality; of the tragedies of +passion, with their gravity and poignancy, and of the mystery that +broods at the back of all our thoughts. But most of all he was aware +that the building standing fronting him was the very kernel of his +individuality projected into visibility: the one knot into which all his +memories were tied. + +He would hold his children spell-bound by the hour as he told them the +ordinary folk-tales of the hamlet, with that ruin on the hillside as the +stage for the majority of them; till his daughter Ruth, who was young +and sentimental, though with a streak of passion running through her +nature, learned to contemplate the ruin with an awe akin to his, and +stared up wonderingly at it, so long and so often, that at last it had +become for her a necessary part of life. + +While Ruth was still a child, the haunted ruin chiefly attracted her +thoughts as the scene and locality of uncanny occurrences that were +fanciful and unusual rather than sombre or suggestive. It was the great +haunted cheese in which the piskies burrowed, and out of which they +hopped with amusing unexpectedness: it was the building to pass which +you must always turn your stocking, if you wished to escape being +_pisky-ledden_, or misguided: it was the place to which the "Little +Folks"[P] conveyed stolen children: above all, it was the place of dark +and cobwebbed corners, where naughty children were put to live with +snails and spiders and with great big goggle-eyed buccaboos! + +As she stood on her doorstep with her bit of knitting in her hand--a +tiny doll's stocking, or a garter for herself--little Ruth would stare +up at the great black building, with the scarlet splendour of the sunset +at its back, until she almost fancied she could see the little winking +piskies grinning through the window-holes and clambering across the +roofs. + +And by-and-by, when the rich yellow sky began to darken and the flocks +of rooks flew cawing overhead, Ruth would shiver with a delicious sense +of security as she stood beneath the porch in the gathering twilight and +heard the wind begin to moan and sigh mysteriously, as if it trembled at +the thought of spending the night on the hillside with no other company +than that "whisht[Q] owld house." + +As she grew older and became aware of the drift of her wishes, feeling +stirrings and promptings at the roots of her life, her imagination +seized now on the passionate human tragedies which, according to the +legends, had been enacted in the building. She had a sweetheart of her +own, and she could understand lovers; and something of the glamour and +mystery of a great heady passion she believed she could interpret out of +her own ripened life. + +But Rastus Dabb, her sweetheart, was as cloddish and unimaginative as +the heavy-uddered cows, with their great fleshy dewlaps, of which he was +prouder than he was of anything else in his world. It was quite +impossible to get his feet off the solid earth: and apparently his mind +was anchored firmly to his feet. But Ruth had the attractiveness of all +young things--she was fresh and cheerful, with a heart as light as a +feather--and, by the law of contrast, she suited him to a nicety, more +especially as she was an excellent little housewife to boot. So the +courting prospered sunnily; and he let her "romance" as she pleased. + +When she was a wife and mother, Ruth presently became acquainted with +that grim Shadow who knows the secret of our tears--their source and the +bitter in them--and knows, too, the secret of everlasting peace. And +thereafter, when at intervals his wings darkened the world for her, her +thoughts went out, with a strange yearning, towards the dead who had +once inhabited the ruin and could now roam through it only as ghosts. + +"Shall I one day have only such a foothold as theirs in this dear green +world of ours?" she would ask herself, shiveringly. And the +Sunday-evening's sermon could soothe her not a whit. + +At last, in the waning afternoon of life, when her smooth brown hair +was as yet unstreaked with grey and her cheeks had still a splash of +colour in them, she fell ill of some mysterious malady--mysterious, at +least, to the sympathetic villagers--and one dreary day in the +blustering autumn she was aware in her heart that the Shadow was in the +room. + +"Draw back the curtains as far as you can," said she to Rastus, who +stood helpless by the bedside. + +And when they were drawn, and she could see the great gaunt ruin +frowning blackly above the slopes of the shadow-checkered hillside, she +cried out suddenly, "I'm going there among them, Rastus! Oh, dear, hold +me!" And with that she passed. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[P] Fairies. + +[Q] Melancholy, forlorn. + + + + +GIFTS AND AWARDS. + + +"TWO bonnier babes," said the grey old midwife, bending thoughtfully +over them, "I never before assisted into the world." + +The mother, lying wan in her bed, smiled happily. + +"So bonny are they," said the wrinkled beldame, "that I will give to +each of them one of my choicest gifts: something they will still keep +hugged to their hearts when they are as close to the gates as you or I." + +"And how close is that?" asked the mother, growing whiter. + +The wise old midwife turned from the bedside and bent above the +infants, mumbling to herself. + +Presently the mother started up from a doze. There was no one in the +room but her married sister. "I dreamed Death was in the room with me +just now," said she. "And he had an old woman with him whom he called +his Sister. She seemed to me to be giving my babies something: but what +it was I don't know. At first I thought it was a plaything; but now I +think it was a sorrow. At least. . . ." + +"_Dear!_ DEAR!" cried her sister, in alarm, as if she saw the spirit +drifting beyond her ken. + +"My babies!" whispered the mother. + +And presently she was "at rest." + + * * * * * + +Rick and Dick grew up somehow. Though motherless and fatherless they +were not quite friendless, and in the struggle for existence they held +their own and kept alive. + +A more agreeable and cheerful fellow than Dick it would have been +impossible to find, according to his companions. He seemed dowered with +a disposition so equable and contented that it was a pleasure to be with +him: and he radiated cheerfulness like a fire. Moreover, he was in +thorough harmony with his surroundings. He found fault with nothing in +the structure of society, and desired no change either in laws or +institutions: everything was ordered wisely, and was ordered for the +best. In fact, he was the spirit of Content personified: and much +patting on the back did he get for his reward. + +"We must give him a helping hand, must push him forward, you know," said +the Community, beaming on its cheerful young champion. + +And Dick took the "pushing forward" with admirable self-composure, and +certainly seemed to deserve all he got. + +As for Rick, the Community would have nothing to do with him. He was not +quite an out-and-out pessimist, it was true; but he seemed to look on +the Community as a most clumsily-articulated creature--a thing of shreds +and patches, and the Cheap Jack of shams. He was always putting his +finger on this spot or that; hinting that here there was a weakness, and +there . . . something worse. Every advanced thinker, and the majority of +theorists, could count on finding a sympathetic listener in him: and not +infrequently they found in him an advocate also; such an arrant +anti-optimist was the pestilent fellow. As if Civilization, after +thousands of years of travail, had produced nothing better than a clumsy +abortion with the claws of an animal and the tastes of Jack-an-ape! Why, +the man must be mad, to have such irregular fancies! It was a pity laws +against opinions were not oftener put in force: then--a click of the +guillotine, and the world would have peace! + +Rick listened grimly, and made a note of the imagery. "You will remember +it better in black and white," said he. + + * * * * * + +In the course of years Dick became a churchwarden and a philanthropist +(he took the infection very mildly and in its most agreeable form), and +a highly respected gambler on, or rather member of, the Stock Exchange. +He was also joined "in the bands of holy matrimony" to a buxom young +widow who was left-handedly connected with The Aristocracy Itself! The +lady brought him a most desirable fortune to start with, and after some +years made him a present of twins: so that Dick was now a notable man +among his acquaintances, and had the ambition to become a bigger man +still, by-and-by: a Common Councilman certainly, and an Alderman +_perhaps_! + +Meanwhile Rick had developed into a musty _savant_: a fellow whose +tastes, if you might call them such, were of the most _outre_ order--in +advance of everything that was sober, respectable, and conventional; and +in aggressive alliance with everything that was disturbing, and that +was maliciously and wickedly critical (said the saints). + +"The kernel of his life is unhealthy," said his brother: "it has a +deadly fungus growing in it, I am afraid." + +"The fungus of discontent, dear friend," said the clergyman. + +"I am afraid so," said Dick, with a prodigious great sigh. "Still, we +must none the less pray for him unceasingly: for prayer availeth much, +as we know." + +The clergyman dramatically clasped his white hands together, looking up +as one who speechlessly admires. + + * * * * * + +Rick sat musing in his gloomy study: thinking of the ladder he had +climbed, and of the scenery of his life that now stretched out like a +map before him. + +Presently the study door opened softly, and a Figure came in and took a +chair at his side. + +"You have come, then!" said Rick. "I thought your coming must be near." + +"Shall we start?" asked the Figure. + +"I am ready," answered Rick. + +And they passed out together into the deep black night. + +"Come, take my arm: we will call together for your brother." + +"He has so much to make him happy! There are the little ones and his +wife! Could you not delay a little?" + +"He must come with us to-night." + +Dick was attending a banquet which was being given in his honour to +celebrate his recent election as a Common Councilman, and the lust of +life was in his every vein. But in the act of responding to the toast of +the evening he was suddenly attacked by a fit of apoplexy. He +staggered, and fell back--and they perceived that he was dead. + + * * * * * + +It was a bleak and a very depressing journey to pass nakedly and alone +from the warm, well-lighted, and flattering banquet, and, most of all, +from the comfortable and familiar earth, up to the Doom's-man and the +Bar beside the Gates. If he could only have had a friend or two at his +side! + +On the way up, just as he was nearing the gates, Dick overtook Rick, who +was a little way ahead of him. + +"Come, let us go up together," said Rick. + +At the gates, however, Dick began to grow uneasy. His brother's +reputation on earth among "the godly" was a curiously unwelcome memory +to Dick now the Bar was so near and the Doom's-man was in sight. + +"You go first," said Dick to his brother; falling behind as if to +dissociate himself from him. + +Rick passed the gate and stood silently at the Bar. + +"Place the brothers side by side," said the Doom's-man sternly. + +"If you please," began Dick, stumbling in his speech, so afraid was he +of being confounded in the judgment of his brother; "If you please. . . ." + +Said the Doom's-man: "Let the Advocates state the case." + +The Black-robed Advocate claimed Rick boldly. The verdict of Rick's +fellow-citizens, he asserted, was emphatic on the point that Rick was +legitimately his. And he went with the majority, and claimed a verdict +accordingly. + +The White-robed Advocate advanced, more hesitatingly, that Dick +presumably should go with _him_. The Community, he averred, had long ago +decided that only in this way would justice have its due. + +The Doom's-man's verdict was simplicity itself. + +A nature so contented, and so little given to fault-finding, would be +the typical one for the Black Advocate's household, said the Doom's-man, +humorously contemplating Dick. "Take him away with you," said he to the +Black Advocate: "the man will give you no trouble, _as you know_. + +"But that restless, fault-finding fellow there," and he indicated Rick +with a movement of his forefinger, "it would need a faultless abode +like _yours_ to satisfy him," and he signed to the silent White Advocate +at his side. "Take him, he is yours," said the Doom's-man solemnly. + +And with that the Advocates departed with their awards. + + + + +FRIEND OR FOE? + + +I. + +SIR EDWARD lay back lazily in his chair, with a letter in a woman's +handwriting crumpled at his feet. + +"She must make the best of it now," said he, gazing at the fire. "She is +not worse off than others, come to that." And he lolled among the +cushions, gazing into the fire, with a hard and cruel look on his +countenance, on which the stamp of sensuality was unmistakably +impressed. + +It was a large and luxuriously-furnished apartment, with everything so +arranged as to minister to the senses and afford them the fullest +gratification which suggestions could impart. + +But Sir Edward, lolling by the fire this evening, experienced little +satisfaction in his luxurious surroundings: the eroding tooth of thought +they could no way quiet; and it was the irritation of this that he most +desired to have allayed. + +He lighted a cigar, and began to smoke vigorously, leaning back the +while and contemplating the smoke-clouds that drifted round in swirling +folds and spirals, an occasional ring mounting airily over all. + +Smoking away steadily, cigar after cigar--for he was an insatiable +smoker as he was insatiable in everything--Sir Edward seemed presently +to be almost hidden among the smoke-wreaths, which had now thickened in +the room with unexampled rapidity. + +At first he felt inclined to ring for a servant and have the windows +opened to let in a breath of air, but there was a certain amount of +interest in watching the floating veils of smoke; and, besides, in the +mere act of idly watching these he could let certain vivid tableaux, +with which Memory was amusing him, drift beyond the range of his +attention, he hoped. So he lay back, letting the smoke thicken in the +atmosphere, while he followed the fantastic wreaths lazily with his +eyes. + +It was almost as if he were dozing as he lay there; for he could have +sworn that in the chair on the opposite side of the fireplace he +perceived a grey old fogey reclining among the cushions, yet with +deep-sunken eyes fixed watchfully on his face. + +It was really absurd to have an utter stranger intrude his company on +him in this unceremonious manner, and Sir Edward felt inclined to +question him sharply, and, if need be, have him turned out neck and +crop. + +But instead of taking up the intended _role_ of inquisitor, he found +himself reduced ignominiously to the _role_ of the questioned one. + +"Where were you thinking of going to-night?" asked the Visitor. "To the +theatre, or the opera, or to that 'private club' we know of?" And the +Visitor looked at him with a glance of quiet intelligence which Sir +Edward somehow felt powerless to resent. + +"I was thinking. . . ." + +"Of going with me? Quite right!" replied the Visitor. "With me you +shall go: unless we can come to terms together. In which case, +possibly, I may leave you behind _for a time_." + +Sir Edward ceased to smoke: and his hands trembled on his knees. + +But he made no movement, and uttered no protest. Before the glance of +his visitor he quailed and was dumb. + +"Ruth Medwin, I presume, must bear her disgrace as best she can? You +will neither recognize her, nor make her an allowance, I understand." + +"I think I have changed my mind. . . ." + +"Too late," said the Visitor. "After having seen _me_ you can change +your mind no more." + +Sir Edward lay motionless among the cushions of his chair. + +"I should like . . . if you will allow me . . ." he began feebly. + +"I can allow you only one choice: and that a peremptory one. Will you go +with me instantly--I think you know me--or shall I call for you again +_on any terms I care to fix_?" + +"Will your terms be as pitiless. . . ." + +"You shall hear them, if you please." + +Sir Edward sank deeper among the soft cushions: his whole life +concentrated in the watchful stare with which he fixed his eyes on his +visitor's face. + +"Shall I take you with me now to undergo your punishment--and, I need +scarcely tell you, it will not be a light one--or would you prefer a +delay before you accompany me: a period of expiation, in some form I may +decide on, with a hope of a reduction in your punishment at the end?" + +"A delay--a period of expiation, for God's sake!" + +"You are certain you prefer it?" + +"I implore it! I entreat it! For God's sake, grant me a respite!" + +"Be it so." + + +II. + +The soul that had been Sir Edward's sickened with disgust. + +It was located in the body of a miserable cab-horse; one of the sorriest +hacks in the East End of London, and practically fit only for the +knacker, one would have said. + +It was a life the human soul found inexpressibly hateful. If this were +expiation, it was in a purgatory indeed. But in a purgatory of filth and +of disgusting sensations, instead of in a torturing purgatory of fire. + +To be lashed with the whip, and galled excruciatingly with the harness; +to have the bit between the teeth, or tugging at the jaws unmercifully; +and to have the blinkers ever blotting out the vision of the world: to +strain every sinew, and have the service accepted thanklessly; to be +tortured with discomfort, and to work absolutely without reward--it was +a life devoid of even the meanest compensations: loathsome, and in every +way abhorrent to thought. + +The horses, and other animals he met in the streets, he might have +communicated with in some way or other, but his driver--a drunken, +quarrelsome fellow--was always tugging at the bit or brandishing the +whip; and if the poor animal even tried to turn his head, he was +belaboured as brutally as if he had swerved or fallen asleep. + +There was no chance even of rubbing noses at the drinking-troughs, or of +laying his head on the neck of a companion at the stand. And whatever +might be taking place in the streets through which he was passing, he +was debarred from bestowing on it even the most casual attention. + +His mental activity was ignored, or trampled on, with an indifference +that was never once relaxed or relieved. + +His life was a horror unexampled in its profundity. The cruel debasement +and defilement of it penetrated so deeply that he repented bitterly of +the choice into which he had been betrayed. He would infinitely have +preferred suffering among his equals in hell. + +A year of this life was as much as he could endure. One day he stumbled +across a tram-line, and, falling, broke his leg--hopelessly snapping +the tendon, and otherwise injuring himself--and he was carted off to the +knackers to receive his _coup de grace_. + +A moment or two before he was killed, the eyes of the animal lighted up +with a strangely human expression--which was succeeded by a look of the +most unappeasable despair. + +Evidently he had again seen the grey old man. + +But the Visitor's communication to him remained unrevealed, and it was +probably torturing him still when he . . . died? + + + + +THE FIELDS OF AMARANTH. + + +"I SHALL seek the fields of amaranth," said the young man defiantly. +"And I shall find them," added he, turning tenderly to his mother. "And +when I have found them I will comeback for _you_, dear mother, and I +will take you with me that we may dwell there in peace." + +"What do you know of peace, and why should you desire it?" asked the +father, with a certain cold contempt in his tone. "You have not yet +lived; and you have certainly not laboured. Rest is for those who have +laboured and grown weary. In that rest that you desire you would have +an empty mind for showman, and of its meagre entertainment you would +tire as speedily as a child. Live first, and watch the puppets of memory +play afterwards. The fields of amaranth will wait for you however long +you live." + +But the young man insisted: "I want to find them _now_. And when I have +found them I will come for _you_, mother, dear; and we will return to +them together and be happy and at peace." + +But the mother's eyes were troubled with an inexplicable expression. "It +were better that you should wait till I come to _you_," she answered +gently. "As come to you I surely shall--one day. But come not to fetch +me . . . if once you find the fields." + +"I surely _shall_ come for you," cried the youth. + +"No, no!" implored the mother. + +But he smiled on her, and was gone. + +It was a long journey, and a toilsome one, and the end of it the youth +could neither learn of nor anticipate. + +The fields of amaranth? Yes: all had heard of them. But no one knew any +one who had ever found them. And, for themselves, they were content to +know these waited for them somewhere. They had ties--they had +businesses--they were content to live and wait. + +"When I return from them, shall I give you tidings of them?" asked the +young man, earnestly. + +"No, no!" They were vehement in their dissuasions that he should not: +finally even fleeing from him in terror at the thought. + +And the young man mused perplexedly as he walked on. "Are there +_really_ fields of amaranth for those who can find them?" he asked of a +wrinkled, white-haired wayfarer. "Or is it merely a bait, a delusion, +and a lie?" + +"Yes, surely, my son, these fields await us all: else life, at best, +were a sorry game for most of us. It is there we shall rest and reap our +reward." + +"But no one seems eager to set out for them and discover them." + +"No one?" quoth the old man, looking at him strangely: "there are many +ways of getting there: you have chosen only one. There are other roads, +and crowded ones: though you know nothing of them yet." + +The young man brushed past him hot with disdain. He was merely an old +dotard: empty-minded like the rest. + +The lures of the highway were many and formidable; but the young man +turned aside from them impatiently. "I am bound for the fields of +amaranth," cried he haughtily: "when I return I will taste these good +things you offer." + +"Will he ever return?" whispered a girl to her mother. + +She had looked with eyes of love on the daring young wayfarer; and a +vague regret shivered through her as he passed on. + +"God only knows. But I doubt it," said the mother. + +The girl hid her face in her apron and wept. + +But the young man had not overheard the whisper, and with head held high +he pushed on along the road. + +And here were the fields of amaranth at last! He could see them smiling +faintly on the other side of the valley. But they had a strangely vague +and unsubstantial look. One might almost have fancied he were looking at +a mirage. + +And between the young wayfarer and the fields of amaranth the rugged +hillside sloped abruptly: its foot being shrouded in a dense white mist. +He could hear a river murmuring sullenly somewhere in the depths, but +the mist hid the waters and he could only hear their moan. + +How far he had left the busy highway behind him! He would like to take +just one farewell glance at it. The fields beyond him seemed to waver +deceptively in his eyes. One glance at the highway, with its booths and +its faces, and his vigour, strangely waning, would surely be renewed. + +But as he turned and saw the dear familiar highway, along which he had +trudged so many weary miles, his heart went out in a yearning towards +it, and he stretched out his arms to it, hungering for its life. + +So mighty was the fascination it now exercised over him, that he began +to rush headlong down the hill towards it, eager to be once more +mingling in its throng, and to once more feel its hum in his ears. + +At the foot of the hill he met the fair young girl whose eyes had +erstwhile followed him so wistfully, and he flung himself into her arms +sobbing violently. + +"The life here--you--I cannot part with them!" he cried passionately. +And he shuddered: "If the wish had come too late!" + + + + +THE COMEDY OF A SOUL. + + +"YOU are quite sure you will never change? will never desert me, or be +untrue to me?" + +"I am absolutely sure of it, my darling!" he answered resolutely. "Any +pledge my sweet one desires I will give her freely," added he, as he +again kissed her passionately on the mouth. + +"Would you leave me your soul in pawn?" asked the maiden, smiling at him +bewitchingly with her deliciously red lips; her cheeks dimpling and her +brown eyes sparkling, and her heaving breasts but thinly hidden from his +gaze. + +"Willingly! And be glad to leave it in my darling's custody!" And his +lips hovered caressingly around her just-disclosed shoulder. + +"Very well, I will accept the pledge," said she. + +He was beginning again to kiss her fondlingly. + +"You are a man of honour, are you not?" asked she; showing her even +white teeth, and dimpling her rose-leaf cheeks temptingly. + +"Certainly. I hope so." + +"Then let me have your soul." + +"But that would mean death for me! Do you desire me to die, my love?" +And a look of questioning wonder crept into his eyes. + +"By no means! I have not been reared by a philosopher for nothing. This +crystal ball"--and she held out to him a tiny globe of crystal--"put +your lips to it and pawn your soul to its keeping. I will warrant you, +it will hold it as safely as I could." + +He glanced at the tiny globe distrustfully. + +"Are you afraid? Do you wish to withdraw from your word?" + +"By no means." + +"Then breathe against it, my love." And she held the crystal ball +temptingly towards him. "You can imagine it is my lips you are +touching," added she, with a light, coquettish laugh, leaning +provocatively close to him. + +He took the crystal reluctantly, and breathed against it as she wished. + +"Oh!" cried he suddenly, drawing back his lips. + +She took the crystal globe from him and peered into it anxiously. Then +cried, in a tone of triumph, "Look! there it is." + +He was aware of something cloudy--vague and light as smoke--floating, as +it were, in the core of the crystal. And suddenly he felt a sense of +want within himself. + +She put the crystal in her bosom, and let it lie between her breasts. + +"It is warm and pleasant there: you will never let it grow cold, will +you?" + +"Never!" And she laughed; dimpling rosily in her mirth. "Now you can set +off on your journey," said the maiden. + +"I have no wish now to leave your side," he whispered meekly. + +"This rose, that I have been wearing, you were wishing for just now. +See! I toss it yonder! Fetch and keep it!" cried the maiden. + +He ran after it; groping for it where it had fallen in the grass. + +"Cuckoo! cuckoo!" sounded all around him. It was as if the wood had +suddenly grown vocal with cuckoos. + +He turned his head quickly. The maiden had disappeared. + +"Why did I trust my soul to her keeping?" he wailed drearily. "If she +should lose it; or mislay it; or should even let it grow cold! My love! +my love! my love!" he began calling. + +"Cuckoo! cuckoo!" kept sounding across the grass. + +He ran hither and hither: he followed the woodland paths feverishly. + +At times he fancied he caught a glimpse of her vanishing garments; of +the sunlight glinting on her long gold tresses. Now he imagined he could +hear her laughter echoing among the tree-trunks: and anon he even +fancied he could hear her singing. But he pursued her down the long +green vistas in vain. + +He sat down beneath a tree and clasped his hands drearily. "What a fool +I was to trust my soul to her!" he wailed. + +And at that moment he was aware of a ragged pedlar coming along the +forest glades, and whistling as he came. + +"Ho! young man! you look melancholy," quoth the pedlar. "What d'ye lack? +A philtre to make your sweetheart love you? Ribbons for a lady? A collar +for your hound?" + +"I want a soul," said the young man, glancing at him hungrily. + +"A common want!" quoth the pedlar, grinning broadly. "But here in my +pack I have souls in plenty. Dip in your hand and take one boldly!" + +"I should like to choose. . . ." + +"It is take it, or leave it. I allow no choice. I am offering you a +gift." + +The pedlar laid his half-open pack on the grass. + +"Dip in your hand and take one, if you will." + +The young man dipped in his hand at a venture, and drew out one--the +soul of an ape. + +"Not that! I will not have that!" cried he. + +"Then you will have none," said the pedlar, dropping the soul in his +pack again. "If the great Soul Maker, who manufactures them by the +million, allows neither picking nor choosing, beyond the casual dip of +chance, do you think that a mere pedlar in souls, like myself, can do +business on a basis which _he_ has found unprofitable? Pooh, man, get +back your soul _if you can_, or else you may do without one, as far as I +am concerned." And off strolled the pedlar, whistling as he went. + +The young man leaned his head dejectedly on his hand. + +"How can I get back my soul?" he moaned. + +"Why not live without one?" croaked a voice above his shoulder. + +He looked up, and saw a sooty old raven peering down at him. + +"Live without a soul! You'll never miss it," croaked the raven. + +"Can I?" cried the young man: amazed, yet hopeful. + +"_Can I?_" croaked the raven, mockingly echoing him. "_Can I?_ Of course +you can, young fool!" + +"Then I will!" exclaimed the young man, starting to his feet. + +"That's right," croaked the raven. "You're the right sort--_you_ are!" + +"A capital idea that!" quoth the young man, cheerfully. + +He looked up, but the raven had hopped away among the branches. + +"Well, at any rate, his hint was well meant, and I'll follow it!" quoth +the young man, striding out boldly towards the houses which he could +just see glimmering beyond the edge of the wood. + + * * * * * + +"Ugh! How ugly and dirty it has become!" quoth the maiden, gazing in the +crystal at the soul which she had coveted and stolen. "I will throw it +away, it no longer amuses me!" + +And she threw it from her into the mire of the city: and the wheels and +the feet rapidly buried it in the mud. + + * * * * * + +The grey-haired Bishop looked "so beautiful" in his coffin, that the +deaconesses and the dear good sisters longed to kiss him. + +"None of 'em ever found out that you wanted a soul," croaked the raven, +who sat perched on the window-sill, blinking in the sunshine. + +But there was no response to this: for how can a dead man talk? + + +THE END. + + + + +_Henderson & Spalding, Ltd., Marylebone Lane, London, W._ + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Page 46, "her" changed to "Her" to fit context (secured for Her) + +Both hillside and hill-side were used in this book and were retained. + +In the original text, each story began with the title on a page alone, +then a blank page, then the title was repeated at the start of the story +itself. 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